Beside the Still Waters (Locked to the_rebel_son)

[tryingitall]

The river is wide and placid, water a deep greenish-brown from a distance, clearer the closer you get, with patches of whitewater toward the center. The rocks Balthazar has set them on are a small island, more than enough space to house dozens of sunbathers, and surrounded by water weeds on all sides. There are chalk drawings on one of the boulders. Looks like a crude mermaid, a few birds, and several games of tic-tac-toe.

Balthazar looks around to make sure they're alone, and then takes Lucifer's hand and holds it against his chest, looking up into his face. "This should be safer."

His wings are still flared, in that quantum state that hides them from human eyes, but visible to Lucifer once more. If anything, they look slightly fluffier. That's either a response to the energy or some kind of semi-physical reaction to arousal. He's blushing a little, too.

Comments

[the_rebel_son]

"Or up against the wall." Hedonism was definitely a language Lucifer understood, though he had a feeling whatever happened with this angel was going to redefine his sense of what that word meant.

The touch of the angel's lips brought a single ragged breath before Lucifer returned the kiss. The passion was intoxicating. He slid his hands up the angel's back and into the feathers closest to his skin, pulling Balthazar against his body.

Slowly, reluctantly, Lucifer pulls away from the kiss. "If you continue kissing me in this manner I am never going to make it to your bed."

Lucifer could have stayed here on this rock, with this angel, for days, but he was starting to feel an urgent desire to get the confrontations and duties out of the way. To be free of responsibilities, for awhile, so he could properly indulge Balthazar without interruption or distracting from his own thoughts.

[tryingitall]

Oh, Hell, yes. Up against the wall sounds delightful. He gets a vivid mental picture of his own silhouette scorched into the surface of a wall, inside the shape of Lucifer's wings, which is much sexier than it should be.

Nevertheless, he breaks from the kiss when Lucifer pauses, stroking through his hair and smiling. "It's nice to be wanted. I suppose we should get dressed again...shall I show you my apartment?"

[the_rebel_son]

Lucifer has that intoxicated grin again. "The feeling is mutual, petaloúdo."

That was definitely sticking as a pet name. It might have anyway but Balthazar's confession of liking it sealed the name firmly in place. Lucifer glanced at the clothes strewn across the rocks and sighed, reluctant to get up but knowing it was necessary.

"I should see where I will be staying." There was a hint of flirting to his tone but also a commitment to the idea. Lucifer was still very confused over his own feelings and what was happening. The fear was gone though when he thought about the situation. The stubborn, rebelliousness had taken hold. He would have his way in his own kingdom or there would be literal Hell to pay.

[tryingitall]

Despite his generally dissipated, too-cool and casual outward attitude, Lucifer will certainly find, it he hasn't realized already, that Balthazar is a pushover for sweet-talk. Any pet name would please him, but one referencing delicate beauty (and/or the ascendancy of the spirit, depending who you ask), is the best possible choice to touch his heart.

He'll need some time to come up with something better for Lucifer than the usual 'darling' and 'love'.

"It's not all that exciting," he says, kissing his cheek, and then disengaging just enough to re-clothe himself with a whoosh of angelic magic, rather than the slow, mortal way. "Yet. I'll see if I can't spruce it up a bit. I wish you could visit my world. It's a disaster right now, but I've got a very nice place outside Monte Carlo and a charming safe house in Bar Harbor."

[the_rebel_son]

Lucifer wasn't one for nicknames or pet names, it was one of the remnants of his old formality, but with Balthazar it seemed the right thing. It revealed a lot about his emotional state though he hadn't thought about that yet.

"You should see where I live." Lucifer had a rare moment of joking about his damnation. He obliged to use magic to redress as well. Fire curling through his wings briefly, as it did whenever his angelic powers surfaced.

"Nothing is impossible." Lucifer smiled though he knew that visiting would probably be even more foolish than what was already going on. His ability to experience hope often lead to more trouble than one would expect from a virtue.

[tryingitall]

Balthazar drops endearments like they're going out of style, but he doesn't always mean them. In this case he does, which is a frightening thing, but easy to rationalize. He doesn't doubt Lucifer's sincerity, so if this goes badly it will be something being the control of either one of them, and given that he suspects his own world is inching closer to Apocalypse rather than further from it, if it does go badly, he's got nothing to lose.

Might as well blow coke and jump on the bed, he told Castiel. Might as well fall in love with another world's Lucifer doesn't have quite the same ring to it, but overall it's a far more positive sentiment.

"Clearly you're correct," he murmurs. "Nothing is impossible, because here we are."

He reaches out to link hands with him. "Flying or walking?"

[the_rebel_son]

Lucifer's world would be apocalyptic when he returned to it, but universe shattering disobedience had been his way since the beginning. No reason to back down now. He had raised war on God and all the angels, at least this time he would be facing fewer angels and no God. (Unless the seraphim caught him outside of Hell, which he wasn't even thinking of yet.)

Even acknowledging the rebellion he was raising his mind was still more focused on the fluttering and electric feeling when Balthazar took his hand. He held tight to his hand as the brief fear of someone killing him flashed in his mind. His own determined pride drowned it as quickly as it appeared. Lucifer was not one to be trifled with and they all would learn that quickly enough.

He leaned in and placed a warm kiss on Balthazar's cheek. "Fly."

[tryingitall]

Balthazar has never been loved like this, never been doted on. He's always been part of a collective, a small part and not really vital, but contributing what he could. That used to be enough. Even if he hadn't already left Heaven, though, he realizes now that after the soft kiss, the round of fierce lovemaking, the moments of passionate devotion--being another bee in the hive would never be enough again.

He straightens, spreading his wings, and takes flight, pulling them through space a short way once more, only to land in the entryway to his apartment. It's effectively a penthouse, really, despite his protests that it's just a crash-pad. Balthazar doesn't do much of anything by halves. The entranceway opens up into a large livingroom with dining and entertainment areas on either side, and immense windows opening up onto a small terrace with a view of the Plaza below, and across the buildings into the Wilds beyond.

"There's only the one master bedroom, I'm afraid," he purrs softly into Lucifer's ear. "You'd have to share with me."

((floor plan for my future reference.))

[the_rebel_son]

Lucifer had never been part of anything. Even in Heaven, he had been outside the fold, an angelic alpha. Instinctively, he had given over some of that power to this angel. It was more than a way to stabilize the exaggerated power dynamic. Calling Balthazar a consort hadn't been an accident, though it was a flirtatious tease in the moment. He could feel it keenly, a bit of his pride relenting.

The large windows are something Lucifer appreciates. He wondered if some of them faced the sunrise. One of the worst tortures in Chaos, for Lucifer, was not the fires but being torn from nature, creation, sunlight. The idea of being here with Balthazar seemed surreal after ages locked in the darkness. He stood for a minute, mesmerized by the sunny view out the window. The breath on his ear breaking the visual revelry with a start. He drew a ragged intake of breath.

Lucifer whispered back seductive, and assertive. "I am your king. I belong beside you in your bed."

Your was not, in his mind, meant as a political statement but one of belonging to. Lucifer accepted he was drowning in affection for this angel.

"Do we have to share the shower too?" His eyes drifted over Balthazar until he met his gaze. After their recent escapade he couldn't resist imagining Balthazar in the shower, locked in a heated kiss. "I hope we do."

[tryingitall]

Balthazar has, as yet, no idea of what he's been given, what concession has been made beyond simple pride and affection. He's certainly a safer angel to select as a consort than almost any other; there is absolutely nothing in him that hungers for power beyond what he needs to defend himself. Even that brief period where he traded in human souls was a preparation for defending himself against Raphael and his loyalists, and he was very careful with who he collected and what he did with them. He'd never have any interest in challenging Lucifer.

The thing about the Nexus is some days the windows face the sunrise, some days they face the sunset, and some days they face the rookery where the sky-whales raise their calves, or a mountainside covered with multicolored mushrooms, or a purple sky full of stars. Balthazar hasn't had this place long, but he doesn't own a television or a computer as of yet, because looking out the window is so rewarding he scarcely needs one.

He looks at Lucifer, blushing a little as his words sink in. Balthazar is nothing if not promiscuous, and something about the way the other angel speaks sounds like commitment. That's a little scary...while simultaneously being something he didn't know he craved.

A slow, soft smile spreads across his face, halfway between shy and sensual. "Of course we do," he says. "It saves water. It's terribly important to protect the environment."

[the_rebel_son]

That blush was going to be the death of him. Lucifer felt flighty again, anxious and nervous. He was starting to understand his feelings, sense that he was falling with the same catastrophic speed as his fall from Heaven, though hopefully with a more pleasant outcome.

Commitment was something Lucifer feared, not because of the act of devotion. He had been created with an infinite ability to commit to others.. to God, but the outcome for the object of his affection was often suffering. Watching death, curses, madness, and deafness befall those he loved with abandon caused worry. Maybe this would be outside the reach of his torturous Father.

Lucifer was taken, so charmed by Balthazar that he felt out of control. "It will keep your apartment from burning to the ground until I can fireproof it."

[tryingitall]

Falling doesn't have to be into a pit or a hole. Landing doesn't have to hurt, either. Not if there's someone soft waiting to catch you.

Balthazar laughs. "Here, now, I can do a little fireproofing, myself! Best if you look it over, I suppose, if you're going to be here anyway, but I'm generally considered one of the more proficient at magic in my garrison."

Still, Lucifer should probably check behind him, because the fire from his wings might be more than Balthazar planned for. Either way, lovemaking in the shower won't be too hard to talk the younger angel into. He threads his fingers through Lucifer's and tugs him toward the windows, pointing out the doors that open onto the terrace. There's a little table and chairs out there, and a couple empty scotch bottles that suggest this is where the angel does his drinking.

[the_rebel_son]

There was the pride again, he loved the angel's pride. Not a lot, just enough. "If it is insufficient I can teach you. I taught many of the angels how to use their strength."

Lucifer follows, looking out the doors for just a moment. He was going to say something playful about drinking on the terrace but when he looked at Balthazar the words were gone. He felt it, like when he looked upon Eve the first few times in the Garden, the internal mess that felt like the verge of tears and immense joy all at once. It reminded him of how dangerous this was, and how much he didn't care about the risk. His grip on the younger angel's hand tightened and his wing wrapped around his back.

"You should get something more comfortable so we can curl up together with our drinks." In his current state, the chairs just seemed too far apart, but maybe that was just the nagging in the back of his mind reminding him that he was going to have to leave sooner, rather than later.

[tryingitall]

"I had a lot of trouble finding my niche amongst the Host," Balthazar admits, though without any sorrow or bitterness. "I was awfully reluctant to fight when I was young. I didn't understand enmity at all. Everything just looked beautiful and perfect to me and I didn't understand why our Father would ever want us to hurt anything."

He misses being that innocent, actually. He pulls Lucifer's hand closer and kisses the back of his knuckles.

"So, I tried a lot of side-jobs. I was a combat medic for a while, almost got snapped up by the Rit Zien. I did a lot of research into Enochian spellcasting, and then later on into the various adaptations humans made. Promotions and demotions all over the place. I did a very good job guarding the armory, though, when I was assigned to it. All the other things I'd studied helped there."

"I really am one of the top ten or twenty magic scholars in the Host back home." Er...assuming the angels he remembers being better than him are still alive. He hopes so. He doesn't want to be distinguished at something merely because the rest of the competition died. In any case, any Lucifer in any world would still outrank him. He smiles fondly at the one next to him, not quite oblivious to the emotional turmoil, but convinced he'd only make it more awkward by acknowledging it.

"I'm open to more lessons, though. I'll have to figure out something to teach you in return."

"Something more comfortable? On the terrace? I suppose a porch swing of some sort could work...although we'd have to accommodate our wings somehow. Come, let me show you the kitchen and the bedroom. Do you like to eat at all? I barely stock anything, but if you make me a list I can change that."

[the_rebel_son]

Lucifer sympathized because he had been of a similar mindset in the beginning. "Once, I held no hatred, but it was my Father who taught me to feel bitterness, hostility, and wrath. He continues to enact those lessons whenever he can find means."

Lucifer smiled at the kiss to his hand and then laughed. "I have claim to the biggest demotion in all of creation."

He was back to mock his damnation because there wasn't much else to do. Had he not fallen this situation would be easier but then he might not be here at all if he still held the strictness of his own Heaven. If he still believed things should be forbidden.

"We do not have vessels." Lucifer commented while contemplating his own abilities. "How our skills manifest may be very different than your own."

He couldn't help but wonder how different and if an angel in a vessel could work the same way with thier own energy. It had been a long time since Lucifer had to learn anything substantial. A whole other universe was now available, even if he only learned about it through discussion. "I am sure you will find something to teach me in time."

Lucifer shrugged and prepared to be pulled through the apartment by his hand, not that he minded this at all. It had an endearing quality, the angel showing him around.

"I eat for pleasure." Only rare circumstances required food but he did enjoy eating. Gluttony was part if his repertoire. "When I have walked with mortals in the past I gained a fondness for cooking. I can manifest anything I choose, but I appreciate the delicate skills needed for preparing meals."

Lucifer could easily manifest food, but there was a subtle joy in using mundane tools to cook. Those feelings came through in how he spoke, cooking made Lucifer happy. Though the food he could prepare was not modern, he was a fantastic cook.

"Do you eat?" Not all angels in his own creation did but he imagined having a human body might require regular meals, like a human.

[tryingitall]

"Oof," Balthazar says in response to Lucifer's joke about his own damnation, smiling at him. He gets it. Sometimes you have to make light of something to keep yourself from crying about it. He kisses his cheek lightly as if to comfort, and then turns his attention to the kitchen.

There's a dedicated wine refrigerator set at a cool--but not too cool--temperature, and it's well-stocked. When Balthazar opens one of the cabinets, he reveals it's filled with various types of liquor. He appears to drink most of his meals, judging from the contents of the kitchen. "The soul in my vessel is asleep," he says. "But Aziraphale said something that made me think I ought to give him the option of taking charge of his body and looking around if he wants to. I might do that some time. His name is Levi. You know, just in case you come looking for me and run into him instead."

"I don't require food, or water, or even oxygen really. I eat and drink for pleasure, too. Which is why most of what I have in here--" he taps the larger fridge. "Is either cheesecake or taquitos. I do keep a few things around in case someone who needs food does visit me, though. And curiosities. I like noodles shaped like odd things, they're fun!"

Were Lucifer to check the other cabinets, he would find dinosaur pasta, Campbell's chicken-with-stars soup, and probably a few novelty pasta shapes of the sort that are really only appropriate at a bachelorette party.

[the_rebel_son]

"I imagine he would require warning." Lucifer smiled turning quickly to a mischievous grin. "It would be easy to forget myself."

Lucifer understood that Levi and Balthazar were two different persons but they were also both there, both necessary. It would be easy, Lucifer thought, to find affection for the human which allowed Balthazar to be here. The physical attraction would already be intense.

"I do not know if it has remained the same, but I learned to make cheesecake in ancient Greece. It was a popular food at weddings, Olympic games, most celebrations had it." It wouldn't take much convincing for Lucifer to make cheesecake for the angel. "I believe cheesecake made by the devil would be better than what you could acquire from humans."

He was offering to cook, and definitely flirting. Excessive drinking and desserts seemed like a good way to spend time.

[tryingitall]

Now that makes Balthazar break out laughing. "Oh! Oh, be gentle with him, he's been out of circulation for a while."

He's biased, of course, but he can't help but think it might be nice for Levi to go on a date and have some cuddles. Whether he'd warm up to Lucifer easily, Balthazar doesn't know offhand, but...well. The man certainly loves music, and he's lost a lover and been spurned by the society he lived in. They might even find common ground.

They can cross that bridge later, though.

"Ancient Greek cheesecake?" If he were a puppy, Balthazar's tail would be wagging. "I didn't realize it had been around so long. Oh, he's definitely interested. "I mostly just have Sara Lee and Cheesecake Factory in the freezer, but homemade is always better. Homemade by you..."

There's probably a bad pun in to be made about temptation or something of the kind, but he's too distracted and charmed by the thought of Lucifer making snacks for them to come up with it.

[the_rebel_son]

"I would never let harm come to him." The affection and protectiveness would definitely extend to the vessel no matter which was speaking to him.

Lucifer giggles quietly at the angel's reaction. Unfortunately, the fallen angel isn't one for puns, at least doesn't intentionally seek them out. "I cannot make modern foods. I have not walked here since 1827, but I will cook whatever you wish, including cheesecake. I know several distinct historical cheesecakes."

Lucifer was going to spoil this angel by default, but as the manifestation of the sins it was appropriate, and even more so as a tempter. However, he wasn't thinking of either of those particularly. After feeling the depth of Balthazar's loneliness this was Lucifer's instinct to try and heal that emptiness.. his hopefulness.

[tryingitall]

Warmth floods his Grace briefly at that declaration. Balthazar has more direct affection for his vessel than most angels of his kind do. It's complicated. To accomplish an order, you sometimes have to forget or ignore the fact that you're borrowing another living creature's body. You have to not care. But Balthazar doesn't follow orders any longer, and he cares.

Another angel caring about the human who's given him so much is reassuring.

"I can only make breakfast food and things out of boxes," he chuckles, "As long as the modern equipment isn't going to throw you for a loop, you have free reign in the kitchen as far as I'm concerned. It's an electric range, not gas."

This is beyond a fling; they're talking about playing house now, and Balthazar loves it. It's always best not to put all one's emotional eggs in the same basket, but it's hard not to get carried away in Lucifer's presence, too.

He leads him into a hallway, at the end of which is clearly a large bedroom, then pauses by a closed door, considers a moment, and nudges it open. It's probably meant to be a second bedroom, a small guestroom, but what's inside is actually an easel, some shelves, art books and scattered supplies ranging from charcoals to oil paints to watercolor cakes.

"I'm not actually any good," he says. "But Levi was a painter. I sort of feel obligated to try, since I took him out of circulation."

Pause. "No, that's a lie, actually. I just loved what he could do. I don't think creativity can be taught. But it doesn't hurt anything for me to make the attempt."

[the_rebel_son]

Lucifer looked at the equipment in the kitchen. "Gas stoves were new but, I think I can figure these out." He remembered clearly the last time he cooked and it brought a melancholy smile with the memories. "When I last cooked I was preparing a favorite meal for a dying man. I could not be here without pain after his death."

The next room he was shown was too appropriate for where his mind was currently. He leaned in close to Balthazar to look into the room and placed a kissed his temple. "What do you paint? Is it the same as your vessel's work?"

sorry for the tl;dr

[tryingitall]

He gives him a long, thoughtful look. Angels sometimes have sweet memories of their favored vessels in his own world, but that's few and far between. He does. He knows Raphael did, only because he showed him once, a long time ago.

He's not sure Raphael is that same angel at this point.

Anna had love for the humans she grew up with. The parents that were killed when she began to recover herself. Friends, probably, or more distant family. And Castiel has his regrets regarding the Novak family, as well as his love for the idiot boys who think he's their pet angel. And Balthazar has Levi Gilman.

But he can't think of anyone else who talked of humans with tenderness. Who would cook a meal for a dying human. Who would grieve for one. He says nothing, but his Grace reaches out, nudging against Lucifer like a shy cat looking for petting, giving comfort by giving trust.

"I'm nowhere near as good," he says of his painting, but enters the room and beckons the other angel after him. "I've got photorealism down, but there was soul in his art that I can't seem to match."

There are some very elegant sketches of architecture on a desk, and there's a painting of a spider in a web on the easel. The details are perfect; Balthazar doesn't have thousands of eyes only to lack in observational skills. They're not bad. Probably he's hypercritical, but there's not much of a statement behind any of his work aside from 'hey, check out this thing I saw!"

He reaches up and draws aside a curtain at one end of the room, which hangs over a collection of framed sketches--and a single painting--on the wall. "These are his. I kept them. Well, I kept the drawings. I bought the painting at auction."

They're very different. Messy, turbulent, active drawings that seem to spring from the page. Less accurate, but there's a lot of passion translated to the paper and the canvas. The three sketches he's got are very obviously angels. One is just a humanoid figure with wings, but the other two are more like an Ofanite's true form, wheels of eyes and flame.

Below them, the painting is of a black man half-sprawled in a chair, with a trumpet in his hands. He's laughing about something and the way the light is rendered on his form is impressionistic, but nothing short of tender.

Sometimes it is necessary

[the_rebel_son]

Lucifer hadn't shut himself down, his presence was still open when Balthazar reached out. Beautiful piano music, in multiple threads were running through Lucifer's essence, felt as much as heard. One stood out, louder and more vivid than the others. The notes were clear, the Moonlight Sonata. He was mourning Beethoven.

The fallen angel had loved Beethoven but not as a partner or even a friend. He looked at the composer like part of himself had somehow been fashioned into a human, a soulmate. Devotion twisted in the thread of music unlike any other Lucifer felt, it was unending. Raw pain still, might always, exist around this one human death.

The essence that leaned into Balthazar was sorrowful and full of joy, but seeking comfort for a wound that nothing could heal.

Lucifer followed into the room looking at the paintings, and provided they were not wet, touched them.

"I was told once 'An artist is someone who has learnt to trust themselves. The eyes of an artist see what God has written into the world, can interpret it so that other men can know God through the artist's work.'" His mind was still on the composer, those words were his, and though Lucifer had no love for God any longer he could still embrace the sentiment.

Lucifer joined Balthazar to look at his vessel's art. "Did he know of angels before you met him or are these impressions of you?"

He loved art, visual arts were not his usual interest, poetry and music were, but he can appreciate the visual. He notices the curtain and can't refrain from asking. "Why do you hide them here when they could be seen?"

It was a curious question. He didn't understand the dynamics between an angel and its vessel, but as far as Lucifer could imagine he would want to see them if they were from a mortal who let him live on Earth.

[tryingitall]

It must be worse, Balthazar thinks, to lose a mortal you know and love, and to be aware they're going where you cannot follow. If his vessel is ever destroyed beyond his ability to save, Levi will go to Heaven with the other Blessed Souls, and he'll be safe there, reliving the sweetest moments of his life for eternity. Balthazar won't be able to see him, though. Not unless Castiel's insane rebellion somehow succeeds.

His Grace curls around Lucifer in a brief flicker of light and affection; empathy for a pain he hasn't experienced yet but probably will some day.

"He was an atheist," he tells him with a little smirk. "Honestly, I don't think I cleared anything up for him. I had to speak to him to talk him into becoming my vessel for my mission, and he drew these while I was talking with him. Over the course of a few weeks. He never saw me physically, you know. Even a true vessel can't bear that without going blind. But he learned enough about me to do that." He points at what must be the later sketches, the ones of the spinning wheels of flame.

"I'm not trying to hide them, just trying to keep them safe," he says. "I have a few more paintings of his in my own world. I bought a gallery in Chicago. They're up there. But...well, these are the most important to me, and to him."

He nods at the painting. "That was his lover. Bartholomew Delaney. I never got to meet him; he'd died before I was sent to Earth. Levi was mourning him. Apparently the man was a musical prodigy. Never found an instrument he couldn't play."

[the_rebel_son]

Lucifer didn't think Beethoven was taken to heaven. After the deafness and madness under cries that God was inflicting it, he suspected his soul was locked away somewhere. Lucifer had searched for it, ocassionally. He had resolved to turn his soul into an angel, if the composer had wanted. That would be an affront to God, not that Lucifer would care.

He curled into the angel's presence like someone might climb into a lap to cry.

"Did he convert or remain an athiest?" Lucifer was genuinely curious about Balthazar's vessel.

Lucifer stared at the drawings making note that these were something he would work on, make indestructible, when he warded the place against fire at some point.

Sympathy was all he could feel for the vessel, and in this moment Lucifer was more susceptible to those feelings than usual. He knew what it was like to love that kind of beauty and lose it, though he suspected that old age and illness might not at play in this situation.

A few moments of silence passed before Lucifer turned, wrapped his arms around Balthazar and kissed him. So many things drove him to that kiss; passion, love, fear of loss, and the intimacy he attached to Balthazar sharing this artwork with him.