Balthazar wishes he could say he has some amount of emotional depth, but that would be a flat-out lie. He knows it. He's not an idiot and he's not a liar—he's just shallow. He's long since accepted it as a facet of his personality.
He's even managed to make some actual good friends despite this. Admittedly, he's slept with them at one point or another, but after the heat of the moment (or moments, as is sometimes the case), they worked their way into a surprisingly easy friendship. And it's not that he doesn't like people, because he does. He just doesn't like to dig particularly deep, at least not at first.
He knows more about Gabriel than he ever suspected he would during their initial tryst. Not that it wasn't fun (because it definitely was—Gabriel has quite an imagination, leading to several extremely interesting encounters, including one involving handcuffs, a feather boa, a can of whipped cream, and the mall parking lot), but after the sexual aspect of their relationship ended, he fully expected the shorter man to clear out. Instead, they started hanging out as friends, and even after Gabriel started dating this woman named Kali, they stayed friends. That still impresses Balthazar, who still assumes that his own shallow nature will eventually drive people away, even though he does have some good friends.
So when Castiel and Gabriel invite him bar-hopping with them, he immediately agrees. Proverbially speaking, business has been slow lately, and he's looking forward to getting out of the apartment and into a stranger's bed (and even the stranger part is open for debate, even though he knows Castiel and Gabriel are both dating other people and probably aren't interested in sleeping with him). He's going to have fun tonight, because if there's one thing he doesn't do when he has a mind for it, it's go home alone.
And he's right. They go to a new bar, one Gabriel has been to before, and almost immediately, his gaze zeroes in on the strawberry blond in a booth in the corner, wearing a shirt so tight and a grin so seductive that he has to be after the same thing Balthazar is. The strawberry blonds also wears a pair of glasses with the lenses lightly tinted blue and, if anything, the glasses only improve the look. He can't be sure, but he thinks he sees the stranger's eyes flick toward him for a moment. Unbidden, a smirk stretches across his face, so he turns to the bar to order a drink and hide the look.
He supposes he should have realized that someone would notice, though. Gabriel smirks knowingly at him. "Target acquired?" the shorter man jokes, waggling his eyebrows.
"Acquired and engaged," Balthazar says with a smirk and the tiniest of glances back at the strawberry blond. He's staring into another corner of the bar now with a gaze so intense, it might just melt a hole in the wall. He can probably charm the pants off a houseplant. Balthazar's interest has been piqued, that's for damn sure.
When he glances back at the bar, he notices another man sitting on a bar stool, three shots of what looks like whiskey lined up in front of him. He's got dark hair and eyes, and a face that's equally as handsome as the strawberry blond in the corner, but in a different way—this one is almost surly-looking, but the grin he flashes at the bartender lights up his whole face. Without another moment of hesitation, he knocks the shots back one by one until each of the glasses is empty and overturned in front of him. Then he shakes his head at the bartender, hands over a credit card, and waits for the bartender to bring it back with a pen and a receipt.
Castiel, meanwhile, wanders back over from the jukebox as Gabriel says, "Not that I can figure why you're angling for someone this early. We have like four more stops to make after this."
"Got your eye on someone already?" Castiel asks, tilting his head to the side.
"It doesn't hurt to look around," Balthazar says simply. "Besides, however unlikely, there is always the possibility of rejection."
Gabriel snorts with laughter. "Unlikely is right. I can't think of a single person who'd say no to you."
Balthazar grins and shrugs in acceptance. It's not that he's forceful—he can always tell when his advances are unwelcome and gracefully backs out whenever it's the case, and he always takes the first no for an answer. Despite being as shallow as he is, he can read people extraordinarily well. It's his sheer magnetism that has most people saying yes to him, and he's never one to turn down a proposal someone else makes toward him.
Within ten minutes, Castiel and Gabriel are trading shots and Balthazar's still eyeing the strawberry blond. Every once in awhile, the bartender slinks over to his table with another drink and the stranger grins and nods, accepting it. Aside from him, though, no one else has seemed to notice him. So Balthazar finally decides to make his approach. Drink in hand and heart pounding a little harder than he's comfortable to admit, he approaches the strawberry blond's table. "Evening," he says with an easy smile.
Despite the glasses, those eyes of his are brilliant as he suddenly looks up at Balthazar with a wide grin. "Hey. Nice accent. British?"
Damned if that grin doesn't make his heart skip a beat and send heat pooling in his gut. His voice never wavers, though. "French by birth, learned English in Great Britain." He readjusts his expression to form what he knows to be a knee-melting smile and continues. "Decided to skip across the pond about fifteen years ago, though."
Somehow, the strawberry blond is not only still capable of coherent thought, but coherent speech as well. "You've made yourself at home then." The teasing tone practically drips from his voice. "Want to sit down?" he adds, gesturing to the booth seat next to him.
"Yeah, sure," Balthazar responds, trying and not quite succeeding to keep his voice casual. "What are you drinking?" he adds.
"Just Coke. I don't really like alcohol that much." The stranger's lips quirk up into a self-deprecating smile. "I run into enough inanimate objects when I'm sober. I'm Lu, by the way." The strawberry blonde holds out his hand, and Balthazar immediately shakes it.
"Balthazar. Nice to meet you." If Lu finds his name funny—he's gotten raised eyebrows, a few people asking him to repeat himself, and Gabriel straight-up burst out laughing—it doesn't show on his face. For some reason, it reassures him. Not that anything else would discourage him, because he's gotten past awkward first encounters before. It's just nice to not be looked at like he's an alien.
"Yeah, definitely. So what brings you to this fine establishment tonight?"
"Barhopping with a few friends of mine." He hates to admit, even to himself, that he's only half-focused on the conversation now. Lu swallowed almost immediately after asking his question and now Balthazar's fighting the urge to stare at his throat, wondering what kind of sounds Lu will make in bed (he'll probably be soft and breathy at first, but once they get into a rhythm, he'll get louder, which is just how Balthazar likes his partners—vocal and responsive), if he's a screamer (there's a heady rush to his pulse just contemplating that possibility and he decides he likes the idea of Lu waking up hoarse tomorrow morning from shouting tonight), if he's a top or a bottom (he's definitely giving off some "top" vibes, but that doesn't mean much—he could just as easily be a very confident bottom or, Balthazar's favorite, one who likes to switch). It's an uphill battle to stay attentive to the conversation. "You're not here alone, are you?"
Lu shakes his head. "Nah, my brother's around here somewhere, not that I can see him." He lifts his glasses slightly to rub the bridge of his nose as Balthazar casts a quick glance around the rest of the bar. He doesn't see anyone who looks like he could be Lu's brother. It's plausible that his brother doesn't look a thing like him, though.
"Is your brother your wingman?" Balthazar half-jokes.
The strawberry blonde grins sheepishly and shakes his head. "More like my bodyguard. He's a bit… protective of me."
"Older brother then?"
"Yeah, not that five minutes means much."
"So he's your twin?"
"Yeah. We aren't identical, though, so most people don't realize it."
He has a feeling they're venturing into deeper waters here, but he can't help but ask. His curiosity is piqued, after all. Lu is an inch or two taller than him and definitely solid in build. Why he would need a bodyguard is beyond Balthazar. "So why is he so over-protective?"
Lu rubs the back of his neck, smiling nervously. "It's a bit of a long story," he says after a moment of contemplation.
"And?" Balthazar's curiosity is burning now. There is something serious here, he can feel it.
"And you probably don't want to hear it," he finishes, dropping his hand to the table before bringing his glass of Coke to his lips.
"Well, if you don't want to tell me, it's fine, but I am interested."
Lu thinks it over for a moment before his smile becomes a little more genuine. "Maybe next time. It's not exactly idle bar chat."
Balthazar wonders what happened. It obviously isn't a pleasant story, if the expression on Lu's face is anything to go by. "Alright," he says, keeping his voice light. "Next time."
Lu takes another swig of his Coke.
"So are you here often?" Balthazar asks to break the silence. It's a comfortable one, surprising him.
"Fairly often. Mikey likes it here. I like the ambiance. It's not a bad place to decompress. And karaoke Saturdays? I kill it," he jokes. "You're new here, though."
"Yeah. First time here. My friend Gabriel hinted that we'd be going elsewhere at some point tonight."
"Sounds like a big night. Celebrating something?"
"Actually, I believe we're just blowing off some steam. Nothing in particular."
Out of the corner of his eye—he'd fixed his gaze firmly on Lu—he sees the dark-haired man from the bar slide off his stool and make his way to the table where he and Lu sit. Balthazar is immediately on alert. He doesn't know who this guy is, but he suddenly looks like trouble, especially after hearing that apparently there's some reason Lu needed a bodyguard of some sort. He tenses up, preparing for a fight. This guy is possibly drunk and definitely looks like he's seen a few brawls in his day, just like he appears to be gearing up for another right now.
He stops in front of the table, still casting Balthazar a suspicious glance, and says, "Hey, Lu. Who's this?"
"Hey, Mikey," Lu says cheerily, flashing a grin in the direction of his brother's voice. He clearly didn't notice Mikey's approach, but Balthazar relaxed upon discovering this man's identity. "This is Balthazar. We've been talking."
Michael doesn't relax his aggressive posture. "I see. It's getting late—we should probably be getting out of here. You have work in the morning." Balthazar can hear the edge in his voice, basically confirming what he's suspected since Michael first started eyeballing him: Michael doesn't trust him.
Sure, Balthazar isn't the type of guy you'd want your daughter to date, but he isn't a bad person. He finds himself staring down Lu's brother even though he knows he certainly isn't doing anything to earn his trust.
Almost imperceptibly, Lu raises an eyebrow. "Alright, Mikey." He turns back to Balthazar, his drink forgotten on the table. "It was great to meet you."
"Yeah, you too," Balthazar says, finally breaking his stare down with Michael. He doesn't know what possesses him to ask—maybe it's Lu's bright blue eyes still on him or because he knows it'll piss Michael off even more, but he hears himself asking, "Can I give you my number?"
Michael looks to be about to assert himself between the blond and his brother, but Lu beats him to a response. A grin blooming across his face, he says, "Sure. Got a pen or a marker?"
"Yeah, hang on a tick." One thing he always has on him is a Sharpie. He picked up the habit in school and it never quite went away.
A muscle in Michael's jaw twitches as Balthazar scribbles his name and number across Lu's proffered forearm. The older brother was definitely pissed at this turn of events, but at least he's not about to do anything to stop it, considering Lu's obviously okay with it.
As soon as Balthazar caps his marker and puts it back in his pocket, Lu rattles off the blond's number to confirm he has it correct.
"Yeah, sorry," Balthazar says sheepishly. "I know my penmanship is utter shite."
"I know what you wrote," Lu says reassuringly, giving him a pleased smile. "Thanks."
"Not at all."
Lu aims one last grin in his direction before sliding out from behind the table. Michael levels a look that's as opposite as it's possible to be at him as well, pointedly waiting until Lu's taken a step toward the door before he turns, following half a step behind him. He puts his hand against his brother's shoulder as though steering him toward the exit, but Lu doesn't bother to shrug off the hand.
Balthazar lets out a tired sigh as soon as the door closes behind him and he clears out from behind the table as well. He drains his glass and heads back toward the bar, where Castiel and Gabriel are giggling over something the shorter man probably said, his honey-colored eyes alight with mischief.
"Aw, no bite?" Gabriel jokes, knocking back the rest of his drink.
"Actually, I gave him my number."
He raises his eyebrows in surprise. "That's a new one. Are you..." He feigned an overly-dramatic gasped. "Thinking of settling down?"
"Shut up. It's just my number, not a marriage proposal."
Castiel grins and nudges Balthazar's arm playfully. "I admit, I never expected that from you. I thought you never gave out your number."
Balthazar glances toward the door that Lu and his brother had walked out of, as though he would still be able to see the strawberry blond. "Well, I did this time. Are we moving along or not?"