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In The Darkness

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It had been months since he had made his deal and they exchanged their first kiss. It wasn't emotional. Strictly business. Yet Crowley couldn't keep it out of his mind. The smell of cheap liquor on the hunters breath. The way his unshaven face scratched ever so slightly at he jerked his mouth away from his own. The look of fear in his eyes. Crowley knew it was stupid to think of the man this way. He should be nothing to him. Just another soul on its way to Hell. Still, it didn't stop him from popping in on the old man from time to time. He would appear by a window on a rainy day when the hunter was in his study and share a drink or perch himself atop a car Bobby was busying himself with when there was no hunt to fill his time. He could sit and watch the man for hours. Watching his skilled hands pull apart a motor and gingerly flip pages of books older then himself. Watch as he carefully poured himself a glass of rotgut and Crowley a glass of Craig that was never on short supply at the Singer house. He thought of the way his face pursed up at whenever he and Crowley began to disagree on a politician or the history of a god and Crowley would have to hide a smirk behind his glass. Sometimes he swore even saw a glimmer of happiness when he showed up at the hunters house.

Crowley had been watching Bobby Singer for a while now. Sometimes Bobby knew he was there but for the most part he left his presence unknown. He knew that if the old hunter had ever found him sneaking around his house at night he would has his ass caught in a devils trap before he could blink. He knew where all of the traps were and made damn sure he stayed away from them. Especially the one in Bobby's bedroom. The last thing he wanted to do was explain to Bobby why he was appearing at the end of his bed in the middle of the night.

He had almost been caught once. Just once. The boys had just finished a hunt and the roads were beginning to ice over with the sleet that had started to fall earlier that evening. Dean wasn't about to risk the life of his brother or the Impala on the icy roads and they would both pick Bobby's over a cheap motel room any night. The old house was cold in the winter and heat didn't make it to every room. Bobby sacrificed his bed to Dean while Sam and himself stayed in the den and busied themselves with research on cursed objects.

Crowley didn't mean to bump against the nightstand, sending the small lamp crashing to the floor. Dean shot straight up in bed grabbing in the dark for his gun. Crowley simply muttered a curse and disappeared into the darkness once more.

Chapter Text

Bobby was sitting at the desk in his den trying to dig up some research on god knows what by the limited information Sam could give him when he skimmed the page on crossroads. His mind immediately shifted to Crowley. He hadn't though much of the demons frequent visits at first. To be completely honest, he actually enjoyed them. The big house tended to get lonely when the boys were gone and Crowley was a decent drinking buddy. He knew when the hunter wanted to be left alone and didn't pry for conversation. He could sit and enjoy the simple company of another’s presence; even if that presence was the king of hell. Bobby should hate the man. He owned his soul for Christ's sake! And yet, he couldn't be more content in his company. He looked forward to late afternoons when Crowley would appear in his kitchen with a fresh glass of Scotch and a never-ending supply of witty and often sarcastic comments. Bobby hadn't enjoyed sitting and talking to another person like this since, well, since Karen died.

He began to ponder this thought when a familiar voice spoke from the doorway of the den. Bobby felt his heart jump into his throat. He didn't have time to question the tightening in his stomach before Crowley was strolling casually to his desk. Bobby was quickly engulfed in the musky smell of Crowley's cologne. He felt the tightening in his stomach return as Crowley made his way to his normal chair. Bobby scanned the small man as if seeing him for the first time. His dark brown eyes were almost black, appropriate for a demon he supposed. Pale skin illuminated by his dark suit seemed flawless to the hunter.

"Robert. Why don't you air this room out? It smells like…depression." Crowley gingerly sat down and crossed his legs.

"Nice you see you too." Bobby found his eyes wandering up the demons pant leg, quickly catching himself and returning his eyes to his books.

"I'm sorry. What was that?" Crowley asked sitting up slightly in his chair.

"What was what?" Bobby didn't look up from him books.

"You said, 'Nice to see you, too.' You have never greeted me with more than a caveman-ish grunt in my direction."

"My mistake. " Bobby was starting to feel himself sweating despite the cold drafts coming from the multiple cracks in the den walls.

"I'm starting to believe that you enjoy my company, Mr. Singer." Crowley took a sip from his glass, a devilish grin obvious from beneath it.

Bobby looked up from his books and caught Crowley's gaze. He suddenly couldn't breathe. His throat tightened and stomach clenched. He felt like he was going to throw up. He forced himself to break the eye contact before he embarrassed himself further.

"Believe what you want." Bobby's voice was a bit louder than he had anticipated. Crowley didn't seem to notice. And if he did, he hadn't shown it.

"Something on your mind, darling? Pour a glass and lets have a chat."

"I'd rather we didn't. Now either shut up or leave. I've got work to do here." Bobby was growing angry at Crowley for making him feel this way. Making him feel like a schoolboy with a crush again. Never mind the fact that Crowley was a demon, but he was a demon in a man’s body. A very attractive man...Bobby shook the thought out of his head.

"Now Robert.."

"I SAID LEAVE!" Bobby stood up knocking his chair to the floor. His blood was pumping twice as fast as normal and his breathing was shaky. He looked down at the small man before him. His eyes dropping to his polished black shoes.

"Whatever you want, love." Crowley's voice sounded low and hurt and in a puff of air Bobby was alone in his den once again.

Without thinking he grabbed a full bottle of cheap whiskey and walked to the chair Crowley had been in and sat down, the smell of his cologne still thick in the air. He didn't even bother with a glass and within an hour, the bottle was empty.

Chapter Text

Crowley waited until almost 4am before returning to the Singer house. Bobby's sudden change of mood had been unsettling. He knew that if he stuck around he was likely to get a knife shoved into his chest. Leaving and letting Bobby work out whatever it was he needed to work out seemed like the best idea. But it had been months since he really unwound in the presence of Bobby he really needed to see him. Work had been getting the best of Crowley lately. The demons had been acting out more than normal and could sense that Crowley wasn't in top mental condition to deal with them properly. Today he had to kill one for trying to possess the Pope. The bloody Pope. Even thinking about it made Crowley want to end the bastard again. His pups had been down, feeling what their master has and are barley scratching the souls they have been retrieving. He knew that his nights hidden in the shadows of Bobby bedroom couldn't last forever but he could at least use them while he had them. Even if the satisfaction was minimal it was more than what he was getting down in Hell.

When Crowley finally returned, the sun was already beginning to rise. He stood in the dark of Bobby's kitchen, the only light illuminating from the small desk lamp in Bobby's den. Crowley peeked from around the corner, making sure that if Bobby was awake and still in a sour mood the he didn't catch a buckshot of salt to the face.

Bobby was far from awake. Crowley slowly walked over to the inebriated hunter. A empty bottle lay on the floor beside him. The skin around his eyes was red and puffy like that of a man who had cried himself to sleep.

"Oh, Robert." Crowley said out loud. He ran a cool hand over Bobby's face. Bobby turned his head into the touch, not stirring.

"Crowley," he muttered in his sleep.

Crowley froze with his hand halfway extended toward the man, being sure that he had not woken him. A few minutes had gone by before he dared to move once again. He vanished, appearing in Bobby's dark upstairs bedroom. Crowley started at the devils trap just above the hunter’s bed. He lifted the rug where he had already scraped away not even half an inch of spray paint that formed the outer ring. He stepped inside the circle and reached for the bottle of whiskey Bobby had on his dresser. Grabbing a chair from the vanity he slowly climbed up and wet his handkerchief. As soon as he had wiped away a microscopic amount of paint, he heard a voice from behind him causing him to drop the handkerchief and nearly fall off the chair spinning to the slurred voice.

"Crowley?" Bobby's voice has rough and wet. He was swaying as he attempted to stand in the doorway.

Crowley was paralyzed for a brief second until he realized Bobby wouldn't remember any of this in the morning. He glanced at the mark he had made on the paint and reassured himself that it was enough.

"Yeah, love. Its me." Crowley stepped down from the chair and walked over to Bobby side.

"What are you doin' here?" Which sounded a bit more like 'Water you do in ear?'  as Bobby's words slurred together. Crowley let out a small chuckle. "Why are you laughin' at me?" Bobby seemed as defenseless as a child as he stumbled over the area rug.

"I'm not laughing at you, Robert. Now it’s time we got you into bed." Crowley grabbed Bobby's hand and to his surprise, Bobby grabbed his back. He led Bobby to his bed, undoing his boot laces and pulling them off as Bobby muttered uncomprehend-able thoughts. Crowley removed Bobby's socks and then his worn baseball hat. He smiled down at Bobby. Bobby closed his eyes and smiled back swaying from the challenge of sitting up straight. Crowley unbuttoned his flannel over shirt and pulled it off of his shoulders. He folded it and carefully placed it on the bedside table as his hands slowly worked their way down to Bobby's jeans. The button came undone rather easily. Bobby let out a tired groan as Crowley unzipped his zipper.

"You wanna borrow my pants?" Bobby asked questioningly.

"No, darling. I want to get you out of these pants." Crowley said smiling at the intoxicated hunter.

"Oh." Bobby's simple reply sent a wave of happiness through Crowley's stomach. He smiled as he slipped Bobby's torn jeans off and folded them with the rest of his clothes.

"Now lay down, love. You need to get some rest." After tucking the blankets around Bobby he gently kissed his forehead and turned to leave.

"Where ya' goin'? Arn't ya' gonna stay?" Bobby said in what sounded to Crowley like a worried tone.

He turned back to Bobby and looked down at the drunk man. He thought about his options. He knew Bobby wouldn't refuse him. His inability to fight would only add to the simplicity of finally getting the satisfaction he needed from his late night visits. Finally he could act upon the thoughts that ran through his head day in and day out. He could bring to life the fantasies that flooded the shadowed corners of Bobby's room. No longer would he have to settle for his own hand and the shame of trying to hide his groans in the night as he watched the hunter sleep. Crowley felt the fabric of his pants tighten at the possibilities.

"No, love. I have to go," and in a rush of air was gone. Crowley may be a demon, but he wasn't a monster.

Chapter Text


Bobby awoke the next morning in a state of massive confusion. He wasn't downstairs where he knew he had fallen asleep. Had he drank that entire bottle? No. He couldn't have. He didn't want to move. His bed was warm and...he shifted his body slightly. Wet? Bobby threw the blankets off of himself and looked down to where he had felt the damp spot.

 "What the hell?" He said out loud.

The entire middle of the bed along with his boxers were soaking wet. He had wet his bed. He sighed and gathered up his wet bedding and stripped off his soiled clothes. He walked to the bathroom, his head pounding with every step and started at himself in the cracked mirror. His mind flashed back to last night. He knew he had been in the den, thinking. But what about? Then he remembered. The thought hit him like a semi and forced him retching over the bathroom sink spilling any leftover whiskey from that night before down the drain. When he was finished his body was shaking. Tears filled his bloodshot eyes and his stomach clenched itself again. He sat in the den for almost eight hours thinking about Crowley. His thoughts began as memories and as the bottle slowly emptied, they drifted to fantasies. He imagined him and Crowley in the den together reading and drinking. He thought of the way Crowley smelled, sending shivers down his spine. He imagined Crowley getting up from his normal chair and crossing to him and planting himself on his lap. He could almost smell Crowley's musk in his fantasy. He would stare straight into his deep brown eyes, his cool skin of his hands against Bobby's burning groin. He let out a sob as he realized he had given himself an erection that was pushing itself against the cold sink. Bobby felt his entire body tense up. Anger boiled from deep down inside of him. His face burned and he felt like he might explode from the sickening confusion he felt inside. Without thinking he swung blindly at the mirror, shattering it and leaving bits of broken glass embedded in his knuckles. He felt the anger depleting as hot tears blinded his vision. He slowly sunk to the cold bathroom floor, bits of glass sticking to his bare body.
 

He didn't know how long he had been laying there, his eyes burned as they dried themselves out. He had no tears left. His face was hot and his head has throbbing and his chest hurt from hyperventilation. It wasn't until he heard the familiar engine of the Impala kill itself outside and the front doors slam did he hoist himself off of the floor and try to control his breathing. He looked at himself in a piece of the shattered mirror. His eyes were red and puffy. There was blood smeared a crossed his left check from the open wounds on his hand.

 "Yo! Bobby!" Dean's voice echoed up the stairs.

Bobby cleared his throat. "Be down in a minute!" Though he tried like hell to control the shaking in his raspy voice, the word minute still caught in his throat, the first three letters sounding higher then the rest. Sam being the motherly bastard that he was, noticed it instantly. Bobby heard his heavy footsteps on the old wooden stairs.
 

"Bobby. Hey, you alright up there?"

He quickly slammed the bathroom door shut. Bobby felt a sudden jolt of fear in the pit of his stomach. He had no idea why. Sam gently knocked on the bathroom door.

 "Yeah. I'm fine now if you don't mind I'm naked in here."

 "Bobby, your voice is shaking." Sam spoke low and calm. Bobby silently thanked him for this. He knew if Dean sensed anything was wrong he'd never make it out of that bathroom with his dignity. He took a deep breath, attempting to regulate his breathing once more before he spoke again.

 "Just...Just a bad dream."

 "You know you can talk to me, Bobby."

He felt his eyes fill with burning tears once more. "I know," he said silently "I know."

 "Sammy! Bobby! Where are you guys?" Dean shouted from downstairs.

 "Better go see to him." Bobby said through the door as he picked a few small bits of glass from his hand.

 "Yeah. See ya downstairs."

Bobby heard him turn and it wasn't until he heard his last foot leave the bottom stair did he turn on the water to the shower. He stood in it until the water went cold, letting the heat wash over his already red face. He didn't let himself cry anymore. If this was what he wanted, then damnit he wasn't going to fight it any longer. Not if he was going to feel like this every time he though about the demons deep brown eyes and his cocky smirks. Bobby chuckled drily as he realized what he had just admitted to himself. He was in love with Crowley. 
                                                                      

Chapter Text

                 

Bobby carefully stepped over the broken glass and made his way to his bedroom. He stopped in the doorway, his towel clutched together in his hand, stared silently at the pile of soiled bedding and sighed. He would have to wait until the boys were gone or preoccupied before he took it down to the wash. For now he'd just throw them in the closet. He went to the end of his bed where the clothes he was wearing yesterday lay perfectly folded as if they had been placed there by a tailor. Bobby froze at the thought as soon as he had thought it. A tailor? He sat down on the side of his bed. Did Crowley put him to bed last night? He tired like hell to remember. Nothing clear came to him. Everything, apart from his extremely graphic fantasies, was hazy.

His thoughts were broke suddenly by the sound of glass shattering from kitchen below him. Bobby threw his ripped jeans on, not bothering with boxers and an undershirt, merely tossing his worn flannel quickly over his shoulders.  

"What the hell are you idjits doin' done here?" he asked loudly bouncing down the creaky staircase.

Sam and Dean stood next to each other in the doorway of the kitchen staring.  

"What the hell are you two..." He froze in between the boys in the doorway.  

"Hello, love." Crowley was sitting at his kitchen table with a bowl of fresh strawberries and the morning paper that looked to be written in Russian. Bobby couldn't speak. He stared open mouthed at Crowley as he lifted a bright red strawberry to his lips and sucked on it slightly before biting into it. A bit of juice ran down his chin and he caught it quickly with the back of his hand, not allowing it to soil his dress shirt. His lips were stained red and the stood out perfectly against the pale mans slightly stubbled face. His black hair was array and it looked like he had been awake for quite a few days. Bobby felt a tug in the pit of his stomach.  

"What the hell are you doing here, Crowley?" Deans voice turned deep and threatening as if he were a wolf protecting his pup.  

"Now Winchester. There's no need to get all defensive. I just stopped by for a little chat with Robert." Dean looked over at Bobby who was still standing in the doorway, his mouth gapping at the small man. He quickly shut it, turning to look at Dean and back at Crowley again.  

"Bobby?" Dean's voice was still deep and raspy as he looked into the hunters eyes.

Bobby nervously cleared his throat.

"Yeah?" His voice wasn't more then a whisper.  

"I think a bit more privacy is necessary. For your sake, darling." He added the last part rather quickly.  

"Whatever you have to say to Bobby, you can say to us." Dean was talking small strides to the demon who had risen and was walking to the snow covered window.  

"Not this time boys." And with a snap of his fingers Dean and Sam vanished from the kitchen finding themselves in a cold pole barn next to a very frightened cow.  "Where the hell did you send them?" Bobby crossed the kitchen to the window where Crowley was leaning on the window sill, tracing a smiley face in the condensation on the glass.  

"Don't worry. They're fine. In the neighbors barn which doesn't leave us much time." Crowley turned to face Bobby, spinning on the heels of his shoes.  

"Time for wh--" Bobby didn't have time to complete his sentence before Crowley had him pinned to the wall. He grabbed the bigger mans wrists and immobilized his hands, his knee digging into his groin. He had to stand on the tips of his toes to reach Bobby's face, his breath hot on his neck.  

"Look Robert, I'm not into playing games when it comes to something I want. I've been watching you for a while now beyond our casual chats in your pigsty of a den. I see the way you look up and down my legs when you've had a bit too much to drink. They way you find it hard to speak when I flirt. And my have I been flirting." Crowley smiled and gently kissed Bobby's check. "Now. I don't expect you to answer me right now. But I will be back tomorrow. And then, I will have an answer from you. Whether you give it to me willingly or I can force it out of those tightly sealed lips."

Crowley pressed his lips against Bobby's. It was forceful yet not enough to scare the hunter away. Crowley allowed his lips to part slightly breathing a warm breath out of the side of his mouth. Bobby remained still, not struggling, yet not returning the kiss. Crowley didn't worry as he had been listening to his thoughts since he was in the shower. He knew how vulnerable Bobby was right now and though he wasn't a monster, he was still a demon. And temptations were his buinsess. 

Chapter Text

<p>  Bobby was in shock. He felt as if he were frozen to the wall. What just happened? Did Crowley just...Was he...?What?!No, this was too much. His head was spinning. He needed to sit. He needed to think. This was what he wanted wasn't it? Bobby sank to the worn linoleum floor of his kitchen. He reached his hand to his faces and touched the spot on his cheek where Crowley had kissed him. Its warmth stood out against the cold from the barley heated kitchen. No. No he didn't want this. But, god did his body need it.
 "Crowley." Bobby chocked out in barley a whisper. "Crowley?" A bit louder this time. He leaned back against the wall as the front door slammed open and a very disgruntled Sam and Dean stumbled into the house.
 "Bobby?! BOBBY?!" Dean ran into the kitchen nearly tripping over Bobby's legs. 
"Bobby. Jesus what happened? Are you ok?!" Sam knelt down beside Bobby and began to fuss over him attempting to check for wounds.
"Get off me ya' idjits. I'm fine." Bobby shook the two off and got to his feet.
 "Why are you on the floor?" 
 "What did Crowley want?"
  "Did he threaten you, Bobby?" 
 "I'll kill that demon son of a bitch."
 Bobby's head began to race a second time. He just needed to think and the boys weren't helping to reduce his stress and confusion levels. He didn't even care what he said as long as it got the boys to leave him alone for five minutes. 
"I'm fine. He wanted some information on Tricksters." 
 "Tricksters?" Sam turned to Dean with a look of confusion. 
"Why didn't he want us here? We have information on the bastards. We did all that when we though Gabe was one of them." 
"What did he need information for?"
 "That still doesn't explain how you ended up on the floor."
Bobby was done answering questions that he had no answer to. He had enough of that from himself. He started to clean up the glass that Dean had broken earlier.
 "Look fellas. I don't know what he wanted it for. But I gave it to him. And I'm just a little tired. Didn't get much sleep last night. Ok?"
Dean seemed convinced enough to mutter an 'Ok' and leave the kitchen. Sam was a bit harder to break. He knelt down and stared helping Bobby with the pieces of broken glass.  
"Bobby, what's going on?" His voice was soft yet demanding. "And don't tell me nothing because I'm stupid. Is Crowley threatening you? Whatever he's doing you can tell us. He can't hurt you Bobby. Let us help. Let me help." 
"He's not hurting me." Bobby walked over to the trash can and dumped the glass inside. 
"Then what's going on?"
 "Just leave it alone Sam." 
 "I can't just leave it alone, Bobby. You're an emotional wreak. You won't talk to us. You were crying in your bathroom earlier and I saw your sheets on the floor."
Bobby froze. Half from embarrassment and the rest from fear. He didn't know how he was going to get out of this. Damnit why did Sam have to be so observant. Why couldn't he be like Dean and just accept his bullshit story and walk away. Why did he have to care so much. He stood staring into Sam's eyes as if they were headlights and he was a spring fawn. The fear gripped him and his grey eyes filled yet again with tears. 
 "Bobby. What's wrong?" Sam grabbed his arms gently. Bobby saw no way out of this. He was losing this battle and he knew it. Sam would never let this go.
 "You're killing me kid." Bobby sighed, fighting back the tears. Sam stood quietly. "Look. Let me have the rest of the day to think without you two bitching at me and I'll tell you whatever it is you want to know tomorrow. Just...let me think." Sam nodded his head. 
"Ok. As long as you promise you're ok."
 "I'm as ok as I could be."</p>

Chapter Text

Bobby started up the stairs to his room once again. The boys had taken over the den and he really would rather be alone to think right now. He grabbed some clean sheets from the hall closet and kicked the dirty ones on to the stairs. He didn't remember putting the new sheets on his bed. All he could think of was Crowley's dark brown eyes. His hands which seemed unusually soft for a man. He thought of his suit. His overcoat and tie and imagined what would be the quickest method of removing them. He occasionally felt a prick of embarrassment in his stomach for thinking the things he was until he remembered no one else could see what he was thinking. At least neither of the boys. Bobby had already decided he wasn't going to tell Sam the truth. He picked up the sheets and headed down the stairs to the basement. As he passed the den hall Dean looked up and raised his beer.
 

"Ya' gonna join us in  here or are you going to play French maid with yourself all day?"

 "I'll be right there. Keep your panties on. Some of us have to actually do our own housework instead of making and old man take care of their sorry asses."

Dean smiled and shook his head. Sam got up to follow Bobby but a stern look from Dean put him back in his chair. Bobby glanced nervously at the clock on the wall before making his way to the basement. Crowley said he would be there tomorrow for his answer. It was almost 6pm. The day had vanished and he couldn't remember more then a few moments of it. He tossed the laundry into the machine and headed for the den. There wasn't anything else he could think about tonight besides the nervous fluttering inside of his stomach.

Chapter Text

 

Crowley tied his leather apron and ran his fingers over the multitude of silver knifes and scalples and other arangement of sharp objects used to slice open his souls. His eyes shone in the dim light of the concrete room. Wails of pain came from the ajoining cells where other unfortunante victums were being carved by Crowleys assistants. He closed his eyes as he strained to hear Bobbys thoughts from this disance. He frowned as he straigned to hear the hunters thoughts. He was quickly pulled back to his own world by a frightened scream and the rattleing of chains from behind him. He grabbed a small scalple and turned quickly on the heels of his black shoes.

 "Ah. You're awake."' Crowley smiled at the large man chained to the wall behind him.

 "Who are you? Where am I?" The man choked out the words against the chain digging into his neck.

 "First off this is Hell, darling. And I'm your King." Crowley smiled as he walked to the shaking man.

 "Your...the devil?" the man shook so powerfully it rattled the chains once more.  

"No. I'm not the devil. He's currently locked in a cage because he was a naughty boy. And so were you."  

"No. No I don't belong here! I don't belong in Hell!" He began to fight against the chains, trying to lunge at Crowley.

 "They all say that, love. Now stop fussing and let's get started shall we?"

 "No! No!" The man shook violently at the chains.

 "If you don't stop fighting this is only going to get worse." 

Crowley ran the scalple across the mans cheek. He spit in Crowleys face.

"That right there," Crowley said wiping his face witht he back of his hand, " Along with calling me that spoiled child of an angel, was your second  mistake. One last strike and your going to wish you were in that little cage with Lucifer himself."

Crowley sliced into the mans left eye, the lens slipping cleanly out into his hand. A bloodcurdling scream echoed through the room. Crowley couldn't help but smile and take a second to enjoy it dispite his hope to quickly get this welcome through with.

 "Don't! Please...stop!"

The man uttered the normal pleas of surrender and Crowley as usual ignored them. He smiled as he thought about what Bobby was doing right now. He looked at his watch which was set for the time at the Singer house. 6pm. He didn't have time to play with this utterly useless ball of former human and his cique pleas were anything but exciting, which was just making Crowley's job twice as hard.  

"Look, darling. I have a date with an extremly sexualy deprived man tonight and with any luck the night will end with a desent knocking of boots. Now. In light of this, I'm going to leave you here to think about why you're here and we will pick this up again tomorrow. Crowley began to remove his gloves when he heard a mutter from the mans swollen mouth.  

"Fagot."

Crowley turned quickly again toward the man.

 "Really?" Crowley tilted his head and asked a questioning look on his face. "You had a chance to spend your first night in hell perfectly untouched and you had to go and spoil it with a crude remark like that?"

Crowley left the room. The words didn't hurt him but he was a bit sensitive toward homophobia and this was hell. He swung open the door to the next room where a young man, maybe late 20's with bleach bolnde hair who happened to be one of his greatest torture artists was wiping the blood of his last victum on a stained towel.

 "Hey boss. Whats up?"

 "I need you to go next door and teach that man a lesson in intorerence."  

"No problom. You alright, Boss? You look anxious."  

"I'm late for a date."

 "A date? With who? Do I know her?"

 "If you had the unfortunacey to meet him, you'de probally be dead right now. So my guess is no."

 "Him? Hes a dude?"  

"Yes. Now remember that lesson in intorerence I need you to teach for me?"

 "Hey boss, I'm cool with it. What your into is no buisness of mine. I'll get right on that."

 "Aprecciated." And in a gust of wind, he was gone.

 

Chapter Text

Bobby moved slowly toward the stairs. His mind moving a million times faster then his feet ever could. The boys were waiting for him in the hall when he reached the top of the stairs.

"Hey Bobby. Sam and I are going to go get some food from that diner in town. You know. The one with the red haired chick who wants to bone ya."

Sam grunted and punched Dean in the arm.

"What?! She does."

 "Want us to get you anything?" Bobby thought for a moment. He really should eat. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he had a meal that didn't consist of stale crackers and whiskey.  

"Yeah. Just, get me whatever. I ain't picky."

 "Alright. Be back in a bit."

As soon as the boys had made it out the front door Bobby wandered into his den, sat down at his desk and poured a glass of rotgut. He started to busy himself with some books that Sam had left strewn across the desk when he felt a breeze accompanied by that familiar scent that made his stomach turn itself in knots again. Now he remembered why he hadn't eaten.  

"Well hello, Love."

Bobby didn't dare to look up. Instead he buried his face farther into his work.  

"What's the matter? Arn't you happy to see me?" Bobby grumbled something from behind a book, too nervous to say much more.

 "What was that? I'm a bit hard of hearing."  

"I said, I thought you weren't coming until tomorrow."

 "I was impatient. Does that mean you don't have an answer for me yet?"

Bobby shifted slightly behind the desk. He didn't know what to say. He still wasn't quite sure what he wanted to do. He had only just admitted he had feelings toward Crowley this morning and he didn't know if he wanted to, or even how to act upon them just yet.  

"No."

 "No? No you don't have an answer." Bobby merely shook his head.  

"Really Robert? I left work early to come here. I'm not leaving empty handed."

Crowley crossed the room and sat in his usual chair.

 "Do you have any idea of what I've been going through? Need I remind you that I'm a demon, Robert? I could have tied you to a bed frame and forced you to swallow whatever I felt proper whenever I felt the urge? But I didn't. I settled for standing in the corner of your bedroom and wanking off for nearly half a year."

The thought of Crowley standing over him and touching himself sent unsettling shivers of arousal down his spine. Crowley could hear the hunters thoughts. He knew what his words were doing to him and he liked it. He knew he could get Bobby to give in. He WAS a master of manipulation.

"I thought about doing things to you. Unimaginable things."

Bobby swallowed roughly. He was beginning to sweat, his groin tingling with the familiar feelings of lust.

 "I thought about what I could do to make you moan. I thought about what you could do to me."

Bobby felt his cock growing hard against his thigh. He was thankful Crowley couldn't see behind the desk. Crowley, hearing his thoughts smiled and leaned down in his chair, slowly unbuttoning his expensive black dress pants. Bobby saw this and feelings of panic swept through his body. He jumped up from the desk and walked quickly to the door. He had to go. He didn't know where. But he couldn't do this. It was wrong. Why was it wrong? He had to think. He had to leave. He couldn't move.  

"Crowley..." Bobby's voice sounded desperate.

 "I'm really not in the mood to play these silly games with you, Robert." Crowley had wandered over to the spot where Bobby stood frozen.

"Stop pushing me away because in the end, you know I'm going to get what I want." Crowley leaned into Bobby.

"And I know you want it too. I can hear what you think you bloody idiot."

Bobby was mortified. Crowley knew every thought about them that has ever ran through his head.  

"I'm done playing nice, Robert. I've waited long enough."

Crowley leaned into Bobby, his tongue snaking between his lips, wetting them slightly. Bobby felt weak as he stared into the demons eyes. Every ounce  of energy he had saved up to fight was gone. The tightening in his stomach seemed to unknot as Crowley slowly wrapped his arms around Bobby's waist. He couldn't help but to follow suit as Crowley pressed his body against his. Bobby slipped his hands under Crowley's suit jacket, feeling the warmth of his back on his arms. Despite this a shiver ran through his body. Crowley brought his lips closer to Bobby's neck brushing them along the small hairs beneath his ear. He nipped slightly at his earlobe and breathed slowly down the back of his neck. Bobby couldn't think. Crowley's mouth moved to his and he closed his eyes allowing Crowley to deepen the kiss. Crowley's tongue cautiously swept across the hunters. He was surprised to find the action returned. Crowley didn't need anymore of an answer. He broke away from the hunters tightly growing grip.

 "Lets go upstairs, love." Crowley didn't give him the chance to say 'no' before they vanished to the bedroom.

Chapter Text

"Clean sheets? You were expecting me, eh Robert?"
Crowley grabbed Bobby's hand and lead him toward the bed.
 "I was just umm.."
Crowley pushed Bobby down onto the bed the springs squeaking under the sudden pressure. He stood in front of hunter beginning to slowly unbutton his white undershirt. Bobby sat watching him motionless. His nimble hands worked at the buttons with seemly unreal precision. He watched as Crowley's smooth chest was exposed. Bobby reached his hand up to touch his pale skin, his calloused hands gingerly tracing the small patch of hair leading from his navel and disappearing into the hem of his pants as if taunting him to look further. Crowley bent his arms back allowing his shirt to slip carelessly to the carpet. His hands can slowly up to his waist when he hesitated.
"You mind helping me with this one?"
Crowley asked innocently as the hunters eyes began to grow wider by the second.
"Sure.."
The word got caught in his throat. He slowly reached his hand up the demons dress pants unbuttoning the top button, trying his hardest not to touch him. As he zipped the zipper down Crowley backed away from the bed. He kicked his shoes off and let his pants slide to the ground. Bobby began to sweat again. He stared at the demon for what seemed like an eternity, taking him in. Crowley slipped his hands under the hem of his boxer shorts. Bobby grabbed at the comforter as if it were going to stop him from falling into the brink of madness as Crowley slide his boxers to the ground.
"Well, love?"
 Bobby was for one of the first times in his life, truly speechless.
"Are we going to sit here and stare all day and wait for the boys to come home, or are we going to get those filthy cloths off of you?"
 Bobby forgot about the boys. Panic mingled with previous arousal and excitement as he looked at the clock. They had been gone about 10 minutes. Bobby had to check the clock again. It seemed like it had been longer. But they had plenty of time left before they did make it home. Even if the diner wasn't busy.
 "Alright then, Mr. Singer."
 Crowley was so close to Bobby now that he could almost taste the musk he was wearing. He snapped his fingers and the hunters clothes disappeared and reappeared in a neat pile at the foot of the bed. Bobby quickly covered his erection with a pillow.
"Really, Robert?"
Crowley started a small fire in the center of the pillow. Bobby yelped and flung it toward the door.
"Stop playing around with me. Let me see you."
Bobby hesitated but slowly uncovered himself. Crowley looked down and smiled.
"Now. Was that so hard? No pun intended."
Crowley walked to the other side of the bed and laid down. Bobby struggled with the urge to throw himself at the demon. He thought for a second and once again fear and nervousness engulfed his mind.
 "Crowley, this.." He stopped trying to find the right words to say.
"This?" Crowley sat up, his patience wearing thin.
 "This is my first time. Ya know...with another man."
Bobby could feel his face turn red as he said it. He felt like he was in high school again.
 "I would have never guessed." Sarcasm was thick in his voice. Bobby shied away as Crowley reached for his arm.
 "Look, Robert. I'm not going to hurt you." Crowley's voice sounded almost sincere.
Bobby exhaled deeply and nodded.
"Now come here."
 Bobby was pushed back on to the bed as Crowley quickly rolled on top of him. He startled the hunter and positioned himself just so Bobby's growing erection was directly on his ass. The sudden pressure on his groin caused Bobby to let out a sharp moan. Crowley seemed pleased with this and thrust slightly attempting to produce the sound once more, with great success. Crowley bent down and began to once again work his mouth around on the hunters neck, stopping at his mouth. Bobby let this continue until he felt like his cock was going to burst into flames.
"Crowley..."He muttered deeply.
 Crowley looked him in the eyes and smiled knowing from experience exactly what the hunters simple utterance meant. He slowly let his tongue trail from Bobby's mouth down his chest and stopped just below his navel. Without warning he had taken Bobby in his mouth and within seconds the room was filled with Bobby's desperate attempts to stifle his moans.
 "Crowley, please. Stop."
 Bobby begged, feeling the tightening in his loins growing closer and closer to release with every flip of Crowley's extremely skilled tongue. Crowley simply sucked harder, his tongue massaging the underside of his cock. Bobby could feel as the demon swallowed, the head of his cock pressing against his soft palate. Bobby felt the tightening in his balls growing stronger.
 "Crowley...Oh God..."
His words were loud and breathless as he came, the demon quickly swallowed and moved his body up the hunters heaving chest. His brow was covered in sweat and he wiped it away with a heavy stroke of his arm.
"That was..." Bobby was at a loss for words.
 "King of Hell, darling. It's in my nature."
He sat up on Bobby's lap his own hardening cock in his hand. Bobby stared at the man stroking himself on his lap. He was mesmerized by the unsettling beauty of it. Crowley's hand worked up and down the shaft slowly and Bobby couldn't help but not look away. Without realizing it, he had reached his own hand out and brushed the head of Crowley's penis as if testing to see if it was dangerous. He wrapped his hands around Crowley's, his arm following the demons. Crowley smiled down at the hunter, removing his hand from beneath his and allowing Bobby to wrap his calloused fingers around him. Bobby tried to match Crowley's previous rhythm, rubbing the underside of his cock the way he liked it himself. Crowley hummed in approval.
"Is this ok?" Bobby asked, nervous, not wanting to fail on his first attempt with the obviously experienced demon.
"Its wonderful, darling. A bit harder...there." He moaned quietly at the ceiling, his eyes closed.
"Bloody hell!"
Crowley's eyes snapped open and he jumped, startling the already on edge hunter.
"What? What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" Bobby sat up as Crowley crawled off his lap.
"The boys are home. Yet again, cock blocked by the Winchesters. Unless you don't mind them knowing about our little romps." Crowley asked half hoping and half out of pure demonic frustration.
"No. You have to go." Bobby jumped out of bed, scrambling to dress himself as quietly as possible.
 "Mind if I say here for a few minutes? I'd rather toss one off in your bed then in mine."
Crowley smirked as he stretched out along the length of the bed. Bobby stared at the man laying naked in his bed, his erection standing straight as if reaching for heaven. Bobby chuckled at this thought through his terror of being found by the boys. It was only the sound of the front door slamming that brought him back to reality.
"God Crowley."
"Not quite." Crowley began stroking himself yet again.
"You know, I won't last much longer. We could be done before they realize grumpy uncle Singer isn't at his desk."
Bobby dwelled on this for a brief second. Crowley laid his head back on the pillow and let out a heavy moan as he twisted his skilled hand around his cock. That was all of the convincing Bobby needed. He practically jumped into bed next to Crowley, grasping his cock with one hand and the back of his head with the other. He pulled him forward letting the demon moan into his mouth to stifle as much noise as possible as he felt the muscles in Crowley's cock begin to tighten. He tugged harder and faster, Crowley's moans becoming more and more audible through Bobby tired his hardest to quiet them. It wasn't long until Crowley was thrusting his hips upward and Bobby felt a familiar warmth engulf his hand. Crowley no longer tried to control the volume of his voice and in return was greeted by a harsh crushing of lips on his own.
 "Damnit Crowley!" Bobby muttered.
 "Sorry, love." Crowley whispered breathlessly.
Bobby wiped his hand on the sheets and stood up, adjusting his pants.
"Bobby!" Deans voice echoed through the house.
 "Better get down there before the motherly moose starts clomping up the stairs."
Bobby looked at Crowley, his eyes filled with what Crowley concluded was fear.
"I'll come back when the boys are asleep." And in his usual puff of air, he was gone.
Bobby stood in the center of his room staring at the spot on the bed where Crowley had just laid. He felt a sting of loneliness as he recalled the events of the last few minutes. It was overwhelming. He felt like his mind was going to explode if he tried to rationalize the situation. He stared at the mess of sheets his thoughts flying back to how skilled Crowley's tongue was. How it seemed to be in two places at once. How his hands felt on the bare skin of his back. How his sweat tasted different. Sweeter in a way. He wondered what his cum tasted like. Bobby shook this thought away as another call from Dean made its way up the stairs. He glanced down at himself. He was half hard and his stomach grumbled obnoxiously as the smell of the dinner food floated up to his room. He arranged himself in his jeans and made his way down the stairs. He couldn't help taking one last quick glance at his disheveled bed. He smiled at he knowledge that in a few hours, Crowley would be next to him in those sheets once again.
"Balls." He muttered softly into the empty room. He really was in love with Crowley.</p>