 |
|
|
|
|
Author: Guede Mazaka
Title: Grave Measures Extra: Expedient Measures
Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: John/Balthazar(/Gabriel)
Feedback: Nice lines, typos, etc.
Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me and no profit except the intangible is intended to rise from this.
Notes: Crossover with Van Helsing.
Summary: Gabriel’s not the only one with serious issues.
***
Balthazar sat up with a gasp, staring wildly around the room. But all he saw were shadowy dents in the walls, clutter spilling off of shelves, John restlessly moving besides him…no great walls of ice, no gigantic fanged mouth. He took in a deep breath and slowly lowered his knees back to the bed.
John suddenly froze, then turned over and looked at Balthazar. His hand was shaking, but he pressed it flat against the bed as soon as he saw that Balthazar had noticed. “Where the hell is he? Antarctica?”
Now that Balthazar had had a moment to compose himself, he thought upper Russia was more likely, but he didn’t share that with John. He tried a few tentative casts, but received no response. The sensible course of action after that would have been to get up, get dressed and take out his seething frustration on his idiot associates, who’d had not only had the gall to vault onto his company board seat when they’d thought he was dead, but had also nearly run it into the red. And Balthazar was fully intending to pursue the sensible course of action. Once he’d convinced his body that no, those hadn’t been his sensations and he was not incredibly cold. He wasn’t.
He was still shivering, damn it.
“What the…” Something touched Balthazar’s arm, then yanked him down by it when he tried to elbow it away. John squirmed over him and had teeth in his neck before Balthazar could throw him off. “Christ, between you and him I’m never going to get any sleep.”
“Why, Johnny, I didn’t realize you were so delicate,” Balthazar hissed. He got one arm under them and pushed, but that only made John bite harder. Balthazar’s head automatically went back and, much though he tried to fight it, he started to go limp.
Then John let up and leaned back, looking thoughtfully down at Balthazar. His fingers were working on Balthazar’s shoulders, convulsively squeezing and kneading. “Fuck,” he muttered.
“There’s an idea,” Balthazar said. He was teasing, but John took him seriously. And after a moment of moaning into John’s hungry mouth, Balthazar decided it might have been to his advantage. It was warming him, anyway. For now.
***