A/N: Small break from my actual fic, I bring you this small oneshot! Today is my sis Em's birthday (and mine too, ha!), and she requested something Gabriel-y with Balcifer on the side.
I admit, it's a ship I never would have thought of, but Em reads some interesting fanfiction, stumbled upon Balcifer, shared the beauty around and voila, I was hooked. As for Gabriel, it was high time he got to be in the spotlight, being the love and light of my life, as well as my favourite fictional character. Will definitely write some more stuff from his point of view!
As to the fic itself, it's set in the same 'verse as my other fic, Barstool Blues. Totally not necessary to read it beforehand, but if you like Balthazar and English pubs, and would like to have a little more background on the references in this story, go check it out!
Now, onto the good stuff!
Contrary to popular belief, Gabriel understood a lot of things. Chemistry? Piece of cake. Fixing a broken washing machine? Been there, done that. The Stock Exchange? Nothing easier (thank you, Michael). Baking? Please.
But for the life of him, he didn't understand the innermost workings of his brother's mind.
Seriously, had Balthazar been interested in Gabriel, and had the Novak been gay, he would have been all over that in a second. So what was Lucifer waiting for? What were both of them waiting for?
Assessing the situation: both available, both swinging the same way (Lu being bisexual, and Balth banging anything and everything), both obviously enjoying the other's company. Why neither had thought of setting up a date together was a riddle wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma.
So he stressed again: he just didn't understand it.
And it wasn't like Gabriel didn't have proof. Oh, no. He had loads of proof. Heaps of it. Everest-sized mountains of it.
Exhibit A: Lucifer enters the pub, makes beeline for Balthazar's spot at the bar. Balth drops everything like a hot potato and gives him free drinks. Sure, it didn't exactly scream true love, but the Brit took pride in his alcohol. He didn't just give that shit out free of charge.
Exhibit B: the constant ass-slapping. And innuendos. Innuendos everywhere.
And exhibit-fucking-C: the fact that neither had gotten laid since forever. Not even a one-night stand. There were only two types of people who didn't have one-night stands: celibates, and people in love.
And neither Lucifer nor Balthazar were exactly virgins.
Gabriel sighed into his shot glass, looked over to the bar for the fifth time that evening, and groaned at what he saw. The two were just standing there, three feet away from one another, pretending like they didn't want to fuck the ever-loving shit out of each other. Then Balthazar sidestepped the bar to clean up one of the tables, earning a slap on the ass from Lucifer (oh, hey, there was a surprise) in passing, and Gabriel's mind was made up.
Something had to be done. Immediately. It hurt to watch them any longer. And boy, was Gabe gonna have some fun with this.
He put his plan in motion at work the following morning. While he rolled dough or popped open ovens or applied icing on his cakes, he thought hard about the best way to approach the situation. Obviously, it wouldn't be like any normal set-up, because Balthazar and Lucifer already knew each other. And that was what made it so damn difficult. With normal people, the first date naturally came around after running into each other a few times. But with two exceptionally blind individuals like those two, Gabriel was going to have to do it by force.
He made notes and scribbles the entire morning and worked well into the afternoon, refusing to stop until it was perfect. At fifteen past seven, an hour after he had gotten home from work, it was done. Grinning madly, he looked it over. He'd need to pull some strings, make a few calls, get an accomplice or two, but this was it. The flawless way to hook up your two friends without being suspected (much).
Phase One: The Accidental Meet-Up
"Gabriel."
"Yeah."
"What are we doing?"
"Walking."
Lucifer sent him an unimpressed glare. "It is ten in the morning in the middle of fucking February, and I'm freezing my damn ass off. Why are we walking?" he growled.
Gabriel patted his stomach through his thick winter jacket. "Burning off the winter flab. I've been getting a lil' chubby."
Lucifer countered with the roll of his eyes. "Michael's got a gym membership, why not just ask him?" the blond grumbled.
"Are you kidding me? Mike would have me actually exercise," Gabriel pointed out. The other snorted as the phone vibrated in the brunet's pocket. Gabriel's head suddenly snapped behind them, and his finger followed as he cried, "Look there!"
Instinctively, Lucifer whipped around, and the younger Novak took the chance to fish his phone out. "What?" Lucifer demanded.
"Look! That... dog!"
"What dog?"
"That Labradoodle there!" Gabriel insisted, working the combo lock on the touch screen. "Where are you?!" he hissed into the mouthpiece quietly.
"Patience, darling. I hear it's a virtue," Crowley drawled. "We're right around the corner."
"Who was that?" Gabriel inwardly groaned when he didn't stuff the phone back into his pocket quickly enough.
"Oh, just one of my peeps, asking who's order's going where," Gabriel replied, trying to look as nonchalant as possible as he scoped the park around them. "You see that Labradoodle?"
"No." He could tell he was in serious danger of fucking up by the way Lucifer squinted at him. "C'mon. Let's go home-" The blond suddenly stumbled over his words, trailing off lamely, and Gabriel didn't have to look behind him to sigh in relief. Lucifer grinned dazedly, a flush (either from cold or excitement, or both) present on his face.
"Well, lookie here!" Gabriel feigned an Oscar-worthy tone of surprise. "Crowley, Balthazar! How are you on this fine, winter's morn?"
One of the earliest things that occurred to Gabriel was that Lucifer and Balthazar rarely saw each other outside the Brit's pub, and he hoped a change of scenery would get the gears in their heads working. Crowley had been only too happy to help out with Gabe's little plan, and he was the only one close enough to Balthazar to successfully lure him outside without seeming suspicious. He was also the only one who was always up at ten AM on a Saturday.
"Crowley wanted a bit of fresh air, talked me into coming along," Balthazar replied to the brunet, though his eyes were trained on Lucifer. "What about you?"
"Gabriel's getting fat," the other blond replied as if it explained everything, and Gabriel gave a sheepish shrug.
As the two lovebirds fell into step with each other, the brunet slunk over to Crowley. "You took your sweet-ass time," he muttered.
"Princess was a pain to get up," the Scot returned. "I can't believe you're actually doing this, Gabriel."
"Yeah, but sweet Lord, they need the help," Gabriel said.
Crowley chuckled a small, "Hmph. Turns out you Novaks aren't as smooth as you thought."
"Hey, we're plenty smooth," the other insisted. "Just... a little slow on the uptake."
"Surprisingly, so am I. Why in God's name did you drag us all out here, other than to make us freeze to death?"
"C'mon, look around!" Gabriel insisted in a hush. "No one's here 'cept for us. They're secluded, have their privacy... One of them might get the hint. Plus, cold weather? Always a great excuse for snuggling."
"Gabriel Novak, a romantic. Never would've pinned you for one."
"Like my kick-ass cakes," the other stated, "I too have many hidden layers."
They moved onto a different topic, but Gabriel kept a close watch on his brother. There was plenty of chatter, laughs and rubbing shoulders between the two, and for a while Gabriel thought he'd come up with the other stages in the plan for no reason. But as the morning melted away into early afternoon, it was time to go, and Lucifer didn't seem any more different from his usual, sardonic self.
Nevertheless, this was only the first step. There was no way Gabriel would be backing down. He just had to up his game a little.
Phase Two: The First Date
The next part should have been ridiculously simple. But with Lucifer and Balthazar, nothing was ever simple.
Gabriel was lounging on Michael's sofa, feet propped up on the coffee table in front of him, feeling very much like a spoiled, fat cat. He had just gotten off the phone with one of his friends, who had owed him for that one time his dessert chef quit out of the blue. Michael himself sat just a few feet away at the computer desk, settling meetings, answering e-mails and reserving tickets for the two of them for one of the late-night showings.
Gabriel called the next number on his list, and snorted when Michael muttered a hushed, "Fucking Zachariah."
"Old douche-bag's being an idiot again?" the other inquired as the dial tone appeared.
Michael huffed an unamused confirmation. "You sure you don't want his job? Offer still stands."
"Nah, I'm happy with my cakes," Gabriel barely got the words out before the other line picked up. "Lucy, hey!"
A groan sounded from the other end. "Gabe. What is it?" Lucifer asked.
"Well, don't I feel special," Gabriel mumbled. "Thought I'd invite you to dinner, asshole. My treat." In the corner of his eye, he saw Michael mouth, "What?" and point at his computer screen, but Gabe pressed a finger to his lips in response.
"Don't feel like it."
"Come on, Lu! It's a great place, and I know the owner," he coaxed.
"Look, I'm tired, I've still got paperwork for Michael to finish-"
"Mike won't mind if you take the night off!" he responded, but Lucifer sighed on the other end.
"Gabe, I can't, okay? Look, I gotta go-"
Gabriel could tell he was definitely fighting a losing battle, so he pulled out the big guns as a last resort. "Fine, then it's just me and Balthazar, I guess."
A silence. "Balthazar?" Lucifer's attempt at nonchalance was adorable.
"Yeah, figured we'd hang out," he continued. "I don't get to talk to him much these days, and when I see him at the pub, he's always busy with others."
If Lucifer caught on to his brother's hint, he didn't let it show. Gabriel waited in anticipation as the other line turned quiet again. "All right, what's the address of this place?"
Gabriel punched the air silently. He rattled off the street name, told him to be there in a half-hour and added a reminder about wearing something nice ("Fuck you, I always wear something nice," was the reply he'd gotten), then hung up.
As he scrolled back up on his contact list, Michael spoke up again, "What was that about? I thought we were watching a movie-"
"Don't worry your pretty head about that, Mike. Movie's still on," his brother returned. He pressed 'call', and waited.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Balthazar. You busy?" Gabriel asked.
There was a hiss from the Brit. "Quite a bit, actually. Got a full house tonight. Some bloke's birthday."
Gabriel scowled, but decided to give it a try. "You up for some dinner?" he offered tentatively.
"I'd love to, Gabe, you know I would. But there's no way I can leave the pub." Shit, he'd been afraid of that. "Sorry."
"Doesn't matter." Totally mattered. "No problem." Absolutely a problem.
"Another time, maybe?"
"Yeah, okay. I'll see you." Gabriel sighed angrily as he crossed his arms, phone tucked away in his palm. Aware of Michael watching him, he wracked his brain for another option. If he cancelled on Lucifer now, he'd never hear the end of it. He was about to ask Michael if he wanted to go for dinner instead when a new idea struck him, and he pulled out his cell again. The number of the pub was beneath his thumb in two seconds flat.
"Yeah, what's up?"
"Anna! I need your help," Gabriel rushed. "Get Balthazar to take the night off!"
"Gabriel, are you nuts? He can't leave, you know how many people we have here-?"
"It's important!" And knowing he had no choice, he gave her a quick brief on what was going on.
"Okay, one: Finally! Jesus, they've been driving me crazy for months-" Anna all but squealed.
"And what's two?" Gabriel urged her.
"Even if I wanted to help, which I do, how the hell am I supposed to get him out? There's no way he's gonna agree."
"Look, just do it!" the other replied. "Announce mutiny, take over the pub and kick him out, get Cas to talk to him, punch him, anything!" He paused. "But, if you punch him, don't do it in the face."
"Yeah, got that." She sighed. "Hold on, I'll see what I can do."
"Are you planning on explaining what's going on?" Michael asked as his phone was tucked away.
"I'll explain when I make sure my plan still floats," Gabriel responded. "Just worry about getting your tickets."
The several minutes of waiting felt like an agonizing eternity. When the phone rang again, Gabriel nearly jumped from his skin. The cell screen lit up with the bright name Balthazar.
"Yeah?" he answered as calmly as he could.
"Turns out I'm free, or rather, my staff is trying to get rid of me," Balthazar said. "Anna's going to be the death of me."
"Well, who knows what's going on in that woman's head," Gabriel played along.
"Is the dinner invitation still up?"
After Gabriel gave him the address and the time, he finally settled back into the sofa and breathed a sigh of relief. "Not yet," he said when Michael opened his mouth to speak. "Still gotta make sure everything is A-okay."
So he stood from the sofa and checked on the seating Michael chose, which naturally turned into an argument, because Michael wanted to sit up front, while Gabriel preferred the back. Gabriel reasoned that he should just take his glasses along with him; a little-known fact was that Michael was shortsighted, but unlike Castiel, who wore contacts to work with the problem, the eldest Novak solved it by denying it completely. Why Michael was considered the most sensible of the siblings, Gabriel would never understand.
Their quarrel was settled when the brunet's phone rang again, and he simply told Michael to do what he wanted before he picked up.
"Lu, where are you?" he asked.
"At the restaurant. Where are you?" his brother retaliated.
"Aw, gee! I'm stuck in traffic, it looks like I'm not gonna make it," Gabriel sighed. "Shame."
"Traffic? What are you talking about? The place is a few blocks away from your apartment-"
"Well, I'm not home! And there's traffic!" Gabriel emphasized by yelling, "Come on! Get moving!" and added a hushed, "Michael, honk like a car."
Michael sent an unimpressed scowl, very reminiscent of the kind Gabriel often received from Lucifer (who was probably making the same grimace as well).
"So, yeah," he trailed off awkwardly. "Just you and Balthazar, then. He there yet?"
"Yeah, just sat down."
Perfect. "Well, tell him I'm sorry, I'll make it up. Totally promise. But I'm sure you two will have some fun."
"Gabriel-"
"Gotta go! My lane's moving! Bye!" Once he turned off the call, he yelled, "Yes!"
Michael watched him with fond suspicion from his seat at the computer.
"All right, now I'll explain," Gabriel announced. "I made a call to a friend of mine to reserve a table for two, and send me the bill later, even though I wouldn't be coming."
"Just Balthazar and Lucifer," Michael supplied.
"Exactly. Because if the mountain won't come to Mohammed..."
"Mohammed must go to the mountain." Michael smirked. "And what exactly have they failed to do that had you step in?"
Gabriel teased, "They're in love, duh."
"Ah, of course. And you have evidence to support this?"
"Mike, if I rolled out the evidence, we'd miss your movie." With a grin, Gabriel asked, "What time's the screening?"
"Quarter past twelve."
"Awesome. Let's see what you have in the fridge, Mikey. Might make something to eat before we go."
Phase Three: The Invite 'Upstairs'
Everyone was well-aware the universal "Would you like to come up for a drink?", also known as the Let's-Have-Sex Offer, only came after the second or third date, but seeing as Lucifer and Balthazar had no problem banging people they had just met, and the fact they didn't know they even had a first date, Gabriel decided to go for it. It was a bit of a risk, but the last two phases went incredibly well (God, Lucifer couldn't stop fucking blushing the following evening at the pub, meaning there had definitely been something at the dinner).
And so, the final stage of Gabriel's master plan started a few hours after he had come back from work at around nine PM. Michael, as per Gabriel's request, kept Lucifer back in the office a little longer than usual. He wasn't going to hold him long, so Gabe had to get to it immediately. He picked up his phone and searched for the number of Balthazar's pub.
"Hello?"
"Samandriel, hey. It's Gabriel. Need to talk to my little bro for a sec," he said.
"All right, hang on a minute." Gabriel heard the cry of, "Cas! Phone!" followed by the sound of his younger brother's voice. He heard a brief mention of his name before the receiver was handed over.
"Hello, Gabriel?" he heard the familiar, gravelly voice of his brother.
"Cassie baby, need to borrow your boyfriend," Gabe announced.
"No," came the deadpan reply.
"Relax, I'm not gonna do anything to him," the other assured. "I need his expertise on cars. You said he knows his way around them?"
"Gabriel, if this is the thing about Lucifer and Balthazar..."
"How do you know that?"
"I work here, and Anna can't keep a secret."
"Touché." After a pause, he asked, "You gonna give me Dean-o or not?"
"No, Gabriel. Leave them alone. Why must you meddle?" Castiel replied. "Let them sort it out for themselves."
"Oh, like you and Dean did? It took you two a year to finally realize what the rest of us had already known!"
"Rude," Cas returned. "But, true." There was a sigh at the other end before he inquired, "Is it something illegal?"
"I promise, Cassie, no harm will befall your beloved Deanie-poo," Gabriel mocked.
He could practically hear Cas scowling, before he finally called Dean's name. "The phone's for you," Castiel's voice was faint, and mumbled, which meant Dean was too busy sticking his tongue down his throat to listen. "It's Gabriel."
"Gabriel? What does he want?" the Winchester asked, followed by the tell-tale sound of lips smacking.
"I don't know," came Cas' reply, but it came out more like gibberish than anything else.
"Guys, hey, cut the make-out session, I'm on the clock here," Gabriel butted in.
The phone's cord slapped against the receiver, making Gabriel wince slightly. Dean's voice was suddenly clearer. "Hey, Gabriel, what's up?"
The Novak decided to get right to the point. "I need you to fuck up Lucifer's car."
"What? No fucking way! He'd kill me, then sue me!"
"He wouldn't even know it was you!" Gabriel reasoned. "Besides, I'm not asking for a huge damage. Just make sure his car can't start up."
"What the fuck is wrong with you, man?"
"A lot of things, probably," the other admitted. "You gonna help or what?"
There was a pause. "If he finds out, it's on you. What's the address?"
After that, it was smooth sailing. An hour later, as he awaited for the inevitable call that would come, Gabriel lazily flicked through the channels on his TV. He deserved a medal. Or a Nobel Prize. Really, he did. The amount of planning and scheming he had to go through, the calls he had to make... Hopefully after tonight, it would all have been worth it. He considered if he would ever tell Balthazar and Lucifer about all of this. It would be a great story to tell at their wedding. Could be part of his toast to the happy couple.
His musings were cut short by the familiar jingle of his ringtone. "Hello!" he answered cheerily, a grin playing on his face.
"Gabe, I need you to pick me up from the office. My car broke down," Lucifer's annoyed voice buzzed in his ear.
"Oh, I'm sorry! I can't come, bro! Super busy right now," he answered, lowering the volume of the TV. "Couldn't possibly be spared. What about Mike?"
"Not answering."
Of course, because Gabe specifically told him not to. "Call a cab."
"What? Why, when you can easily pick me up?"
"Like I said. Busy."
Lucifer groaned, and swore at him.
"Look, call the pub. I know Cassie won't be able to go, he's too busy with Dean, but..." he trailed of meaningfully. "There might be a certain Brit who could help you."
"You're a real ass, you know that?"
"One day, brother, you will understand."
"Gabriel-!"
Gabriel didn't hear from Lucifer the next day. He figured he was pissed at him (and sorta rightly so), but a part of him also hoped he was too busy spending the day in bed with Balthazar to pick up the phone. Gabe had called Michael to see if he's heard from him, but apparently the blond's been ignoring him too.
It wasn't until ten, when he was serving orders up front behind the counter that he finally got some answers. He had just served a woman some white chocolate chip cookies, and called for his next customer.
"Hey there, what would you like, man?" Gabriel greeted, then yelped when he looked up from the cash register.
Lucifer stood three feet away from him, hair tousled like he'd just woken up, but his eyes bright and warmly cheerful despite the early (well, early in his book) hours. He wore a wrinkled blue shirt under a fat, grey hoodie, its zipper hanging loosely just below the level of his clavicles. And a little higher up past his collarbone, on the stretch of his neck and the jut of his jaw, was not one, but two big, fat, irritated-red hickeys.
"You got laid!" Gabriel cried happily.
Lucifer winced at his tone, and, looking at the several choices of treats on the display, replied, "Not that it's any of your business."
As he watched him eye the banana and chocolate chip muffin, Gabriel sang cheerfully, "Who was it? Maybe tall, blond, British?"
Lucifer looked up at him from beneath his lashes. "None of your business," he replied softly, enunciating each word. "Two of the banana-chocolate-chip thingies."
Gabriel rolled his eyes, but popped two muffins into a brown paper bag for his brother. He handed Lucifer his change back and couldn't stop the grin from blooming on his face.
"Thanks," Lucifer mumbled and he took the bag.
"You coming down to the pub tonight?" Gabriel asked.
"Course. And you're buying me drinks for being an asshole about the car." Gabriel shrugged sheepishly, and was just about to turn to his next customer when his brother called, "Oh, and Gabe?"
"Yeah, Lu?"
Lucifer smirked as he spoke. "Don't ever be my wingman again."
Gabriel winked back and felt his grin grow to a face-splitting size. "No promises, bro."
