I don't own supernatural though I wish I did.
Balthazar's world
The shower is running when Balthazar slips into the apartment, and there's a pot of soup heating on the stove while the rice steams. Benny has a set of Balthazar's clothes laid out already, and he changes into them gratefully, glad to escape the smell of the sweat and pollution he spent so much time in on his run to the grocery store. He's just dumping the old v neck into a rag bin when Benny wanders down the hall, his hair still dripping and a towel draped around his shoulders.
With a sigh that's three parts aggravation and one part amusement, Balthazar abandons his task and crosses to bennies side, stealing the towel and tossing it over his head. "You're going to make yourself sick," he informs him, but thats a lie. because Benny is immortal, and nothing but magic or dead mans blood, could cause Him to even sniffle. Even so Balthazar feels like joking a bit. "and I won't be the one to care for you."
The vampire laughs, leaning in to kiss Balthazar quickly, and catches his wrists in gentle hands as he starts to rub the monsters hair dry. "Lies," he counters. "You'd make a great nursemaid, lovely." He smiles playing along.
"Not for you." The Angel raises a brow at him, trying not to let any more amusement show. "You whine terribly when you are lame, Ben. I would leave you to deans tender mercies without regret."
Another laugh, softer this time, and Benny steps forward, gently tipping Balthazar's chin up and sliding their mouths together in a slow, exploratory kiss. "Really?" he murmurs as he leans back.
"Do you doubt me?" Balthazar counters.
Solemnity slides over the monsters face, though thankfully there's nothing grim about it. He pulls back a little, hands settling on Balthazar's hips, and just…looks at him for a long moment. Then he smiles, small and warm, and pulls Balthazar towards him. "Never," he murmurs against his hair. "Never you, Angel. I would doubt everything else in the world before I'd doubt you.
There's a faint ache in Balthazar, somewhere he can't quite pinpoint. He rests his head against Benny's shoulder, carefully looping his arms around the man's back, and doesn't quite dare to close his eyes. Just for a moment he doesn't think of loss, of what could have been, of what might have happened if Benny had given in to grief, and let Dean slice off his head. What might have happened if Benny had never found and saved him, a half fallen angel on that day so long-ago. Just this once, there are no possibilities in Balthazar's head, no speculations, no thoughts. Just…warmth, soul-deep and skin-warm, Benny's large hand sliding up and down his spine in gentle strokes.
Balthazar is a creature of war and blood and hedonism, sharp pessimism like the edge of a blade. He has never been otherwise, never wanted to be otherwise, and Benny has never asked him to change those parts of himself. There have been moments, seconds where Benny simply looked at him and smiled, and Balthazar had looked back and seen that maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than that. Little pieces of something greater, fitting in against his jagged edges and smoothing them out, not quite making him whole but…something. Something good, which wouldn't exist without this vampire.
Fingers sweep his hair back from his face, smoothing it over his ears, and Balthazar glances up to find Benny smiling at him. His brown hair is still dripping a little, and his eyes are soft. The Angel holds his gaze, tilting his cheek into that careful touch, and finally says, "I'm not made of glass, Ben. You will never manage to hurt me.
Because he can see the worry in Benny, as clear as day—the ragged tear of everything is breaking, what if this does too? It itches at him like an open wound, that Benny should feel that way, because Balthazar will never leave. He's strong enough to stand and keep fighting no matter what, regardless of anything, and the feeling of being needed by this monster is enough to push him onward through whatever comes.
There's a pause, a hesitation, and then Benny chuckles softly. His touch firms, sliding back so he can twist his fingers in Balthazar's hair and tip his head back. "I suppose it's just the association," he says with some humor, and even more warmth. "Precious things are usually delicate, too. You're simply an exception to the rule, angel."
Never in his life has anyone called Balthazar precious. He can't even remember his siblings speaking the word, and from anyone other than Benny he thinks he'd hate it. But there's a kernel of something rooted in his chest, small and white-hot, and in its wake he can only shake his head bemusedly.
"You shouldn't be able to say such things with a straight face, fangs," he complains, though his heart isn't in it.
That earns a full-blown laugh, bright and happy, and Benny leans in to drop a kiss around Balthazar's eyes. "What can I say?" he asks, and though it isn't quite with his usual cheer he's still a thousand miles from the broken creature Balthazar met. "You inspire me, beautiful." A pause, and then he dips down with clear intent. Balthazar tips his head to meet him, and the kiss isn't quite as gentle as before, but still soft. A thank you, almost, touched with gratitude and fondness and friendship, bound by something Balthazar is very sure he could call love.
But he has no skill with such things, and his declaration after a night of feverish love making, is the closest he's ever come to speaking those words. He thinks Benny understands regardless.
Balthazar is not a gentle creature, not kind. He's a weapon brought to bear against a world with too many weapons in it already, and the only way he's survived is being stronger, quicker, smarter than all the rest. He cuts deeper, wounds mortally, and he's never learned how to be different.
Benny is a sheath. Benny doesn't dull him, but contains him, holds him back without changing who he is, gives him a touch of restrain that makes him…acceptable. Wanted.
Like this, with the vampire beside him, Balthazar can be both loving and wrath, and that's all he's ever wanted or needed to be.
From the front of the apartment comes the sound of the door clicking open, then footsteps in the hall. There's a pause, a little worried and wary, and then Dean calls, "Benny? Balthazar?"
Benny's breath catches in his throat, and he lifts his head, eyes widening as they snap to meet his angels. Asking if he may share the secret of there relationship, to someone Benny calls family. Balthazar just smiles a little in answer, stepping back, and tips his head in a silent order.
The smile that blooms across Benny's face is more brilliant than any Balthazar has seen before, shining with gratitude and hope and bone-deep relief, and he laughs, loud and free. With a sound that's almost a whoop he ducks forward to grab Balthazar around the waist and lifts him right off the ground, whirling him into a spin. Balthazar squawks in surprise, snatching at Benny's shoulders. The arms around his waist tighten, clutching him close, and Benny whispers a desperate, "Thank you," against his lips, half an instant before he calls back, "Just a second, brother!" and then tosses Balthazar right over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes before he heads down the hall with jaunty steps
"Benjamin!" Balthazar protests with a sharp hiss, banging an ineffectual fist against the man's back. "Ben, put me down or I will show you just what I know about human pressure points, you oversized oaf!
"Oh, come on, beautiful," Benny laughs, shifting an arm around the backs of Balthazar's knees so he can't kick the idiot in the gut. "What's the harm in it? Indulge me." He ducks to get through the kitchen doorway, then straightens again and lets Balthazar slide to the ground, though he doesn't move his hands from the other man's waist.
Dean is round the corner, eyebrow raised at the angel and vampires antics.
"You have no concept of dignity," the angel hisses, glaring at Benny, though he doesn't try to step away, either. "And if I 'indulge you' even for a second, fangs, it will go straight to your head."
"Well, we can't have that," Benny agrees, smiling, and leans in to kiss Balthazar swiftly.
Balthazar's notices the way Benny's eyes track deans face, looking and fearing disapproval or disgust.
Instead, Dean makes a sound that is somewhere between deeply relieved ( and maybe there's a muttered 'finally' under his breath.) and a snigger, and then asks pointedly, "Does this mean I should start calling Balth, Mr. lafitte?"
Benny laughs, Balthazar groans and Dean snorts
And all is right in Balthazar's world.