***Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or its characters. If I did, it would be a much different show and probably aired at three a.m. on Showtime.


Unspoken

Crowley was up to something, Gabriel didn't have any doubt about that. He was acting more distant than normal. (It was something that you had to get used to when you were in an arrangement with the King of Hell.) The problem was actually getting anything out of him was like, well, trying to get Crowley to tell you something he didn't want you to know. Gabriel was determined and if anyone was ever a match for the demon it was the archangel. He was sitting on the kitchen counter top, legs dangling, just like he had the first time he had 'broken into' the house as Crowley put it. That seemed so long ago and he had been around since The Beginning. Before his mind could go down that depressing line of thought, Gabriel heard a familiar exhale of breath.

"What a day I've had," Crowley said, leaning against the wall as if he couldn't really stand on his own anymore. No one else would have noticed; they would have seen it as indifference, maybe, but Gabriel saw the slight sag of his shoulders and twitch of his eye.

"I wouldn't know seeing how you don't tell me about it."

It wasn't that Gabriel didn't care. It was opposite. That was why he crossed his arms and pulled the face which at any other time would've made Crowley remark that he was spending too much time with the youngest Winchester. Crowley just looked at him, lips pressed together.

"Please, darling, do we have to do this now?" Now meaning at all by the hand Crowley swept across his brow. Gabriel pushed himself down from the counter. He paced the kitchen; Crowley's narrowed eyes following him.

"Yes, we're going to do this now. If we don't do it now we're never going to do it. Because that's how we do things!" His hand motions were exaggerated. Crowley shoved off the wall with his elbow and sighed. There was no dealing with the angel when he was like this.

"Gabriel." The tone in his voice made Gabriel stop.

"I deserve to know what's going on," he said before Crowley could say whatever he was going to say. Probably he would have launched into one of his smooth speeches designed to distract Gabriel from whatever he didn't want to deal with. It was Crowley's typical defense.

They stood there in the kitchen silently staring at each other. Gabriel's arms were crossed once more, bottom jaw stuck out and chewing on his lip. Crowley had his hands in his pockets but by the set of his shoulders Gabriel knew his fists were clenched. Words had never been their strong suit. Both of them had survived by keeping things from those around them; it was a hard habit to break. Their relationship was built on nuances that you couldn't help but pick up on after so long. The way Crowley would tilt his head, corner of his mouth twitching into a smile that told Gabriel he was happy despite whatever he was saying. The way Gabriel (always more open with his affections) would rest his chin on Crowley's shoulder and breathe in his scent like he was trying to remember it forever and Crowley would know that he was loved.

Except now the tension in the room practically crackled and sparked.

"You don't want to know, darling. Besides, you're always going on about how boring my shoptalk is." The smile on Crowley's face was tight, not reaching his eyes. Any other time Gabriel would have taken this a clear sign that maybe he wanted to rethink this line of questioning, didn't he? But not now after he had put so much of himself into this – whatever this was since they never defined it because defining it would've made it real.

"Oh, shut up, Crowles. It's not just shoptalk. You're up to something. You're keeping something from me." He let his arms fall to his side, fingers loose. Gabriel didn't need to say how much it was hurting him. Crowley was studiously examining the kitchen ceiling but the twitching of his eye had returned. Finally he looked back to the angel.

"Please. Gabriel, I'm asking you to stop." Crowley had raised his hands, palms towards Gabriel who knew that he had all but won at this point. The demon was good at keeping up appearances. No one else would have known what the set of his shoulders or the partially open mouth meant. Gabriel knew it was defeat, pain, but he pressed on anyway.

"What are you up to, Crowley?" Gabriel hated to do it. He didn't want to hurt him but he was going to.

"Your brothers are dead set on re-starting the Apocalypse. They're having themselves a little civil war right now."

Gabriel narrowed his eyes, head tipped to the side, and Crowley braced himself.

"And what are you doing? I thought you didn't like to get involved in the affairs of angels," he spat.

"Kind of hard to avoid when you're shagging one." It was meant to deflect but considering the fact Gabriel slammed him against the wall, he was guessing that it didn't work.

"What. Are. You. Doing." Most people probably would have preferred to deal with an angel than a demon which was a bloody stupid thing in Crowley's opinion. Anyone who would prefer to deal with Crowley's wrath than Gabriel's probably deserved it.

"Castiel. He's going up against Raphael and you know he won't win without my help." Crowley gripped Gabriel's wrists. He wasn't trying to pull them away, just trying to hold on.

"Don't tell me you're stupid enough to trust him? Come on, Crowley! The moment he doesn't need you, he'll destroy you. You know that!"

"What else was I supposed to do? Let them burn the world with their sibling rivalry? Risk another Elysian Fields?" Crowley shouted, trying to shove him back. More than anything he hated being made vulnerable and Gabriel knew that he had succeeded in doing just that with the mention of Elysian Fields. He was torn. Anger made him tighten his grasp on Crowley's shirt and sympathy made his eyes soften. When he had come back after that night, weeks later, it was to Crowley smelling distinctly of liquor and a bed that hadn't been slept in since Gabriel had left it with the sheets half off.

"That's exactly why you should stay out of it! Do you know how lucky I was? Crowley. They will kill you. You're just a demon to them." Their faces were less than an inch apart, bodies tensed, as they both tried to anticipate what would happen next. If past behavior was an indicator then it was reasonable to assume that one of them would run. It was an unspoken fear they shared; that things would get too intense, too serious, and one day there would be an empty space in the bed that was rapidly cooling. And that would be it.

"I know what I am. I don't need you to tell me. What are you?" They were so good at hurting each other. If you knew the landscape of a person's heart, you knew the best place to dig the knife into.

"You arrogant son of a bitch…" Gabriel tipped his head up, eyes searching Crowley's face for a moment. Behind the mask Crowley kept firmly in place, he saw pain and fear and anger and love. It was in the set of his jaw. The slight down turn of his mouth. The flaring of his nostrils. The softness of the lines around his eyes. It could have been a mirror of Gabriel's face. He kissed Crowley hard and put all that emotion into it. Crowley's head knocked against the wall, jarring him and sending pain down his neck. Gabriel only pushed into him harder. Crowley was trapped between the wall and the angel; he dug his nails into his wrist wanting to cause pain even as he pulled Gabriel closer. Gabriel didn't stop the kiss until he tasted blood.

"Hit a nerve, did I, love?" Crowley said with a smirk. By way of response, Gabriel pulled back and spun the demon around to slam him face first into the wall.

"I'm trying to save you. Don't you get that?" he growled into his ear. Gabriel twisted his hand in Crowley's hair, pulling his head back to suck and bite on the flesh of his neck.

"And what do you think I'm doing?" Crowley's voice was low and throaty. His fingers worked their way down Gabriel's wrist to lace with the angel's fingers.

It was all unspoken. The words they were saying were just a prologue to what the actions meant. Gabriel working down both their pants never once letting go of Crowley's hand; never once stopping the harsh kisses he placed over any exposed skin his mouth could reach. Crowley taunting him constantly even as he let Gabriel bend him over the kitchen table. The rough thrust into the demon that Gabriel countered with a soft kiss. Crowley pushing back into him even as his free hand clawed at the table to steady himself. Gabriel's movements that bordered on frenzied while he stroked Crowley's hair. Everything, every action from the smallest touch of a finger against skin to a hard bite on a shoulder, had a hundred things they could never put into words contained in it.

There was Crowley, letting Gabriel control him; being completely vulnerable and submissive which was the one thing that he feared. And Gabriel for once was taking control of a situation that scared him instead of running away like he always had before. It was in the rocking of the table each time Crowley's hips hit into it. It was in the hot press of their palms together as Gabriel thrust into him one last time and lay shuddering against Crowley's back. Neither of them had to say it as they slid down to the floor, arms around each other.

They had said that they loved each other in so many different ways. The words were just redundant.