Slither

Slither

By KC Bailey

Notes: Inspired partly by the music video for Love Remains the Same by Gavin Rossdale. Watch it if you'd like to know what Balthazar looks like in the shower.

Chapter 2 – In which Balthazar's tail evidently has a mind of its own and John Constantine is a voyeur.


The pasta looked and smelled delicious, even with the amount of wine Balthazar had added to the sauce. Constantine still wasn't sure he trusted it, but Balthazar didn't seem to care. The halfbreed set their plates down and then took his place a little stiffly back at the table, digging in to his food with relish and not particularly caring if John decided to forego the meal out of paranoia.

Not able to think of a reason for Balthazar to poison him at that particular moment, Constantine gave in to temptation and tried the spaghetti, instantly hooked. He couldn't remember the last time someone had cooked for him, it was odd. Especially the fact that it was Balthazar, the slick, arrogant, occasionally homicidal hellspawn. But damn, that freak could cook.

“I take it you approve, Johnny-boy.” Balthazar smiled slightly, watching John wolf his share down and wondering how often the exorcist actually ate. He might have been strong, but he was also skinny as hell. Probably all the cigarettes.

“Didn't know you could cook.” John muttered, diverting so that he didn't have to admit how good it was. Surviving on whiskey and whatever was easy and within reach was never a good idea, especially when that food tended to be breadsticks for some reason.

“I've been around a while, Johnny. Besides, surviving on takeout isn't my style.” The demon smirked, sucking a strand of spaghetti up and licking his lips with that wicked forked tongue.

“Figures.” John replied, imagining Balthazar alone in some big, expensive apartment, cooking himself dinner. It was an image that made him smile slightly despite himself. “I thought you preferred human flesh.”

Balthazar leered at him and took a sip of his scotch, oddly comfortable having what passed as a conversation with the man he'd been annoying on purpose for years. “I'm more of a blood man myself.” He purred. “Although I can handle a little sinner as long as they're well done. They usually are, down there.”

“You don't sound as though you'll miss it that much.” John commented, trying to steer the topic of conversation away from anything that would give him mental images of Balthazar drinking blood. It had never struck him as a sexy thing to do until he pictured Balthazar doing it. Christ, having the halfbreed around and not fighting was doing some serious numbers on his libido.

“I won't.” Balthazar assured him, finishing up his food and leaning back in the chair to nurse his drink, trying to ignore the various lacerations under his shirt. “They always want to kill everything, as a businessman I think the whole idea is flawed. Why kill them? Unless they're particularly annoying, of course. Humans are so much more fun alive. You can't lead the dead into temptation, after all.” The demon explained, unwinding his tail and casually inspecting it, prodding at a small nick near the spade-shaped end. That stung worse than a papercut and his tail flinched away from the examination of its own accord.

John watched the tail, blinking at the oddity of it all. Even for him this was surreal. It was then that he noticed that the white shirt Balthazar was wearing beneath his suit jacket wasn't so white anymore. A patch of red was slowly creeping across it from beneath one of the lapels.

“You're bleeding, Balthazar.” The exorcist pointed out, getting up and stalking over to the demon, who frowned and looked down at the stain.

“Oh, wonderful. That's never going to come out.” He said, gingerly shedding his jacket. John drew in a sharp breath at the amount of bloody patches standing out against the white material, helpfully pouring Balthazar another large scotch and handing it to him.

“You could have mentioned that you were bleeding to death, you idiot.” Constantine admonished, wondering why he was worried.

“It's news to me, Johnny-boy. Don't worry though, I don't think I can actually bleed to death and it'll heal up soon enough.” The demon said with his trademark smirk in place.

“You don't THINK you can bleed to death? How can you not know that?” Constantine growled, irritated by the fact that he was worried for the demon he was almost, ALMOST starting to like.

“I've never tried it before.” Balthazar said simply, raising a hand to touch his chest and not expecting it to hurt as much as it did. He silently grit his teeth and hunched in on himself a little, shoulders shuddering.

“Get up and take a shower, wash some of that blood off. I'll fix you up.” Constantine commanded, instantly seeing how much pain Balthazar was in because he'd stopped smirking and making wise-ass comments.

“You're too kind, Johnny.” The halfbreed said in a slightly shaky voice, allowing Constantine to help him up out of the chair. John valiantly ignored the thrill that trickled down his spine at having the smaller man in his arms, shooing Balthazar off towards the bathroom. The demon complied, glad his legs were relatively undamaged and also glad of the chance to be away from the exorcist for a few moments. Being so close to him had been almost as torturous as the cuts covering his upper body when he was so very in tune with lust. Usually in other humans, but having John touch him was almost overwhelming when the lust was his own.

XxXxX

As Balthazar carefully took a shower and washed away the blood seeping from his tanned skin, Constantine fetched a pair of grey slacks for the demon to wear, opening the door a little to lay them on the chair inside the bathroom. Knowing it was wrong but not caring, John snuck a glance at the showering demon as he left. There was an image that was going to come back to him when he was laying in bed later, he mused. The halfbreed had been arching into the scalding hot spray, running his fingers across his torn chest and closing his glowing eyes. His skin was perfectly tanned golden, and he had the tightest, sexiest ass John had ever seen, the long, thin tail sliding up and down his hip restlessly.

Unable to turn away, John closed the door most of the way but left enough room to continue watching, hidden from the demon's view. The tail which had been caressing the skin of Balthazar's tanned hip slowly crept back a little, slyly beginning to move up from the back of his thigh. Balthazar slapped it away absently but it was back after a moment, the thick, fleshy, spade-shaped tip pressing itself up between the perfect cheeks of his ass.

“Mmh, stop it.” Balthazar mumbled, sighing in pleasure and leaning heavily against the wall. John could no longer see much of the tail, only a snake-like length coiled around Balthazar's thigh. He could guess where it had decided to slither off to, though. The demon splayed a hand against his slim, tanned belly and slid it down to take himself in his fist, letting his smouldering eyes slide closed. A moment later John smirked wickedly as the tail evidently made itself known again. Balthazar groaned and rocked up on his toes, biting his lip to keep from making too much noise. The wounds on his chest seemed to have at least sealed themselves, since he was panting heavily and they hadn't started bleeding again. John was a little relieved at that, but the thought was only a fleeting concern in a haze of lust as he watched Balthazar's little shower session, his fist working in firm strokes. Still biting his lip and looking for all the world like a soaked pin-up, the demon slid his free hand up his chest to the ragged edges of the cuts, tracing the hypersensitive, healing skin there. His nipples hardened and he scraped his finely manicured nails over them gently, shivering and giving a breathless gasp.

That tail was definitely on his side, John decided as he watched it coil and wriggle inside the demon, who finally let a small cry spill from his lips. As he came into the hot spray he shuddered deeply and writhed against the wall, the hand on his chest sliding up into his own hair and clawing though it while he moaned out his pleasure. The tail slithered out of him almost guiltily and Balthazar opened his dazed, glowing eyes to stare blankly at the ceiling while he recovered, trying to get his breathing under control.

Before the demon came to his senses, John slipped away and headed to his room, knowing he was going to have to relieve a little tension before he could face Balthazar again after that.

XxXxX

Once Balthazar was finally out of the shower John had him sit back in one of the chairs at the kitchen table, gauze and tape laid out next to him.

“How many were there?” The exorcist asked as he got to work, trying not to obviously let his hands linger on Balthazar's golden skin.

“I'm not sure, more than eight. I wasn't about to be killed by some pathetic little minions though. They fared a lot worse than I did.” The demon assured, enjoying having John's hands on him. He leant back in the chair with his burning eyes half-lidded, allowing the exorcist to do as he pleased.

“Good.” Constantine muttered, approving wholeheartedly of crushing Lucifer's simpering minions. He stood up once Balthazar's chest was bandaged, moving behind the chair and unable to resist the urge to settle his hands on the demon's bare shoulders, which relaxed under his touch.

“Johnny...” The halfbreed murmured, about to speak further when a knock at the door made them both flinch. John grit his teeth in annoyance, reluctantly removing his hands from Balthazar's shoulders. Whoever was on the other side of that door had better have a damned important reason for being there, because he'd been enjoying himself.

Worst. Timing. Ever.

TBC

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