This is based off artwork by the mind-blowingly talented Gorlassar:
post/137547160203/ive-had-this-one-sitting-around-half-finished
Bobby looked up, taking in the blue sky, almost unbearably bright from the sun shining a blinding white. Sweat pooled in the creases in his forehead, running down the bridge of his nose as he ducked his head down again so his face was shaded by the brim of his worn out trucker hat. In his misery, Bobby's eyes slid sideways to the short, stout man walking briskly beside him.
Crowley was, despite the punishing heat, dressed to the nines, as per usual. His signature black suit was buttoned fittingly around his midsection, his black shirt secured around his neck with a deep red silk tie. Bobby nearly had a heat stroke just at the thought of the ensemble, but Crowley seemed completely unperturbed, his arms swaying thoughtlessly at his side, a calm expression on his face, not a single drop of sweat to be seen. Sensing eyes on him, Crowley looked up, and, ignoring Bobby's death glare, sent him an easy smile. "Buck up, love, we're nearly there."
Bobby rolled his eyes, muttering darkly under his breath. He could feel the heat of the sidewalk through the soles of his shoes and he was almost surprised the rubber wasn't melting to the pavement. He looked to his other side, seeing his own reflection in the shop windows as they passed, yearning to be inside where, he was sure, the air conditioning was on full blast.
They crested the hill Bobby had never noticed was so steep before, and could finally, to his relief, see their destination ahead.
In big green letters, framed by brightly painted vegetables, Bobby could make out the Farmers Market banner. "Fuckin' finally." Bobby sighed, shooting Crowley another death glare that was again ignored, "I don't know why you make us come here."
"Because not all of us have the pallet of a Neanderthal," Crowley said, the insult softened by the fondness Bobby pretended not to hear in his voice.
Bobby grumbled again, but did not argue further. If it was up to him they would do their weekly shopping at the Food n' Stuff down the road from the house. A chuckle almost escaped his lips as he remembered the first and only time Crowley had let himself be taken there. The demon had stepped inside, seen a display of ceramic wolves beside a cooler of vaguely labeled meat and had promptly turned on his heels and refused to return. The next day, Crowley had taken them to a local farmers market he had discovered and wouldn't hear of going anywhere else since. Bobby couldn't complain too much though. Since Crowley had moved himself into Bobby's house, the demon had taken up a fondness for cooking, and Bobby had to begrudgingly admit that he was damn good at it.
Bobby looked over to Crowley as they walked under the banner and cursed the warm feeling that bloomed in his chest when he saw the man's lips spread into an excited grin.
"Hello, my darling," Crowley smiled warmly at the girl running a vegetable stand near the entrance, "I trust you saved the best for me." Bobby rolled his eyes as Crowley wiggled his eyebrows, making the girl giggle.
"But of course, Fergus," she smiled, giving them a wink as she ducked under the table, emerging with a crate of picturesque vegetables of several varieties.
"Perfect, as always, you lovely, lovely girl," Crowley was practically beaming as he inspected the produce, weighing them in his hands and searching them for characteristics Bobby could not begin to guess at. Crowley, seemingly satisfied with the crate, handed over a stack of bills that Bobby couldn't help but think seemed too large for just a crate of vegetables, but he wasn't about to ask.
"You boys have fun, don't get into too much trouble," the girl gave them a knowing smile and another wink. Bobby turned away so she couldn't see the blush that was burning its way across his already too hot cheeks.
"See you next week, my dear," Crowley waved before lifting up the crate like it was nothing and falling into step beside Bobby.
They visited a few more stands, each one having saved their best pick of the product for them, and each one offering the same knowing smile with their friendly goodbyes.
By the end of the trip, Bobby was on edge, hyper sensitive to every glance their way, every whisper behind a hand, every overly-friendly greeting and farewell. His breaking point occurred when, while on their way under the banner, crate of vegetables and various bags of groceries hiked up on Crowley's hip, Bobby felt the brush of a hand against his, Crowley's fingers inching over to intertwine with his own.
Bobby felt panic, laced with anger and annoyance, twist in his gut before he ripped his hand away from Crowley's grasp. The death glare that Bobby sent the shorter man did not go unnoticed this time. Bobby pretended he didn't see the hurt in the other's eyes and ignored how Crowley held his hand to his chest like it had been burned, staring down at the appendage as if it required contemplation.
"Right then," Crowley said quietly, before his frown spread into a grin that was just a little too wide, "let's get all this home, shall we."
Bobby grunted in response, refusing to acknowledge the nagging weight in his chest as Crowley quickened his pace just slightly so they were no longer walking side by side.
-x-
"Really, love, this is appalling," Crowley grimaced, his nose wrinkled in distaste, "you'll be dead by the year if you keep this up."
"I doubt it with all the crap you've been force feeding me." Bobby shot back, words slightly muffled around the slightly too large bite of burger he was working on.
"That crap is called vegetables, and most of us adults quite enjoy them, it's not my fault your tastebuds stopped maturing at age twenty-two." Crowley's insult had no bite to it, and it bothered Bobby for reasons he did not want to explore, "anyway, I have what you need."
Bobby sat up as Crowley dug around in his jacket pockets for a moment before producing a small, dusty book, "that should have all the information you need. Had to bring several very angry cultists to a rather bloody end before they gave it up."
Bobby picked up the book, flipping through it for a moment until he was satisfied that it was what he needed before sticking it in his back pocket, "thanks, that should do."
"Your gratitude is overwhelming" Crowley gushed mockingly, putting a hand to his heart and making a show of batting his eyelashes.
"Cut it out," Bobby grumbled, a blush creeping across his cheeks, "you look ridiculous."
"Can I get you boys anything else?" The waitress asked, popping up suddenly, cutting through whatever remark Crowley had been about to say.
"No thank you, my dear, I think we're about done if you'd like to bring the check round." Crowley smiled warmly at her.
The girl nodded before walking off.
"She didn't ask if we wanted the checks separate." Bobby pointed out.
"Why would she? We come here together all the time, I'm sure they know us at this point." Crowley said absently.
Bobby considered this for a moment before realizing he was right, they came here almost every week together. It was very much routine, Crowley letting Bobby cheat once a week on the diet the demon had taken upon himself to implement.
He thought back and he couldn't remember the exact moment he had let Crowley infiltrate his life in such a monumental way. The heat behind that first, sealing kiss had led to something casual, which had somehow, without Bobby's knowledge turned into something more. There had been no one in his life since the boys, since Karen that he had let this close.
"Bobby," Crowley's voice cut through his thoughts, "you alright? Where'd you go?"
Then, Crowley's hand was on his, rubbing gentle circles on the skin between his thumb and index finger. Bobby let himself be drawn into the touch for a moment, but when he saw the waitress appear out of the corner of his eye, Bobby wrenched his hand away, shooting the other man a warning glare.
"Here you boys go" the girl said cheerfully as she walked up to their table.
"Thank you, my dear," Bobby told himself he didn't hear the strain in Crowley's voice, "it was lovely, as usual."
"Well, I'll see you both next week," she gave them a friendly smile before walking away.
For just a moment, they sat in silence, Bobby purposefully not looking at Crowley.
"Well, love, duty calls, don't wait up." Crowley tried smiling as he stood from the diner booth, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"You're not comin' home?" Bobby asked, his eyebrow raised, Crowley didn't usually work late at night unless he had a contract to collect.
"No, I have some things to wrap up, loose ends to tie, Hell's a busy place, you know." Crowley waved his hands, as if he couldn't really be bothered to explain it all, but the tenseness in his shoulders and the tight line his lips had formed ruined any flippancy he was trying to convey.
"Well, alright then," Bobby shrugged as they made their way out, figuring if it was anything he needed to know the demon would tell him.
Crowley looked at Bobby for a moment as they stood beside his truck, his mouth opened as if to say something, but he seemed to think better of it as his jaw closed with a sharp click. Bobby couldn't quite name the look in Crowley's eyes as he snapped his fingers and vanished.
-x-
Crowley lounged lazily on the couch, a book suspended above his head, as Bobby immersed himself in research.
"What would you like for dinner today, my darling?" Crowley asked, plucking is book from the air to set it closed on his chest.
"Whatever you'd like," Bobby answered over his shoulder, "Surprise me."
"That, my dear, is a dangerous sentence," Crowley smirked, rising from the couch to drape himself over Bobby's shoulders to look at the yellowed manuscripts and torn maps laid out on the desk "What're you working on?"
"Rufus called earlier, said he was on the trail of something-" Bobby's explanation was cut short as the phone sitting beside him began to ring, "that's probably him now."
"Singer's Salvage," Bobby answered, pressing the phone between his ear and shoulder, "hey, Rufus, no nothin'. You got a description for me yet?"
Bobby was silent as he listened.
"Okay... dog-like body, slick fur, four monkey-like hands and one on the end of a long tail... hangs out in the shallow parts of rivers..."
"That's a Ahuizotl Aztec," Crowley pipped in, "nasty little buggers, rock salt won't do much, I suggest fire."
"Did ya hear all that?" Bobby asked Rufus, "okay, good... no one! It's no one! Shut yer damn mouth, it's just a damn visitor, don't say stupid shit."
Crowley stared at Bobby as he hung up the phone, grumbling about nosey idjits. "Does he not know I live here?" Crowley asked in a too-small voice.
"No," Bobby said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "and don't you go tellin' him either, I don't want him gettin' any weird ideas."
"Ah, of course not," Crowley said through clenched teeth, but Bobby had already turned around and couldn't see the way his eyes flashed.
-x-
When the boys announce that they'll be by to stay for a few days, Bobby makes Crowley move all of his stuff to a separate bedroom and Crowley doesn't speak to him for two days. It's not that Crowley neglected him, the demon still cooked his meals, he still found his laundry folded neatly on the bed, Crowley still sat beside him reading while Bobby did research. But there were no passing touches, no soft kisses on his forehead as Crowley set a plate in front of him, no sweet nothings as they curled up on the couch to watch bad movies. Instead, he noticed how Crowley avoided looking into his eyes, how sometimes when Bobby entered a room he would find the demon sitting silently with his head in his hands. Bobby did his best to ignore it, to tell himself that he didn't miss the affection and wasn't worried at all, but it was making him irritable.
The morning before the boys were arriving, Bobby walked into the library, intending to get some research done. As he passed through the doorway, he saw Crowley sitting in his armchair, his eyes were still and unfocused, obviously not reading the book that was set on his lap. Crowley didn't move, didn't seem to notice Bobby was there at all, and when Bobby cleared his throat to get the other's attention, Crowley jumped.
Bobby's jaw clenched as Crowley's eyes slid into focus, he watched as his eyebrows drew together, his gaze locked on Bobby, almost searching for something. Then, all emotion was gone from the demon's face, his lips set in a line, his eyes tired as he stood from his chair, gently closed his book, and made to walk past Bobby without so much as a second glance.
Something Bobby told himself was anger and not worry clutched tightly in his chest, he slammed his hand against the doorframe, blocking the man's way.
Crowley regarded the arm, along with the fuming human it belonged to, "you know I could just poof out of here," Crowley rolled his eyes, still refusing to look up at Bobby.
"What's the matter with you?" Bobby asked, perhaps a little angrier than he had intended.
"Nothing at all, darling," Crowley spat the last word out like venom.
"Bullshit," Bobby growled, "you've been moping around for two days. Haven't said a damn word to me."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Princess," a sneer pulled at Crowley's lips, his tone condescending, "have I upset you?"
Bobby glared at the shorter man, "Are you really going to be this big of a bitch over me making you switch rooms for a few days?"
Crowley looked up at Bobby and, for just a split second, he saw his eyes flash red, then he watched as Crowley opened his mouth, looking as though he was going to start screaming at him. But, after a moment, the rage broke from his eyes and he just looked tired again. "Get out of the way."
Bobby pushed down the part of himself that wanted to wrap Crowley in his arms, to coax whatever was wrong with him out with sweet words and gentle touches "Thought you could just poof away?"
Crowley looked into Bobby's eyes, searching like he had before, his mouth opened with a bitter smile, "as you wish."
And then, with a signature snap of his fingers, Crowley was gone, and Bobby was alone.
-x-
Nearly a week passed and Crowley still had not come home. Bobby tried to ignore the sick feeling in his gut, tried to ignore the gnawing guilt, but he couldn't quite get the searching look Crowley had given him before he'd left out of his mind.
So, when Rufus called him up to help dispose of a small nest of vampires a few towns over, he welcomed the distraction.
The job went fine, they were all newly turned, violent, but sloppy and easy to outsmart. Within the hour, they were busy digging a deep grave in a field near the abandoned house they'd been holed up in.
"So," Rufus said, breaking the near complete silence they had worked in the whole day, "are we gonna talk about it?"
"Talk about what?" Bobby asked, sticking his shovel in the loose dirt and turning to his friend, his eyebrow raised.
"You know what."
Bobby felt like a child being chastised by a school teacher and he wasn't a fan, "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Rufus sighed, rolling his eyes, "Crowley called me to tip me off about this new nest," he paused, waiting for a reply or a reaction, but Bobby just stared at him, his brow drawn in confusion, "now why would he call me and not you?"
"How should I know?" Bobby bit back, ignoring the guilt sitting like a weight in his gut.
"So you two didn't break up?" Rufus set his mouth in a tight line, like he couldn't believe Bobby was being this stubborn.
Bobby, to his credit, did not start sputtering and going on like a school girl caught in a crush, but he couldn't stop the blush that spread all the way to the tops of his ears.
"Yeah, I thought so," Rufus only looked slightly pleased with himself, "so are we going to talk about it?"
"Ain't nothin' to talk about," Bobby muttered, "he left, not me."
"So it wasn't your fault at all?"
"I didn't do anything wrong!" Bobby tried and failed to keep his voice from raising just below a shout, "he's the one who burrowed into my life! It was fine, everything was fine, WE were fine, I don't know what his problem is." It wasn't a complete lie, it wasn't entirely the truth either though.
"You don't know why he left?" Rufus asked, his face shifting from scolding to almost sympathetic.
"I mean... I don't know..." Bobby trailed off, this was not a conversation he wanted to be having, especially not with Rufus.
"He thinks you're ashamed of him, Bobby," Rufus said, almost gently.
"I'm not!" Bobby threw his hands above his head, "he's just... always wanting to hold hands and touch in public, like he wants me to scream it from the roof tops..."
"I get where you're coming from," Rufus nodded at him, causing just a little bit of the weight in Bobby's chest to lessen, "you've never been one for public displays of affection. Still... that's pretty damn tactless even for you."
"Does this speech have a point?" Bobby growled, the weight in his chest coming back tenfold, "you seem to forget that you're defending a demon who, not a month ago, you threatened to vaporize with holy water if he so much as looked at me funny."
"An' I ain't taken that back, all I'm sayin' is cut the little dude some slack, 'kay, man?"
"He's a demon, Rufus," Bobby muttered, like that somehow made the situation less his own fault, as he dropped a lit match into the grave he'd almost forgotten was there.
"You just can't stop beatin' that horse, can you?" Rufus gave him an exasperated look out of the corner of his eye, "ain't like it's stopped you two from bumpin' uglies."
"Jesus Christ," Bobby ran his hands down his burning face, "yeah, because that's private. No gawkers."
"Right," Rufus rolled his eyes, "can't ruin what's left of your whisky soaked reputation. What're those gawkers gonna do, huh?" Rufus eyed him incredulously, his voice adopting a dangerous edge to it, "Yell obscenities at you? Maybe throw stones? Oh, I got it... they'll up and lynch the two of you for just holding hands."
"Whoa, now, what?" Bobby's eyes were wide, his hands raised out towards Rufus as some mean on defense, surprised by his friend's change in tone.
"No?" Rufus scowled, swatting Bobby's hand away, "Well I've got a news flash for you, Bob. Your boy Crowley? Betcha he grew up in a time where that's exactly what would happen."
At that, Rufus gave one last shake of his head before stalking off, "wouldn't even tell your own damn friend about it." Bobby heard him mutter before he was out of ear shot.
The guilt Bobby had felt before was nothing compared to what he felt now, and it was all he could do not to sink to his knees in front of the still smoldering grave.
-x-
Bobby sat at their usual booth in the diner, trying to keep his legs from shaking.
The night after their talk, Bobby had received a text from Rufus, telling him that Crowley was gathering some information for him and that he was sure that if he asked nicely, Crowley would meet up with him to deliver it.
So, after staring at his phone for what felt like hours, Bobby sent Crowley a text "Rufus said you have some information he asked for, wanna meet at the usual place?"
It wasn't the most heartfelt thing Bobby had ever said, but he had decided it would be best to apologize in person. He hadn't had to wait long before his phone dinged with a new message: "see you there."
So there Bobby sat, ringing his hands together, trying to quiet the erratic beating of his heart, when he heard the bell above the door sound. A moment later, Crowley slid into the seat opposite him.
He took a second to take in the sight of the man before him. His suit was immaculate, as per usual, not a single wrinkle to be found. His face, however, was a slightly different story. Crowley's eyes were slightly red around the edges and sunken in, like he hadn't rested properly in quite a while. The sight caused a painful tug in Bobby's chest.
"Well, as promised, location of the Shellycoat haunting the Raccoon River." Crowley said, a tight smile across his face as he slid a piece of paper across the table with a single finger, like he didn't want to get too close.
"And you didn't just kill it. Why?" Bobby asked, his brain racking for the right thing to say, the right way to apologize.
"Grunt work's your job, pet," Crowley shrugged, not quite meeting Bobby's eyes, his finger still pressing the paper into the table, like it was the only thing keeping him from leaving.
Bobby stared at that hand, focusing on it, remembering all the times Crowley just wanted to hold his hand only to have Bobby snatch it away.
"Besides, most Shellycoats are harmless,"
Crowley was rambling now, nervous energy showing in the way his smile twitched downwards just for a moment between words. Bobby wanted to wipe that fake smile from his face, he wanted to replace it with a real one, with the warm smile he had ignored so many times, "A might devious, but they don't kill normally."
Crowley lifted his hand up from it nearly white knuckles press into the table, punctuating his point with an open palm. Bobby stared at that hand, suddenly coming to a decision.
"So, you're..." Crowley trailed off as Bobby's hand lifted from his lap to met his own, fingers clasping around his hand in such a comforting way that Crowley was worried for a moment that he was dreaming.
"Bobby..." his voice wavered unsteadily, his eyes growing just slightly wet, "you alright?"
Bobby looked up at the man across from him, and, seeing the joy guarded just under a veil of worry, realized he was just as sure of what he wanted now as he had been when he'd asked Karen to prom all those years ago.
"Apparently I'm an uneducated caveman," Bobby laughed warmly, bring his other hand up to set it on top of their clasped fingers.
"You're just now noticing?" Crowley smiled lovingly, and Bobby, for the first time, soaked in all the affection in his voice.
