Ill Intent

Warning! This fanfic was first an RP, and while spelling and grammar have been changed/fixed, it is still in the form of an RP. This means that the Point Of View(POV), changes with every 'post', which is about every paragraph. Perhaps in the future my cohort and I will re-write it in uniform perspective, perhaps not.

Also! The more you review, the more we upload~.

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Chas Kramer was not a particularly patient fellow. Especially when it came to matters like this - in which Constantine, and the effing supernatural were involved. And when he took this long...

Constantine, he knew, could be even more impatient than he, and typically resolved things rather quickly and effectively. So what was taking him so long? Bottom lip was drawn between his lips and he rolled down the window, sticking his elbow out and leaning his head into the fresh air as he waited.
John couldn’t help it, he moaned, loudly.
With Balthazar pressing him so hard against the wall, the demon’s fingers bruising his hips where they held him, it was hard not to. The demon pressed their lips firmly together; his tongue hot in John’s mouth, his erection hard against the exorcist’s matching one.
“This is a really bad time,” John said, voice stoic, as their lips parted, “I’ve got a job upstairs.”
Balthazar grinned, sharp fangs glinting wickedly in the sunlight that filtered through the dirty window behind them. “No job, just me. This entire building is all ours.”
John grinned back, hands catching the demon’s head and bringing him in for another kiss, this one longer and more passionate. Their meetings were random, sometimes at night, sometimes during the day, once at dusk; they were random, but they were always painful in a way that left John begging silently for more. Balthazar suddenly pulled him away from the window, only to slam him back against it so hard that it shattered, his head bashing through it and the shards of glass raining down on the empty sidewalk bellow.
It hurt like a royal bitch, but John only moaned, the feeling of blood trickling down his neck only adding to the pleasure.

"God, elevator music is cheesy."
Chas resisted the urge to stab the small, round speaker propped up near his right ear, which cheerily spewed the most disgustingly old music known to man. It grated on nerves already on edge from the present scenario, made his foot tap of its own accord against the rising floor.
"Ding-dong!"
Doors slid apart and he sighed, relieved to have arrived at last. Faint sounds touched his ears... Moaning. Was Constantine torturing some poor soul already?
Cocking his weapon - a flimsy thing meant only for the most basic defenses - he headed toward the sounds with the utmost cautiousness. Just a little closer... Going to help Constantine... Going to kick some demonic a--
"...What in the name of--!!!" He'd just swung into the doorway, gun pointed ahead. No amount of Sunday Mass wafers would ever be able to bleach his soul of the image presented in him, so carnal that it made him gulp audibly out of sheer embarrassment. "Am I... interrupting something?"

John moaned, hips begging to thrust, hard cock aching to be touched, and Balthazar ignored him. The kisses turned into teasing brushes, hands loosened their grip and were suddenly caressing skin instead of bruising it. That meant Balthazar was in a needy mood, and John hated those nights. They led into uncomfortable places, where he had to argue with his emotions, because no, he did not want to care about the demon scum, all he wanted to do was get fucked by it and then be left alone for a few days.
"Either fuck me, or walk the fuck away," he breathed, and Balthazar chuckled in return, fingers dancing up under John's shirt to tease over soft skin.
"I love it when you talk dirty, Johnny," he breathed, tongue darting out to trace along the shell of the human's ear.
There was a noise then, a ding sound, and suddenly Chas was there, his words lost on John as Balthazar rocked their hips together hard, making him moan in tortured pleasure. His eyes slipped closed, and when they reopened Chas was standing there, looking very uncomfortable. But the demon's claws were sharp on the sensitive flesh of his abdomen, and his thigh had slipped between Johns in a way that gave the most amazing friction, which had him moaning again, even as Balthazar turned his head to stare at the boy, a wicked grin plastered on his face.
"Yes, you are, but you'd be welcome to join us, I'm sure."

"Yo--I--What?" Chas' hand quivered, fingers straying from the trigger, hand lowering slowly to press the weapon back into its holster. Constantine had obviously let his guard down, which - hopefully - meant that he could do the same.
As long as it didn't constitute making the happy-happy with his demon friend that was.
"I, uh, I... I'd prefer not, thanks." Hands were lifted in surrender, one step taken back as though to return the way he came. "Whole Catholic morals, thing, you know. Enough with the crazy priest scandals; don't need... the teenager-demon thing going on and stuff..." Sweat had broken out on his brow, beads cascading down the bridge of his nose like a curtain. As tempted as he was to join the fun - and some distant part of him did recognize that it was fun - the rational part screamed for repentance.

John was really, really, trying to get himself under control. Desperately, really. His breathing was labored, and Balthazar wasn't giving him an inch, crowding his space with his scent and feel.
"Don't listen," he moaned. "Just get out of here. This one's an evil fucking asshole."
His head fell back, blood staining the windowsill as a moan escaped his slack mouth, tongue darting out to taste lips as he simultaneously wished for it to end and keep going.
Balthazar laughed, leaning in to kiss him along his jaw, slamming him hard against the wall and loving the sound of his pained whimper and impassioned moan.

"J-John, don't you..." Chas gulped, drawing his bottom lip into his mouth and chewing on it out of nervous habit. "I mean, who'm I to butt into your personal life, right? But, you're... You're getting fucked by a demon, John. You realize that, right?" He took another step back, conscience screaming obscenities in his head. He knew he'd said he'd take his leave, knew it would be the "right" thing to back away slowly (and perhaps call a priest), but... Some obligation to Constantine, some curious, youthful nature forced him to stay, back pressed against the doorway, eyes glued to the joined forms of two men before him. He shouldn't have, really shouldn't have... But it was like the scene of a car wreck, and he couldn't quite look away.

Balthazar laughed, a cruel laughed. "Believe me boy, he wishes he was getting fucked right now by a demon, but he's not."
The half breed leaned in, tongue darting out to taste John's lips, tracing them slowly, following the line of his jaw to his neck. He loved the way the human's head rolled back, eyes closing, struggling not to moan. He knew that if the boy wasn't still there he would already have Johnny on his hands and knees, fucking him into the floorboards. The boy was making the exorcist resist, and while a part of him longed to break through the resistance, another part whispered that it would be much better not to, and to let him walk away aroused, wanting more.
"I think I'll leave you now, Johnny boy," he whispered into the exorcist's ear, hands moving carefully, delicately, over the man's sides, an almost hug to say farewell. "But I'll come back very soon to finish what we've started."
John's eyes opened, and he shoved the half breed away, hard. "Half breed trash. Get the fuck lost."
Balthazar smirked, and in a flurry of motion was gone.

Chas was left blushing, breathing with just a touch of added effort, and altogether very flustered. John, it seemed, was in an even worse position. What had just happened?
"Are... you all right?" Head poked further into the room, swiveling to the left and right, eyes narrowed as he studied the vicinity to be sure that Balthazar was gone. Scratching at the back of his neck, he took a few steps inward, approaching his ally and, what he considered to be, friend. "He didn't screw you over or anything did he? No pun intended." There was a sense of disgust in Chas' gut, mixed with something warm and tight... Some foreign sensation which he didn't quite appreciate, that made beads of sweat trickle down the crease between his eyebrows.

John took a deep breath. He would need lots of whiskey to clear this one up. "I'm fine," he said coolly, hand moving to touch the back of his head, where a sharp shard of glass was still stuck in his scalp. He yanked it out and tossed it to the floor, then pulled a box of cigarettes from his coat and tugged one out, lighting it on auto pilot and walking briskly to the elevator. "Let's go. I'm sure there's something for you to be doing elsewhere."
He really just wanted to get home, drink himself into oblivion, and maybe wake up with Balthazar between his legs. The thought almost made him sick. He was trying to buy his way into heaven, but instead he was screwing a half breed from Hell in abandoned apartment buildings while his apprentice waited in the car. He punched the button for the elevator and climbed in, pressing the button for the ground floor. He needed a very cold shower.

Worry crossed the younger's features, his own face contorting into a wince as a sliver of glass was produced from the back of John's head. Jesus. This guy had really done a number on him... Then again, Constantine didn't appear to have struggled too hard against him.
Following the other around like a lost puppy, his own expression conveying a sense of fear for his companion rather than anger, Chas thought of solutions. There weren't really many - in fact, he couldn't think of any.
But he could think of questions.
"Was it good?" God that sounded stupid. "Uh, you know... You weren't really fighting. I figure... It must've been good." He coughed into a fist, eyes wandering.

John's eyes widened as the elevator began to move. "Jesus, Chas! " He wondered if he was blushing, he hadn't in years, but right now felt like a good time to start. The kid had balls, he'd give him that much. He took a long drag from his cigarette, looking straight ahead at the closed metal doors. "He's a half breed piece of shit that shows up whenever the hell he feels like to fuck around, and then takes off again."
But that didn't really answer the question, and John knew that Chas knew that. It was just a nice way of skipping around the question for a few seconds. John was horny, and sore, and his shirt, which had been white and cost almost two hundred dollars, was completely ruined. He didn't have the energy to skirt around the issues for long and sighed. "Yes, it was good." His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose. "Not that I suggest you run off to Midnite's and find some demon whore to fuck all night."

Chas jumped at the sound of his name, teeth clenching as though in preparation for a scolding. But Constantine was not the type - and thank goodness for that. Instead, the young man was greeted by more of a nonchalant attitude, moderated carefully.
"Oh, man, no, no, no... Of course not." Chas stuffed his fingers into his pockets, twirling loose change against them. "If I wanted it that badly, I'm sure they have an escort service. Phone book, you know." He looked down at his shoes, studying undone laces. "What's the difference? Between them and, like... Normal people?" He gave John a sidelong glance. "I know I sound like a total pervert, I'm just curious, 'cos... I've never... Y'know." Pulling one hand free, he made a rocking motion with his hips and "spanked" the air with his palm.

John coughed slightly, taking another long drag from his cigarette. "There's not much difference physically."
His words sounded awkward, uncomfortable and lame, but Chas had asked, and the kid was his apprentice, right?
"It's more of the attitude, and motions," he continued, his free hand gesturing lamely. "With another human being things tend to be gentler, not always, but most times. Things are a little more about connecting on a deeper level."
This was not a talk he was comfortable having, he decided as the elevator stopped on the ground floor, doors opening and natural light spilling in on them. John made no move to get out, and soon the doors closed again, though the elevator didn't move. "With half breeds, with demon half breeds, it's the same, but different... ugh, this is humiliating. They feed on emotions, negative ones. They inflict pain and in pain they find pleasure."
He took a deep breath. "They dominate, control, hurt, and show you that you're still alive because when they’re with you, you understand what death might feel like."

Chas had been not-so-subtly pointing at the elevator doors when John's speech interrupted their movement outward... Defeated as they shut, he sighed. "Well, that doesn't sound all that fun. I'm all for passion, but drawing blood is a little much, don't you think?" He turned, marching a few short steps to one side and squeezing in front of Constantine to access the panel, jabbing at the button for the door to open. "I always imagined my first time would be with some nice blond chick in high school with a huge rack... Slow and easy, typical human junk, I guess." When the doors didn't respond, he frowned and smacked the button with his knuckle. "'Course, I never got any in high school... Or ever. No wonder I turned out as I am." The button popped out as a result of abuse, landing on the floor, useless. "Shit. We're stuck."

John raised an eyebrow as he bent down to pick up the fallen button, gently pushing Chas aside to try it himself. "What do you mean, as you are? How are you exactly?"
Okay, so maybe he cared a little for his apprentice. But how could he not? The boy was always there. It was like taking in a puppy; feed it for three days and it's yours no matter what. He sighed when the elevator did prove to be stuck, hands disappearing into pockets. He was feeling a lot less horny now; the conversation had helped with that at least. He coughed slightly; the tickling in his lungs had been getting worse over the past few days. He hoped he wasn't getting sick.

"A sissy virgin?" Chas answered, as though it were the most obvious response in the world. "I'm twenty and I haven't even gotten a blowjob. If that isn't the saddest thing in the world..." Where had his shame gone? He brushed John again as he squirmed away a few paces, delivering a sharp kick to the elevator doors - and smacking his foot with a crunch in the process. "Fuck!" He whimpered, not unlike the puppy Constantine mentally compared him to. Whining, he backed up and slid to the floor, cradling his ankle. "I am so useless..."

John sighed, reaching out to put a hand on Chas' shoulder. "You're not useless."
He was terrible with the inspirational speeches. "Being a virgin isn't a bad thing... Not every teenager whores themselves out just for the sake of no longer being a virgin."
He frowned, he had whored himself out. He lost his virginity when he was fifteen, to two jocks at his high school. He shuddered, it hadn't been entirely unpleasant, but it certainly hadn't helped his mental development. He stepped closer without realizing it, hand massaging Chas' shoulder in a comforting way. "You're not useless."

Chas muscles twitched as though he'd been struck by a hot spoke. As friendly as he was, the last thing he expected from Constantine was the sense of touch. Though, his words did console him to some degree. "Okay, I think you're missing the point here. As nice as it is to be a good Christian boy and 'save yourself' until marriage, I'd like to experience something other than my hand before I hit sixty, yanno?" As John neared him further, he found himself flushing, eyes widening by a hair's width. The mini-massage was good, but he could smell Constantine's previous arousal - the scent of sex and sweat - lingering on him, and it made him nervous. "But, thanks, anyway..."

John smirked, chuckled a little. "I'm sure you'll find someone before you hit sixty you're quite the catch."
He leaned in and his voice took on a conspiratorial tone, "Not everyone runs around with the John Constantine."
It was true, most people shied away from him, most without even realizing they were doing it. They could sense, instinctually, that being near him was bad on their life spans. He straightened, pressed the button for the doors to open again, and wasn't too surprised that they refused to cooperate.
"How's your foot?" he asked absentmindedly.

"Except crazy half-demons, apparently." Chas cracked the statement as a means of humor, without thinking, and immediately regretted it. "Urgh, I'm sorry... I didn't mean for it to come out like that." He slumped, eyelids sliding shut. He had felt John's faint breath when he had leaned in to murmur; the sensation had, oddly enough, made him warm. "It's fine. Just sore." He flexed toes in his shoe. "So... What makes me a good catch, other than my dashing good looks?"

John chuckled, deciding to ignore the unintentional slight on his sexual preferences. "Dashing good looks, great personality, you're intelligent, or so you keep telling me. Kicking that door says otherwise."
He leaned back and examined the boy, "You could use a change of clothes, but you do look good in that outfit."
He leaned in and sniffed, the boys scent filling his nose. "You smell pretty good, too. All in all, a great catch. Some blond with a big rack will be happy to find you."

Chas' chest puffed with pride as John continued, a smile overtaking his ripe lips despite the comment about the door. "Yeah, this stuff is old... And it's getting really stuffy in here. It's too heavy." Smile faded and he pulled at his collar, rippling his shirt to fan himself. The confined quarters trapped the warm air despite the ventilation, making the elevator cabin feel more and more like a sauna.
Blush deepened into scarlet as John moved to sniff at him, body wriggling. "Th... Thanks. I use the good shampoo. The stuff that doesn't smell like shit." He bit lightly at a thumbnail. "So if I'm such a good catch, would I be good enough to make it on your fucklist? I'm no demon, but from what you've said..." As awkward as it sounded, it was meant as an innocent inquiry to deduce his own "sexy-meter."

John straightened and pulled back at the question. Yes, he thought, definitely on my fucklist, right in the top two, above Balthazar. He swallowed. "My fucklist?"
He looked around awkwardly, his cigarette long gone, hands twitching nervously. There were options here, as to how he could respond; honestly, or not so honestly. Honestly would be embarrassing, admitting that he lusted after a twenty year old boy; not honestly would crush the kids ego and make him sulk for the rest of the afternoon.
He mentally sighed, but outwardly smirked. No matter what he said he had to say it confidently, and even arrogantly.
"Well, I suppose you could make it on my fucklist if you were wearing less in the way of clothing.”

"Yeah?"
Chas seemed to chew this thought a bit before nodding slowly. "Well, I am hot. In a literal sense." So, it was perfectly normal to strip. Of course.
Hat went first, pulled off his head and placed with tender care to one side. Jacket was next, fingers prying the worn, body-heated fabric from his shoulders, rolling up the garment into a ball and setting it beside his hat. Finally, he worked on his shirt, fiddling a bit with the top button before working his way down, the blush spreading to his ears as he gradually revealed his bare flesh. He didn't have a six pack or rock hard pecks, but he was lean, his stomach flat and his skin reflecting a pleasant tan. Shivering slightly, he allowed the shirt to pool in his lap. "What about now?"

John licked his lips without realizing it, pulse quickening just slightly. He nodded, breath almost hitching. "Getting there..." he muttered, leaning in. "Definitely getting there."
He slid his coat off, letting it fall to the floor without a thought. His white shirt was stained red down the back, his belt still unbuckled from when Balthazar had been seducing him against the wall.

"You mean I'm not there yet?" Chas suddenly felt like he'd lost a hand at strip poker. He'd thought his shirt would be enough to boil John's blood, his own nature ever-playful, but it was apparently having the very opposite effect.
Not that he minded.
"Your shirt..." Like a scene out of a bad porn movie, the boy moved to his knees and shifted forward, crawling - and stumbling, once - toward Constantine, hands gripping a stained shirt. "Lemme help." One hand worked the buttons of a garment that had probably cost more than Chas made in a year, while the other worked the buckle of his belt, so that they were soon in an equal state of undress. He ghosted fingertips along John's back, wincing. "Does it hurt?"

John winced slightly as one of his many cuts was touched, the stinging sensation bringing him back down to earth. Did Chas realize how sexy he was? It had been more than enough to take off his shirt, but John desperately wanted more. He moaned slightly, squirming, leaning towards Chas. "It hurts in a good way," he groaned, "A very good way."
He was on the verge of growing hard, his restraint at its breaking point. "You're definitely on my fucklist, Chas."

"I didn't think pain could ever feel good..." Chas was already hard, and pummeling himself with mental curses for being so. The Hell was wrong with him that he was getting worked up just by being near a half-naked Constantine? Had he finally lost his marbles? Had John really sapped him of his remaining sanity?
"Can you show me?" The plea was gasped more than spoken, eyes lidded and shoulders tensed. His face was hovering just before John's, their noses nearly touching, his hair flattened from his hat and strewn across his forehead.

John didn't respond verbally, he leaned in the remaining few inches and captured Chas' lips with his own, pressing the boy back until he was laying down, John hovering above him, one hand holding his weight, the other touching the exposed skin of the boys chest, and trailing down over his stomach. He pulled their lips apart, smirking, "Show you what exactly?" He leaned down, teeth nibbling gently on the boys neck before a quick, painful bite was inflicted, the traumatized area soothed with a skilled flick of tongue and touch of lips. "How good the pain can be? It isn't for everyone, some people never learn to crave it, but I did. I have always been a bit of a masochist though."

There was a gasp from the boy, cut off as a mouth smothered his own, initiating Chas' first male-to-male kiss. It was... extraordinary, filled with a kind of dark, hard passion that he'd never experienced before... But instantly wanted more of. "Mm...!" Fire welled up where Constantine's fingertips roamed his form stiffening entirely from the contact. He struggled for breath once the kiss was broken, head arching back when teeth found his neck. "Yess..." Good God, no wonder everyone was so scared of this man. He'd made Chas melt in less than five minutes, the youth writhing on the floor with knees spread to prevent constriction on an aching arousal.
There was a moment in which he whined, the bite a sudden twist, but had served to flare pleasant goose bumps along his skin. "It's good..." He reached for the wound at the back of John's head, dipping a finger along it, a mix between rough-and-gentle. "I like it..."

John groaned, fitting so easily between the boys legs that the word perfect ran through his mind before every logical thought was gone. His cuts hurt, stung really, and the pressure on them was the last straw. He grew achingly hard, gasping into Chas' neck, fingers clinging tightly to thin hips as he longed for some sort of release. His tongue flicked out again and dragged along the boy’s ear, the taste making him shiver.
"Your skin is delicious," he whispered hotly in Chas' ear. "Better than that licorice you're always eating. Better than whiskey."
He sucked on the boys ear lobe, nibbling on it gently, then moving on to his neck again, where he alternated between biting and sucking, leaving bright red marks that he knew would become hickies. He grinned, pulling away, rocking their erections together, and moaning. "Feel like getting a blowjob before you're sixty?" he asked, the words accompanied by another rock of his hips.

Chas was clawing at his partner's back, nails finding purchase in his skin, though he was reluctant to add to the red mess sported there. Hips worked circles against the air, pressing into John's palms, thighs clenching to raise his backside from the floor in desperation. The man's words reached into him, pulling at his gut, making his head swarm with horribly dirty thoughts that would put Playgirl to shame. "You're just saying that... because you wanna get in my pants..." He was heaving now; groaning in delight and urging Constantine to bite further with scratches to his back and tugs at his hair. Legs lifted, hooking around the elder's waist in a purely instinctual movement. "And it's working..." He rocked back upward, completely neglecting morality. "Are you serious?" Chas looked like Christmas had come early.

John smiled, a wicked grin, and removed himself from lying on top of his apprentice. He moved down slowly, kissing and licking his way down the younger man's chest and torso, until he was tugging at the button on his jeans with his teeth, silently begging. He released it and leaned down to nuzzle the erection hidden behind the thick denim. "Do I look like I'm joking?" His fingers danced over the button as he waited for permission.

Chas mourned the temporary loss of John's presence above him, however brief. But his lips took his place, trailing down until the boy was a simpering mass of horny goo. "Uungh..." Legs spread further and his jaws parted in a silent scream, saliva trickling down his chin from the corner of his lips. That was... His pants weren't even gone yet, and he was already fighting the urge to come.
"Please..." He wasn't giving his permission - he was begging. "Please, Constantine..." He reached to touch the man's face, his own bright red.

John licked his lips, groaning as he slowly unbuttoned and unzipped the jeans, slowly dragging them down off of the younger man's narrow hips, but not taking them all the way off. Boxers were next, pulled down to the jeans and then ignored as he became all eyes for the hard cock before him. His tongue touched at the tip, tasting the pre-come, and he moaned at the taste before dragging his tongue down the shaft to the base, then back up. "Have I already told you how delicious you are?" he asked, repeating the process three more times before pulling the head into his mouth and sucking at it gently, teeth grazing over the sensitive flesh with care.

Jeans were left removed halfway, tangling the boy's knees and legs. "Ohh..." His cries were heartfelt, increasing in volume when his last remaining article of clothing was tugged down to meet his jeans, exposing his most intimate parts to the other. He felt so very bare, embarrassed beyond belief. He'd never revealed himself to anyone like this, never...
"God, John!" The first touch, moist and warm against him, made his right leg jerk violently - but the spasm was restrained by denim, effectively trapping Chas at Constantine's mercy. He sighed, pressing his fingers hard against John's scalp, nearly choking him on his length in his rush for pleasure.

John chuckled, but it was muffled vibration as he sucked, his head bobbing, lips sliding up and down repeatedly, tongue twisting and pulling. The cries sounded so good to his ears, and he moaned, and then moaned again, beginning to hum, to add to Chas' pleasure. His fingers held the boy's hips in place, pinning them down to the floor of elevator. 'Should've done this months ago,' he thought distractedly, eyes locking on Chas' face, watching the pleasure that was so easily seen there.

Well.
Chas howled, back curving. This was... insane. He was trapped in an elevator with his "partner," glued to the floor, and getting the first blow job of his life. It was the most intense, fantastic feeling ever.
Head turned sharply to one side, nose wrinkling cutely and brows knitting together as he struggled against himself. He didn't want to come, didn't want to give out so quickly... But it was too much for him to handle the first time, with Constantine swallowing around him, working his tongue in ways he didn't think were even possible. A shriek, almost feminine in nature, and Chas bucked, dragging his nails along John's head as his length sputtered and spilled, the sac beneath tight with release. Relief flooded him, sweet and warm, rocking his nerves so that his whole body quivered. A gasp and he stilled, then, relaxing only after the last streams had dissipated. "Ungh..."

John swallowed every drop, moaning as he did, loving the taste and feel of the warm semen that filled his mouth. Pulling away, he licked his lips, loving the sight of post-orgasm Chas.
"You're definitely on my fucklist, Chas."