The Mafia's Bride and Groom's (fxmxmxm)

And what did they find?

Nya found herself dressed in one of Lucifer's long sleeve shirts and a pair of lace panties. Drafty and hot at the same time, Nya was carried into bed where she rode out the remainder of her high, curled facefirst in the soft bedsheets that smell like Lucifer and Angel and Will and heaven. 

The boy's fight. 

"Stop touching that."

"Will started it."

"I'm about to fucking finish it-"

"Get in the shower. Both of you. Angle- hands. off."

Their bickering continues behind the bathrooms closed door but it doesn't take very long for Will to come rushing out as Angel begins to make lude noises, louder than the running showerhead. 

"Fuck," Will grumbles under his breath, taking a long drag of the cold air as water drips off him, pooling on the dark floor. "Fuck." Again. 

Will's gone for a moment but then there's a shadow over Nya and she cracks one eye open to find Will watching her. "Did Lucy dress you?" He asks with a blush painting his cheeks, his hands rolling up the sleeve to his long sleeve shirt as he takes everything in. 

Nya still doesn't have her translator on so she gives him a knowing smile and a meaningless shrug, her shoulders press into the bed, her face too as she rubs her cheek against the comforter. Will curses under his breath and pretends not to take in Nya's curves, the way the t-shirt rides up her thighs, exposing long thin legs. Beautiful-

Before Will can pull a blanket over her she is suddenly vibrant with new energy. She pushes up off the bed and gives Will a pat on the shoulder and a slap on the ass, as she passes him and runs back in the bathroom. Lucifer and Angel's noises escape the running water when the bathroom door opens but Nya is quick to get in and out, and shut it again before shes tempted to go back in there. 

"I hate them," Will grumbles, collapsing onto the bed even though his eyes never stop tracking Nya. He never looks away from under long, light lashes. His honey eyes are dark and dangerous.  

Nya smiles at him, rolling her eyes because the boys always replace the word 'love' with hate because perhaps such a word is too defining. Perhaps if they say it out loud it makes it true and that is the scariest part of it all. Nya is much braver than them, than all of them. 

Will's eyes narrow. "What are you doing?"

Nya hops back into bed but scoots far to close to Will. She's right in front of him- and now she's pushed his legs apart so she can sit between his thighs. She carries a small bag of sorts and takes out two hair bands, hair ties, and face lotion. 

Will gives her a look that says "absolutely not" but a moment later Nya is tying her wet hair in a messy bun, a black band pushing baby hairs away from her face, and Will is also wearing a band though his hair is too short to get in the way. 

He likes the way she pulled it over his head, the way she treats him like glass as she lightly touches his ears, his jaw, his face. Will is not delicate but she treats him like precious jewels, like something beautiful and wonderous under her nimble fingers.

Before she goes for the face lotion she gives Will a serious look. Somberly she signs, "Tell me about Westwood" because she doesn't know the history yet and because Angel is currently distracted. She doesn't want to upset their resident sex addict. She herself hasn't fully grasped the idea surrounding the people who hurt Angel, who attacked Will, and for that she needs him to tell her the story.  

Will takes a long breath and debates if he should tell her, debates how he should tell her of his history with Blair. But she needs to know right? She has to know.