Author's Note: This is for Lily Rose-Petals, who won my little challenge and got a fic of her choice, which was a Crowley/Balthazar fic that included the use of the name 'darling' from our dearest Crowley. This is my first Crowley/Balthazar fic actually, so I'm rather excited about the challenge, as well as the results. I added a little bit of angst, because that's my specialty. Enjoy all, and a special thanks to Lily Rose-Petals the helpful review on my other fic. I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: Kind of dub-con, though it involves the King of the Crossroads, so what more would one expect. Oh, and some fairly graphic male/male sex.
The Deal
"That's the deal darling, take it or leave it," Crowley purred, fucking purred, in that ridiculously arrogant, heavily accented voice of his. Balthazar wanted to smite him, but he was weak from blood-loss and powerless inside the ring of Holy Fire.
He also felt painfully, horribly hollow, a feeling he was sure he could blame on Castiel's betrayal. His brother had come to him asking for help, he had told Balthazar that he had fallen in too deep with a demon, that he needed Balthazar's help to distract the demon long enough for him to work out a plan to double cross him and effectively keep the Winchester's safe. Balthazar, who had grown sick of being called on every time Sam and is incompetent side-kick of a brother stubbed their toes, had eagerly agreed.
He had promptly teleported to the address Cas had given him and was thrown into a ring of Holy Fire, left powerless and weak after Crowley had drained him of several quarts of blood via Hell Hounds. The demon had played his cards well, weakening, trapping and injuring the angel for his benefit. Then he proposed the deal.
He was exhausted, weak and powerless, completely at Crowley's mercy which is why he didn't smite him on the spot the demon proposed such an absurd deal. It was a simple deal; Balthazar was to be Crowley's winged errand boy, available at his every whim and unable to deny him anything.
"This agreement will be valid as soon as you split open Purgatory?" Balthazar asked warily, too exhausted to try to trick or talk his way out of it. That, and he was pretty sure Crowley wouldn't fall for any word play, he vaguely remembered someone saying that Crowley was the demonic equivalent of Balthazar himself.
Crowley sighed, "That is what I just said, is it not?"
Balthazar held up his hands in resignation, "fine, we have a deal. Now do we kiss or w-,"
Balthazar's question was answered as Crowley pulled him into a rather crushing kiss that kind of left him breathless. The moment their lips collided though, Balthazar found that not only was the Holy Fire gone, but his wounds were healed and he felt completely rejuvenated.
He tried to peel away from him after Crowley shoved his tongue down his throat, but the demon held him firmly until Balthazar allowed himself to return the kiss, albeit very begrudgingly. He was hesitant at first, not really wanting to get himself romantically involved with a demon.
But then again, this was definitely not a romantic arrangement, but instead a business agreement, so he might as well allow himself to enjoy it. He kissed back passionately, seeking out control which Crowley refused to give up, to Balthazar's shock. The demon shoved and Balthazar found himself starring up at the ceiling, he looked around, and realized that he was on a medical-like table, not entirely uncomfortable, but far from a comfy, over-stuffed bed like his own.
"Listen darling," Crowley spoke smoothly in is ear and Balthazar finally understood how annoying it was to be called 'darling' by someone you don't really care for. "You are under my control, so you will submit to me, not the other way around, got that pet?"
Balthazar wanted to smite him on the spot but being that he was under contract he held his tongue and smirked sarcastically. "Sure thing," he growled and pulled Crowley down for a rather violent kiss. He may be willing to give Crowley control over him, but he wasn't going to make it easy for the demon. Crowley didn't seem in the mood for foreplay, which was good, because Balthazar wasn't interested in it either. Crowley made quick work of their clothing, and by quick, Balthazar meant he snapped them both naked.
Now, Balthazar usually had standards, and Crowley wasn't quite up to par with them, not to say he was repulsive. Crowley possessed a certain charm, even on the heavier side. He wore his rugged appearances well, and even if he wasn't as sculpted as Balthazar (who, despite the age of his vessel, was surprisingly fit) he didn't lack in all the important parts.
Crowley didn't touch him in any way that could be considered kind, his hands were rough as he spread Balthazar's legs and pressed his fingers to the Angel's lips. Balthazar gave him a rather defiant glare before lapping on the digits. He gripped Crowley's shoulders roughly, sure that he was going to leave bruises and was surprised to see that the demon let out a low groan in appreciation. So the demon liked it rough? Balthazar could deal with that.
When Crowley decided that his fingers were slick enough, he removed them from Balthazar's mouth and wasted no time shoving two into his arse. Balthazar groaned, his back arched sharply and he dug his nails into the demon's shoulders, growling out something in Enochian that make that demon cringe. He gave him a rather firm kiss, then growled, "watch your tongue, darling."
Balthazar bit his lip roughly in response, and the demon sneered, seeming amused as he worked the other open. Balthazar had slept with some rather interesting people over his life, and even a few he wasn't so proud of, yet at the hands of Crowley, the King of Hell, he felt a certain level of shame that surpassed all others. He was a proud man, no doubt, but even he had a moral obligation to Heaven, even if he had run from it, and he certainly felt pretty low beneath the demon.
He wasn't going to let that show though. He met the demon's eyes with defiance and pride, even if he felt like shit. Of course, these thoughts vanished once Crowley pressed his fingers against the Angel's prostate. He moaned loudly, nails digging crescent-shaped marks into his skin, earning a low groan from the demon above him.
"Will you just…hurry up?" Balthazar panted out; hips jutting back eagerly on the demon's fingers, his body betraying is mind and begging for more.
Which Crowley eagerly gave him. He removed his fingers (though Balthazar didn't really even remember when Crowley ad added the third) and slammed into him, making Balthazar cry out in pain. The girth of Crowley's cock was much more painful than three fingers, and the Angel was silently thankful that the demon gave him a second to adjust. He took several deep breaths, forced himself to relax, before finally giving an experimental roll of the hips. The pain had subsided, and Balthazar gave Crowley a nod. It didn't take any more encouragement and the demon began thrusting. He wasn't too harsh, yet he wasn't exactly gentle.
Balthazar was fine with that. He was more than eager to match his pace, desperate in his own way to get it all over with. His body was savoring every moment of pleasure, his nails raked over Crowley's skin, leaving little red scores over the flesh, but not drawing blood. He panted heavily, meeting Crowley's thrusts and even encouraging him to speed up between rough kisses and gasps of air.
Crowley was all too eager to fuck the Angel into oblivion and angled his thrusts to it his prostate each and every thrust. Balthazar moaned loudly and began stroking his weeping cock in a rough, needy fashion that roughly matched the pace of Crowley's thrusts.
He wasn't going to last.
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind did Balthazar release his load, swearing loudly and arcing sharply, his visions exploding into white stars. He came down just in time to feel Crowley release his seed inside of the Angel with a few rather vulgar swears of his own.
And just like that the demon was gone, not even bothering with a 'thanks for the good shag' leaving Balthazar to compose himself enough back to his home, where he turned on his shower, even though he knew that no amount of hot water or soap would make him feel clean.