My Reaper x Lucio fanfiction that I finally translated into English.
I guess it’s M, since there is a sex scene though I didn’t describe it in details, it’s just a hint... sort of. Anyway, hope you enjoy because there is so few LuciPer/Reapcio content it hurts me I love this ship so much please help
Despite rumors and popular beliefs his body is actually very warm.
It probably has something to do with his cells – the never-ending process of decay and regeneration creates so much energy, that every time Lucio happens to be nearby, he is washed over by a burning wave of heat. For some reason the man reminds him of the sun in Rio-de-Janeiro, familiar and dear, and his common sense is screaming at him not to give in to this weird, but alluring feeling. However, Lucio is not known for his self-preservation – breaking into Vishkar’s office and all – so he constantly takes the risk and hangs around the infamous Reaper every time he gets a chance.
Turns out they have a lot in common, though it is difficult to imagine just what exactly could connect a terrorist and a famous DJ. They understand each other well, thanks to Spanish and Portuguese being somewhat similar. They are both familiar with the battlefield, they both are adrenalin junkies and, as it turns out, they are both annoyed by Jack Morrison. Lucio always complains about just how meticulous this „strict old man“ can be and Reaper laughs, his voice low, warm and a little bit sad, and Lucio guesses that he has his reasons to dislike the old soldier, but he doesn’t want to get into someone else’s business, even though he is burning with curiosity.
The touch of those black gloves feels like stage lights after a concert - searing hot. So are the kisses – it feels like they would cover his skin in blisters, but there is no pain. On the contrary, Lucio feels lightheaded, being surrounded by such warm hands and hums approvingly, biting down slightly on the long tongue exploring his mouth. Reaper laughs silently, and this movement makes Lucio’s chest warm and fuzzy inside.
When Lucio feels this heat inside him for the first time, he lets out a shuddering breath and digs into the muscular shoulders with his fingers. The once dark and tanned, now pale skin looks almost white-hot in the darkness of the hotel room, and the fingernails draw long red lines on it, which immediately heal themselves, dissolving into black smoke. Crimson eyes narrow quizzically and a hot chuckle burns the lips, and Lucio feels like he’s drowning in molten steel. A scream is bubbling up in his throat and fireworks are going haywire under his eyelids and he thinks that he is burnt to ashes. He presses his entire body closer and can’t force himself to open his eyes, afraid that he might go blind because of the heat around him, on the inside, on the outside, everywhere. He is so exhausted that he immediately falls asleep once the heat gives in to the usual warmth, and when he wakes up, the space beside him is empty and the pillow is a bit squished. Lucio pulls it closer.
The pillow is still warm.
