[ And finally, there he comes - the hero of the night. Lucifer doesn't pause in his playing, though his gaze strays sideways from the windows and the city lights as James crosses over, grabbing his designated drink. It's an invitation, certainly. But it's interesting, all the same, how he presumes straight out of the gate. Gutsy of him, really.

There's something about his energy that gets his blood pumping. ]

Are you?

[ He doesn't bother eye-fucking him, seeing as he's already done so a-plenty and besides, he's curious about the package underneath more so than the wrapping. That's another interesting aspect of this whole... situation, isn't it, how he's getting all hot and bothered for a bloke who, on the physical level, more or less mirrors everyone else he's ever hired, none of whom he's actually fucked.

Indeed, what's so special about little James who's studied religion and failed to make it his living? Not like it doesn't happen, after all, that people immerse themselves in religion, philosophy, the questions and answers related to existence, only to push all that complexity aside for the sake of carnal pleasure, the simpler things. Isn't that human nature?

It is, isn't it. ]

Then perhaps you should get with the programme, James.

[ He locks eyes with the other man. Smiles, sharply. ]

I'm rather anxious about getting you naked, you understand. All these preliminary maneuvers, they aren't really doing it for me.

[ He reaches for his glass and takes a sip, leaving his left hand to keep the dark tones of the melody floating between them. The piano has a bright sound, crisp. ]