A/N: This fic is a gift for my good friend, LilyAnson. Mooseley isn't really one of my ships but I had fun writing it and I hope Lori and the rest of you Mooseley shippers enjoy it. I didn't originally intend to basically write PWP but that's pretty much all that came to mind, especially as I was running out of time. It's not particually canon, though I think it could be read that way, if you want.
When Crowley entered the throne room and saw the brightly decorated Christmas tree, he froze. Standing there surrounded by humid stone he just stared at the thing, confused and somewhat bewildered. He hadn't had a Christmas tree before, he'll he'd bared had a Christmas. He was about to yell for Hus demons to demand answers when a familiar high pitched voice drifted from the far wall.
"Don't you like it, sweetie?" His mother asked, her whiny tone grating against his bones.
Crowley turned to stare at her, brow rising. "I'm a demon and you're a witch, we're not exactly known for our religious celebrations, Mother."
Rowena scoffed a laugh and stepped forward, the train of her sleek black gown dragging behind her. "Christmas stopped being about religion years ago. You know that."
Crowley regarded her cautiously for a second or three before continuing to make his way to the throne, ignoring his mother, and the tree. Making himself comfortable he reached for the pile of parchments on the small table to his right and began to riffle through them. The sound of his mother's feet scurrying across the floor in front his him like an itch in his mind.
"Fergus, don't you want to open your present?" she asked, crouching down to retrieve a small wrapped box from beneath the pine branches.
Crowley gritted his teeth and tried to focus on his paper work, even as he watched his mother's movements out of the corner of his eye. "Not particually." he muttered, though he couldn't ignore the small spark of curiosity. "Knowing you, it's probably a trick to try and kill me."
"Fergus!" Rowena gasped, looking up at him with wide shocked eyes. She pressed the box against her chest and looked hurt. "We've been through this, Fergus, I want to make up for all the wrong I've done to ya." she stepped up to the throne and held out the small wrapped box, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "This is just one of many, sweetheart." she nodded to the pile of gifts beneath the tree.
Crowley stared up at her sceptically, eyes narrowed. He didn't trust her, not one bit. She'd already tried to escape one. - However there was still that little part of him, that little boy in him that was desperate for his mother's love and approval.
Setting the papers down, Crowley looked at the box, tilting his head to examine it from a distance. It looked like a normal wrapped Christmas gift, nothing particually suspicious. "What is it?" he asked curiously.
Rowena smiled shakily. "This one first. It's just somethin' small, and fun."
Crowley didn't trust her, especially when she was watching him like that, but neither could he deny the small seed of excitement and happiness that laid in his heart at the prospect of his mother finally gifting him with something. - Something that wasn't centuries of bitterness and pain.
Examining the box a little more closely he frowned, gaze occasionally flickering up to check on his mother. He gave the gift a viceroys shake close to his ear, and frowned as it made a very small rattling sound against the side of the cardboard box. Fixing his Rowena with a suspicious stare he slowly peeled at the wrapping paper until a small blank black box.
He tossed the paper aside and stretched his palm to grip the lid, easing it off slowly. He finally tore his gaze from his mother and peered down to find a layer of black tissue paper. Flinging the lid to join the discarded paper he peeled away the tissue paper and frowned, his heart skipping.
His eyes shot up to his mother, who was stood there looking utterly innocent, except she couldn't be, not with what he held in his hand. He had one question on the tip of his tongue. How did she know? No one knew, he'd worked hard to make sure no one knew. Even thrown a red herring out there so no one would ever suspect. He opened his mouth to demand an answer, while his fingers reached into the box of their own accord, wrapping around the warm plastic figuring.
And then the world went dark.
\-*∆*-/
Sam was startled from the first peaceful night's sleep he'd had in weeks when his bed shock suddenly. Reacting with the calm and fluidity that came from years of hunting, Sam smoothly rolled from the bed, grabbing Hus weapon on the way and sprang to his feet, turning with his gun raised to face the ...whatever.
The whatever turned out to be Crowley, stretched out on his bed and unconscious. With his chest heaving he took a small step closer, frowning down at the prone figure. In the demon's hand was a toy, it looked like an action figure, kind of. A little more bulky than the power ranger figures he'd had as a kid.
Taking another step forward, and with his weapon still trained on the man, Sam reached of the object, wrestling it from Crowley's palm and holding it up to the lamplight.
His heart did an odd double skip when he recognized it. Or at least recognized who it was meant to be. - Him. It was a model of him. Sam's gaze shot over the bed to Crowley, who was still out cold. A thousand questions fluttered across his mind, rolling around like a bowling ball in an empty garbage truck. Giving him a headache.
But there was one question among the oceans of queries. Did Crowley knows?
Swallowing thickly Sam set the figurine on the nightstand and knelt on the bed beside Crowley as if physical drawn to him. He knelt on the mattress, his bare knees brushing against the fabric of the demon's black jacket. He stared down at him, his heart pounding, his eyes scanning the man's features. He looked peaceful, at rest and it made Sam's chest tightened.
He hated himself for the warm wave of desire that rolled though him as he watched the man sleep. Despite his occasional habit of doing the right thing, usually for his own sake, Sam could never forgive him for Sara. Which made being attracted to the man a nightmare. It was hard to hate a person with a blazing fire while wanting to bury yourself inside them and kiss the life from their lungs.
Shaking his head, Sam scrambled off the bed and around to the end of the bed, glancing at the door with consideration. Should he call Dean? Looking back at the unconscious demon he decided to find out what was going on first.
Lifting his foot, Sam kicked at Crowley's foot repeatedly until the man eventually stirred. His dark lashes fluttering open and his brows creasing in confusion.
"Where the bloody hell am I?" he all but yelled and Sam flinched, glancing at the bedroom door briefly.
"At the bunker," Sam announced, weapon raised at the man as Crowley pushed himself up to sit. "The more important question is how the hell you got here, and why you're in my bed."
Crowley stared at him with a look of ignorance, then down at the bed, rubbing at his head. "Mother." he seethed under his breath.
"What?"
Crowley said nothing, scrambling off the mattress and shaking his head. "Late Moose." he said, but nothing happened.
Sam lifted an expectant brow and waited for the demon to vanish, but nothing happened. Crowley was still there, as if stick. "You're still here."
"I can see that, thank you, Samantha." Crowley growled, gritting his teeth in that way he did when angry, and closed his eyes. His brows crumpled and his face creased like a new-born baby, going just as red.
Sam almost laughed, lowering his weapon to watch. "Still here." he snorted.
Crowley's eyes snapped open and glowered at him, bleeding demonic red for a second before clearing. He marched furiously to the door, grumbling. "It's probably your damn warding." he reached for the handle, yanking the door open and lifting his foot to step over it, only to freeze.
Sam frowned. "Well?"
Crowley inhaled deeply and tried the other foot but was unable to make it cross the threshold. He yelled angrily, swing his leg to kick. Crowley's foot connected with something, and pained wail came from him. Sam hurried closer, brows tightly drawn together. Crowley hopped to the side, dropping down on the leather couch and grabbed his foot.
Sam shook his head, and looked at the door. Taking a step forward, hand out stretched he felt the barrier. It seemed to pulse against his palm and he pushed harder. It didn't move. Turning on Crowley, he lifted his gun at the man. "What did you do?"
Crowley looked up at him with that tired, you're-an-idiot glare. "I didn't do anything, moron! I'm trapped here too!" he waved his hand at his current situation. "Obviously Rowena did something," he seethed, "I'll kill her."
"Rowena?" Sam frowned,
Crowley pinched his lips together, gaze flickering up to the vents. He opened his mouth, intending to abandon his meat-suit, but nothing happened. He growled like a vicious cornered animal and yelled at the ceiling. "Mother!"
Sam's mother dropped open. "Mother? Is...Rowena you're...mother? Wait, you have a mother?" he scratched at his head.
Crowley turned on him, face red with frustration and rolled his eyes. "Of course I have a mother, I wasn't always a demon. - Call Dean and Castiel, they can get us out of here!"
"So your mother is... - Wait, is your mother still alive? Is she...a demon too?"
"Priorities Samantha!" he snapped warily, pointing at the door.
Sam nodded and turned to the door, lowering his gun and stepping up close to the barrier. Taking a deep breath he yelled as loud as he could. "DEAN!" he waited, counting the seconds while listening intently for his brother's footsteps. After a minute, there was still no sign of Dean, Sam tried again.
Five minutes later it became very clear that no one could hear them. Huffing with a frustration that was predictably shared by Crowley. He strolled hurriedly over to his nightstand and grabbed his cell. Turning around, he swiped though his contacts for Dean's number and hit call, leaning back against the small table as he waited.
All he got was dead air. Nothing. Not even a recorded message. Lowering the cell, he tried again. Nothing.
Sam looked up, meeting Crowley's gaze and shook his head. "Looks like we'll have to wait for Dean to come looking." glancing at the time on his phone display, he sigh. "In another few hours."
"Hours?"
Sam shrugged, tossing the cell on the bed. "It is 5 am, and he and Cass were up late watching Christmas movies."
Crowley scoffed, making himself more comfortable on the couch. "I bet they were."
\-*∆*-/
Crowley slouched back against the couch, staring at the wall and not Sam. He couldn't believe his mother had done this. Whatever this was. He should have listened to his instincts. He'd known she was up to something. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Sam stretching out on the bed, his too long legs crossed at the ankles, naked and almost glowing a warm gold in the lamplight. He'd spend more nights than he'd care to admit fantasizing about those legs.
"What's the point of this?" Sam said, startling Crowley.
"What?" he snapped, clearing his throat?
"You said your mother did this, why?"
Crowley shrugged, "I have no idea?" he confessed honestly. He couldn't think what she'd get from locking him in a room with Sam Winchester. She couldn't use it as a distraction to escape, he'd made sure everyone knew just what would happen if she got away.
"She must be up to something."
"Obviously. - She's a manipulative, scheming witch." he grumbled, standing to shrug out of his jacket and loosen his tie. "Is it always this hot in here?"
Sam frowned at him, shaking his head. "No." his fingers reached for the collar of his t-shirt, tugging at it lightly.
Crowley licked at his lips, it felt like the room was slowly succumbing to a blaze. He was beginning to feel the sweat prickle on his forehead and back. Tugging the tie right off, he fiddled with the top three buttons of his silk shirt. Looking over at Sam he noticed that the hunter was beginning to feel the heat too.
Sam sat forward, reaching behind him to grip the back of his t-shirt and drag it over his head, exposing his flush tone chest to Crowley's heavy gaze. The demon's heart began to race and his dick stirred, making him uncomfortable.
Crowley turned his back to the hunter adjusting himself. He needed to get out of there, before he goes insane. Gritting his teeth, he took a deep breath through his nose. The heat of his body was getting unbearable and his unfastened the remaining buttons of his shirt, stripping it from his skin and tossing it on the sofa.
"I don't suppose you have any water in this box?" He grumbled, not turning to face the half-naked Adonis behind him.
"God, I wish." Sam sighed, his voice dry and rough.
The sound didn't make it any easier for Crowley to get himself under control. He glanced down to the bulge in his trousers. Reaching down, Crowley cupped himself, rubbing lightly. It took all his self-control to hold back a moan of frustrated pleasure.
"What has she done?" Sam asked, voice husky and too close.
Crowley turned sharply to stare up at the practically naked younger man. The golden light of the lamp shimmering off his sweat sleeked shoulders and arms. Crowley dragged his tongue across his dry lips and swallowed convulsively.
Sam towered over him, the heat from his body wrapping around Crowley despite the gap between them, fuelling the desire in the pit of his stomach. All the exposed flesh making his palms itch. When he looked up into Sam gaze, his breath caught at the heavy lids and blown pupils. There was no way Sam Winchester wanted him the way he'd spent two years wanting the hunter. It was just too fantastical to be real. Obviously his mother's spell had something to do with it.
It only went to show how much he'd changed. Once upon a time he'd have taken full advantage of the situation to get what he wanted, and damn the consequences, or Sam's feelings. Now though, since he'd been dragged to the brink of humanity by Sam Winchester, he could bring himself to let the spell rake its course.
He opened his mouth to tell Sam to back up, but was cut off by the Hunter's long fingers grazing over the hit flesh of his shoulder, tracing the dark black lines of his tattoo.
"I didn't know you had these?" He whispered, voice thick and erotic.
Crowley cleared his throat, at a loss for words. Centuries of well-crafted sarcasm evaporating like snow on a hotplate.
Sam's fingers continued to move over the intricate lines and swirls, sparking a layer of goose-bumps to erupt across the demon's arms and back. He sucked in a breath, hands trembling at his sides. "Moose." He groaned, long and low.
Sam stepped closer and Crowley's breathing grew increasingly laboured. "I have an overwhelming desire to..." The hunter whispered, breathe playing across Crowley's face as he leant forward. "It's just the magic. Nothing more." Sam added breathlessly, his large hand gliding up to grip Crowley's nap in an almost painful vice grip. "Don't get any ideas."
"You're forgetting who you're talking to Winchester." Crowley grunted back, eyes narrowed and heart clenching tight with rejection. "You're the bleeding heart around here, Saman..."
He was cut off by Sam's mouth defending almost violently down onto his. Crowley moaned into the hot recesses of Sam's open mouth and stretched up to wrap his fingers in the young man's sweat damp hair.
They stood like that for a moment, off-kilter and desperate. Sam's nail's clawing at the older man's skin, while Crowley tugged at his hair. Their tongues sliding against one another. Teeth hitting hard at each other's lips.
Sam's height was making things awkward and uncomfortable, especially where Crowley's dick was concerned. So it wasn't unexpected when Sam moved them to the bed, sitting on the edge. It bought them particually to the same height, but that wasn't enough for Crowley, who forced Sam back a little further so he could crawl and kneel over him. With the adjustments complete, the pair went back to kissing roughly, clawing at one another's flesh, and finally grinding against each other.
Despite knowing it was simply due to his mother's vicious spell, Crowley couldn't help but feel proud at the feel of Sam's hard cock pressing against his thigh. He shifted his leg between Sam's and pressed hard, causing the hunter to rut desperately.
When Sam rolled his head back to moan, Crowley took his opportunity to suck and bite at the long column of tanned skin, determinedly sucking a dark bruise. A thrill went through him at the idea of Sam carrying his mark around for days, having to hide it from Dean and Castiel, or face the questions. Crowley grinned against Sam's neck, and ran his hand over the smooth plans of the hunter's chest and abdomen. Sam's muscles fluttered beneath his touch.
"Like that do we?"
Sam moaned, his right hand reaching to grope at Crowley's arse, squeezing it hard and pulling the demon more firmly against him. The fingers of his other hand wrapped around Crowley's wrist and forced his hand down between them, into the elasticated waist of his shorts. Crowley's stopped sucking and buried his face in the Winchester's shoulder, groaning at the feel of the younger man's thick, hot length.
He curled his fingers around it, stroking in slow but firm movements. Sam panted and thrust up beneath him.
After a minute or so, Sam let out a frustrated growl and pressed his left palm into Crowley's tattooed shoulder and shoving him off to the side, forcing him to roll onto his back. Crowley went without protest, his hand slipping from Sam's shorts.
Starring up at Sam was more erotic than his fantasies could ever be. Crowley folded his hands behind his head and just watched the hunter stared down at him, heavy lids and blown pupils screaming at the desire and lust swirling inside the younger man. If Crowley wasn't fully aware of the circumstances, he might even believe it was real. That this Adonis of a man actually wanted him. Of course that was ridiculous, no one ever wanted him. No one ever loved him. It was how he'd ended up in hell in the first place.
Shaking his head to dislodge the thoughts, he stretched to grab at Sam's nap, pulling him down into a dirty kiss. He decided that if a fake tryst under the influence of magic was all he'll ever get, then he was at least going to make the most of it. He had plausible deniability on his side.
Curling his fingers in Sam's long strands he pulled back from the kiss, smirking darkly up at the hunter. Sam narrowed his gaze, which only made Crowley more excited. Tightening his fingers a little more, Crowley pushed on the top of Sam's head, forcing him down his body to where his cock was pressing insistently at his trousers, creating a rather impressive bulge.
Sam went down easy, much to Crowley's surprise. The hunter's fingers working at the belt, button and zipper until he was able to peel back the dark fabric to release Crowley's imprisoned member. When Sam looking up at him, brow raised at the revelation Crowley went commando, the demon grinned wide and wicked.
His breath caught as Sam opened his mouth, tongue slipping out to glide up the underside of Crowley's length, before closing completely around the head. He groaned, head rolling back against the mattress and hips thrusting up, only to be anchored firmly in place a moment later by Sam's large hands.
"Bugger!" Crowley swore breathlessly, eyes closed tight when Sam began to suck, the slick hollow moving up and down in a slow torturous rhythm. "A-any-one would t-think you'd done this b-before, M-moooooose," he moaned loudly.
Sam hummed around him, increasing his pace for a few seconds before slowing again. Drawing out the pleasure and frustration Crowley was feeling. The demon let himself go, enjoying the feel of the hunter's mouth. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd had sex? I had certainly been a while. The chaos of life post Lucifer getting in the way of his own desires. He'd considered propositioning Dean during their wild six months, but it had felt weird. - Though it was certainly fun letting Cas and Sam think more had happened during their 'friendship' that had actually occurred. Especially when he saw the hard dangerous look in Sam's gaze whenever he and Dean were in the same room. Of course that was solely down to Sam's fears of losing his brother. It had nothing to do with jealousy.
"Fuck it Winchester!" Crowley yelled when Sam gave a particually long hard suck, and yanked on the man's hair.
Sam let the hard cock fall from his lips and grinned up at the demon, leaning forward to drag his pre-cum stained tongue up the man's stomach and through the hair that covered Crowley's bulky chest. "As a matter of fact," Sam said, voice wrecked and hoarse. "I have."
Crowley's eyes widened with surprise. "Got to say, Moose, I didn't see that coming." he scoffed breathlessly. "Dean, yeah, but not you."
Sam smirked, capturing the demon's mouth in a deep kiss. When pushed himself up over Crowley, biceps straining beneath his huge build. "I've done other things too." he whispered, licking at his lips and making Crowley squirm with pleasure.
"Oh?"
Sam nodded, gaze travelling down the older man's body to where his cock lay abandoned and leaking on his stomach. "So how do you want to do this?"
Crowley lifted a brow, momentarily confused. Was Sam Winchester seriously suggesting what he thought he was suggesting. "Ah?"
Sam looked at him, lips stretched wickedly. "Wow, are you actually lost for words? It's a fucking miracle. If I'd known blowing you would fry your brain, I would have done it sooner."
Crowley gasped for a second, before shaking himself out of his shock. "If I'd have known you were that good at it, I'd have made you."
"Made me?" Sam pressed, "You think you could make me do anything?"
"I'm making you now, aren't I?"
Sam shook his head, "You're mother is making Me." he muttered, swallowing thickly and swiping at hand through his damp hair. "But if it weren't for whatever spell she'd put on us, you couldn't make me do anything."
Crowley stared at him amused, "I made you, and your idiot brother do a lot of things when you were soulless, Sam." his eyes travelled down the long expanse of the Winchester's body. "God, I should have..."
"What?" Sam growled, leaning forward, "What should you have done?"
Crowley narrowed his eyes at the man, lifting his legs to wrap around the hunter's hips and used his supernatural strength to flip them, so he was straddling him. He lent forward, palms braced either side of Sam's head. "I'd have used my table for a lot more than torturing that bitch Meg." he said quietly. He looked down the length of Sam's body, shifting back to feel the press of Sam's own hard cock against his arse cheeks, moaning. "Fuckin' hell, I'd have strapped you down and ridden you dry."
Sam's breath hitched and his hips jerked up against Crowley's arse, grunting his approval. Crowley rocked back against him, leaning down to press his lips to the hunter's ear. "Maybe I'd have chained you to my floor and fucked your mouth until you passed out." he dragged his thumb across Sam's lower lip, dripping it inside when Sam opened up to him.
Sam sucked on it, and Crowley closed his eyes, dropping his head to suck on against as Sam's throat, bring a second bruise to the surface. All the while Sam's hips rocked against him.
"You know what I wanted when you had me chained in that dungeon of yours?" Crowley asked, lust loosening his tongue. "I wanted you to sneak down there," he whispered into Sam's head, his hand sneaking around to pinch at Sam's nipple. "In the middle of the night, and throw me over that table, and fuck me hard and angry."
Sam groaned.
"It was part of the reason I was being so difficult. I was hoping to push you to your limit."
"Fuck, I thought about it." Sam confessed, grinding hard against Crowley's arse.
Crowley's heart skipped at the revelation and he drew back to stare at the man. "Really?"
Sam nodded, face red and eyes dark. "When I wasn't imagining coming down there and riding you." he moaned, "Using you for my own pleasure. Chained to that chair. Fuck I got off so many nights to that thought."
Crowley whined, diving in to kiss him brutally again.
"Fuck me." Sam groaned, "I mean it, fuck Me." he thrusting his hips invitingly.
"Are you serious?" Crowley asked, suddenly hesitate to take advantage of the situation. He made to move away, only for Sam's fingers to grip at his shoulder, holding him still.
"It's been too long." Sam muttered, regret in his tone. "I..." he shook his head. "I want it." he paused staring up at Crowley.
It took Crowley a few seconds to get his head back on straight. The idea that Sam wanted to be fucked was incredible enough, but that Sam wanted him to do it was almost too much to get his head around. "It's just magic." weird around his head, "It's not real." and yet Sam had never looked more sure of himself.
Nodding slowly, Crowley shifted to kick his trousers the rest of the way off, toeing off his shoes in the process so it all ended up in a tangled pile next to the bed.
"Top drawer." Sam muttered, moving further up the bed and grabbing a pillow. He slid it beneath his hips and folded his arms behind his head.
Crowley scrambled to the nightstand and yanked open the drawer, swiping the bottle of lubricate and the stripe of condoms. He looked at the silver and blue packaging, then over at Sam before tossing them back into the drawer. If this was his only time with Sam friggin' Winchester, he was going to enjoy it.
Crawling back over to Sam, he positioned himself between the man's spread legs. Looking up to see the young hunter watching him, face flushed and half debauched, despite doing little more than foreplay.
Flipping the cap on the bottle Crowley coated his fingers literally and then poured a generous amount down between Sam's firm are cheeks. Sam hissed at the coldness of the liquid.
"Don't worry moose, I'll warm it up." He promised seductively, tossing the bottle aside and lowering his fingers to Sam's hole.
Crowley focused all his attention on his fingers. Enchanted by the sight of Sam's puckered entrance sucking the digit in, as if starving for it. A deep moan of pleasure drew his attention, and when he looked up he found Sam striking himself, eyes locked on him. It wasn't only the most erotic sight he'd seen in almost a decade, but was also the most beautiful.
He'd always considered Sam beautiful. From the first time he'd set eyes on him. Probably more beautiful than Bridget ever was. If he were honest, he'd hoped Sam would be the one asking for a deal when Lucifer was dragging them all towards Armageddon, regretfully it had been Bobby.
And while he may be a demon, the idea of taking advantage of Sam when it became clear he had no soul had never appealed. Though whether that was out of fear for what a soulless Sam would do if he'd tried, or because he'd genuinely respected the kid enough not to, hr still wasn't sure.
With his finger gliding smoother and smoother with each thrust, he moved on to two fingers, dropping his gaze again to watch them being swallowed up by the delicious are.
Crowley briefly imagined going to town on that arse. Could almost see the red streaks from his hand. The feel of the orbs between his teeth. The taste of Sam on his tongue.
If this weren't a onetime thing, he'd come back again and again to lose himself in this spectacular are, until everything was forgotten but for him and Sam.
Sweat rolled down his spine and he gritted his teeth at the pressure building inside him. Sam was babbling on about his own desire, his own pleasure, but Crowley could barely hear him over the hammering of his heart in his ears.
Two fingers became three and Crowley wrapped his free hand around his straining cock, stroking in time with his thrusts.
"Fuck." Sam groaned, "Son of a bitch. If you don't hurry up, I'm cumming without you." He warned.
Crowley smirked, shifting back so he can wrap his lips around the head of Sam leaking cock. Lapping at the pre-cum, while still trusting his fingers in and out. Sam shined and gasped, and moaned, louder and louder. Unable to take it any longer, Crowley removed his mouth and fingers, shuffling forward once again until he could guild his slick cock into place against Sam's hole.
He didn't watch his cock vanishing inside the long tanned body, instead watching Sam's face crumple and relax as he took in inch after inch. The Hunter's eyes were shut, his head arched back against the mattress and his fingers gripping tightly at the sheets. When there was only a few more inches left Crowley snapped his hips, burying himself deep inside with a single thrust, and drawing the most unbelievable noise from Sam's throat.
The he paused, allowing Sam a moment to adjust to his length. Ever since he'd become a demon, Crowley had only possessed men with an above average cock size. Never anything too ridiculous, but enough to pleasure his bed mates when he took them. He looked at Sam's flushed member laying forgotten on his stomach. If he weren't interesting in fucking Sam, he'd happy possess him.
His mind trailered off for a moment, imagining what they could get up together. The men and women they could seduce. The thought briefly triggered the fantasy of a threesome with some attractive woman.
"Hey?" Sam snapped, tightening internal muscles around him. "Am I boring you?"
Crowley lifted a brow, "And if I said yes?"
Sam glowered at him. "Fuck you."
"Maybe next time Winchester, right now I'm going to try and get some enjoyment out of this."
"Next ti..."
Crowley gave a hard thrust, driving deep into Sam and punching the air from the hunter's lungs. He set a punishing pace, his fingers biting into Sam's hips as he slammed relentlessly into him. The room quickly filled with the aroma of sex, the heat practically boiling them alive from the inside hot, but it didn't stop them.
Sam for with the program quickly, rocking back into each of Crowley's thrusts. Their combined moans and gasps echoed off the beige walls. A dark part if Crowley wished the room hadn't been magically sound proofed, the idea of Dean and Castiel running to Sam's rescue only to find the young Winchester crying out with ecstasy while Crowley fucked him like a mad man drove him on, harder and faster.
Sam's body was blanketed in sweat, the lamp light glistening off the small pools that had filled in the valleys of Sam's muscled chest and stomach. Crowley stretched his arm, dragging his palm down the man's lower body, the sweat gathering against his hand.
Sam grabbed at his wrist, forcing it down to his cock and Crowley couldn't help but chuckle, giving in and wrapping his hand around the length.
"Ah, god, fuck," Sam panted, his hips jerking in Crowley grasp. "Should have done this years ago. Fuck!"
"I know. Fuck it Winchester, you're so tight and fuuuuck, I wish this wasn't just magic."
"Me too." Sam moaned, back arching as he came. Ropes of white cum painting his chest and Crowley's hand.
Crowley's fingers tightened on Sam's hip, bruise the flesh as the hunter's body clamped down on him, drawing his orgasm out of him. With another couple of thrust came, buried as deep as he can go and painting Sam's insides with his cum.
Sated and spent Crowley collapsed forward onto Sam. Both their hearts pounding as they waited to return to earth, and reality.
\-*∆*-/
Sam stared up at the ceiling, his heart racing and his head spinning. That had been beyond his wildest dreams. It had been too long since he'd let himself go like that, and he couldn't deny that it had a lot to do with it being Crowley. It was rare to find someone he didn't have to hide from, didn't have to pretend with. Someone he knew wouldn't judge him. The last person he'd felt that safe and comfortable with was Gabriel, though it hadn't lasted long. - And neither would this. Not one the magic wore off.
His body was growing cooler by the second causing him to shiver.
"You alright there Moose?" Crowley grumbled, sleepily.
Sam twisted to look at the demon. The man's eyes were closed and his features were relaxed once more. Sam let his gaze travel. From the dark rings beneath his eyes to his tattooed shoulder, and down Hus bulky hair coated chest to the flaccid cock laying against his thigh.
Licking at his lips, Sam rolled over onto his side and reached out. It was a risk, he knew, but if there was even a possibility that they could do this again, he was willing to take it. He carded his fingers through the soft chest hair, feeling the beat of the man's heart. - Or more accurately the heart of the man he was possessing. Sam shook that thought away, he didn't want to think about the poor soul Crowley was riding around in.
As his fingertips moved, Crowley turned his head, staring at him with a look of confusion and surprise. "Winchester?" He pressed quizzically.
Sam met his gaze, unflinching. He didn't speak, unsure what to say. How to ask or offer.
"Just magic?" Crowley asked quietly.
Sam inhaled deeply, shaking his head. A pregnant silence stretched between them, encompassing the room. Unspoken confessions suffocating him. His fingers played, mindless of the tension building. Catching occasionally on the drying cum that matted Crowley's chest hair.
When the silence was eventually broken it was by Crowley. The demon rolled onto his side, wriggling closer. "Merry Christmas, Sam." He whispered.
Sam swallowed, his breath catching. "Merry Christmas, Fergus." He replied, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to the man's dry lips.
A/N: And a Merry Christmas to you all. Hope you enjoyed this festive one-shot. And a very special Happy Holidays, and Thank You to my good friend LilyAnson who has helped me through many of these fics, and for cheering me on constantly. It is all greatly appreciated.
I hope everyone has a great and productive New Year, and let's hope it's better than this one.