So...I'm really tired. I just saw the first seven parts of Band of Brothers but had to stop after Richard Speight, Jr.'s character got hosed. Nope, I will not be finishing anytime soon. Jesus, does that man die in everything?! The Pepsi commercials don't count...
If you haven't voted in the poll on my page, go do it!
Everything belongs to Kripke. This chapter is dedicated to Mems, who gripped me tight and raised me from Perdition (and also pre-read the first 600 words or so). I added some extra stuff, though, Mems, so it's worth a re-read!
Lu had just finished strapping in his bass in the cab of Raphael's truck when he sensed rather than heard someone approaching from behind him. A split second before he turned around, he heard that seductively familiar voice hiss in his ear, "Hello, Lucifer."
He could feel the heat radiating from Balthazar's body and part of him just wanted to lean back into him. He managed to control that desire and turned to face him. "Don't call me 'Lucifer.' It's just 'Lu.'"
"Of course," Balthazar murmured. "My apologies." He casually put his hand against the side of the truck, a few inches away from the strawberry blonde, leaning in closer to Lu in the process. Lu felt his heart speed up a bit but, other than that, gave no indication that he noticed. He had to be impressed with Balthazar's technique, though. He was shorter than Lu by a good two inches but still managed to seem taller. Maybe it was because he was leaning as far back against the truck as possible with his hands behind his back, not quite trusting himself not to run his fingers through Balthazar's hair. Or punch him in the face. Both options seemed appealing.
Balthazar continued, "So your girlfriend… Eve, was it? She broke up with you?"
Lu shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Yeah. It's not a big deal, though. She was a bitch, anyway." Not that it didn't sting like a motherfucker, the fact that she'd been screwing Michael, but he'd get over that pretty easily. He made to sidle away from the other blonde, but Balthazar caught his arm.
He wasn't even grabbing him, just resting his hand against his forearm, but it was enough to freeze the bassist. "Well, then. I reckon it was all for the best in that case, yeah?" His bright blue eyes seemed to be boring holes right through him. He was so close that he could see the twin holes punched through Balthazar's lower lip and he wondered briefly why he didn't have his piercings in. For a second, Lu's breathing caught in his chest, but he maintained eye contact, refusing to let the other man fluster him.
"Yeah. Yeah, it—" Lu quickly cleared his throat. Fuck! He was born and raised in Mississippi for the first seven years of his life until his mother took him and moved to California. He spent the next three years fighting to lose his Southern accent and he did a good job of getting rid of it, but it still came back out when he was drunk or horny. The twang had made an appearance and he definitely wasn't drunk. "Yeah, it was," he said, very carefully pronouncing each word to make absolutely sure he didn't slip into his accent again. Hell, Balthazar probably hadn't even noticed it, but he did.
Pretending he didn't notice the way his heart started racing the moment the singer touched him, Lu hit the lock button on Raphael's key ring and again started to head back inside. He'd rather be hovering next to Raphael, embarrassed at his lame flirting, than out here tempting himself like this. He wasn't sure how much longer he could stand out here, inches away from Balthazar and those piercing eyes and those lips and—
He realized a moment too late that he hadn't moved and was now actually staring because Balthazar's lips turned up in a smirk. The slightly-shorter blonde slid his hand from Lu's forearm all the way up to the back of his neck, leaving a trail of goose bumps in his wake. For a second, their eyes locked and Lu felt his resistance crumbling. Then those deliciously soft-looking lips of his were pressed against the bassist's, and he finally dragged his fingers through the singer's hair. That's all it was, just a gentle meeting of lips that was easily the sweetest first kiss of Lu's life. Unconsciously, he moaned softly and twisted his fingers, pulling Balthazar's hair, and then suddenly the kiss deepened. The singer's teeth scraped against Lu's lips and the taller man felt himself pressing closer to him, spreading his lips.
Balthazar's hand left the back of his neck to lean against the truck as his tongue licked across Lu's lower lip. The shorter man easily pushed his leg between Lu's and he couldn't help rutting against him like a horny teenager. Oh, my God. Lu tightened his grip on Balthazar's hair, his thoughts racing so fast that his brain was about to short-circuit. He moaned again, louder now, slowly realizing that Balthazar's hands weren't on him anymore. Touch me, dammit! This was crazy. They'd only been kissing for a minute or two but already he was ready to unlock Raphael's truck and drag Balthazar into the backseat. He wanted to feel Balthazar's hands all over him and their bare skin pressed together and his tongue against his.
But just as abruptly as it started, Balthazar pulled away, easily disentangling himself from Lu. Without a backwards glance, the singer headed right back inside, leaving Lu slumped against the truck. The strawberry blonde watched him leave, wanting—needing—to say something, to call him back, but he couldn't speak. He couldn't even find the words. It wasn't until the door slammed behind him that Lu finally blinked and let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"Fuck," he muttered, tugging on his hair for a moment. What the Hell was wrong with him? It wasn't even ten minutes ago that he told himself he was going to keep it in his pants for the sake of his band. Then what did he do? He went ahead and made out with his singer. That was kind of the opposite of what he vowed to do.
It wasn't my fault, though! After all, he had been trying to avoid that sort of situation. Balthazar had approached him, flirted with him, instigated the kiss. He started it! So what if he'd been the one moaning like a whore, grabbing at him like his life depended on it? None of that would have happened if the blonde had just left him the fuck alone.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, he mustered up all his courage and willpower. Damned if that hadn't been one of the best kisses of his life, but he wasn't going to even contemplate that. He jimmied the handle of Raphael's truck one last time to be absolutely sure he'd locked it. Then he slid a casual look into place and headed back inside.
"Hey, Lu! Are you okay?" Raphael asked the moment he caught sight of him.
"Y-yeah, I'm fine. Why?"
"You look a little flushed, that's all."
"Oh." He smiled nervously, feeling extremely off his game. "Yeah, it's just hot out there, that's all."
"Good. We were about to leave and head out to Balthazar's place, so—"
"Wait, what?" he asked, more sharply than he intended.
"Well, he just had this idea that it might be a good way for us to get to know each other, you know? Bonding experience."
Bonding? What fresh Hell is this?
"Like a band of brothers!" Gabriel joked, appearing out of nowhere and leaping onto Lu's back.
Brothers who apparently fuck each other if they're drunk enough. "If you're my brothers, I have to be adopted." He shoved Gabriel off and the shorter man just laughed.
Raphael went on. "Anyway, he just suggested this thing, so we're all heading out. You put your shit in my truck, right?"
"Don't I get a say in this?"
"Dude, I thought you'd be on board with it. I mean, we're all trying to get to know him so we don't potentially have to hit the studio with a complete stranger. It's a good idea, you have to admit."
It was a good idea. That didn't mean Lu had to like it. "Was it his idea?"
"Yeah, but so? What's the problem?"
Lu stared at the ceiling for a few moments, brain spinning. Come on, think of something! Get out of it! He finally settled on, "I have work tomorrow."
"I know. At three. I'll be sure you make it to work on time, buddy. We're not gonna cut it close or anything."
Fuck! Raphael knew his schedule way too well. "I just—"
"Hey," Castiel said, approaching with his guitar slung over his back. "Are we ready to leave? Balthazar says he's ready to go."
Well, since they'll be around too, maybe he'll behave. As one, they all looked toward where the blonde was standing, lighting a cigarette. He looked at them and called over, "You lot set? It's getting late." He caught Lu's eye and smirked. "I'll be in the car park when you're ready." Alright, maybe not. Still smirking, Balthazar exited smoothly.
"Hey, let's go," Raphael said, nudging Lu. "I think Cas and Gabe are hanging back to say goodnight to Dean and Sam. And you know how long that can take," he added in an undertone with a quick glance back at the guitarists. Fortunately, neither of them were paying attention—both were suddenly more interested in their respective boyfriends than in anything Raphael had to say.
Fortunately, Castiel and Gabriel only took a few minutes to say goodbye to the Sinchesters. Still, Lu had hopped into Raphael's truck already and closed his eyes, feigning (well, not really feigning) exhaustion to avoid even looking at Balthazar. When Raphael finally slid into the driver's seat, Lu opened one eye. "So he's leading and we're following, right?"
"Right," Raphael said. He made short work of checking his mirrors and started up the truck. He gave Lu a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, man. I got you covered."
"Huh?" Had Raphael somehow figured out what was going on?
"I'll get you to work on time. You don't have anything to worry about."
"Oh. Yeah, thanks." He didn't know whether to be relieved or annoyed but supposed that it was probably a good thing that his bandmates were oblivious. That fact would surely make it an interesting evening, though.
It did end up being almost pleasant, the five of them on the floor of Balthazar's living room, passing around a bottle of Svedka and swapping stories. Raphael went first, telling a story that Lu already knew from back in high school when they nearly got caught smoking weed in the bathroom during fourth hour. That led to a similar story of Gabriel's, except he actually did get caught. He didn't get in trouble, though—he was so high that he actually offered the teacher a hit and the teacher accepted, agreeing to keep the incident a secret. Castiel recounted a tale none of them had heard before from back in his three-year stint in the Army. Apparently, he and a few of his buddies had gotten so drunk that they hijacked the commanding officer's golf cart and went joyriding around the base. Somehow, they never got caught.
"Dude, why don't you ever tell us shit like this?" Gabriel asked, nearly rolling with laughter. "You always have the best fucking stories!"
Castiel just chuckled and shrugged. He didn't talk a lot about his Army days, and Lu had a feeling it was why he was so quiet.
When the bottle got to Lu, he had to think long and hard about what story he wanted to tell. Finally, he settled on the story of his first tattoo. He'd found it in a book in his junior year of high school. It was a design called a Devil's Trap. He liked the sound of it and the description before he even saw the design, and once he saw that, he knew he wanted it. He had to wait another year to get it, until he turned eighteen, and the day after he did, he went right to the tattoo studio and got the Devil's Trap tattooed over his heart. "I mean, my name is Lucifer, after all. Besides, I like to think it keeps the Devil inside me. Keeps him from getting out."
Balthazar looked fairly impressed. "Cheers," he joked, tipping the bottle of vodka back and taking a long swig. Lu tried not to stare at Balthazar's throat as he swallowed. He wondered why he was the only one of his bandmates affected by this guy. That couldn't be right. Then again, Castiel and Gabriel were both spoken for and he was pretty sure Raphael didn't have any latent homosexual tendencies, so maybe it was just him. Still, it wasn't fair.
The singer decided to regale them with the story of one of his hookups, a girl back in England named Bela Talbot. "Right slag, that one," he explained. He went on to tell them about how they met in a club and made it back to her place. They'd just finished when the front door opened and Bela's boyfriend walked, making a racket and, in general, waking him up. Balthazar apparently only had just enough time to gather up his clothes and shimmy out the window before the boyfriend caught him—he didn't even have time to put his pants on. Instead, he just went tearing down the street completely naked and prayed no cops happened to be rolling by.
No matter how Lu felt about Balthazar, it was really hard not to laugh at that mental image, and he and his bandmates were all dissolved into laughter by the story's end. He felt himself relaxing as the bottle made its way to him again and he took another drink. Still giggling, he said, "Hang on—I gotta piss. I'll be right back." That Southern accent was starting to color his words again, but since it was from alcohol, he cared a lot less than he did earlier. Instead he stumbled all the way down the hall to the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.
He came out a few minutes later, starting to head back to the living room, but something caught his eye. There was a door open now that he was absolutely sure hadn't been ajar when he'd gone into the bathroom. There was even light coming from the room. His curiosity piqued, he peered inside.
It was obviously Balthazar's bedroom. First of all, there was a bed in it. Second of all, Balthazar was standing in the middle of the room. His back was to the door and he was sweeping his shirt over his head. Lu froze, unable to tear his eyes away. Holy fuck. His back—smooth and slim with that tantalizing line down his spine—was covered with tattoos. He was too drunk to tell what they depicted, but he just couldn't stop staring. Balthazar tugged a wifebeater shirt over his frame and Lu unconsciously licked his lips.
As if that somehow attracted his attention, Balthazar suddenly turned and locked eyes with him. Oh, shit! He looked pissed off. Crossing the room in three quick strides, he grabbed Lu by the collar and pulled him into the room. He easily shoved Lu against the wall and captured his mouth.
It was—there was no other word for it—an assault. Teeth, tongue, lips crashed together in a battle for dominance that Lu was far too drunk to win. He heard himself whining softly, pulling on Balthazar's hair and rutting against him as he did so. Oh, Jesus! Balthazar had him completely flush against the wall, pinned in place with his own body, but he was at least touching him now. It was only fanning the flames, but Balthazar's hands were running up and down his sides, dragging up his shirt a bit, and he could feel the smallest bit of the singer's stomach against his. He moaned once, sliding a hand into Balthazar's shirt, and the shorter blonde leaned back just enough to breathe, "You want me to shag you right here? Just like this, with the rest of them right out there? You want that?"
"Yeah," Lu panted, nodding furiously. "Yeah, I want you to fuck me."
Balthazar gave him a half-smirk. "I would, love, but I don't quite trust you to keep your voice down. Not with the way you're going on, anyway." He brushed his lips against Lu's again and then finally released him. "And I rather like you guys. You're a good group of blokes." He winked at Lu, pulled the bottom hem of his shirt down, and headed out the door.
Shit. So much for behaving himself. I have to keep trying. Even drunk, he knew he was cruising for disaster. Next time. Next time, I'm not giving in. I won't let myself give in. Taking a few more calming breaths, he went back out and rejoined his bandmates.
I watched all of season 1 of Misfits today, which was great because it gave me a lot of British slang to use for Balthazar. I especially giggled over him calling Bela a "right slag." British people have the best slang terms.