The Next Task (Potter/Constantine X-Over)
Title: The Next Task
Author: physixxx
Characters: Balthazar, John Constantine, Chaz
Pairing: John/Chaz
Warning: As blasphemous as Hellblazer, maybe more so. Mentions of Popes and blowjobs. Shota (Underaged-with-Of Aged)
Rating: Hard R; language, content, semi-descriptive sex
Authors Notes: This was just something I came up with for the shits of it... I don't know if I will ever continue it... I kinda dig Constantine's character, tho. And with the fact that his character is canonically bisexual, it's not such a far stretch to have him boning Harry... or Draco... or both... oooh, plot bunny!!!
Now beta'd by the wonderful diclaire!!! (:huggz:)
Balthazar watches as the two bodies writhe before him. Their sweaty arms cling to each other; their dirty nails scraping along flesh, tearing skin and pulling hair. The younger one’s leg wraps around the other’s waist as the distinctive sound of bodies slapping together reverberate against the walls. Soiled sheets have been long-since tossed aside and lay haphazard across the floor.
There is no shame to their actions, no regrets and certainly no remorse, at least, none for Constantine; despite the earth-shattering, silent crushing of yet another piece of John’s soul. Balthazar can hear it; he knows that Constantine can hear it, too. He knows, better yet, that despite John’s resolve, it is torturous every time it happens.
And that kind of torture is candy on the lips for a demon such as Balthazar.
John Constantine comes, hard. His frantic thrusts cease; every muscle in his back flexes and contorts, eventually shaking under the strain. The boy underneath him grabs hold of John’s arse, gripping for dear life.
In a sweaty heap - he falls atop the boy, whispering his name, “... Chaz ...” who instinctively begins to nuzzle close. They lay like this for a few minutes; Balthazar is, luckily, quite patient.
He waits, for he knows that John will tire of The Cuddle soon enough. Once he hears Chaz’s soft snoring, he’ll pry himself from his grasp and escape to the balcony of his London flat, in an attempt to clear his thoughts and grab a fag.
He finds Balthazar waiting for him, clapping.
“What do you want, Balthazar?” he asks, leaning against the ledge.
“My, my. You couldn’t restrain yourself, could you?” Balthazar leers, brushing imaginary dirt from his lapel, “Couldn’t resist taking the boy. Tell me, did you have to hypnotise him? Cast some spell?”
John lights the cigarette, takes a deep drag, holds it, and then exhales in a sibilant hiss, “He’s far from a boy, B.”
“Oh, I believe God - and the law - considers sixteen to be quite the ‘boy’.”
“Sod the law.” Another puff. “And sod your God.” Another exhale.
“Tsk tsk. The Devil had such plans for that boy. He was on his way to spiritual greatness. Now,” Balthazar glances to the sleeping boy, shakes his head and tuts, “he is besotted with your vile filth.”
“Well, then I guess I did him a favour with each then, eh? Besides,” John turns to look at the empty street below them, “since when do you care about the likes of him?”
Balthazar stands beside John, watching the same scene unfold before him, “Well, I don’t really. Fill him to his limit with your seed for all I - He - cares. But, just because you care little for your soul, must you drag down innocents? Really, what need have God for devils and demons when he has the likes of you living and breathing and corrupting?”
John laughs, smoke escaping from his mouth. He leers at the well-dressed demon beside him, “You telling me that God hates fags?”
Balthazar raises his hands, “I’m saying no such thing. But I’m sure He doesn’t appreciate you fucking the boy without loving him. Especially him,” he says, nodding to the boy still asleep on John’s bed, “Chaz was high on Satan’s ‘to-do’ list... that means he was in God’s good graces. Basically, you’ve fucked the equivalent of a saint.”
“Well, you can tell God and Satan that the Pope gives good fuckin’ head.”
Balthazar laughs, a booming bark that resonates like a thousand laughs at once.
“Oh, Constantine! You are delightfully sinful!”
It hasn’t even been two minutes, and already John is lighting his second fag. He takes another deep puff before exhaling. Balthazar inhales through closed teeth, making a delighted hissing sound.
“Between your wickedness corrupting your soul and your bad habits destroying your body, you are a demon’s salmagundi! It’s like Thanksgiving and Christmas all rolled into one dead-man-walking package.”
John lets out an exhaustive sigh, “I know how to banish you, Balthazar. You have five seconds to get to the point.”
“Fine, fine,” Balthazar says, leaning over the ledge and peering down at two lovers holding each other as they walk. “He’s cheating on you with your sister!” he yells at them, “and your brother!!”
The couple stops and look for the source of the yelling, a shocked look etched on her face, a guilty one on his.
“My brother is fifteen, you pervert,” the girl shouts, turning her (soon-to-be-ex) boyfriend around, slapping him and then jaunting off in a huff.
“Wait... Jessica...! Please, I can explain...!!”
Balthazar laughs another deafening cackle as he watches the offending man chase after his sobbing (soon-to-be-ex) girlfriend. He then turns to face John, with a calculating grin and narrowed eyes.
“You see? She doesn’t appreciate a grown man fucking a sixteen year-old-boy, either.”
“Two seconds...”
“Fine, fine!”
Balthazar’s expression turns deadly serious, as he conjures a throne-like chair from nothing.
“Planning on carving roast, B?”
“Eventually,” he answers with a knowing smile. “But enough of that. Remember that little... incident in Newcastle?”
How could he forget? Sorcerers attempting to fuck their way to power held a mystic orgy that included, amongst other things, the taking of little boys and girls. But one girl had both power to defend herself and will to use it. She conjured a demon of such innumerable power that its very breath had torn the flesh from her tormentors.
Although she had the power to conjure the beast, she didn’t have strength enough to cast it back to Hell; it simply refused to leave. John, with his typical recklessness, convinced a group of wizard allies to attempt to destroy the creature by summoning a demon of their own. Unfortunately, this demon was uncontrollable. Besides destroying the girl’s monster, it tormented John's friends then took the child to Hell, seemingly forever.
That moment has plagued John’s dreams, since.
“What of it?” he asks, shrugging off the memory as if it meant nothing.
“Well, let’s just say that ritual is becoming quite en vogue again.”
John’s expression became hard. “I’ll deal with it,” he says, tossing the bud to the street below.
“Oh, no. This is no ordinary demon, John,” Balthazar says, his smile sliding from his face like hot butter from bread. “This demon was once a man.”
“A man?”
“Quite. Banished from this world - or, more aptly put... vanquished. Satan, Himself, had offered him the opportunity to serve. You see, he already had quite the following in this plane of existence. And, as you know, to be worshipped is to have power. You’ll need help for-”
“I won’t work with Hunter, again,” John says, eyes both bulged and narrowed.
“No, no,” Balthazar says with a dismissive wave of the hand. “No, you’ll need the one who vanquished him to begin with...
... Harry Potter!”
•~Š~•
Author: physixxx
Characters: Balthazar, John Constantine, Chaz
Pairing: John/Chaz
Warning: As blasphemous as Hellblazer, maybe more so. Mentions of Popes and blowjobs. Shota (Underaged-with-Of Aged)
Rating: Hard R; language, content, semi-descriptive sex
Authors Notes: This was just something I came up with for the shits of it... I don't know if I will ever continue it... I kinda dig Constantine's character, tho. And with the fact that his character is canonically bisexual, it's not such a far stretch to have him boning Harry... or Draco... or both... oooh, plot bunny!!!
Now beta'd by the wonderful diclaire!!! (:huggz:)
Balthazar watches as the two bodies writhe before him. Their sweaty arms cling to each other; their dirty nails scraping along flesh, tearing skin and pulling hair. The younger one’s leg wraps around the other’s waist as the distinctive sound of bodies slapping together reverberate against the walls. Soiled sheets have been long-since tossed aside and lay haphazard across the floor.
There is no shame to their actions, no regrets and certainly no remorse, at least, none for Constantine; despite the earth-shattering, silent crushing of yet another piece of John’s soul. Balthazar can hear it; he knows that Constantine can hear it, too. He knows, better yet, that despite John’s resolve, it is torturous every time it happens.
And that kind of torture is candy on the lips for a demon such as Balthazar.
John Constantine comes, hard. His frantic thrusts cease; every muscle in his back flexes and contorts, eventually shaking under the strain. The boy underneath him grabs hold of John’s arse, gripping for dear life.
In a sweaty heap - he falls atop the boy, whispering his name, “... Chaz ...” who instinctively begins to nuzzle close. They lay like this for a few minutes; Balthazar is, luckily, quite patient.
He waits, for he knows that John will tire of The Cuddle soon enough. Once he hears Chaz’s soft snoring, he’ll pry himself from his grasp and escape to the balcony of his London flat, in an attempt to clear his thoughts and grab a fag.
He finds Balthazar waiting for him, clapping.
“What do you want, Balthazar?” he asks, leaning against the ledge.
“My, my. You couldn’t restrain yourself, could you?” Balthazar leers, brushing imaginary dirt from his lapel, “Couldn’t resist taking the boy. Tell me, did you have to hypnotise him? Cast some spell?”
John lights the cigarette, takes a deep drag, holds it, and then exhales in a sibilant hiss, “He’s far from a boy, B.”
“Oh, I believe God - and the law - considers sixteen to be quite the ‘boy’.”
“Sod the law.” Another puff. “And sod your God.” Another exhale.
“Tsk tsk. The Devil had such plans for that boy. He was on his way to spiritual greatness. Now,” Balthazar glances to the sleeping boy, shakes his head and tuts, “he is besotted with your vile filth.”
“Well, then I guess I did him a favour with each then, eh? Besides,” John turns to look at the empty street below them, “since when do you care about the likes of him?”
Balthazar stands beside John, watching the same scene unfold before him, “Well, I don’t really. Fill him to his limit with your seed for all I - He - cares. But, just because you care little for your soul, must you drag down innocents? Really, what need have God for devils and demons when he has the likes of you living and breathing and corrupting?”
John laughs, smoke escaping from his mouth. He leers at the well-dressed demon beside him, “You telling me that God hates fags?”
Balthazar raises his hands, “I’m saying no such thing. But I’m sure He doesn’t appreciate you fucking the boy without loving him. Especially him,” he says, nodding to the boy still asleep on John’s bed, “Chaz was high on Satan’s ‘to-do’ list... that means he was in God’s good graces. Basically, you’ve fucked the equivalent of a saint.”
“Well, you can tell God and Satan that the Pope gives good fuckin’ head.”
Balthazar laughs, a booming bark that resonates like a thousand laughs at once.
“Oh, Constantine! You are delightfully sinful!”
It hasn’t even been two minutes, and already John is lighting his second fag. He takes another deep puff before exhaling. Balthazar inhales through closed teeth, making a delighted hissing sound.
“Between your wickedness corrupting your soul and your bad habits destroying your body, you are a demon’s salmagundi! It’s like Thanksgiving and Christmas all rolled into one dead-man-walking package.”
John lets out an exhaustive sigh, “I know how to banish you, Balthazar. You have five seconds to get to the point.”
“Fine, fine,” Balthazar says, leaning over the ledge and peering down at two lovers holding each other as they walk. “He’s cheating on you with your sister!” he yells at them, “and your brother!!”
The couple stops and look for the source of the yelling, a shocked look etched on her face, a guilty one on his.
“My brother is fifteen, you pervert,” the girl shouts, turning her (soon-to-be-ex) boyfriend around, slapping him and then jaunting off in a huff.
“Wait... Jessica...! Please, I can explain...!!”
Balthazar laughs another deafening cackle as he watches the offending man chase after his sobbing (soon-to-be-ex) girlfriend. He then turns to face John, with a calculating grin and narrowed eyes.
“You see? She doesn’t appreciate a grown man fucking a sixteen year-old-boy, either.”
“Two seconds...”
“Fine, fine!”
Balthazar’s expression turns deadly serious, as he conjures a throne-like chair from nothing.
“Planning on carving roast, B?”
“Eventually,” he answers with a knowing smile. “But enough of that. Remember that little... incident in Newcastle?”
How could he forget? Sorcerers attempting to fuck their way to power held a mystic orgy that included, amongst other things, the taking of little boys and girls. But one girl had both power to defend herself and will to use it. She conjured a demon of such innumerable power that its very breath had torn the flesh from her tormentors.
Although she had the power to conjure the beast, she didn’t have strength enough to cast it back to Hell; it simply refused to leave. John, with his typical recklessness, convinced a group of wizard allies to attempt to destroy the creature by summoning a demon of their own. Unfortunately, this demon was uncontrollable. Besides destroying the girl’s monster, it tormented John's friends then took the child to Hell, seemingly forever.
That moment has plagued John’s dreams, since.
“What of it?” he asks, shrugging off the memory as if it meant nothing.
“Well, let’s just say that ritual is becoming quite en vogue again.”
John’s expression became hard. “I’ll deal with it,” he says, tossing the bud to the street below.
“Oh, no. This is no ordinary demon, John,” Balthazar says, his smile sliding from his face like hot butter from bread. “This demon was once a man.”
“A man?”
“Quite. Banished from this world - or, more aptly put... vanquished. Satan, Himself, had offered him the opportunity to serve. You see, he already had quite the following in this plane of existence. And, as you know, to be worshipped is to have power. You’ll need help for-”
“I won’t work with Hunter, again,” John says, eyes both bulged and narrowed.
“No, no,” Balthazar says with a dismissive wave of the hand. “No, you’ll need the one who vanquished him to begin with...
... Harry Potter!”
•~Š~•