THE PENTHOUSE - EVENING
Late in the day at old Heathcliff Studios. Parties all over the highrise where in full swing. It seemed like there was only one peaceful place in the building, and that was Crowley's room. The TV was on mute and Nina Simone's "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood" played quietly on the hifi. There were empty liquor bottles scattered around the armchair, and Crowley and Balthazar had resorted to drinking vermouth and cola. Crowley was still on Balthazar's lap and probably would've bitten anyone who tried to move him. He was near the end of a drunken rant:
"...I've even started playing video games," Crowley said, "that's how bored I am. And I end up doing the same thing in them that I do out here: I'm just grinding."
Balthazar snickered. "Grinding?" he asked. "What kind of video games are you playing?"
"It means when you do the same thing over and over," Crowley explained, "for money or experience. Slaying wild boars in the forest or some wank like that, to level up. You do it and you do it, and then one day, you look up and wonder where your life went. I'm the rat in the Skinner box pulling the lever. Killing pigs and waiting for the coins to drop."
"Silly prince of darkness," Balthazar said, but then started snickering again - he was just drunk enough to think 'prince of darkness' was funny. "You're waiting for the best part, but waiting is the best part."
Crowley frowned. "Are you talking about tantric pig-slaying? Because it's overrated."
"What I'm talking about is this: nothing in life feels as amazing as knowing something good is about to happen. The popcorn never tastes as good as it smells. Disneyland isn't half as fun as spotting the Matterhorn from the highway. It's the most incredible feeling in the universe. The trick is, dragging it out."
Crowley listened a moment, then started laughing his ass off.
"What's funny?" Balthazar asked.
"Basically?" Crowley asked. "You just said that becoming the co-ruler of an unequivocal global empire isn't going to feel as good as sitting here with me, right now, skunk as a drunk and talking about nothing."
"...Did I really say that?" Balthazar asked. "I don't think I said that."
"No, you did," Crowley said, giving Balthazar a joking hug, "just a bit. But no worries, Taz, I heart you, too. In fact..." Crowley ran his hand over Balthazar's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. He whispered in his ear, "I'm in the mood to play agame. We could play 'Crossroads'."
Balthazar pried Crowley's hand off. "You're drunk."
"That's how you play," Crowley said. He kept at it, nuzzling Balthazar, nibbling his ear. "I'll give you a head start."
Balthazar nudged Crowley off him, not unkindly. "I'm not doing anything with you when you're drunk that you wouldn't do sober."
Crowley sighed with frustration. But he was too sloshed to be all that disappointed. "Why do you have to be such a prude when you're hammered?"
"Why can't you be more of a slut when you're sober?" Balthazar asked. His resolve was waning. "I will take a gropey snuggle, though. To fortify myself against family issues."
Crowley made a face, disgusted. "What is it with you and snuggling?" he asked. "I don't snuggle, that counts as something I wouldn't do sober. You're a bloody sky warrior, and I'm the Devil, we're not the cuddly sort. Bad for the image."
"How are we not cuddly?" Balthazar asked, taking both their drinks and setting them on the cart. "We cuddle people all the time. We cuddle fans, sponsors - we cuddled Tom Bergeron in that christmas special."
The horrifying realization sank in for Crowley. "Oh, bollocks. We are cuddly... When did this happen?"
"Photoshoots," Balthazar said, his voice full of regret. "Everyone sells out for a wind machine." He gathered Crowley up in his arms and stood up, very wobbly. He did his best to carry Crowley to his bed.
"You know," Crowley said, "for someone who doesn't want the game, you certainly know how to play."
"Better you pass out in bed than on the floor," Balthazar said.
When Balthazar got to the bed, he collapsed onto it, taking Crowley with him. For a minute, they laid beside each other, waiting out the dizziness. Balthazar's face was smooshed against the duvet.
"Just need the room to stop spinning," Balthazar said, "then I'll be sip sape. Shape tape... Grape Ape."
"What you get for drinking all day," Crowley said, chuckling under his breath. "That's neat how you do that."
"I know," Balthazar said, "I've got a liver the size of a coconut."
Crowley laughed. "Not that," he said. "You take care of me. Nobody else does that. Why do you do that?"
"I dunno," Balthazar said, really thinking about it. But it wasn't easy, his head was swimming. "I think... well, it makes me feel... you know, good. Strong."
"You are strong," Crowley told him. Alright, it was a little cajoling.
Balthazar shook his head sadly, "No, I play strong. You do all the work, you take all the hits. You fix everything. And I just... spend money and have parties... Marry Kardashians. I should've been with you today. I could've protected you. Instead of being holed up here, necking with security."
"The twins are very neckable," Crowley said. "You skipped one meeting-."
"And you could've been killed," Balthazar said, cutting Crowley off. "Don't try to put this into context, you'll only make my point for me."
Crowley giggled at the seriousness. "Aww, you angels take things so hard," he said. "We got the sniper, right? Maybe we'll even find the Colt. Hey. I'm not your job, Taz. I can take care of myself."
"That's not the point," Balthazar said, still feeling sorry for himself. Wallowing majestically. "I still should've been there. You've always been the strong one."
"Not always." Crowley put his hand on Balthazar's cheek clumsily.
They looked at each other for a moment, very intimate, their faces inches apart.
"If I you could have one wish," Crowley whispered, "what would it be?"
And that was it, Balthazar's resolve was gone. He pulled Crowley into his arms. Into a slow, tender kiss, full of longing. Crowley responded, deeply, passionately. And when it ended, they lingered close, refusing to break apart.
"You skipped a step," Crowley said breathlessly.
"I think it shows initiative," Balthazar said.
"Cheater."