Angels aren't anywhere near as organized as a hive of bees, Balthazar told Castiel once. If a queen bee dies, the workers just raise up another in her place. Feed her the royal jelly in the brood cell and off you go. We can't do that. We can't raise a queen, and we can't replace ourselves.
But they are like bees in that they're meant to live as a group. Solitary angels don't fare well. It shouldn't be a surprised to find both he and Lucifer have a mutual longing for company of their kind, one that translates easily--tempestuously--into reaching out to one as a lover.
Balthazar isn't afraid. Nothing worse could possibly happen to him than solitude, anyway, and this, whatever happens, is the opposite of that. As they sink deeper into one another, Lucifer will certainly sense a kind of calm despair in this angel, in spite of all his love and appreciation for beauty. He's convinced there is no hope for his kind, in his world, and it hurts. But even in futility, love and pleasure are not to be denied.
He tugs at the fabric of Lucifer's shirt to get at his throat and collarbone, lavish and thorough in his attentions. His true voice is comparatively soft for the moment, but the sounds it makes are unmistakably moans and sighs of affectionate pleasure.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2019-08-17 02:40 am (UTC)But they are like bees in that they're meant to live as a group. Solitary angels don't fare well. It shouldn't be a surprised to find both he and Lucifer have a mutual longing for company of their kind, one that translates easily--tempestuously--into reaching out to one as a lover.
Balthazar isn't afraid. Nothing worse could possibly happen to him than solitude, anyway, and this, whatever happens, is the opposite of that. As they sink deeper into one another, Lucifer will certainly sense a kind of calm despair in this angel, in spite of all his love and appreciation for beauty. He's convinced there is no hope for his kind, in his world, and it hurts. But even in futility, love and pleasure are not to be denied.
He tugs at the fabric of Lucifer's shirt to get at his throat and collarbone, lavish and thorough in his attentions. His true voice is comparatively soft for the moment, but the sounds it makes are unmistakably moans and sighs of affectionate pleasure.