Out Of Control

Summary: After losing his temper and nearly doing something he can't take back, Lucifer gets help from the only person he can: his best friend. Follows Big Brother's Responsibility

Warning(s): Spanking; spoilers up to and including the end of part 6 of the game; some references to violence and mentions of character death

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“I nearly lost one of them today...Beel.” Lucifer spoke in a low, haunted voice. He was showing weakness in front of Diavolo he could never reveal in front of his brothers. Did Beelzebub even realise how close to true death he'd come? If it hadn't been for the human jumping in front of Beel and Luke...if Diavolo hadn't come running up when he did...if Lucifer hadn't managed to listen to his friend....

Lucifer knew what his temper could and had cost him. After all, Satan had only come into being due to his rage; had become something more than wrath thanks to the combined efforts of Lucifer and the rest of his brothers. And Satan hated him. Most days, Lucifer wasn't sure Satan was wrong. Most days, he hated himself.

“Do they even know?” Diavolo's question broke into Lucifer's thoughts.

Shaking his head, Lucifer focused fully on his friend. “Know what?”

“Just how important they are to you. Just how much you would sacrifice to keep them safe.” Diavolo paused and softened his voice as he asked, “Do they know how much you love them?”

Lucifer remembered the past two times he'd spanked Mammon; when his younger brother had cuddled with him, even in front of their other brothers. And then he thought about his youngest brother. About how he'd imprisoned Belphegor and let the others believe that he'd gone to the human world. And then he thought further back; to rebelling against their father. And what it had ultimately cost all of them. “We don't act like we love each other. At least most of the time.”

“Well, I can't tell you how to show them that,” Diavolo said. “But I can help you stop beating yourself up with guilt.”

“There's nothing you can do that will remove all of the guilt I feel.” Lucifer's voice was low. Haunted. He didn't regret rebelling, but he regretted what it had cost all of them. More than anything, he regretted Lilith's death. It had hit all of them hard. And he knew his brothers all grieved her death, though none more so than Beelzebub. It didn't matter how much he told his brother it wasn't his fault, that Beelzebub had been left with an impossible choice, Lucifer knew the war had left scars that might never heal.

“Perhaps you're right,” Diavolo agreed. “But you wouldn't trust any of your brothers with helping you. You can't be seen to be out of control.”

“But I was.” Lucifer's chest felt hollow as he whispered, “I would have killed them. Human, angel, demon. My own brother.” He stared down at his hands, thinking of the blood that stained them. He'd killed many of his brothers and sisters in the rebellion, but that had been war. This? This would have been murder.

“Lucifer.”

Lucifer raised his eyes to his friend's face. He met Diavolo's eyes and took a deep breath. “Physical punishment won't touch most of the guilt that troubles me, but it will at least help me look myself in the eye after what I came so close to doing.”

“Very well.” Diavolo walked over towards his desk, resting against the far edge of the room. He paused by it and waited.

Lucifer knew he could refuse. Knew he could just say no and walk away. Diavolo wouldn't stop him. Wouldn't force him to submit to this. It would be all too easy to walk away.

But every time he closed his eyes, he saw the look on Beel's face. The fear. He never wanted to put that look on his brother's face again. He never wanted any of them to fear him. But if he was going to make it up to Beel, he heeded to let go of the guilt plaguing him. And Lucifer knew, as well as his best friend did, that letting go of the guilt himself was nigh on impossible.

He just wished it wasn't so painful.

Lucifer's steps were slow and measured as he walked over to the desk. He leaned forward and bent over, reaching out to grab onto the far edge with a white-knuckled grip.

The next moment, he felt Diavolo's hand rest gently on his back, rubbing lightly. “What's your safe-word?”

“I don't need it.” Lucifer's response was given almost automatically. “I trust you.” He allowed himself to relax at the comforting touch. Allowed his best friend to see him vulnerable and needing help, because he couldn't show that to his brothers. They couldn't see him as anything other than their big brother; fully in control and never questioning himself.

“I know you do,” Diavolo answered. “But I want you to tell me anyway.”

“Yellow.” It was a not so subtle reminder of Satan; who he called brother, but considered his son. No matter what the younger demon thought of him, Lucifer didn't want to cross the line. No matter that the others knew what he was capable of; he was always very careful not to allow Satan to see even a hint of what his true nature was.

Diavolo didn't respond with words, but Lucifer heard him step away. Heard a drawer get opened and knew, without looking, that his friend was taking out a thick, wide, black leather belt.

Lucifer kept his face determinedly turned away as he heard Diavolo step back to his side. He forced himself to relax his body, to allow the tension to seep from it, as he felt the leather strap rest against the fullest part of his backside.

The first stripe made his body jerk and left behind a line of fire. He clenched his fingers tight, breathed in deep and forced himself to stay bent over in position as a second stripe landed just below the first. The third line of fire burned lower still, this time across his thighs, and he couldn't help but let out a low groan.

The initial set of stripes didn't overlap, but by the time Diavolo had completed a second circuit of strikes, Lucifer was shifting from one foot to the other, his fingers clenching and unclenching around the desk. Every instinct told him to stand and put a stop to the punishment. Especially when the strap returned to his sit spots and his thighs.

Lucifer didn't realise he was trying to stand up until he felt Diavolo's hand on his back, pushing him back down. Rage and anger simmered beneath the surface, demanding he set it free. Demanding he put a stop to the strapping. He was so caught up in keeping control of himself, he didn't realise his friend had paused; at least not until he felt his pants being tugged down.

Gripping the edge of the desk even tighter, Lucifer held back the cries that wanted to escape as Diavolo continued the strapping, this time with only the thin material of Lucifer's boxers as protection; and they didn't provide any protection for his thighs. When the strap hit the bare skin there, it felt like he'd been branded with liquid fire.

Diavolo's hand remained on Lucifer's back, holding him down, even as the belt slapped down with unerring force and accuracy.

It didn't take long before it was impossible to distinguish the individual stripes from each other. Lucifer's entire bottom felt like an inferno, from the crest down to his thighs. Gradually becoming aware of the fact that Diavolo had stopped, he also realised there were tears filling his eyes.

Diavolo's hand still rested on Lucifer's back, holding him down. After several moments, rubbing gently, he began to speak. “You keep an iron control over yourself, Lucifer. It's not such a surprise that you'd lose control. That you'd risk doing something you regret.”

“That I'd risk killing one of my brothers.” Lucifer almost didn't recognise his own voice, as hollow as it sounded. His eyes watered, tears spilling down his cheeks. “I would have been responsible for Beel's death.”

“You take too much on yourself,” Diavolo stated. “And you don't allow yourself the same leeway you give your brothers. Give yourself room to make mistakes.”

“My mistakes can get the people I love killed,” Lucifer muttered.

“You try to be father and brother to them. Try to shield them from the consequences of the mistakes they make. You need someone to step in with you. I'm here for you, my friend,” Diavolo said gently. “When you have to be strong for them, I can be strong for you.”

Lucifer slumped and slowly loosened his hold on the table edge. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice catching.

Diavolo's hand rubbed a bit longer and then he moved away. “Take as much time as you need to regain your composure.”

“And then I have some apologies and explanations to make.” Lucifer stood up slowly, replacing his clothing. Then, seeing Diavolo holding an arm out to him, he took a deep breath and stepped forward, into his friend's embrace.

The End