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Everything Zen	By : KCBailey Category: 1 through F > Constantine Views: 2404 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Constantine/Hellblazer does not belong to me and this is a work of fanfiction created purely for entertainment purposes. I am making no profit from this.

Chapter List
- 1-Everything Zen
- 1
Note: Dunno why I decided to call it
that, other than that the song rocks. Johnny POV. In character? Er...
no.

Everything Zen

This is odd. Strange. Stranger than my
life usually is, which is pretty strange considering my lover is a
demon and I know the devil on a first-name basis.

Balthazar is trying to make a cup of
tea. Unfortunately he's not managing very well. He keeps pausing, not
quite sure where things are for a few moments before he remembers.
Every now and then he'll pick something up from the kitchen – a
spoon, at the moment – and look at it like he has no idea what
it's for.

The problem is, I can't take him to a
hospital. I can guarantee they'll notice the fact that he has a tail,
a forked tongue and his eyes glow. And that's only a slice of the
weirdness. I shouldn't be worried, he's a demon. Whatever screw got
knocked loose in his head today will heal, and I know it, but I'm
still worried. It's weird admitting it, but I do care about him and I
hate seeing him suffering.

It started this afternoon, some
regular, boring exorcism that anyone with a bible and half a brain
could have handled. Still, it was a slow day. Time to kill, so I
headed over to the shitty little dive I'd been called to and picked
Balthazar up on the way. He was looking smug, some company takeover
or something. Business as usual.

We go in, work our magic, leave. All
goes smoothly. Everything is nice and we're heading back to my place,
bickering as usual, getting all worked up for something much better
than a fight. That is, until we drive past an alley and there's a
fucking huge, glowing pentagram on the back wall, couple of
halfbreeds hanging around it trying to bring something through. We
stop, because I like to try and do the right thing and Balthazar
likes any excuse to kill something and piss people off. It's one of
his many charms. A lot of the others involve things he can do with
his tail.

So, we kick ass, stop whatever the hell
it was they were trying to bring through, kill them both. I'm
breaking up the big symbol on the wall when I hear this crack from
behind me and turn, and Balthazar is on the floor, out cold, with
some guy standing over him holding a two by four. The guy looks
wired, like he's had too much coffee or crack or whatever the hell
he's on. He's a halfbreed, and he has his tail out, swinging back and
forth in this twitchy way, and if you live in LA you just know
to stay away from the ones like him. They usually have knives.

However, I'm so
shocked to see Balthazar on the floor that I don't give the
crackhead-looking halfbreed a chance to go for any new weaponry. I
just rack the holy shotgun up and shoot him in the chest, and he hits
the other wall of the alley, looks down in shock, and disintegrates.
I scramble over to Balthazar.

Turning him over, I
see blood smeared across his forehead. He has a gash above one
eyebrow, and his eyes are closed. He has this look of pain on his
face and I wish I hadn't killed that halfbreed so fast. Should have
tortured him a LOT more.

Anyway, I got him
into the car and got him home, with him waking up halfway. He didn't
say anything, which worried me even more. It's usually hard work just
to get him to shut up.

He had
this glazed look in his eyes while I was patching him up. The cut
wasn't as bad as I'd thought, three little sutures had it dealt with
after his shower, which I had to help him with. He snapped out of it
a little after that and decided he wanted a cup of tea, I guess being
British is the same even if you are
also from Hell.

He wouldn't have me
do it for him, because I can only make two drinks. Those are bad
coffee and scotch. I don't so much make the scotch as pour it into a
glass. Either way, when I make him tea he makes faces at me, so he
decided to do it himself. He's been at it ten minutes and he's just
now managing to pour the water into the mug. His hand is shaking and
when he almost splashes boiling water all over the other hand, which
is holding the mug still, I come up behind him, wrap my arms around
his waist and guide his hands.

“Need a
cuddle, Johnny?” He asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Keeping
you from further injury.” I tell him, lips against his neck. I
can never help wanting to touch him, kiss him, taste him. He's just
that fuckable. His
skin is always ridiculously, feverishly hot, too.

“I'm
fine, Johnny.”
He reminds me yet again, stirring his tea absently as I go to work on
his throat. He has a sensitive neck.

“You're
shaking. You spent a full two minutes staring at a spoon.” I
point out, holding him as he sips at his tea, elegant but still
trembling a little.

“Maybe I just
liked it.” He smirks, placing his cup down to one side as I
turn him around in my arms and look at him, checking his eyes for
that glazed look. It's mostly gone now and he stares back, cocking an
eyebrow.

“Up.” I
say, and for once he does as I say without bitching. He places his
hands on the counter and moves to sit up on it, opening his legs so I
can move forward, against him. Leaning back comfortably against the
cabinets behind him, he picks up his mug again and gets back to
drinking his tea, watching me run my eyes over every inch of him.

We stay like that
for a little while, him finishing his drink while I run my hands over
him, just enjoying how warm he always is. There's nothing like being
with a demon, no matter what angels say.

When he finally
places his empty mug into the sink to one side of us, I pull him down
for a long, slow kiss. He purrs and I slide my hands up his chest
over the shirt he's wearing. One of mine, a little too big for him.

“Mmh,
Johnny... Just-just there...” He mumbles against my lips when I
slide a hand around to his back, down to the base of his tail. I run
my fingers around it, feeling the place where it joins his body. He
shudders against me and I do it again, kisses moving along his jaw.
He has a little stubble and his hair is ruffled, he looks delicious.
Not that he doesn't look just
as edible when he's wearing one of his ridiculously expensive suits,
hair slicked back, oozing arrogance.

I love his tail.
It's black, covered in tiny scales like snakeskin, and it has a
spade-shaped tip that's so sensitive that I can get him off just by
playing with it. Where his tail joins his body the scales fade off
into little patterns, and pressing up just beneath it makes him arch
up, just like...yeah, just like that.

I want to just fuck
him over the kitchen counter, but I'm not going to. Not after what
happened to him today.

I'm glad of my
choice when I look up and see that he has his head turned to one side
against the cabinets, a soft look of almost-pain on his face even
with the light flush of arousal. He notices that I've stopped
touching him and opens his eyes, looking down at me and trying not to
let on that he's still not quite recovered.

“Come on,
let's watch a movie or something.” I suggest, hands on his
hips, helping him down. He sways slightly in the circle of my arms
and I pull him closer, running my thumb gently over his eyebrow just
below the cut, which is healing already.

“I'm fine,
Johnny, we can still-” I cut him off with a kiss.

“Tell me the
truth. You're too pretty to be macho, stop trying.” I smirk,
kissing his jaw again and drawing back to look at him. He gives me a
slight glare about the 'pretty' comment, but he knows it's true and
doesn't bother to press it. Instead he sighs softly and presses in
close, leaning his head tiredly on my shoulder.

“I'm just a
little dizzy. It's nothing to get worked up over.” He says,
breath soft against me. I turn my head to kiss his hair, enjoying the
warm, charcoal scent of him for a long moment.

“How about an
early night, then?” I murmur against his hair, feeling the
shiver that runs through him as my breath tickles his ear.

“Mmh...”
He makes a pleased noise, drawing back a little and taking my arm,
heading slowly for the bedroom. “I like that. Come coddle me,
Johnny.”

I follow, grinning.
The tiny romantic streak that I usually try to ignore is looking
forward to just holding him all night, maybe even fussing over him a
little. It's almost as good as having sex and passing out, which is
what we do a lot of the time. There's something about it, some
domestic bliss-type thing, that makes me smile. He seems to be
feeling it too, because he smiles as well and fits against me on the
bed like he was moulded for it.

Later, much later,
he's finally fallen asleep and I'm looking at him curled against me,
lit by the glow of a street-light, stroking his hair. There's a word
for this, and it's just on the tip of my tongue. Balthazar is smiling
in his sleep, looking more beautiful than an angel.

Pretty sure that
word begins with 'L'.

END

Mush, fluff,
couldn't resist it.
- 1
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Everything Zen