Author: victoria p. [victoria @ unfitforsociety.net]
Summary: Lucifer has always been the engine of Michael's change.
Disclaimer: All Lucifer characters belong to Mike Carey, Neil Gaiman, Vertigo/DC etc.; this piece of fan-written fiction intends no infringement on any copyrights.
Archive: Lists, Achromatic, comica_obscura archive.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Notes: Written for kangeiko in the comica_obscura challenge. I've only read through issue 41, so if I've been jossed, I don't know it yet. Big thanks to devildoll, lyra_sena and nifra_idril for the superspeedy betas full of helpful suggestions. All errors are mine. The first line in the second section is a direct quote from "Children and Monsters: Part Four."
Who Is Like God
In the beginning was the Word...
They are two, the favored, the firstborn, Light-bringer and Demiurge, will and power, and of their first coupling, the universe is born.
Michael remembers heat and friction, the push of Samael through him, their bodies blessed in joyful union.
And it was good.
I've gone into the god business. You could join me if you wanted to. You'd be welcome.
The words echo in his mind, and though he tries to deny it, Lucifer's offer exerts a minor pull. To be united with him again, to feel once more that primal rapture -- known only to them, and only together -- is a temptation. As Lucifer must have known.
But it is easy to put aside, to offer up that moment of wayward thought, and return to the Silver City after so many millennia away. He will find liberty and grace in obedience. He has not changed. He cannot change.
Except, of course, he has. He has died and been reborn at Lucifer's hands, created another universe with him.
He has fathered a daughter.
He has been the creative force behind two universes, and has served God with devotion, yet the love he feels toward Elaine Belloc is new and overwhelming, and different from any he's known before, striking to the heart of him in ways even his love for the Father does not.
It is out of love that he disobeys and contacts Gaudium -- love, and the first seeds of doubt.
He never stops to think how very far he has to fall.
He will not despair.
The humans have a saying, "While there's life, there's hope." He is life, he is creation. He is eternally hopeful, even in exile. To be otherwise would be to deny himself -- a sin greater even than Lucifer's.
He is touched that the imps, the fallen cherubim, undertook the attempt to raise Elaine's spirit, at great danger to themselves. He knows it is not enough. He knows what has to be done, and who will do it.
He is not unaware of the irony of his own salvation, and that of his daughter, resting in Lucifer's hands. He imagines Lucifer finds the situation amusing, and if he didn't feel such a strong sense of love and responsibility toward Elaine, Michael would probably let it go, just to spite him.
This capacity for spite is new in him, but not surprising. Lucifer has always been the engine of his change.
Lucifer never tires of picking at him, prodding the sore spots, angling for a reaction. If Michael didn't know better, he might think Lucifer was lonely.
"We are more alike than you think, brother," Lucifer says, mouth curled in a teasing grin.
His denial is vehement. "You fell out of pride. You chose to fall. I was cast out for love."
Lucifer laughs. "As if you weren't proud of the girl and what she could do. Could be."
"There is--" He stops, because there has never been any use in arguing with Lucifer. There is a difference between honest pride in the work of one's body and hubris, but Lucifer will never admit it. He speaks of degrees and shades of grey only when it suits him, and ignores them when it does not, preferring the dichotomies he himself has set up.
They avoid the question of disobedience altogether. It is the sin they are both guilty of, and they know it, though Lucifer would say he feels no guilt at all, no, nor any reason to feel it.
"She gave her life for you."
"And I owe her for that, which I am well aware of. I always pay my debts."
It is true -- Lucifer hates to be foresworn. A vestige, perhaps, of the honorable archon he once was, or an unconscious repudiation of his rebellion, or, more truly, simply another irony he enjoys.
Lucifer also hates to be indebted to anyone, and it is this, more than anything, that ties him to Elaine. Her love saved him, and Michael's love finds an echo in it, calling to life something he thought dead and gone long ago.
He should have known better.
Lucifer's teeth are sharp against the skin of Michael's throat, his hands warm and soft as they slide along Michael's shoulders. It is almost like the touch of his own hands, and yet not. His body hums with it, power and need and the promise of fulfillment.
"What--" he begins, but Lucifer silences him with a kiss. This is new, the meeting of lips and tongues and teeth, the exchange of warm, moist breath that neither really needs. But Lucifer revels in the senses, in the flesh, and Michael has discovered that physical desire overwhelms good judgment. Michael has discovered that for the first time, he wants it to. He wants this in a way he has never wanted anything, and he ignores the parts of his mind and heart telling him to beware.
Lucifer is firm, unyielding, his hands and mouth demanding a response, and Michael rises to him, the age-old struggle for dominance between them now translated into the thrust of hip and stroke of fingers over sensitive wings and skin, the bones of his spine melting like water under Lucifer's skillful touch. Michael understands suddenly the temptations of the flesh, and wonders for the first time at the form and function of his own body.
"Is this communion not holy?" Lucifer whispers, and Michael shivers at the warm breath ghosting over his ear, moans as Lucifer takes him, and they become one again.
This is heat and friction, pressure building into aching, driving need, and the belief that the transcendent is only just out of reach, if Lucifer will just-- please and there and yes...
The only stars he sees this time explode behind his eyelids as he comes, caught up in this rapture of the body, overtaken by pleasure such as he has only known with Lucifer, a reflection of the divine made flesh.
And it is good.
Untold years he'd spent chained up, his demiurgic power perverted by Sandalphon, alone, away from the host and his Father, but always his faith and trust had sustained him. Now he has been cast out, passed over, made a fool of.
But if this is truly the end of predestination, if God has truly left creation and chosen Lucifer as his successor, Lucifer is not the only one who will break free. Michael will not be forced into assuming his brother's role. He will walk away, and let Lucifer play alone at being god. There can be no rebellion without a rebel.
And it will be good.
Feedback of all sorts is most welcome.