Drink From Me

Title: Drink from Me
Rating: NC-17 for explicit sexual situations
Pairing: Balthazar x John, implied John x Chas
Spoilers: None
Description: Our favorite half-breed demon shows us exactly what he can do with that forked snake tongue. Also, we discover BZR might be able to market a new kind of product...
Author's Note: Finally, a hot bit of lemon between the two ^_~. It's assumed that they've been having some kind of relationship for awhile...and yes, this is a drabble because I didn't feel like writing ten chapters detailing how that relationship came to be. Will figure it out later. And write. Hopefully. Oh, one last thing. I had no clue how many times a human male could climax in one...night. So those numbers are completely made up (and probably way too high, but then there's the deus ex machina of Balthazar's aphrodisiac powers).
Disclaimer: I do not own Balthazar or Constantine. These characters belong solely to Warner Brothers and DC/Vertigo. I make absolutely no profit off of this.

Balthazar liked to use his tongue. He liked to wrap that long, forked muscle around the other's cock and tickle its underside in agonizingly slow strokes. He liked to trace wet paths along its full length, pausing to linger longest at that delightfully pink tip. When he was feeling particularly sadistic, he would tighten his hold around the base like an anaconda binding its prey, then alternately squeeze and release for seconds upon minutes upon hours until all John could manage were fitful gasps, eyes rolled back in lust-gorged ecstasy. Usually though, he opted for the faster course. Because, above all else, Balthazar liked to swallow.

"A-Ah God - " Hips buck forward, as hot seed pumps into an eagerly waiting mouth. John shudders violently, once, before collapsing back onto the bed (sofa? too numb to tell at this point), spent for the fifth time that night. Or was it sixth? He'd lost count long ago.

Balthazar drinks it all in short, hungry gulps, throat working up and down like a cat's. "Mmm...Johnny boy. Quite delicious." One finger traces languid circles along the curve of his inner thigh, meticulously picking up every last drop. The jaw gapes wide to welcome sticky manna, slowly sucking from each end, eyes never leaving his own. "Shall we have another go?"

"You're...insatiable...Balthazar." Cheek pressed against sweat-drenched collar, he forces the words out between ragged pants for breath. "In every...possible meaning...of the word."

The demon smirks condescendingly. "Unlike certain feeble humans."

"I'm not a fucking whore, dammit!" John snaps, anger briefly overtaking exhaustion. "There's not a soul in LA who can keep up with your pace."

"Oh? I beg to differ." A smug grin snakes its way up the oddly handsome face. "In fact, I do recall one particular boy who might enjoy a taste of - " The other glares at him dangerously, eyes promising death (or rather, deportation) despite their current position. "Then again, I suppose I could provide a little...aid." With a chuckle, the demon hooks two fingers hard into his victim's stomach, linking the two in perverse conjointment. A burst of intense light, and suddenly, raw strength - no, lust - rushes through John like some kind of virulent electric shock.

"Could make millions with that aphrodisiac," he grates out before finding himself once more pressed against damp sheets. A sweetly dangerous smile flashes before his eyes.

"Ready?" Without waiting for an answer, Balthazar dips down to capture the other's quivering length in his own hot, ravenous lips. Familiar carnal yearnings begin to reawaken, building, growing, spreading to fill every inch of John's body with their guilty touch. Shit, not again. This would be the death of him. Coronary thrombosis or demonic possession, it all ended the same. There was no way in hell he'd come another time, not for Chas, not for Balthazar, not for the arch-fucking-bishop himself.

But in the end, he did.