Title: Insomnia
Author: desolatestate
Rating: R
Summary: John hasn't been able to sleep lately, he feel as if he is being watched... WARNING: contains slash.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the character from Constantine.
AN: I havn't wrote anything in a very long time. Please don't be mean :(
John opened his eyes, knowing now wasn't the time to fall asleep. Exhaustion had taken over. He blinked, his eyes blurry from lack of sleep. What he wouldn't give for a cup of coffee. He was in the back of a cab, Chas was driving him back to his apartment after what had seemed like an everyday exorcism… but it wasn't and John knew it. He had felt the half breeds presence the second he had got there, of course the coward hadn't bothered to show himself, choosing to lurk in the shadows.
It had seemed like weeks since John had slept, in fact it probably had been weeks. Every time he lay down to go to sleep, he felt as if he were being watched. It didn't matter how many times he checked his apartment to find no one there, he knew exactly who was watching him but why?
Balthazar had always bothered John Constantine. From the second he laid eyes on the demon there was a feeling of unease different from any other he had ever felt. They had met when John was new to the game. He had only exorcised a few demons and still had no idea what he was doing. He could still remember exactly what had happened, what was said… what he wore.
The bar was crowded, the air thick with smoke. The place stunk of booze and hellfire, not exactly a place someone like John Constantine should be seen in. He made his way over to the mahogany bar, casually taking a seat. The bar tender spotted him right away, a sneer overcoming his features.
"Exorcist," He hissed under his breath.
"Actually, It's Constantine, John Constantine asshole." John replied with a smirk.
He was cocky, probably too cocky for such an inexperienced exorcist in a bar crawling with demons.
"Get out before I let them…" He gestured to the crowd, "… Throw you out"
John was about to answer when he was interrupted. A Tall, well built man with flawless olive skin took a seat beside him. He wore a blue pinstriped suit, his hair gelled back neatly, a half smile gracing his perfect features.
"Now, now. What kind of a welcome is that?" He asked the bartender smoothly.
"Uh…" The demon behind the bar looked stumped.
Of course the whole situation was confusing John, who was this guy and what was he doing?
"Sorry Balthazar."
"Well why don't you get Mr Constantine a drink. On the house." It was an order.
The bartender nodded timidly, pouring John a whiskey.
"How did…" John started.
"How did he know what drink you would prefer? Well Johnny, can I can you Johnny? Us demons have our ways."
John ignored the 'Johnny' comment, grinding his teeth impatiently.
"Mind readers." He muttered.
"That's the one." Balthazar chuckled lightly, the sound sickly sweet.
"What do you want?" John asked, idly searching for the pack of smokes in his pocket.
"What I want…" he paused, his hand snaking into John's pant pocket finding his cigarettes and holding them out towards the exorcist.
John jumped back off the bar stool, pulling out a vile of holy water. This caused the rest of the bar to stop what they were doing and turn towards Balthazar and himself. He was outnumbered… very much so.
"Oh please," Balthazar laughed loudly.
"If I wanted to hurt you I would have done so already, besides, what do you think that tiny vile is going to do to me?"
He had a point… of course he had a point. All John had wanted was some information and now he seemed to be in way over his head.
"Keep your god damn hands away from me, half breed."
"Oh Johnny," A grin.
"So much anger, used to strangers groping you?"
That hit a nerve and before John could stop himself he was on top of Balthazar, a swift right hook connecting with the demons cheek. It only took a couple of seconds before he was being pulled off, strong hands dragging him backwards.
"Boys! Stop manhandling my exorcist." Balthazar barked, freeing John from a particularly nasty looking demon and that was in human form.
"Now, Johnny, If you have any sense you'll leave with me now and avoid any further confrontation." He smirked, straightened his tie and dusted his suit before casually departing.
John, who wasn't stupid enough to stay in a room full of angry half breeds followed him half heartedly. Once outside, Balthazar was waiting for him. He held out the cigarettes he had previously extracted from Constantine's pocket.
"What do you want?" John repeated, snatching his much loved cigarettes from Balthazar.
"All I want, is to talk to you. Is that too much to ask?" He grinned.
Something about Balthazar unsettled John. Maybe it was because he was a demon, or maybe it was something else but that grin…
"Well?"
"Fine." John spat, lighting a cigarette hastily.
"But you better make it fucking quick, got it?" He took a long drag, revelling in the nicotine.
"Whatever you say Johnny."
"… and stop calling me Johnny."
Balthazar chuckled, motioning for John to get into a black limousine John had failed to notice.
John slid onto the comfortable leather seat, scooting over to the far side. He had no idea what he was doing but there was something about this Balthazar guy…
"Johnny, I'm glad you think so." Balthazar grinned, taking a seat beside John.
"Get the fuck out of my head half breed." John spat, turning towards the demon.
A soft laugh on Balthazar's part as he inched closer to the exorcist.
"John, Johnny, you don't believe that one word from you will keep me out of your pretty little head?" Balthazar sneered, a hand reaching over to touch John's ebony hair.
"Mmm?"
John jerked back, his skull connecting with the window behind him. There was a sickening crunch, his vision began to blur and before he could say a word the last thing he saw with Balthazar's face decay into the monster he really was.
"John? John? JOHN?!" Chas beeped the horn in an attempt to wake his boss up.
John awoke to find himself in the back of a cab.
"Chas?"
"We're here John." Chas turned, a look of concern on his face.
"You okay, John?"
"I'm fine." The exorcist replied firmly.
Chas nodded, departing the cab to get the exorcists bag from the trunk. It was heavy, full of practically all of John's weapons 'just in case', sometimes Chas thought the only reason John insisted on taking them all was just so Chas would have to carry them. He made his way through the bowling alley and up to Constantine's apartment, John trailing slowly behind. It didn't take a genius to know he wasn't okay. Chas knew he hadn't been sleeping, barely been eating. Drinking, smoking and exorcisms were the only things John partook in anymore.
"Thanks Chas." John gave his apprentice a weak smile, heading straight for the cupboard which kept his whiskey.
"John…" Chas began timidly, fiddling with his newsboy hat.
"Yeah?"
John hadn't even looked up. He was sitting at the large oak table, a glass of whiskey placed before him.
"I… I need to talk to you. I'm worried…"
John cut him off, raising a hand. He took a large gulp of the amber liquid filling his glass, absently lighting a cigarette.
"Chas. I don't pay you to worry. I pay you to do your job and keep the fuck out of my business." John wasn't angry, that at least was evident in his voice. However he did sound exhausted.
"But John…"
"NO!"
Okay, so now he was angry.
Chas sighed taking a deep breath. This needed to be said.
"You never eat or sleep. You never leave your apartment anymore, John! Everyone's worried about you!"
"CHAS! Stop. It doesn't concern you or anyone else." John snapped, pouring himself another glass of his favourite poison.
"John please." Chas pleaded, desperately.
John just shook his head, stood up and made his way into the bathroom. He waited until he heard Chas leave before he threw up. He knew all the boy wanted to do was help… but John wasn't so sure he could be helped, or even if he wanted to be.
He turned on the tap, letting the liquid ice glide over his hands, splashing some onto his pale face. He had lost so much weight and being already painfully thin this worried even him. It wasn't as if he hadn't tried eating, he had but every time he did he only brought it all back up again.
He raised his head, looking into the grubby mirror. He looked like death. Dark circles around sunken eyes, his once shiny hair was a mess, his skin was so pale he looked almost dead. He could be dead. That's how this felt but no. If he was dead he would be in hell and this definitely was not hell.
John closed his eyes, his hands braced against the sink, he was just so tired.
"Tired Johnny?" Warm breath caressed his neck.
"What kind of question is that?" He mumbled, too tired for any malice to lace his words.
A sickly sweet laugh, a hand slowly trailing down his chest.
"Mmm Johnny, I could have you right now. So perfect… I could turn you inside out and you wouldn't even fight back."
John moaned as the hand moved further south, rubbing over his groan.
"You want me. Oh Johnny, you need me." He sounded so smug. Pleased with himself like he had achieved a personal goal. Sick bastard probably had.
The hand on his crotch gave a firm squeeze.
"Balthazar." John gasped opening his eyes to find himself alone.
There was no one there, he stared into the mirror visualising the demons enticing brown eyes, his perfectly pressed suit complementing tanned skin but there was no one there.
He let out a breath. Disappointed.
"Asshole." He muttered, stumbling back into the kitchen.
He drained the glass, picking up the bottle and taking a long swig. He let his eyes slip closed one more, the smell of Balthazar's cologne instantly filling his nostrils.
"Why are you doing this?" He asked the empty room.
Of course there was no reply, another heavy sigh from John before he collapsed onto his bed, closing the cage behind him. All he needed was some sleep, just for a little while.
He lay for what felt like hours, every time he would start to drift off he would feel someone beside him, a hand on his thigh, a nip at his ear, heavy breathing in his ear. None of it was real though, how could it be? This was the first time he had felt Balthazar presence so vividly. The half breed had never made contact… it had been years since anything had happened between them.
John woke to find himself in a strange apartment. He was on a king size bed, blood red silken sheets beneath him. He had been stripped down to his shirt and boxers. His head pounding. Where was he? How had be got here?
"Took a nasty blow to your head John, remember? You passed out."
Balthazar appeared at the door, a martini in his hand, the other resting against the doorframe.
"You like it?" He asked gesturing around the room.
"Very expensive but the finish is exquisite, wouldn't you say?"
John ignored him, sitting up.
"Where the fuck are my clothes?"
"Oh Johnny, trust me you aren't going to be needing those," Another one of his laughs.
"What the fuck do you want?"
"Well I thought I would have made that perfectly clear by now. I want you John."
"Me?" John repeated, confused.
"Humans." Balthazar rolled his eyes.
"I want YOU. I want to fuck you. I want to shove my cock up that perfect arse of yours and I want you to scream my name in ecstasy as I make you cum over and over again all over these lovely bed sheets."
John stared at him for a couple of seconds, his face perfectly straight before he burst into laughter.
"You're fucking psychotic."
"No John, I believe that would be you."
Okay, the fun was over. John stopped laughing and stood up, grabbing Balthazar by the neck and throwing him into the wall.
Balthazar chuckled, his martini falling to the ground, it was all a game to him.
"Oh Johnny boy. If you wanted to be on top all you had to do was ask," a smirk now.
John was disgusted, putting more pressure on the half breeds neck.
"You sick son of a bitch!"
Balthazar moaned.
"D'you like it rough Johnny?"
"SHUT UP!" Constantine growled.
Another chuckle from the half breed.
"Oh John, stop your turning me on." he grinned.
John looked down to se the half breeds hard on. He pulled back quickly, releasing Balthazar.
"I'm leaving." He stated heading towards the door.
"Like that? No shoes, no pants?" He sounded amused.
Sadistic bastard.
"Where are they?" He demanded.
Another smirk from Balthazar. He was enjoying himself, John could tell.
Balthazar ignored the question instead he crossed the room, spreading out on the bed. Slowly he began to unbutton his shirt.
John had no idea what was going on, what the hell was this assholes problem?
"Look, I don't have time for your bullshit. Just tell me where my stuff is so I can leave." Somehow he doubted this would have an effect.
"Your right, it doesn't."
"I told you to stay the fuck out of my head." He was pissed.
"So do something about it Johnny, come and teach me a lesson before I grow tired and teach you a lesson."
"Fuck you."
This seemed to amuse the half breed greatly.
"No Johnny, fuck you."
Before John knew what had happened, Balthazar had thrown him onto the bed, pinning him down. He struggled but to no avail. The half breed was stronger than him.
"Now Johnny . This can go two ways, easy or hard." he said this then seemed to reconsider.
"Actually no, this can be hard, or harder."
Quickly he flipped John onto his stomach.
"Get the FUCK off me!" John said through gritted teeth.
This was defiantly not good. He struggled harder, but the half breed held him down. John could feel his skin bruising from the pressure Balthazar was using to hold him down. He felt a hand release him. This was his chance. He threw his head backward hopping to catch him off guard. This was the wrong move. The previous pain in his head exploded, his vision blacked. He was in too much pain, couldn't move.
He heard the sound on a zip being undone. Felt his boxers being taken off, his shirt being torn off.
Shit.
Constantine ignored the fact that a $200 shirt had just been ruined instead he concentrated on the part where he was about to be raped by a fucking half breed. He tried to struggle again. It was too late.
Balthazar thrust into him.
The pain was excruciating. There was no lube, no preparation, nothing. John's vision blurred again.
"Mmm Johnny, you're so fucking tight."
John grunted in pain as the half breed slammed into him again and again…
John woke to the sound of his phone ringing.
Damnit.
Had he actually managed to fall asleep?
"Constantine." He muttered groggily into the phone.
"John?"
"Yeah?" he replied.
"It's Chas."
"I already fucking guessed that kid. What do you want?" he said bitterly.
He had actually managed to fall asleep for the first time in God knows how long. This better be important.
There was silence at the end of the line.
"It's… It's about your dad" He said softly clearing his throat at the end of the sentence.
John was paying attention now.
"What about him?" he asked, suddenly wide awake.
"He… he was in an accident John." Chas replied sadly.
John barely had time to let this sink in when Chas spoke again.
"He's dead, John."
Silence.
Dead? His father was dead. He tried to identify what he was feeling right now. After all it had been him who had put John in that goddamned hospital. It had been him who had thrown John out when he was 18. It had been his fault his mother had died in a car crash 7 years ago.
"John?"
John hung up.
He felt nothing.
The rain poured. It hadn't stopped all morning. Funny how it always seemed to rain at funerals. John stood next to the grave. Barely listening to a word the priest said. There had been a good turn out. At least 50 people stood around him. He knew none of them.
He stared straight ahead, already soaked.
John wore what he always wore. He didn't know why he had come. This man meant nothing to him. He hadn't spoken to him since his mother's funeral. His death had barely effected him at all. If anything it had made him hate him even more. Memories of his past had come flooding back. Memories he had thought were long lost. Memories of his childhood, memories of his mother, memories of that hospital.
"Mr Constantine?" The priest, asked in a concerned voice.
"Would you like to say something?"
John hadn't said anything at the service. He wasn't going to say anything now, but he was angry.
"Yeah."
Everyone turned there attention to him.
"I haven't spoken to father since my mother died, I don't regret it. When I got the call to tell me he was dead, I felt nothing. This man, he didn't love me. I hope he fucking rots in hell."
There were gasps. The priest was lots for words. John didn't care. He turned and made his way back to the cab Chas was waiting for him in. The boy had wanted to come out for 'moral support' John had told him to stay where he was.
Chas looked up when John slipped into the cab.
"Is it done." He asked looking at the people still at the grave.
"It is for me." John replied bringing a cigarette to his lips.
Chas knew better to ask why.
"You wanna go home?"
John nodded. He needed to take a long, hot bath.
When he got home he was too tired to do anything, he went straight to the bathroom and began to fill the bath. He hadn't sleep since the day he had found out his father had died. He began to remove his clothes his hands shaking slightly. When he was fully naked he closed his eyes, sighing deeply. What was wrong with him?
"There's nothing wrong with you Johnny."
John's eyes snapped open. Standing directly in front of him was none other than Balthazar. He looked… amazing, he hadn't aged a day since John had first met him. He was wearing a grey pinstriped suit, a blood red shirt. John remembered the sheets.
"Thanks for the compliment John." He smirked.
"What?" John asked he eyes bleary from lack of sleep.
Balthazar chucked.
"Do you like the shirt? I thought you would appreciate the colour." He smirked.
John had grown to love that smirk. It made the already attractive half breed even more so.
"What are you doing here Balthazar?"
He wasn't very concerned by the fact he was completely naked.
As if Balthazar had just noticed this too he looked down to John's groin.
"Mmm how I've missed you Johnny."
The half breed had his mouth on his before he could react. His full lips soft against John's chapped and broken ones. John surrendered himself to the half breed, his lips parting obediently when Balthazar's tongue asked for entrance. He moaned softly into the kiss, oh how he missed this. Even though he would never admit it. He had never felt as close to anyone as he did to Balthazar. John forgot all about the soothing bath he had wished for. Warm hands roamed his body freely, one settled on his ass the other slowly sneaked down his chest. When Balthazar pulled back, Constantine was breathing heavily.
The half breed grinned
"What are you doing here?" John asked.
"I've come for that favour you owe me Johnny."