bakerstreet | It's all about the laps

It's all about the laps

IN YOUR LAP

Some things don't need explanations. Chicken wings. Wonderful weather. Guilty pleasures like Michael Bay movies. This meme is one of those things. It's simple: one character is in another's lap, and eventually the two get hot and heavy. Whether it's a friend sitting on a lap because there's no room, couples cuddling, or a stripper giving a lap dance, one thing will lead to another...after all, the loss of personal space can certainly set actions (and more) in motion.

Prompts

Innocent Lap Sitting: It's just a friendly gesture. Maybe you're enjoying a movie or a dinner together. Nothing wrong with that!
Romantic Canoodling: You two are spending some time together, and there's no way to be closer than to snuggle up in your lover's lap.
Out of Necessity: No more room on the bench, in the booth, or on the couch? There's a place on their lap.
Amateur Lap Dance: Just something sexy between lovers. Or maybe more silly than sexy.
Professional Lap Dance: Better break out the ones. This lap dance will cost you.
Dare: Nobody ever thought you'd get this close and personal, so they pushed you into doing it.
Pointed: They said you couldn't turn them on so easily. Challenge accepted.
Accidental: Oops, you've fallen! Good thing this lap was there.
Step Back I Feel a Little Poke: Wait. What's this? Maybe you should wiggle your hips a little to find out.
Lovemaking Lapsitting: Riding someone while they're sitting up can make the rider feel powerful, since they're on top, but the one being ridden may notice just how soft and small they are...and embrace them out of instinct.

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[He doesn't mind a little wickedness, it IS what makes the world fun, after all. Just don't make him call the LAPD.

I'm also game to use the prompts as a loose interpretation. Basically, go nuts.]

Len honestly couldn't decide if he hated LA or loved it.

Pros: Lots of very rich, very stupid people, with very large bank accounts and collections of expensive things just begging to be liberated.

Cons: Hot as hell. Constantly. Why did anyone live here?

He missed Central City rather fiercely at times, but right now with metahumans so thick on the ground there and some evil superspeedy psychopath running around killing anyone who looked at him wrong, Leonard Snart had decided it was time to get out of dodge for a while until the Flash took care of his problems and returned Len's city to the kind of place he could allow his sister to live in.

One other pro: There were some nice clubs.

Len had come to Lux to case the joint, actually. He had heard this guy - Lucifer Morningstar? Seriously? That was either a supervillain with a god complex or he'd had really weird parents - anyway, that this guy Lucifer had money to burn, and he figured he had to have at least something his sticky fingers could lift before the end of the night. At the very least, it'd pay for the liquor.

Thing was, the liquor was good. And Len didn't dance, but he sure did appreciate watching extremely pretty people of both genders practically going at it on the dance floor. And also, Lucifer turned out to be extremely pretty himself.

With a nice singing voice. Len liked nice singing voices.

And then as he wandered closer to shamelessly check him out, there had been that beautiful server who'd turned his head, unable to help himself from deeply appreciating her curves and the particular texture of her dark skin. And Leonard Snart had been just drunk enough to trip on a corner of carpet.

And so that was how Len wound up getting somewhat too drunk on extremely expensive 50 year old scotch and landing straight in Mr. Morningstar's lap.

"Woah, sorry about that," he said. "Someone pushed me. Hope you're having a nice night, Luci, I'll just--"

The jacket made it somewhat awkward - and yes, he was covered up dressed all in black and wearing one a leather jacket, even in Los Angeles, because goddamn but he hated the heat but he hated feeling exposed even more - but nevertheless, he did his best to slip the guy's Rolex off his wrist as he struggled to get up again. And his best was pretty damn good, even buzzed as he was.

[OOC: Just for visual reference http://static.comicvine.com/uploads/original/0/40/5035880-lgn103a_0025b.jpg ]

Edited (Even Len wouldn't wear a parka in LA. Probably. Also have a pic since icons don't do it justice) 2016-05-13 15:04 (UTC)

If Len expected to be able to waltz around Lux in a parka and not be noticed, he was fooling himself and himself only. The strange attire had drawn attention, and if it wasn't for Lucifer's standing order of enjoying uniqueness, he might not have even gotten through the door. There was a dress code, after all. But hey, he might be adhering to it underneath, so Len was allowed in and drew attention as he meandered around.

Lucifer didn't pay him too much mind at first, enjoying the strangeness of it and having a laugh with Maze. Maze, however, kept her eye on the sneaky human who was, to her perceptive eyes, casing the bar. Well, wouldn't it be fun if he happened to try anything? There was a reason why nothing larcenous ever happened at Lux. Security was Maze's domain and she loved going as far as she could with ensuring it on the tight leash Lucifer kept her on. Not that either of them cared for the material aspects they had, but it was the principle of it. You don't steal off the Devil. Not and walk away with all your fingers and toes.

Len strolled around and Maze kept one eye on him, offering him a wink and a promising smile that wiser men knew to run from. The man tripped and wound up in Lucifer's lap and Lucifer seemed more amused than put out by it. Even when he felt nimble fingers trying to relieve him of his watch. It was the nickname that got his full attention, though, usually only used by those that knew him well enough and he was quite certain he'd never met parka-boy before.

An arm slipped around a puffy-covered waist, tugging the attempting to rise man back into his lap, the hand with the watch turning to slide his fingers through the ones trying to liberate their goal. "You know, if you wanted something, you could have just asked for it. Of course, now I might have to make you earn it." Said against the side of the hood drawn up before he let out an exasperated huff. "This is a nightclub, by the way, not bloody Mount Everest."

[Haha parka it is]

Damn. So he had been made. What an embarrassment.

Len didn't resist as Lucifer wrapped his arm around his waist and laced their fingers together. Len's own hands tended towards cold, but Lucifer's were warm and unexpectedly strong.

He laughed at the comment about Mount Everest, hiding the fact that his heart had just started beating twice as fast. How many seconds before the LAPD could get here? Or would Lucifer even bother calling the police - he did have a reputation for association with the underworld as well. Snart was comfortable around the mob, but he didn't have his gun with him, and he didn't relish a concrete set of boots or a swim right now.

"You never know when you come to these places, whether you might wind up climbing something before the night is out," he said, cocking his head to quite blatantly check Lucifer out. "Hi there, I'm Leonard Snart. And yes, I could've asked for your watch, but where's the fun in that?"

"Leonard Snart? You poor thing. Your parents should be flogged." He sighed and shook his head, adjusting his grip to let the man turn a little, though it was clear that a certain sticky fingered someone wasn't going anywhere at the moment. Maze came over and set down two glasses with a smirk, pointedly letting her eyes drag over the two of them before turning to stalk off and see to the bar again.

Lucifer reached for the glass with one hand, taking a sip and looking up at Leonard over it. "So, it appears you know who I am and you still decided to try your hand at pilfering. I hope it's the alcohol giving you liquid courage, otherwise I might have to point out you might just be too stupid to keep existing. Unless you have a brilliant plan to get out of being caught, mm?"

Snart rolled his eyes at the teasing about his name. "Right, because Lucifer Morningstar is poised to make it onto the top ten baby names this year."

With the grip loosened, Len shrugged right out of his parka, leaving Lucifer holding that instead of him, but he made no attempt to rise. He was pretty sure he wasn't getting out of the club easily at this point - that woman he'd seen before practically had razor wire in her smile and he wasn't about to dismiss someone who looked that goddamn dangerous in a cocktail dress.

It turned out Len was skating under the dress code, after all. Under the parka he wore a black button down silk shirt and black slacks, but no tie. His only jewellery a thick silver pinkie ring on his right hand, but the watch on his own wrist was nearly as expensive as Lucifer's.

"Anyway, sorry, it wasn't my intention to steal anything tonight, but sometimes you see an opportunity. Apparently I'm a little off my game. Must be the scotch." He shrugged and leaned over to snag the glass apparently meant for him. He eyed it suspiciously, shifting in Lucifer's lap to lounge like he had no intention of getting up any time soon. "Is this drugged? That'd be rude."

"It should. Lucifer's a lovely name." Someone was biased, of course. And it was certainly better than an earlier one that he never wanted to hear again.

His grip changed, becoming more a loose pretense of a hold when the parka was shrugged down. Considering what Decker wore in here, Leonard was practically overdressed and he found himself amused at the thought. Another sip, then he gave the man a twitch of a brow as he settled his gaze on him. "Are you making an accusation that I need to drug anyone for any reason in my own club? I can assure you, I neither want nor need to. Drugs in general, however, can be fun -- and found, if that's your preference. Slipping it in? Goes against Dad's consent rules, so no."

Len's eyes went cold, calculating for a moment, like two chips of ice set beneath furrowed brows. But he decided Lucifer was actually telling the truth, and sipped at the glass. Wow, okay, so apparently Luci was hiding the good stuff behind the bar. And he had thought the other stuff was good.

"Drugs aren't my thing," he declared. "But thanks for the offer."

"So," he said, toying with the glass in his hand. He did have a tendency to fidget when nervous, and for all his appearance of languid grace, he was somewhat nervous. Screwing up wasn't his style, and he had definitely screwed up tonight. "What's it gonna take for you to forget my little indiscretion?"

He watched the little changes, the calculation, the acceptance, the fidgeting, and he found it all amusing. Humans. So fun to play with. And Maze wanted to go back to Hell... Clearly she needed to do a little more playing herself.

Another sip, then he set the glass down and rested his hand on one of Leonard's knees. Not high up, not gripping tightly, just a casual place to rest it, but he was curious if it would have the same effect on Leonard that it would on most women he knew. Seemed the man didn't have a problem with physical proximity with another male -- that usually indicated something specific. "I suppose I could be convinced to look the other way if someone were to give me a good enough reason. Tell me, Leonard, what can you do for me, mm?"

Len's eyes flicked to the hand on his knee, though he didn't mind its presence. He had no idea if Lucifer swung in his direction, but given that the man had weekly co-ed orgies in his mansion apparently, he had some expectation that probably he at least wasn't homophobic.

"Depends on what you want," Len said, arching a brow. He wasn't in the habit of selling sexual favours, and that part of him that still feared his father's drunken rampages doubted that Lucifer actually would be interested in what was under the long-sleeved shirts he wore.

But shit, he really did want this man. The intensity of his own physical desire surprised and slightly frightened him. He swallowed an insane urge to just offer to blow him. No, he was better than that. He shifted uncomfortably and looked away, trying to master himself and stuff down the voice that said who cared? Getting your lips around whatever was in Lucifer's pants had to be worth the indignity of getting down on your knees in public.

He shuddered slightly with a rush of self-loathing at the direction of his own thoughts, and clenched his fists around his glass. "Can we go somewhere?"

Forcing wasn't Lucifer's way. Even coercing an unwilling party wasn't his style -- unless that party was a jerk and needed a little push to do something, like tell him what he wanted to know. But anything else... well. Lucifer could snap his fingers and get someone willing to do what he wanted. He'd never think of pressing the issue.

But as he'd stated before, he wasn't a jedi. He couldn't read minds or fears or motivations. He had to sort that all out for himself, and as he wasn't human and didn't have the same sort of feelings they did (or he told himself he didn't), it was sometimes hard to understand why they did what they did.

Looking down at the material covered knee, Lucifer drew idle little circles on it, patterning nothing so much as just touching because he could. "More to the point, I think it depends on what you're capable of, don't you? Is this... appeasement something that doesn't require an audience? And here I thought you were going to yodel for me." His eyes flicked to the parka, a grin twitching at the corner of his lips as he watched Leonard.

It wasn't that Len was unwilling. He was definitely willing. He ached for it, actually, and only the fact that he wanted it so badly made him terrified to reach for it. Damn, he should've gotten laid before coming here. Or something. How had this gotten so out of hand so quickly?

He looked at that hand on his knee. Studied it. "I'm a thief," he said. "A really good thief. You want something stolen?"

He swallowed, hard. "Or do you want to fuck me?" He'd been going for sarcasm with that one, and tried to tell himself that he his voice didn't go up hopefully at the end of that question. He failed miserably. Shit.

An indulgent look as the idle little pattern drawing slid a little further up Leonard's leg. "Not at the moment, no, but if I happen to need sticky fingers, I'll keep you in mind."

There was something to the tone of the man's voice, as if he was asking and not wanting to ask at the same time. Humans were so strange, always trying to avoid doing what they genuinely wanted to do. "Do you want me to? I have seen you eying everything reasonably pretty in here tonight. You seem to like Maze," his head jerked, indicating the dark-skinned woman he'd been looking at when he'd tumbled into his lap in the first place. "Though, I wouldn't suggest it right now. She'd eat you alive. She's in a mood."

Len's breathing sped up slightly as Lucifer's hand slid further up his leg. Yeah, of course he didn't want anything stolen. That would have been far too convenient.

He looked away again, pretending he was looking for Maze in response to that suggestion. "No way am I trawling for that barracuda, I'm not that stupid." He fell silent again, brows furrowing, staring at the glass in his hand. "You don't want to." Because hadn't he just offered? And Lucifer was pushing him on his bartender. But that wasn't terribly surprising. Len was a reasonably attractive man, but he was in his forties and Lucifer was as gorgeous a piece of ass as he had ever seen.

"When did I say that? Do you need to get your hearing checked?" Humans. Lucifer tutted, his hand sliding a little further up Leonard's leg until he was gripping his very upper thigh. "Merely giving you the option, Parka Prince. I prefer my bedmates willing, not looking at me as if I'm going to rav-- no, that's not true. I do like ravaging and I do like when they like that, but you look like you think I'm going to eat you."

His smile went purely wicked then, Lucifer's eyes flicking down along the man's body. "Well, I might, but not in a cannibalistic way, mind you."

"If you're going to call me by a stupid nickname at least call me Captain Cold," Len said, his breathing speeding up as Lucifer all but groped him.

Len wasn't afraid of what Lucifer might do in bed - he'd been to prison. He was anticipating humiliation. Disappointment. "I'm willing. Fuck." He shifted closer and kissed the other man, deeply, arms curling around his neck and with a little parting nibble to the lower lip that promised Len knew very well how to use his mouth.

Then he made to rise. "But I'm not bending over this table for you, so let's get this over with somewhere private."

Lucifer would have laughed at that, and refused to agree, but there were lips on his and he did enjoy affectionate attention. The kiss was skilled, not sloppy, and full of promise and he made a pleased little sigh when Leonard parted from him and made to rise.

"Ah, so, you're a bit shy, mmm? I suppose that means I should leave the others down here and make this a private endeavor, yes?" If Leonard thought Lucifer was the type to just 'bend someone over a table', he might be pleasantly surprised. The Lord of Hell enjoyed teasing. And foreplay. And long drawn out sessions that left the other party unable to use their legs properly. Especially when he was in the comfort of his own home. Which, as he rose and lifted his glass to his lips to finish its contents, he would be when he brought Leonard upstairs. "Stairs to your left leads to a private elevator. After you," he said, reaching for the man's discarded coat and handing it off to Maze.

Len glanced back at the other man, scowling at the mention of others. "I don't do parties."

This was such a bad idea.

He walked to the stairs, appreciating the open invitation to learn more about the place, though he suspected he'd have to abandon all thought of robbing Morningstar for now. Though this all did just make it more of a challenge, which meant it was even more interesting to consider stealing from him.

Another night, though.

He stepped into the elevator and waited for the other man, but the moment they were in motion and the doors were closed, he closed the distance between them and ran his fingers up Lucifer's chest, undoing buttons with deft fingers.

"So I'm gathering." They made it into the elevator and he had a lean body pressed up against his, fingers sliding buttons free of his shirt. Lucifer returned the favor, though he made his actions slower in direct contrast to Leonard's. A tease of playing with the button, then he slowly pushed it through the hole capturing it before moving on to the next.

There was little Lucifer had that he cared about enough not to just give away if someone wanted it, especially if it could gain him a favor in return. Leonard might wind up leaving later that night -- or the next morning, with that watch in his pocket. Time would tell.

The doors dinged open and Lucifer hooked his finger in the waistband of Leonard's pants, tugging him in and leaning in to give him a quick and almost chaste kiss before slipping past him into his suite. "Drink? Or have you had enough tonight?"

Len tensed when Lucifer undid the buttons of his shirt, but for now he was still covered and the tension eased somewhat when those long fingers hooked in his waistband instead. He was feeling very uncertain, used to being completely in control during his liaisons and generally simply paying to scratch the itch when he had it.

He followed the other man into the apartment and looked around with practiced attention. "I think I've had more than enough, but I won't be offended if you have one." He resisted a desire to button up his shirt again, instead taking a seat on the sofa and folding his arms across his chest. "Did I pull you away from working?"

"No," he said as he went over to the bar to grab himself a drink. If Lenny thought that behind the bar was top level, he'd be surprised yet again at what he kept in his personal stock.

Drink poured, he sauntered over to the couch, setting his glass down and moving to shrug out of his jacket as he did, shirt still on and spread, mimicking Leonard's actions. "Would you really care if you had?"

"I might be smug about it," Len said with a smirk.

Now that Lucifer was sitting, he scooted over and slipped his arms around the other man's neck again, seeking another kiss, less chaste than the last. The shirt spread slightly at the move and if Lucifer looked, he'd see a hint of scars revealed. Lewis Snart, Len's father, had been diligent in teaching his son to steal, using fists and broken bottles and even knives to drive the lessons home.

What he didn't see, he'd feel as his hand moved to slide under the shirt. His fingers were deft, gentle as they skimmed over marks and scars that outlined what made the man so cautious better than words ever could. It didn't make him draw back. If anything, he deepened the kiss, hand continuing to move over Leonard's scarred skin, testing the waters to see if any of the marks caused pain or if they were more sensitive, like his own. "Nothing wrong with smug," he murmured, nipping at Leonard's lower lip as his other hand moved to tug the man closer.

Len tensed up, freezing and all but vibrating with the tension when Lucifer not only touched the scars but began to explore them. Nothing caused pain - not physical pain, anyway - but to his surprise, this gorgeous man who could have anyone didn't even blink.

He slowly relaxed, reassured as Lucifer even pulled him closer. "I'm told I'm generally too smug, but they just don't understand how amazing I am," he joked, struggling to gather up his dignity and form his armour again.

His own hands moved liberally, pushing Lucifer's shirt off of his shoulders. His mouth moved down, kissing and biting his way down Lucifer's neck.

"Funny, I'm told the same thing." Especially by a certain Detective. Rude.

When Leonard actually relaxed enough to move, to lean into him and to push at his shirt, Lucifer reached for his hips, pulling him to straddle his lap, which would just make a little make out session with physical exploring easier on both of them. He tipped his head to the side, feeling that pleasant shiver of sensation when teeth caught at his skin, his hands skimming up under Leonard's shirt before he had to remove them to let his own shirt slide off.

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Haha, sorry. I wrote it up and posted before seeing you'd edited. >>

No worries I love this XD Len really is ridiculous enough to wear a parka indoors in LA so it's fine

Gosh, Len. Talk about overheating.

He wouldn't even get naked in a Russian bathhouse. Canon.

Lenny, Lenny, Lenny...

Bitched and moaned about how hot it was, too. Don't be fooled, he's a massive dork.

/drags him to hell. "Hot enough for you?"

Oh god worst

Pool party!

He'll happily sit on the side of the pool, fully dressed and reading a book

Rude. Get in the pool, Lenny.

You're not the boss of me

I could be =|

Nope :[

Let me check my employee roster. Yep. You're on it.

Funny, I didn't realize I had a job

Well, not anymore you don't. =|

good. I like money and hate working. that's why I'm a criminal ;)

Pff.

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