Castiel dumped him.

It's not the first time someone's broken up with Balthazar, and it sure as hell won't be the last. He's an artist and he believes in free love, which usually means that he loves whoever the fuck he wants to love. Love meaning to have sex with, naturally. He would never dare use that word for its other meaning. It's rather drab. Balthazar paints the world ad makes it beautiful, makes it into a place worth living in, and some people don't understand that. They call him cruel and critical; one even claimed that he's a Satanist. That uninformed woman was humiliated in front of the entire campus thanks to that ridiculous statement of hers.

But Castiel was different. It was Balthazar's first time meeting a theologist who didn't criticize his paintings for their inaccuracy. He never once mentioned it. The fact that Lucifer and Michael were quite literally slow dancing together with grabby hands never even got a reaction out of him. Castiel Novak, the strangest man Balthazar has ever met, and the only one to ever make him actually date before sex. It seems like something that everyone has done at one point or another, but he never had to pursue anyone. So the very idea of him having date Castiel for months without sleeping with him… was ridiculous.

The fact that they even met was purely accidental. Castiel had spilled his coffee all over a gag piece Balthazar had made as a gift to the school. It had a painting of the hawk that the stupid college used as it's mascot but there were little pictures and words hidden throughout it that mocked the school for everything. It mocked the staff, food, courses, students, mascot, biases, beliefs, and it's very foundations. And it was ruined by a Styrofoam cup holding some incredibly hot coffee that led to Balthazar cursing like a sailor and accidentally whacking the idiot over the head with his painting.

"My apologies, I am Castiel and I'm very sorry for my mistake." That's when Balthazar's eyes met blue and he knew that very moment that he's become smitten.

"Oh its fine, this thing was a piece of well-crafted rubbish anyway." Balthazar smirked and shrugged his shoulders but Castiel glared at him, as though infuriated by the way he shrugged off the accident.

"No it's not. That piece is beautiful and I've destroyed it." So apparently he's overdramatic… just a tad, or perhaps it's just the way he words things regularly.

"If you want to make it up to me… perhaps you should come with me to my dorm room." Balthazar smiled slyly and held out his hand. To his surprise Castiel actually took it, his tan overcoat covering his hand halfway.

The idea of sleeping with someone who wears an overcoat and suit that don't match and looks completely disheveled (as though he's already had sex, twice) doesn't bother him for some reason. It's like he's found a stray puppy. Of course it's a puppy he wants to do incredibly naughty things to, but a puppy nonetheless. He's going to hell for the puppy analogy, but considering he belongs in hell for much worse… that doesn't actually bother him. Instead of thinking too much about it, he showed Castiel his art pieces that were up on display at the art center on campus. He also introduced Castiel to Crowley, Balthazar's best friend and the biggest dick you could ever meet other than Balthazar's last boyfriend Raphael. He has a habit of collecting dicks, probably should have told his mother ten years ago rather than three months into college. It might have spared her poor gold digging heart. Or she might have tried to get his help with a few gay men she tried to acquire. He told Castiel about this but instead of earning a laugh it just made him frown and stare at Balthazar with a sad expression on his face, as though he pitied him.

He didn't allow that to go on though, and instead opted for a distraction, and the best distraction in the world is sex. He has learned this from years of experience and Castiel should enjoy spending some time with an artist, especially because artists tend to get creative with their equipment…

They didn't wind up having sex, because Castiel has a built in chastity belt that's name is Castiel's Personality. If he didn't have such a flaw then they would have shacked up beautifully. Well that's what Balthazar imagined anyway.

Balthazar has never been the type to spend much time thinking about others. He rarely even thinks about his own mother, the bitch that birthed him, for which he is eternally grateful, but honestly he doesn't give a damn. She's a bit of a wench anyway, always trying to find out how his life is going. The woman is mad, absolutely mad, and constantly trying to have flings with rich married men. The fact that they're almost always successful only proves that she knows what she's doing, it's still terrible.

But thanks to his mother, Balthazar learned from the best.

Castiel was pissed when he told him that. He hated that Balthazar considers himself to be a whore, someone who uses others for their body, money, or status. He uses people but they all know it. He tells them and then… and then he uses each and every one of them. Jo didn't deserve to be used, nor did Gabriel, but that doesn't matter now. Raphael and Zachariah were just toys to be played with and pitted against each other, and now… now he's lost Castiel.

It's to be expected. This was the first time he didn't actually use someone. Castiel was just… his; his to do with as he pleased, but not anymore. It's all because Castiel left him. He's not going to drown in some Celine Dion song or chocolate ice cream. No, if anything he's going to go off and have lots of sex and forget that pretty white ass of that always virgin. It doesn't matter how many times Castiel has sex; he'll always be a little virgin to Balthazar.

He looked at the blank canvas in front of him and then threw his favorite paint brush to the ground. The room is covered in splattered paint, just the sort of room that Gabriel would love, but Balthazar hates it. He closed his eyes and shook his head, laughing to himself because he fucked up. That's the simplest way to put it.

But Castiel isn't some angel. He makes mistakes too. For a good half of their relationship, Castiel was in love with Dean Winchester, a mechanic that has nothing going for him, whatsoever. Sometimes… Balthazar would help give Castiel advice on how to get closer to the dumbass, but that was on a rare occasion. Most of the time he was sober when that happened but would soon after get piss drunk and Castiel would have to take care of him. They both hated those nights. But it wasn't Balthazar's fault that Castiel's a little bitch who falls for the fallen.

It's sweet and a bit ironic, but he's daddy issues personified after all.

He moved around the room looking at the different color paints until he found the blue… he only has one tube of blue that matches Castiel's eyes. Grabbing the tube he opened up the window and threw it outside. It's childish, but who the fuck cares? If anyone finds it then they get a free tube of thirty dollar paint. The best he could find in this town. College towns are only good for bars and libraries.

Balthazar moved into the kitchen and got himself a glass of scotch. It tastes like piss, no good liquor stores in the area sadly, and he doesn't particularly want to drive thirty minutes to an hour just to get decent scotch. It's not worth it. Just like how a lot of things aren't worth it, apparently. He downed the scotch then poured another before turning back to the living room, the place where he paints all of his glorious pieces of shit. He always knew he should have stuck with acting and stopped with the ridiculous idea of being a painter. All it does is make him look at the color blue.

He looked at the canvas, it's ten by ten feet, and he's beginning to want to paint… grabbing a palette he put three shades of purple and two shades of blue and began to cover the entire canvas. This is the first time in a long time he's ever painted without knowing what the hell it's going to come out like. It's strange, something that true artists do all the time but Balthazar never considered himself to be one. He's an artist because it's easier to get laid that way, being an actor involves drama, being an artist means sex and seclusion.

He worked for almost half an hour before realizing that there's no music, he's just working in silence. Castiel may be able to do that but Balthazar needs things to distract him, to keep him from noticing the world around him. In a matter of seconds the song 'Dancing with Myself' by Billy Idol was playing. He hummed along and danced a bit as he continued to paint a series of purple and blue swirls on the canvas. The entire thing will be covered in these colors and then… then he'll truly begin. Balthazar has a habit of getting the background done first and then he'll paint over it. This helps give the painting a slightly more 3D feel, something he doesn't really care about but his favorite teacher pointed out. She was a monster in bed but he thoroughly enjoyed her for three weeks before having to stop because her fiancé got back in town.

He stopped after he covered the entire thing, and then used one of his finer brushes to help increase the amount of blue in the edges of the purple waves. He doesn't usually toy around with this stuff, he's more of a life-like painter than something more fantastic, but it's done and he wants to do more. Relaxing onto his couch, it'll take an hour or so for everything to dry which means he should order some Thai food while he waits.

When Balthazar first asked out Castiel… it was to go out for Thai.

"Cas, do you want to go out for some Thai or Chinese, later?" Balthazar asked, sighing over his canvas. He hates painting for assignments, they always come out like little bags of shit and he's supposed to turn them in with his name on it. As if it wasn't bad enough that he had to make it, but now he has to claim it too?!

"You have to finish the assignment. And I don't like Chinese." Castiel informed him dryly over his history homework. It's some biblical history nonsense, nothing anyone needs to think about but Castiel adores the stuff. It makes no sense but Balthazar isn't about to question it.

"If I keep working it'll just ruin the painting." He pointed out dryly then blinked in surprise when Castiel stood up and grabbed his coat. "What are you doing?"

"I'm taking you out for Thai… that is what you wanted isn't it?" His blue eyes were shining, both curious and nervous at the same time. Could Balthazar ignore such a face? Of course not, especially if he wants Cas's ass.

"Sounds like a date." He grinned but that just made Castiel pause.

"So we're dating now?"

Well that's not exactly what he meant but he'll take it. Balthazar nodded then took hold of Castiel's arm and walked him outside the dorm, ignoring the stupid painting of a redhead angel in a mental hospital drawing a picture of home. It's dull with no flair to it at all, but while they were eating, Castiel asked if he could have it. Balthazar doesn't give away his paintings. He sells them to museums, art shows, and rich billionaires who don't have the faintest idea what they just bought. But that doesn't matter to him. As long as he never gives them away to a single person who asks for them then it's fine.

"Sure, consider it yours, angel." He smiles easily and took a bite of his rice. Castiel's lips formed a half smile as he took a sip of his water.

"Thank you, I sincerely appreciate it." Of course he does, that's just the sort of person he is. It's amusing, but not the sort of thing Balthazar's used to.

"Just don't jack off to that angel's lovely face."

Castiel's eyes widened in horror as Balthazar laughed his ass off. He should keep him around for a while, just for a little bit, until Balthazar gets bored.

The chopsticks are what make the food spicy, according to Balthazar but Castiel claims that's not possible. He's a bit new when it comes to food though. Castiel was never all that adventurous. Balthazar got him to try so much, too much, just attempting to change that. So it was a bit ironic how much Dean enjoyed how willing Castiel became when it came to trying new things, but that was something that Balthazar forced him into. If it wasn't for him then Cas would never be so eager to test his boundaries.

He took a large bite and closed his eyes, allowing the spices to burn through his tongue before having another and another and another and then finally finishing it off. He played the cd Hot Fuss by the Killers and tested his painting to see if the background has dried, it's just about but not quite. Which is absolutely perfect on the one day where he literally has no plans whatsoever, he's already wasted four hours on the background of this picture.

His cell phone started ringing then which would usually be a joy, something he loves because it usually means he'll be getting laid soon but he knows who would be calling him right now. It's going to be either Castiel or the best friend he never should have bothered having. Friends are worthless, lovers are cruel, and in the end everyone falls to pieces trying to understand why. Balthazar doesn't have the answers; he's never had them and never will. That's okay.

He grabbed his phone and glanced at the caller. It's Crowley. That son of a bitch is calling him. Castiel was making moon eyes at Dean and then as soon as they break up he goes and fucks Crowley! Now they're together or some other such nonsense and it's ridiculous. It's absolutely ridiculous. But then again, Balthazar taught him that too. Sometimes it's okay to reach outside of your comfort zone if you think it can make you feel good. Apparently Castiel took it to heart.

Balthazar ignored the call then checked his painting again. It's dry enough. Grabbing the best black and white paint he has, he walked over to the painting and debated throwing the paint onto the canvas, ruining his hours of work. It would definitely be dramatic, but he's not a fan of wasting his time.

He's already wasted enough.

"You're so different from the others." Castiel murmured as he looked at the pieces of art Balthazar has on display at the local art show. They're here because Balthazar has to be. Because his art made it into the show, he has to show up or he won't get credit for the assignment. He's pretty sure the rule was made because of artists just like him who would prefer not to, people who can't stand these events.

"Whatever do you mean?" He teased but Castiel looks so serious. It's as though he wants Balthazar to take this seriously as well.

"Your art has more life and is much more interesting. The same way you are in comparison to them." Castiel said making a couple artists glance over. Balthazar didn't know how to respond to that. So he didn't. Instead he changed the subject onto something that he's much more comfortable with.

"I want to have sex." He whispered making Castiel's eyes widen but he just nodded his head like a good little boy.

"It's been six months." Castiel pointed out which is true. They've gone out for six months, Castiel watching Balthazar's artwork grow more and more popular while he noticed how much deeper and deeper Castiel digs himself into the world of religion. They've both moved so far in their lives and they've had so many chances to screw it all and just fuck but they never did. Of course Balthazar usually bangs someone on their first night together but Castiel is different. He'll always be different.

"So does that mean yes..?" Balthazar asked hopefully making Castiel laugh and nod, looking beautiful under the dim lights of the art hall. It's moments like this where Balthazar wants to capture it. He wants to freeze time and paint Castiel and allow the world to see the beauty that is his and his alone. But he can't do that and it'd be sappy and ridiculous anyway. So instead he just grabbed hold of Castiel's arm and walked him out of the art hall, happy that he doesn't even need a picture. He can make Castiel smile and laugh whenever he wants.

Balthazar kind of liked that.

He began to paint eyes, the different shapes and appearance of the eyes he's grown so used to, the ones that have ruined him completely without an ounce of guilt. That's a lie but it sounds so much more dramatic that way. He'll just be painting eyes all over the canvas, just Castiel's, Dean's, Crowley's, and his own eyes… but the eyes from a picture of him as a child. Painting Balthazar's eyes as they are now would do nothing for the painting.

There will be eight eyes in total, so four pairs, and they won't be together either, they'll be spread out across the canvas and all different shapes and sizes, but of course Balthazar's will be the largest and they'll actually be together. So yes, this painting will look fairly disturbing. But Balthazar is kind of looking forward to that.

He started with Dean's eyes. He has a picture of him, something that he took while hanging around the mechanic's place of work waiting to see if Castiel would get the guts to ask him out. The fact that Castiel and Balthazar were in a relationship at the time didn't matter to either of them. It's a good shot though. Dean is doing the fish lips he loves so much, and he's looking in the window of a car as though his reflection will hold all the answers. He looks like a man that can be taken seriously.

It's a good shot, especially with the eyes, so Balthazar held the picture on an easel and worked hard on outlining the shape of it in pencil very lightly off towards the right hand corner of the painting. The sketch itself took thirty minutes to make sure he has the left eye finished to the best of his ability. He'll sketch all of the eyes then go back in to paint them. The painting of the eyes will probably take hours but he'll just outline the other ideas he has as well before finally sitting down and painting everything in. After the eyes then he'll draw the smiles of everyone. Eyes scattered and mismatched smiles at different angles and nothing even remotely together or organized… this painting will be horrific. But that's fine. He can do with some horror right now and it might just be the first painting he ever makes that Castiel will hate.

He'll call it The Angel of Thursday. That will get his attention and maybe make him overanalyze the piece, but Balthazar won't sell it, or let the guy have it. This will be his and his alone. He refuses to share it unless for an exhibit or just to show it off randomly. This will be one of the few pieces he's made that has a brief glimpse of his soul. That's too precious to give up, even though he's given it up for less. But this is something he's created with the shattered remains of himself. So in the end, that makes it beautiful, and unworthy of anyone else, or maybe everyone else it too worthy.

It doesn't matter. Because this piece is the most honest he's been with himself in several years. Taking in a deep breath he began to work on Crowley's eyes, pulling out a picture he had stolen from Castiel's apartment after he'd found out. It was ridiculous, finding out two days after their breakup that he's banging Crowley now. Of course he didn't find out something so crass but Crowley was all over him by then.

But their relationship was technically open so Castiel could do whatever the hell he wanted to. Sleeping with Crowley, being with him even though he spent months mooning after Dean Winchester, fine, fuck it, that's fine. Balthazar doesn't exactly have the moral high ground anyway. He never once slept or was with anyone else during their relationship but he did so many terrible things to so many people, its well within karma's rights to do this to him.

Hell, Balthazar would do this to himself if he could.

Once, Balthazar stood up Castiel just to see what would happen. He wanted to know the reaction Castiel would have if Balthazar never showed up on their date. It was stupid. But he did it anyway. It was going to be their first outing in the snow. Balthazar had called Crowley and told him about his plans. They both laughed about it and called each other terrible names, all in good fun.

But as Balthazar watched Castiel show up early like usual and sit down on a bench and wait… of course Balthazar was almost immediately overcome with the desire to screw the ridiculous plan and join his lover for a day in the snow. He wanted to have fun with Cas, and just spend a day together being complete saps. But instead he stayed in the shadows like a dick, watching Castiel wait. Once an hour had passed, Balthazar was beginning to get bored. If it was him he would only have waited five minutes then left, but apparently he never gave Castiel the credit he deserved.

Before he could leave though, Crowley showed up and wound up sitting down and chatting with Cas. Well that certainly adds an interesting twist to things. Crowley and Balthazar are the best of friends but hold absolutely no loyalty to each other. Everything is about gain and loss, what they can get away with and what they need help for. It's disgusting according to Sam Winchester but the moment someone gives a damn about what that man thinks is the day Balthazar will give up sex. That's a lie. Mostly because he would never give up sex, even if the universe decided that Sam is suddenly worth the time of day.

Balthazar didn't fight for Castiel; instead he went home and painted another shitty project for another shitty art class that isn't worth his time.

Castiel never texted to ask where Balthazar was, and Crowley never mentioned his new friend. Balthazar drowned his infuriation in scotch and porn, and drew a picture of a fallen angel.

He got an A on the assignment.

Getting Castiel's eyes right is a problem, but one he managed to fix somehow. It helps that the eyes on the painting are all different shapes and sizes to make it more abstract; it makes flaws harder to spot. He tried to get the shades right, even without color, and the seriousness of his nature as well, along with the subtle sarcasm that lights him up inside behind those blue eyes. But it didn't work. So he left it the way it is and began working on the other one, then he'll work on how Balthazar's eyes used to be. It's better that way, because most likely the viewers won't realize that those eyes belong to him. That's for the best. That level of closeness is something he would prefer no one ever reaches.

Castiel's eyes took an hour but he enjoyed every second of drawing the bastard's vision onto his canvas. It's the first time he's ever consciously drawn Castiel. There was a fallen angel drawing months ago but he hadn't noticed it was Cas until much later. So this is different… and he's not sure how he feels about that but it doesn't matter. Artists are supposed to paint out their feelings, right? So here he is and isn't it fucking beautiful, absolutely darling? It'll scare the kids for sure. God, he hopes there'll be kids at the graduating students' art show! If there aren't then he'll be sorely disappointed.

His teacher asked him what he'll be submitting but this is the first time he didn't have an answer. Usually he plans something to fuck up nice and hard then turns it in for a good laugh as others call it beautiful. So his teacher was surprised but smiled at him and said she couldn't wait. Most likely his classmates will think he's just trying to be dramatic or something. But he honestly didn't know what he'll be painting… until today. With this large canvas and the how awful everything looks. But with the background… and with the textures showing through with the pencil marking alone… it'll be stunning.

He grabbed the black paint and poured some onto his palette. He'll have to clean it in a minute. The only color in the facial features he'll be painting will be the eyes, not the skin or the lips, just around the irises. He refuses to focus on one eye at a time otherwise he'll get nitpicky. He grabbed a beer sitting on a pedestal near him and took a long sip.

After that he set it back down then immediately went back to work.

"You always act as though you know exactly what it is you are doing." Castiel pointed out, lying naked under the covers of Balthazar's bed. He would be lying beside his angel but instead he needs to get a project finished that due in an hour. After that he'll be able to spend as much time as he wants curled up with his lover.

"That's because I always do." Balthazar smirked and tried not to look at the way the sheets are slowly sliding down, teasing him, and almost showing exactly what it is he wants. He could take Castiel over and over and over again and never be sated. He'll never admit that aloud though. It could only get him into trouble or used.

"No you don't. It's just an act, but I don't understand why." Castiel informed him, looking frustrated as he glared down at the sheets, it's as though he believes that's the thing at fault for the situation.

"No one's perfect, so it has to be an act. Otherwise I'd be the first being in the world to achieve something so magnificent, but even though the shoe fits… it's not quite a possibility at the moment. You'll have to deal with me being unable to know exactly what I'm doing at all times." He grinned and continued to sketch. He likes to draw angels, which isn't something he even realized until Castiel had pointed it out. It's a bit odd since he'd been drawing nothing but angels for seven years by that point, but sometimes Balthazar refuses to look at himself and he'll need others to do it for him.

"No, I meant that I don't understand why you try to act like you understand what you're doing." Castiel clarified. This made Balthazar pause before smiling lazily at him. They're hogging the space in front of the picture of the angel in a mental hospital, the very painting that Castiel wants to own. So it doesn't really matter that they're keeping other people from looking at it, although Balthazar loves to see others admire his work.

"Sometimes people pretend to be better than they are because they want others to believe it. And they tend to think; maybe someday it'll be true." He smiled but it's bitter and if Castiel doesn't drop it now then he's just going to leave the situation entirely.

"I think I understand you a little better now." He smiled that smile which you can only see if you're looking for it.

He got the outline finished of everyone's eyes, and then began working on the white. It's a lot easier after the black has been done but it's also difficult because if the white brushes against the dark then it'll mix and that'll ruin the entirety of what he's trying to accomplish, especially for the eyes that are normal size. He took in a deep breath then continued, using the smallest brush he has. It'll take a while but he'd prefer to do it right with no mistakes then to do it quickly and ruin everything.

This painting deserves so much more than to be ruined. Glancing at the time, Balthazar noticed that it's nearing nine at night which means he should probably eat something again. Grabbing his phone he called for pizza which is something he never does unless too busy to eat real food. He ordered cheese and then continued to work on the eyes, once all of the eyes, all eight of them were halfway done, and he can't do anymore without waiting for the paint to dry, otherwise the possibilities of fucking it all up are endless.

That's when his phone began to ring. He sighed and picked it up then blinked at the one calling him. Well that's just strange. He answered with a frown. "Sasquatch, why the hell are you calling me?" Balthazar asked. Sam took a deep breath on the other end. Ah the little freshman, probably calling for him to give a message to Castiel from Dean.

"Were you and Castiel together, in a relationship?" Well that's one way to start a conversation; really, Sam should work on his telephone conversation skills. They're lacking.

"We broke up last week." The words felt solid on his tongue, but that's for the best. He might as well admit it.

"Yeah, I kind of figured. Everyone and their mother is over here comforting Cas. He broke up with you, though, right? And he's already with Crowley. So… why hasn't anyone tried to talk to you? Maybe bring over some really bad movies and three different types of ice cream?" He sounds so sincere, like he really means what he's saying.

"That is the worst way to attempt to comfort me." Balthazar informed him with a slight smirk. He leaned against the pedestal somewhat enjoying this conversation.

"Yeah well, I'm coming over tomorrow to try." Ah, he's using that stubborn voice now. Balthazar has only known Sam for as long as he's been at the college. He's just a freshman and doesn't really earn anyone's attention.

"Then no ice cream and no bad movies, the last thing I need is to watch the Titanic and have Celine Dion stuck in my head for any period of time. Why don't you go out and buy me a nice bottle of whatever kind of liquor you think I drink? Then you'll come over and I'll call it piss even though you spent fifty whole dollars on it since I won't even let you into my dorm if you haven't at least spent that much money. And then… I'll show you something." The idea of actually accepting Sam's offer had never even crossed his mind but here he is inviting him over and now he's planning on showing Sam his painting. It's not… that's not something Balthazar does. But he did.

"That sounds good. I'll do my best with the alcohol. Probably shouldn't buy fifty bucks worth of beer, huh?" He asked with a laugh making Balthazar snort in disgust.

"Your brother is a terrible influence on you."

"Well he's family, what am I supposed to do?"

"Dump him, preferably in a ditch."

"You know, he wanted me to have this conversation with you on speaker, right now I'm pretty thankful I shot that idea down. He'd kill you otherwise." Sam laughed. It made Balthazar's eyebrows raise but he doesn't really mind. This is okay.

"I would love to see the poor little mechanic try. Is he heartbroken about Cas getting taken up so quickly?" He should stop, hang up and possibly drown himself in the shower; no matter how eloquent that sounds he can't do it. He needs to hear the answer. Life will be so much easier if someone else is pissed at Cas too.

"He hates Crowley, if that's what you mean. But he was never interested in Castiel like that. He tried to be, he wanted to be, but Dean has a thing for people who can order him around. I think he had a thing for Crowley actually." Sam said with a laugh making Balthazar smile wanly. So Castiel wasn't just being a dick to him, he was also going for the kill with Dean too. What on earth made the angel do this? "So what time should I drop by tomorrow?"

"Anytime is fine, I'm just not finished with what I'll be showing you yet, so later is probably better unless you want to see an unfinished product. Just bring the lube, I ran out. And condoms if you prefer to use them." Balthazar teased with a wide smirk on his face.

"Very funny, but I know you wouldn't have sex with me even if I did bring condoms and lube. You were with Castiel for what… a year or a year and a half? You never cheated on him, not once. The relationship was open and you never went after anyone else. There weren't even rumors of it. Balthazar… you changed for him. So yeah, I want to come by and help you. And I may or may not bring the lube." Sam said sounding like such a sappy little prat that Balthazar almost hung up on him. But instead he just nodded.

"Yes but you'll be bottoming. I'll make sure to buy us Chinese."

"No Thai?"

"No Thai."

He hung up then and looked at the painting. He needs more time for the eyes to dry.

"You look ridiculous in that sweater." Balthazar informed Castiel with a frown. It's snowing and they're supposed to go to the movies to see some romantic comedy that Castiel wants to see which makes no sense since he never watches movies, Balthazar should know, they've been dating for a year and he's never seen a DVD around his lover and has never even heard him mention a single movie.

"It's for the holidays. I thought you would appreciate the effort." Castiel informed him sounding a bit sharp but Balthazar continued to smile and took in the white fuzzy sweater with a Christmas tree on it with little Christmas ornaments attached to the shirt itself. This isn't the sort of thing Castiel usually wears, so that means he's planning something. Probably.

"I appreciate the effort, no worries my love." He was mostly teasing with the 'love' comment but Castiel's eyes lit up and then he did that weird little half smile of his. When they got to the theater though… Balthazar realized what Castiel's plan had been. And honestly, he wasn't impressed in the slightest.

"Hello Balthazar, I see you've finally got yourself a bottom." Raphael smirked making him sigh loudly before pulling Castiel close.

"This is my ex Raphael. He's a bit of a petty bastard but you learn to get used to it easily enough." He smirked then kissed Castiel's cheek and tried to walk around Raphael to get to the movie but life isn't that easy.

"What made you stop being in a relationship together?" Castiel asked before getting out of Raphael's earshot. Castiel was just being careless at this point.

"He didn't tell you? Balthazar's ass is for anyone who can get a piece of it. He cheated on me nine times before we broke up." The words were bitter, more filled with wonder. But Castiel's eyes widened in shock as his lips did that disappointed curve that Balthazar hates with a passion.

"Did you forget our relationship was open? You could have slept with others as well. So why are you here, Lucy? Not just to see me and my Cas, right?" He asked with a bit of an edge. This isn't how he planned their date to go.

"What if I said that this is exactly why I came?" That soft smirk on his face is something that Balthazar knew far too well. He didn't waste any time shoving past his ex and dragging Castiel inside, even though it's obvious that he's thinking about Raphael's words too much. But Balthazar doesn't know what to say to make things better, so he doesn't say anything at all… and that's fine. He really shouldn't have to.

Even though Castiel looks like he's about to cry.

Balthazar took a shower mostly to waste more time. He needs the eyes to dry but even after the shower he knows he'll just start working on the lips which are supposed to be black and gray anyway. The only thing with color will be the actual color of the eyes, so light green for Dean, dark brown for Crowley, Blue for Castiel, and whatever colors he'll use for himself. It'll be interesting. This painting will probably be the last abstract one he ever does. The chaos… is too much. Chaos is something that Castiel can think through and handle, he always manages to see morals and lessons that no one else dares see through the carnage, but that's just who he is. The bloody idiot is going to get himself killed seeing something good in all the bad in the world. He saw something good in Balthazar, and apparently he sees something good in Crowley. Perhaps the demon is just a rebound. Regardless, Balthazar won't stop being friends with him. Crowley can be heartless but he's the best friend that he's ever had. Although apparently the man wants to be a lawyer, so he might have to retract that soon, or become closer to him than ever before.

He's not really sure yet.

But Crowley is his best friend, even if the wanker is currently enjoying Castiel's virgin body, because of course Balthazar will always consider him to be a virgin, regardless of how many times they've had sex and how many kinky items have been involved.

He stepped into his incredibly small shower and wished, not for the first time, that he was back at home enjoying actually pressured water, not this dripping mess landing on his hair, but as soon as he graduates in two months… then he'll be able to go back to that, compliment daddy dearest for money and become a rich artist whether through art or through prostitution. It doesn't really matter either way. If one of his father's rich friends finds out then he can claim he was getting some hands on action for his Artistic Nude paintings, which is complete and utter bull but they wouldn't know that. If anything, some might encourage it.

The hot water trailing down his back like slime but Balthazar refused to think about it; instead he remembered how Castiel always complained about the water as though it had done him an injustice with its very existence. That was mostly when they were trying to get rid of the evidence of sex, and although Balthazar loves the marks he used to leave on Castiel, he would help him paint over the hickeys and bruises so he wouldn't have to explain to his friends that it was sex not some freak accident, because Castiel is a bloody klutz. It's something that put a bit of a strain on their relationship, especially as the pile of ruined paintings grew larger with each passing week.

Balthazar stumbled his way out of the shower but instead of putting on clothes he just wrapped a used towel around his waist and moved quickly into the living room. There are towels all over his apartment for painting but they do just as well for drying his arms. He dried off everything that could touch the painting then quickly began working on his lips first since he made those the largest, largest to smallest on lips, especially after just stumbling out of the shower.

He worked hard until the doorbell rang letting him know the pizza man's here. Balthazar and Castiel once watched a porno together involving a pizza man and a babysitter… Castiel wanted to top that night and used a lot of tricks he learned from the pizza man in his little sexcapade that night. When he grabbed the pizza, the guy at the door didn't even react to him just wearing a towel which is a bit disappointing. But when his eyes dipped once Balthazar's towel nearly fell off… he felt better and even tipped the guy. He didn't touch the pizza though; instead he set the box down a few feet away from the painting and turned off the CD player. He's been listening to the same cd for hours now. Pulling out his phone he then turned on Pandora and listened to the abrupt change in music and style.

It's better, much livelier.

Balthazar began to paint then, ignoring everything around him, using the music itself to block everything out as he painted in where he needs to, using pencils and pens when he doesn't. This painting is absorbing him, pulling every ounce of his soul into it as it sucks everything else away. He worked on the shape of the lips, making sure that they come out just as 3D as he had originally sketched then used his brush to help dust away the charcoal as he reached over and grabbed his pen. This will probably take a few hours, but he's not tired, not in the slightest. It feels as though he could work on this for hours, even though he's just wearing a towel and hasn't eaten anything but Thai today. But that's better than how this week has gone in general.

He smirked, imagining Castiel falling to his knees as he realizes what this painting is of and how much he screwed Balthazar over with this dramatic act he played. They shouldn't have broken up, but at this point it doesn't even matter. Balthazar wouldn't take Castiel back even if he begged. He's not so masochistic that he'd allow someone who tore him to shreds to have that kind of power again. It's surprising that Castiel managed to worm his way into Balthazar's very soul in the first place. But that doesn't matter.

He was careless, and he won't be that way again. Castiel was just… everything. Too perfect, too strong, too proud, and too willing to make a difference, apparently Balthazar is weak for that sort of thing. He was so into it that it nearly killed him.

"Hello darling, what are you doing here?" Balthazar asked with a smile as he opened his door. But apparently it's not a smiling moment because his angel is looking distressed. "What's wrong?"

"I talked to Dean and he told me this has to be done face to face." Castiel informed him and that's when Balthazar noticed that that he's not wearing his overcoat. Castiel's wearing a suit and tie that looks correct for once, and his hair isn't exactly the rat's nest it usually is. It's not a good look on him.

"So what are you doing or going to tell me, angel?" He asked, his smile slowly fading as Castiel continued to stare at him with that hard gaze.

"I'm breaking up with you." The words didn't quite register with Balthazar for several seconds as his expression froze. Castiel waited patiently, always has been better at that then Balthazar, while he tried to pull himself back together enough to figure out what's happened.

"What?!"

"This relationship isn't what I've been looking for and I think I've found someone who knows what I need."

"Well good for you. I'm no good but that's alright for you because you've found someone better, lovely way of breaking things off." Balthazar snapped as his hand clutched the door tightly to keep himself stable.

"I love you." His eyes are so earnest and he seems so pure… but that's a lie. And saying those three words right now is fucking cruel of him, but odds are Castiel doesn't even know. He's just speaking the truth, what he believes, with no understanding of how heartless it is. His cruelty is brilliant. Someone should seriously take notes, maybe give them to Crowley.

"You can't say that right now, darling. You're leaving me. Anything about how much you love or care for me now will just sound like a lie." He explained then ran a hand over his face. "Who is it?"

"Who?"

"Who are you leaving me for?"

His eyes dawned with comprehension because Castiel has eyes that bloody do that then he spoke, further shattering his world. "It's Crowley."

"Son of a bitch… you couldn't just rip me to pieces? You had to bring in my best and only friend too?" He asked, trying to make it sound light, as if it's not soaked in his bitterness and rage because that's crossing a fucking line!

"It was never my intention-

"Thank God for that!"

"You're only using his name now to torment me."

"Just as you're tormenting me? Get the fuck out, Cas. I refuse to talk about this any longer, it appears I'm not in the mood to entertain today. I wonder why…"

Those blue eyes look hurt, but in a matter of seconds he nodded and turned around, leaving Balthazar's life as the artist did his best not to destroy everything he's ever created in a fit of rage. How could Castiel do this to him? But isn't it obvious? Castiel did this because it's exactly what Balthazar deserves. It's what he's always deserved.

Shutting the door he then turned around and got out all the alcohol from the pantry. It hurts… everything hurts, so if he drowns the pain away, will everything be fine in the morning? No. But in the morning he'll have a different pain to focus on.

He worked on the eyes, bringing light to the color in order for them to look alive and not so dead and dull. It's something his teacher had shown him how to do earlier that year. It took an hour of practicing by himself before he figured it out but now he's good at it, and this painting will allow his brilliance to be seen by everyone who dares to look at it. He smirked lightly and tried to keep himself from getting impatient. He's almost finished but this could easily go to the wrong way. Glancing at the clock he noticed that it's nearing two in the morning, which means he should at least eat a slice of the pizza he bought.

As a painter, when he's in the mood to paint, it's hard to snap out of it, but if he keeps going he'll screw up because the eyes aren't quite dry enough for him to add light just yet anyway and yet he wants to go ahead and do it anyway. "Impatience is something you cannot afford…" Balthazar murmured at the canvas. It's too big… the smallest eye is the size of a fist while the largest is roughly a half a foot. But the symmetry and lack of symmetry… and the black and white against the purples and blues… the painting is coming out well. He should be proud of himself.

He grabbed his towel and used it to scrub his hair. He's not even going to try to look presentable today. It's all about his painting not about the way he looks. Very rarely does Balthazar feel like this, but it's pure. When art takes over him he ignores all carnal desires and acts as though it's his holy duty to get this done, as if he was created for something better than earthly pleasures. It rarely happens but when it does Balthazar feels like a decent human being. That alone is enough reason to fuck his looks and even clothes in general. He looked down at his naked body then decided that clothes might actually be for the best, but considering the fact that he'll be pulling an all-nighter for sure at this point, just paints will do. He'll wear his jeans that are covered in holes and paint that couldn't quite come out. No boxers since that would involve too much looking.

Shoving the piece of pizza into his mouth he then walked into his bedroom and looked for those pants, ignoring his bed. He hasn't slept in his bed since Castiel left. He'll probably just buy a new one, a bed that doesn't hold any memories whatsoever. The sheets were shit anyway, terrible for lovemaking. He smirked at that and grabbed his pants from the drawer and pulled them on.

Everything else was a blur. He had actually stopped painting for a while to eat, mostly to make sure everything dries properly before he starts screwing around again. Eating took thirty minutes, mostly because he would find himself thinking about what he should do next, which aspect of the painting he should focus on and which shade of the color white to use in the background and whether or not to get some of the same colors he used earlier to mix with it so it's not pure white when he adds it in. His thoughts were swirling, which usually means he should pass out before his muse destroys him completely but with this painting… he needs to get it done.

He finished the eyes and mouths completely at six in the morning and refused to work again until it was finished drying, besides, he needs to get the same exact shades of the purples and blues he used earlier for the last part. But since life's a whiny bitch that hates him, Balthazar was stuck answering the door because someone thinks that right now is the best time to bother him. Even if he wasn't on a high from the painting there is almost no way in bloody hell he'd be awake to answer the door at this time. So whoever's knocking, must really know nothing about him.

When he opened the door… there was Cas.

He looks good. A bit messier then last time but that's nice. He has his overcoat on and the stupid suit that apparently is his favorite outfit since he's almost always wearing it. This is Cas. "What are you doing here?" He breathed, not even bothering to attempt volume at the moment. Castiel took a moment to hand Balthazar the tube of paint he had thrown out the window hours ago, the very paint that matches Castiel's eyes.

"You haven't left your dorm in a week." Castiel pointed out and pushed his way into the dorm. "A friend mentioned that you might be suffering and how you have no one to comfort you." He continued, standing in the center of Balthazar's living room, surrounded by paint and pictures, looking completely out of place but also at home.

"That was Sam right? Annoying sasquatch but he grows on you." Balthazar smiled and shut the door. Castiel turned around and stared pointedly at his bare chest making the artist smirk. "I've been painting; there was no need for shirts." At that Castiel frowned.

"How do you feel?" Of course he would be a dick and ask Balthazar that. It's only obvious, that's just the sort of person he is. He doesn't get it, probably never will, which means that Balthazar is stuck answering this stupid question.

"Absolutely nothing, I'm absolutely fine." He reassured Castiel with a wide smile then began to usher him to the door, but Castiel didn't allow it. Apparently this isn't over.

"We were together for a long time and you had no previous inclination that we would end that way. Please tell me the truth."

"Well aren't you an arrogant little son of a bitch? I'll be just fine without you, Cas." After the words left his mouth… Balthazar was surprised. He really does feel better. And when Castiel's eyes landed on the painting… his entire world filled to the brim with happiness. Because Castiel's eyes filled with tears as he stared at the painting in shock. "Beautiful isn't it?"

"You're not fine." Castiel growled but he's shaking at this point, full body trembles, and his eyes haven't left the painting. Balthazar didn't answer, he just watched his angel leave the dorm abruptly.

It took him ten minutes to start moving again and the first thing he did was grab his palette and begin putting in the white. His brush moved up and down the painting as he did his best to swirl in the blues and purples to make the background look even better. Balthazar's eyes and mouth are in the center, like the makings of a face but without anything there to hold it, but the white… they're wings. They start from the center and move outward to the very edges of the canvas.

They're beautiful, even amongst the horror of everything else. When Balthazar finished painting, he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.

He's fine.

He's really fucking fine.

Castiel was sleeping, because he always passes out immediately after sex, no matter where they are at the time. It can lead to trouble but Balthazar never really minds. Instead he ran his fingers up and down Castiel's arm, smiling down at his angel's perfect body. "You know… I think I love you. It's fucking ridiculous for someone like me, but I think I do. I like the way you see who I am in my artwork and how often you try to correct all my mistakes even if you know there's no fixing them… that it's too late. You try anyway. I don't know what you tried to pull with bringing Raphael there but… maybe you were looking for reassurance. Maybe you wanted me to say something I wasn't ready to.

I can't tell you I love you just yet. Ridiculous, aren't I? But you love me anyway. It's strange, loving someone and that person loving you back. It's foreign for me. But if we explore this then… that's something I'm willing to do. To stick with for the rest of my fucking life. It's scary. You're terrifying, you know that? But I'm willing, just for you I'm willing. Because I love you, I truly love you." Balthazar whispered into Castiel's ear then ran his fingers through Cas's hair.

But Castiel didn't hear him.

And Balthazar never said those words again.