Apologies in advance for the terribleness of this chapter. You'd think it would be good, but I'm not exactly pleased with it. I'll probably refine it later, but here it is for you now.
Many thanks to Keefer, kb18142, egyptian1995, IslanderBib, Sexy. Lil. Emo, r2metoo, and Chloe JP for your reviews to the last chapter!
Crowley's assumption that they would go into the studio the next week ended up being correct. It rendered the whole "finding a new job" thing essentially pointless in Lu's case, but Joshua understood the situation through Castiel. He started scheduling Castiel and Lu on just the weekends (at their request), and Balthazar, Raphael, and Gabriel each had to go to their respective employers and let them know the same thing. Unsurprisingly, Gabriel was a little reluctant to cut his hours. He really did like his job at the Ghirardelli store.
After work on Thursday, Ray brought him to a used car lot near the "Mile of Cars" so he could look for his own vehicle. He was practically giddy to finally be able to get a car and, even though his bike had gotten stolen, he was about to get alternate transportation now.
They prowled through the rows of cars for nearly a half an hour. Lu couldn't find a car that really spoke to him, and that was one thing he wanted for certain. The Aveo that Eve had totaled had been just some car to him, and he secretly thought that he had jinxed himself by buying a car he didn't actually like. He was determined not to make the same mistake this time and wanted to be sure he got a good car this time.
A glint of sunlight off chrome caught his eye, and he turned his head to see a shiny black frame and polished front bumper. Already interested, he ducked past the car in front of him to get a better look.
A grin crossed his face. "Hey, Ray?" he called.
"What?" Raphael picked his way over to where Lu was standing and looked, too. "Oh, my God."
"It's perfect."
"You're fucking with me."
"Hell, no, I'm not."
"That wasn't a question. That was a statement. You are fucking with me."
"It's got amazing storage space."
"Yeah, where dead people have been!"
"It's my car, not yours."
"It's not a car, it's a hearse!"
"I have to have it."
"Oh, my God." Raphael rubbed his forehead. "You are insane."
"Look, it's only nine thousand dollars. Can you think of one good reason not to get it that does not involve the words dead, corpse, or graveyard?"
His best friend exhaled loudly. "It's—"
"Or creepy."
Raphael was silent.
"I bet we could fit a few people back there if we needed an emergency place to crash, too," Lu added with a grin.
The drummer sighed. "You don't even know how well it runs."
"Only one way to find out."
After a look under the hood, a test drive, and a suddenly-feigned disinterest in the hearse, Lu was able to negotiate the price down to seventy-five hundred dollars. He drove away practically giggling.
He needed to take a good long look at his life if he got excited about buying a hearse.
The salesman had assured him that it was a secondhand hearse, and the fifty-thousand miles and peeled-off decals (Sapp & Sons Funeral Home) attested to that as well. He knew he would have been a bit disappointed to discover his hearse hadn't actually ferried around dead people, but it wouldn't have changed his mind.
When Balthazar saw it (Lu had just told him he'd picked a car—he hadn't said what kind), his eyebrows were in danger of disappearing into his hairline. "Good Lord. I didn't…" He stared at the hearse for a full five seconds before doubling over with laughter. "I don't even know why I'm surprised," he finally managed to wheeze out.
"It's got a lot of storage room in the back," Lu started innocently, but Balthazar's laughter redoubled at the comment. "And it seats three," he added, indicating the secret hidden seat in the back.
Balthazar wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "It looks great," he said finally. "Excellent choice. What are you naming it?"
"Naming? Who said anything about naming it? You didn't name your Mustang, did you?"
"I did. She's Lindsey."
"Lindsey?"
The singer smirked. "As in Lohan."
"Why—"
"The Mustang is red, Lohan's a redhead, and my favorite drink is a Red-Headed Slut." He shrugged. "Made sense to me."
Lu rolled his eyes. "I shudder to think of that logic applied to my baby."
"Nah, I was thinking of something like Bones."
He looked back at the hearse. Reluctant as he was to admit it, he actually liked that name. "Not bad," he said finally.
"I know." Balthazar dug his own car keys out of his pocket and headed for his own car. "Going to work. I'll see you later."
"Yeah. Bye."
Balthazar ended up being out of the house the rest of Thursday, most of Friday, and nearly the whole weekend to make up for the work he was about to miss. Lu didn't think it mattered that much since they'd gotten a pretty hefty signing bonus, but an annoying little voice at the back of his head told him that maybe Balthazar was just avoiding him. He hoped it wasn't the case, but since they didn't have a show that weekend, he didn't count on seeing the singer much. Still, he found himself making enough dinner for the two of them and putting the leftovers in the fridge. On Friday night, he woke up to hear the sound of the microwave going and couldn't help smiling to himself before falling back asleep.
By Monday, he still hadn't worked up the nerve to talk about anything of value with him (nor had Balthazar been around enough to allow that conversation to occur) and he started thinking that maybe it was over without either of them having to discuss it. Maybe Balthazar could just sense that letting go was the smart thing to do and was already working on it. He certainly hoped so.
When they went back to Leviathan on Monday (fortunately in jeans, now that they didn't have as many people to impress), they all threw themselves into the task of banging out their first few songs, but no one worked harder than Lu. Balthazar could sense that this opportunity meant a lot to all of them, but the bassist in particular seemed determined to make everything perfect. He stayed late on Monday and came in early on Tuesday, and he seemed almost trancelike while they worked. He didn't seem to hear Crowley's announcement about the studio party on Friday night that they were obligated to attend. He kept playing with the mix and messing with the playbacks. He never had any criticism for anyone's playing (when they did happen to fuck up, he just had them do it again, with an eerie sort of calm that Balthazar found a bit unnerving) but he adjusted the levels until Castiel grabbed him by the back of the shirt and told him to just go outside for a few minutes.
It was the same story on Tuesday night. Everyone but Lu left around five, Balthazar went home and fell asleep around eight, and when he woke up at seven the next morning, Lu had already headed back to the studio.
And Wednesday night.
On Thursday night, Balthazar finally got sick of it and decided to stay awake until Lu got home. He wasn't sure when the strawberry blonde was sleeping, but he knew it wasn't much because he looked more and more tired every day, and cans of Monster kept appearing in the trash in the studio. Balthazar turned on the TV and waited until almost midnight before it finally sank in.
Lu hadn't been coming home. He'd spent every night at the studio this week.
Balthazar didn't know how he missed it. He'd obviously been wearing the same clothes every day and, when he got in the next morning, he looked closely and realized that Lu clearly hadn't shaved in several days.
He clenched his jaw. Well, this was unacceptable. "Luce," he hissed, moving closer to the bassist than was necessary.
"Huh?"
"You haven't been home in five days."
Lu blinked. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about it being bloody Friday and you haven't been home since Monday."
"You're crazy. It's like… Tuesday at the latest." Lu turned his head to look at Raphael, who'd stopped tapping his drumsticks against the table to a beat only he could hear. "Ray, what's today?"
Raphael blinked. "Friday."
"It can't be."
Balthazar finally got a good look at Lu's eyes. They were bloodshot and he just looked exhausted. "Come on," he muttered, grabbing Lu by the arm and bringing him to his feet. To the rest of the band—and Crowley, who had just entered the room—he said, "I'm bringing this arse home. He hasn't left here since Monday."
"Hardcore," Gabriel joked.
"I don't need you to fucking drive me home," Lu snapped suddenly with a venom that surprised them all.
"Luce. When was the last time you slept?" he asked softly, well-aware that all eyes were on them.
The strawberry blonde looked away. "I don't know," he admitted.
"That's what I thought. It's a miracle you're conscious right now. You can't drive right now."
Lu blinked, still not looking back at Balthazar. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."
"Come on."
Crowley looked furious at this development. "What is wrong with you, Pellegrino? You determined to be an idiot or something? Go sleep! Moron!"
Balthazar rolled his eyes and led Lu out of the room, keeping one hand on the small of his back to guide him. He was almost afraid to break contact with him until they'd passed Bones (still with the temporary license plates; the real ones, registered as BADWOLF, hadn't arrived yet) and stopped in front of the Mustang, although Lu didn't seem to be object to being touched. Balthazar unlocked the car and Lu dropped into the front seat before the singer went around to the driver's side and got in. "Try to sleep on the way home."
Lu scoffed and ran his hand over his face. "I'm fuckin' wired. I don't think I can sleep. Who needs sleep, anyway?"
Balthazar sighed and, before he could stop himself, brushed his fingers through Lu's hair. "You do."
As he drove, he kept waiting for Lu's head to tilt back and snoring to fill the car, but the bassist's eyes stayed open. It seemed like he was right—he couldn't sleep.
When they got home, Balthazar practically shoved him into the shower with the idea in mind that the hot water would lull him to sleep, but when Lu emerged twenty minutes later, he didn't look even remotely closer to sleep. "Come on," Balthazar muttered. He marched Lu to his bedroom and forced him under the covers.
For his part, Lu did actually close his eyes and try to fall asleep, but Balthazar could tell he wasn't having it. His mind was exhausted, but his body was running on fumes and energy drinks, and it seemed the bassist had been right: he was simply unable to sleep. Part of him knew he'd just been looking for an excuse, but he heaved a dramatic sigh and crawled into bed next to Lu, pulling him close until they were spooning.
He felt Lu let out a small sigh and press against him. For nearly ten minutes, everything was quiet and Balthazar finally thought, At least he's finally getting some sleep. He shifted slightly, his arms still firmly around Lu's waist, and buried his nose in the strawberry blonde's still-drying hair. He swallowed hard, willing away the tightness in his chest, and prayed he could fall asleep soon, too.
And then Lu murmured, "Still can't sleep. Trying, but I can't."
"Luce." The word was barely a whisper, but it raised goose bumps on the back of Lu's neck.
"I like it when you call me that," he confessed softly.
Balthazar swallowed hard. "Really? You never told me that before."
"I know." Lu started running his fingers over Balthazar's arms, lightly tracing the tattoos on his skin. "Maybe I should have, though."
He closed his eyes tightly. It was pure torture, being this close to Lu when all he wanted to do was get them both naked and in the midst of a filthy sexual act. He needs sleep, he told himself, trying to distract himself, but then Lu snuggled back into him, grinding his ass against Balthazar, and the singer let out a faint groan. He ran his lips over the back of Lu's neck before he could stop himself and Lu's grip on his arm tightened, nails digging into his skin.
"Balthazar," he breathed, the sound almost a plea, and the blonde couldn't hold himself back anymore. He turned him, shifting his own weight to straddle the bassist's hips before leaning down to press a bruising kiss to his lips. Lu opened his mouth into the kiss immediately, sliding his hands down Balthazar's sides until he settled them on his hips, cupping his ass.
"I guess we should come up with a way to tire you out," Balthazar breathed, running his fingers over Lu's chest.
"I'm sure you'll think of something," Lu deadpanned. The blonde rocked his hips, rutting against Lu, and the bassist moaned softly. "I think you're onto something."
Balthazar pulled back for a moment, just long enough to sweep his shirt over his head and to the side before he kissed Lu again, biting lightly at his lips. They fumbled to push down each other's jeans and boxers, and the singer trailed his lips and teeth down Lu's neck, over his chest, leaving bruises and scrapes. The younger man breathed, "Harder," and tried to sit up to get better contact, but Balthazar put his hand on his chest and pushed him back onto the bed.
"Just lay back. I have this," he whispered. He gently squeezed Lu's sides with his knees and reached into the bedside drawer.
"Oh, my God," Lu whimpered barely a minute later. His eyes had followed Balthazar's movements as he withdrew the lube and slicked his fingers. But then, taking him completely by surprise, the singer reached behind him and started working himself open, his eyes sliding shut. "Fuck, that's hot."
Balthazar gritted his teeth, shifting to try to improve the awkward angle as he slid a second finger inside himself. Lu bit his lip, his eyes never leaving the singer as he reached for the older man's dick to give a few light, teasing strokes.
Finally, though, the singer couldn't wait any longer. He groped for the lubricant again, coating Lu's stiff cock and slowly, mercilessly lowering himself onto him.
Lu's grip on Balthazar's hips tightened immediately and the blonde gasped, half in pain and half in pleasure. He gritted his teeth—fuck, what had he been thinking? He hadn't been ready but now Lu was so deliciously hard inside him and Jesus, it should not have felt this good—and raised himself, very nearly letting Lu's cock slide all the way out. Then he dropped back down, faster this time, shuddering as Lu firmly grazed against his prostate. He moaned loudly, Lu's own desperate gasp echoing in his ears, and reached out to the wall for support as he repeated the action.
As he set up an agonizing rhythm, he tried to figure out why this felt so much better, so different than when they'd fucked on that Saturday morning nearly two weeks before. Maybe it was because the angle was different—and oh, God, he loved riding Lu like this, loved being in full control even though he was the one being penetrated (and fuck, he loved that, too—he hadn't expected the intensity of his orgasm with Lu buried inside him but it was amazing)—or maybe it was because Lu was gazing up at him with that needy, desperate mix of adoration and lust on his face.
Maybe it was because his heart was racing from something he couldn't—wouldn't—name, something he ignored but could never forget. Lu nearly sobbed as Balthazar clenched down on him and breathed, "That's it, love, feel good?"
The strawberry blonde's fingers would surely leave bruises; his nails were already leaving crescent-shaped marks in his skin and his eyes were smoldering, threatening to burn holes into his body. He couldn't make himself care, though. He almost hoped for it. He wanted the evidence of their lovemaking all over him. He wanted to be reminded every time he looked in the mirror that they'd shared this beautiful, intense experience. He wanted it to last forever.
"Oh, Jesus, Balthazar," Lu groaned, "you're so fucking tight… so fucking hot…" He raised his hips, meeting the singer's next thrust and driving himself deeper. Balthazar cried out, reaching for his own erection even as he reminded himself, This is for him. This is for him, not me.
But they were both moving so fast now, their rhythm becoming sloppy and uncoordinated, and he knew neither of them would last much longer. Lu's eyes were finally sliding shut and his grip on Balthazar's hips was slackening and he was panting, giving small shallow thrusts into him but somehow managing to slide across his sweet spot every time. Fireworks sparked across Balthazar's vision and he fought to stay controlled, but he felt himself weakening, felt his restraint and resistance crumbling. He was desperate to just brace himself against the wall his bed was pressed against and just ride Lu until he got off and melted into a puddle. Lu's fingers went from his hips to his chest, sliding over his skin, and somehow that was what sent him over the edge, leaning over the bassist and coming with a barely-muffled cry. "Jesus, Luce," he gasped, trembling as waves of pleasure wracked his body and he leaned back, pumping his dick as he came.
With a debauched moan, Lu followed seconds later, eyes shut tightly. He dug his fingers back into Balthazar's hips and came hard, spilling over and into him, and suddenly Balthazar realized what was different: they hadn't used a condom this time. Panic welled up in him but underneath it was a surprising amount of acceptance. He was fairly sure Lu was clean, and he was too, so if they both were…
He reached for the tissues on his nightstand and wiped at the come that had splattered across the younger man's torso before collapsed against Lu's chest and brushed a few damp strands of hair from his face. As casually as he could, he asked, "Luce? You're clean, right?"
The bassist's eyes fluttered open briefly before he closed them again and snuggled into Balthazar's side. "Yeah. Disease-free since '87," he deadpanned.
Balthazar chuckled softly. "Alright. Good." He kissed Lu's temple and shifted slightly so they were both comfortable. "I'm setting my alarm for six-thirty. That should leave us enough time to get to the hotel."
Lu groaned. "I forgot about that. We still have to go to that label party?"
"Yes, love."
At the nickname, the corner of Lu's mouth quirked up. "Hang on." He slid out of bed and disappeared into the hallway and into his own room for a minute. When he came back, he had the bike chain and lock in his hand, and a thin silver chain with a key hanging from it in his other hand. He crawled back into bed and said, "Look. I know this is… not ideal. But you… I like you a lot and I'm pretty sure you like me. I know this is so fucking stupid," he added, and he was speaking faster now, as if determined to get it all out before his nerve failed him. "I mean, we work together and this has the potential to be a train wreck, but—"
"It's okay," Balthazar said, tilting Lu's head to better reach his mouth. "If you want me, I'm yours."
A sleepy but happy smile flitted across Lu's face. Wordlessly, he looped the remnant of the bike chain around Balthazar's neck and locked it.
It was heavy, but not uncomfortably so. It had enough slack to not present a choking hazard, but it was tight enough so he couldn't slip it over his head. Lu put the other chain around his neck, the one with the key. "If you want me to unlock it, let me know," he murmured, settling in to sleep.
Balthazar's chest tightened again. He knew what he really meant. If you want me to let you go, just ask.
He wrapped one arm around Lu and pulled him close, relieved to hear the bassist's breathing was already slowing. "I've got you," he whispered, kissing the side of his neck.
Five minutes later, they were both fast asleep.
It started out so well and then I tried to smut and...
I promise it was about a thousand times better in my head...
LINDSEY AND BONES. I FUCKING LOVE THEIR CARS OKAY.