Lucifer had scars of his own, but as he was sitting with his back to the couch, it was doubtful Leonard could see them. But if his hands wandered... well, they were hard to miss. Lucifer's eyes skimmed down over the crisscrossing marks, fingers following as he outlined a few. He didn't say anything about them, didn't ask, as it was evident they were old marks and likely still raw in terms of conversation pieces, but he didn't avoid touching them. He turned his head to let his teeth nip lightly at the curve of a shoulder, stubble rasping against soft skin as he did. "I know."

Ah, Lucifer. Ever the prideful fallen angel. "I have a feeling you don't get out much, do you, Chilly Willy?" What? It was close to Captain Cold...