Balthazar goes out drinking.

To his surprise, he finds Lucifer as his company.

He becomes wary at first, but after a drink or five, he decides that his brother, while still clearly a bratty douchebag, isn't so much of a bad company when it comes to drinking. A bottle of Champagne, maybe some exquisite hard liquor from a cost off Scotland (Lucifer didn't like it very much though, he pronounced it as being 'vile'), another bottle of Champagne, some Cognac, some more bottles of clear liquid from very cold places, and soon, Balthazar was intoxicated enough to cave in to his brother's suggestion that he let him stay over the night. Why not? Besides, he needed someone to brag about the new paint job.

and the next morning, he finds himself in the residue of this jolly gay night.

God.

Taking the name of the lord in vain and all, but this was one bloody headache.

It reminded him of that one time when Balthazar was trying to woo the pagan god of thunder and he had responded in a startled banging on the side of his gloriously styled head with that blasted hammer of his. Bloody pop-tart munching pagan. He did have really stunning eyes though, and didn't mean too much harm- SERVANT OF HEAVENS! YOU HAVE STARTLED ME! I MUST INQUIRE YOUR STATE OF HEALTH! but enough fond memories, his vessel's head was going to explode sooner or later. Balthazar was just on the verge of willing a whole pharmacy's worth of drugs to appear when a electric pain jolted through his temples.

" I am damned and now in bloody hell. Oh, for god's sake, ow."

Balthazar managed to push himself up from between the sheets, and spread and check out his wings, just in case they were torn straight off from his shoulder blades, or shown any sign of wear, a classic sign of the fallen. Nope. The sleek, well groomed feathers were truly basking in glory, unlike the state of their owner's vessel. Balthazar let out a sigh of relief, and willed a glass of orange juice to appear at his bedside. Blood orange, just on the right side of bitter. He was about to start relishing the beverage when he heard a gruff, relaxed voice addressing him.

" Good morning, brother."

The exquisitely produced glass of juice was dispersed from Balthazar's mouth to all over the 800 thread count linen sheets. It looked and felt like a pint of blood on the sheets.

At the entrance of his well furnished bed room was Lucifer himself, dressed in a fluffy white bathrobe that was Balthazar's own. It sagged a bit along the shoulders, obviously being a bit large for him. This would have been an adorable feature on a spicy little redhead or perhaps a naughty brunette, but this blond was getting nothing out of it- in fact, Balthazar felt a sick lurch from his stomach, which he was sure that did not come from the consumption of massive amount of alcohol the last few hours ago.

Lucifer. Out of all the beings in this god-made world. He was his own brother, for one thing. Even he, the self-proclaimed angel of love-making, had limits. Still chocking up the last bit of orange pulp that had unpleasantly stuck up in his throat, Balthazar managed to open his mouth.

" What, what- what the bloody hell are you doing here, Lucifer? "
" Well. I believe it's the requisite ritual for those who have spent the night together. What was it called? Oh, yes, the "morning after," I think it was? Hrm."

Lucifer cocked his head a bit over the terms, and then narrowed his eyes, his face breaking out into a truly devilish smile. Balthazar bolted. Wings intact or not, he was now positive that he was in hell. That bloody damned brother of his had dragged him straight to the deepest pits of the earth, and was pretty much determined not to let go.

" What? What do you mean, 'spend the night together ?' You can't be serious, did we, did you... "

" Oh, you're talking about what, sex? Isn't it obvious, my brother? Yes."

The bastard deliberately stretched out the syllables in his 'yes,' making him sound like the fork tongued serpent that he was. Balthazar had an instant vision of the very tongue sliding up against his own, his moans being suppressed under a rough and cold hand, the other pawing at his-

" Bottom too, you took it in like a little whore-"

Lucifer's rather sincerely delivered phrase was all it took to tip the other angel over. His look of incredibility and shock would have made Dean Winchester pee his pants with glee.

" no. "

" yes."

" NO ! "

Lucifer had walked up to him in his own plush terry cloth slippers, also a bit loose around the edges, and sat down at the edge of his bed. The violently red stains had miraculously disappeared. Balthazar began contemplating his own death while Lucifer attempted to demonstrate something that was aimed towards comfort. It was clearly off-target.

" No need to be ashamed, brother. You know, with the Winchesters and all, incest is- what was it? Oh, trending. It's in fashion. "

" Sod off, Lucifer. Go back to your bloody hell."

" That's not what you said."

This bastard was clearly enjoying this. Balthazar felt a vein throb in his vessel's temples. He dug his head into one of the outrageously soft down pillows and let forth a few muffled curse words, along with a few vows never to drink again. Lucifer observed with a pleasantly calm air as his brother lifted his head back and screamed.

" How the hell could you fuck ME? "

" I thought it might be fun to fuck with you, pun intended. You're really bendy, did you know? I had no idea your vessel could do things like that. Look ma, no grace! "

The devil held up both of his hands in a mocking gesture. Balthazar glared, the fire in his eyes was possibly now a considerable component of the global warming.

" You are a split tongue bastard and you know it."

" You like my tongue."

Another vision came flashing into his addled nerves. A cold serpent tongue was coiling around the base of his cock, just overlapping the bit of flesh that brought a tingle of sensation running up and down his spine. An equally cold hand ran and traced his back, suddenly setting the nails into the skin, leaving a raw stripe of red along with a burst of sensation that made his own hands dig into Lucifer's limp, soft hair, barely being able to suppress a stifling-

" You know, I never knew you were a moaner, Balthazar. Always thought you were more of the screaming kind. Expressive."

" Please shut up."

Lucifer gave a slight shrug, and looked over his shoulder with a trace of a crooked smile on his face. The angel was gone. Perhaps he had gone off for an emergency spa at the Cyprus*. Lucifer chuckled lightly, then burrowed his outburst into the insanely soft towels of Balthazar's. Sure, his brother was possibly a nymphomaniac little douche, but one had to admit he had excellent tastes.

Lucifer was just about to go pick up his own clothes, shed about the marble tiles of the bathroom, when he heard the shuffling of wings. Gabriel stood in the room, an eyebrow raised and looking particularly pleased of himself. He held a can of beer in his hand, which he popped open as he sat down next to Lucifer on the bed.

" Hey. Luce."

" Hello, Gabriel."

Lucifer reached out and stole a swig from Gabriel's beer, and then made a face. Gabriel stared at his scowling brother for a moment, and then swiped the opening of the can with his thumb before he took a drink himself.

" Luce. You should really know better. You didn't really fuck him, did you."

" No. Balthazar was always the more... imaginative type. "

" You are the devil."

" Oh, yes I am, Gabriel. Yes I am."

Hanging out with his brothers was fun, once in a while.
He should really do this more often, Lucifer mused to himself, trying to suppress the last tinges of laughter.

* Cyprus is the waters in which the goddess Venus was proclaimed to be born. Anyone who bathes in the water supposedly renews her virginity.