Written for the Supernatural Rare Pairing Bang 2016.
A very special thank you goes to the great artist who drew the fan arts for my short story, nonexistenz!
Check out her works too on Tumblr and Ao3, because she's really amazing!
Disclaimer: The characters belong to their rightful owners.
Warning: This story contains male/male slash. Don't like, don't read!
It was a quiet sunny morning. The sky was clear for the first time in days and the sunrays warmed up the wet soil, slowly drying it. In the previous week it had rained almost every day, turning the earth in to mud and flooding the fields. Even the asphalt had started to crack under the seemingly endless pouring water. However, no one had complained too much about the awful weather, not after the wave of disasters that had devastated the whole country during the previous months and that had, luckily, stopped suddenly as it had started.
Bobby lifted his eyes from the shotgun he was cleaning, letting them lingering on the window for a brief while. Almost two months had passed since Sam had thrown himself in the Cage and Dean had given up hunting, disappearing somewhere in Indiana. Of course, the idiot had never lifted the phone to give him a call since then, but he couldn't blame him, not completely at least. He missed the boy, both of them actually, but he knew that Dean was trying hard to rebuild his life faraway from whom he had been raised for being and the best way to do it was burning every bridge that linked him to his past self, no matter how painful was. As for Sam, the man tried very hard not to think about what he could be suffering, locked away as he was at the mercy of two angelic bastards.
Pretending that nothing had changed was easier when he was on a job or was offering back up to some other hunter. He had even started hunting with Rufus again recently, and he would be lying to himself if he had stated that he didn't like the idea. They made a good team, in spite of their history. It was nice to be able to go back to the past in a way, when he still didn't have to worry about angels and apocalypses, when the demons were the sons of a bitch they were and weren't planning to unleash the Devil on Earth. Back then everything was simpler, even if not so much easier.
However, when he was home alone, not going after some monsters nor playing the role of someone's chief on the phone, not thinking about what had happened, about what had changed became almost impossible. In those moments he felt all the burden of his years, of all the loss he had had to face, of all the regrets he had. Sam and Dean were just a small part of it, but they were, together with his wife's death, the one that hurt the most.
Bobby sighed, shaking his head, and turned his his attention back on the weapon. He couldn't help thinking that those gloomy moods made him sound like an old fool. And maybe he was one after all, a little voice sang in the back of his head, making him snort. He should really stop letting his mind wander where it wanted and focus on what he was doing. Or he could leave that poor shotgun alone for a while and pour himself a glass of something strong. The latter was definitely the best idea.
He rested the weapon on the desk and got up, heading towards the kitchen to grab a clean glass. He had spent the first days after Dean had left tidying up the whole house and now it was almost as clean as it used to be when Karen was still around. He had wanted to consider stopping the Apocalypse a fresh start, at least for them, since almost all the rest of the world hadn't even acknowledged what they had done. He knew very well the sacrifices, the blood and the life that the whole mess had cost and he didn't want them to be vain. It was a symbolic way to underline the fact that a little something had changed, that the planet wasn't simply going on as if it had been untouched by the horror and the sorrow it had seen.
He picked up the half-full bottle of scotch that was rested on a wooden cabinet as he went back in the living room. He considered sitting once again at his desk, but in the end decided against it and leaned against the back of the couch. He still disliked staying seated for too much time, not after all the weeks he had spent in a wheelchair. The memories of the feeling of being unable to do most things that should be easy troubled him even now at times. And he had been forced to admit that if it hadn't been for that damned demon he would still be paralysed and fighting with the sense of uselessness.
He rolled his eyes and took a sip of his drink. He didn't know why Crowley had added that clause in their contract. It could be because he wanted to prove them that he was on their side, to gain a little of their trust, or to be sure that they wouldn't try to end him as soon as he had offered everything he could give them. Or maybe he had other mysterious motives and he would never know them. But one thing was sure: he hadn't believed that the demon had done that out of plain generosity, not even for a moment. And he had been proved right when he had summoned the bastard more than a month and half ago to get his soul back, just to receive a refuse and a close meeting with a huge hellhound as an answer. He had been tricked, not that the news had surprised him. He had made a deal with a demon after all. And yet, he had been really grateful for that unexpected gift at the time, and he still was, in spite of everything. He had resigned to the perspective of never lying his feet on the floor again and instead now he was back standing. He would have called it a miracle if he hadn't known who was behind it. And perhaps, it was better that way. He had learnt very well that the presents from Heaven were almost never free. At least when dealing with a demon you usually were informed of the price you had to pay.
The hunter emptied the glass and put it next to the bottle. He had better find something productive to do. There had to be a case somewhere, there was always. Perhaps he could give Rufus a ring and see if he had some job to do. He turned around to go and reach for the phone, but he found himself, face to face with a smirking Crowley. Bobby took one step back, caught off guard, his hand instinctively reaching for the gun secured to his hip, making the grin on the demon's face widen.
"Hello, Robert" the latter greeted in a fake sweet tone. "So, have you planned how are you going to spend your last ten years before joining me in Hell?"
"What the hell are you doing here, you son of a bitch?" the man exclaimed, ignoring the mockery in the other's voice. He moved forward again and shoved the gun under the demon's chin. "Unless you have changed your mind about my soul, you really should leave before I decide that killing you is more satisfying that get it back. Or are you here with you overgrown puppy again?"
"I take it as a "no". And I understand that you are still pissed at me after our last discussion" Crowley mumbled, gently pushing the gun away from his neck. "I'm sorry to inform you that I'm not going to change my mind any soon. A soul like yours is a rare thing, I won't give it up so easier". He slid backwards a bit, putting some more distance between the two of them. "Would you mind putting that thing away? I don't want you to ruin another one of my suits. And don't worry, we are alone. I left Growley at home today. But he knows your smell, so you have better behave with me if you don't want to see him again."
The hunter slowly lowered the gun, but didn't put it away. "I'll say it again. Get out. I don't care about why you are here in the first place. I just want you out of my property" he said slowly, but his tone was low and threatening. "You have two choices. You go or I'm making you."
The demon held his arms up, amused by the hostility. "Relax, darling. I brought a peace offer! I don't like leaving my costumers upset, especially the ones who brought me great advantages" he stated, waving a hand. "So, why don't you get another glass for me and we get that drink you offered me last time?"
Bobby kept on staring at the creature, not sparing a glance at the scotch bottle that he was now offering him. "Let me guess, thirty-years-old Craigh, isn't it?" he asked with a snort. "Do you really think that some good brand can stop me from getting what's mine back?"
The King of Crossroads looked impressed for a moment. "You remembered" he commented, his gaze becoming more intense for a moment. Then his voice became light and playful again. "Oh, I'm not so naive, my dear. But I'd guessed that you wouldn't follow my suggestion and start drinking something better, so I provided it for you". He moved the bottle a little forward. "Come on, Robert. Just a drink. And then we can go back at being old grumpy enemies."
The hunter glared hard at him for some long moments, but in the end he let out a heavy sigh and put the gun back in its place. "I feel I will regret this…Fine. You can stay" he agreed reluctantly. The demon would have gone on insisting until he gave up, so it was better cut it short and not give him the pleasure to exasperate him into giving up. "But just for one drink. Got it?"
Crowley nodded solemnly and followed him in the kitchen, keeping a couple of steps away after having received a growl of warning as he had tried to reach out for him. He hid another smirk at that, but didn't comment. It would have been fun if the other hadn't agreed so fast. He would have kept on teasing and poking the man until he had resigned to let him stay. However, he wasn't disappointed by not having given the chance to. He had spent the last weeks fighting and dealing with a bunch of idiotic demons who still didn't want to give up, even knowing that Lucifer was locked away in his cage for the good and unable to get out of it ever again. Hell was a mess since the missed Apocalypse and of course he was standing in the middle of it. Things were getting better, but he still had a long way to walk before being able to gain full power on the hellish race. He needed a break. The whole affair was deadly tiring and the fact that he had never been a patient man wasn't helping.
"So…Growley?" Bobby's voice asked, interrupting the trail of his thoughts. The hunter raised an eyebrow at him, opening the new bottle. "Really?"
"I find it quite…appropriate for my boy" the demon answered with a shrugged. He accepted his glass with a small nod. "He growls all the time and he loves me."
"You sick selfish egomaniac" the human snorted, shaking his head, but his tone didn't contain any malice. "I really shouldn't be surprised."
"I agree, you really shouldn't". The King of Crossroads watched him going to lean against the kitchen counter before taking a seat at the table. "You are smart for a human, Bobby. We haven't seen each other much, but I have the feeling that you have got to know me quite well, haven't you? But of course not as much as I know you."
"Oh, I'm sure that you can see straight into my soul" Bobby said, gulping down a big sip of liquor. He had to admit that it was really good. The creature had awesome tastes when it came to drinking.
The demon noticed the satisfied glimpse on his eyes and grinned a bit more widely. "You like it, don't you?" he asked candidly. "I can make sure that you'll have all the bottles you need from here to the day of your death. You just need to give me the right incentive. Oh, and, by the way, I'm starting to like that bitter, sarcastic humour of yours."
The hunter shot him a nasty look. "So you weren't lying before. You are really here just for drinking and flirting" he commented, tone heavy with sarcasm. "God help me!"
"Don't call for the Almighty, dear. I think we are on the same shore at the moment. Besides, you know that he is not exactly around to help, don't you?". Crowley offered him a seductive smirk and winked. He had always been into complex plotting and double-crossing, but he also enjoyed these small little games when he had the right person to play with. "And why should you call for Him when you already have the Devil at your service?"
The human snorted again, the corner of his lips lifting up a bit. The demon was an asshole and he hated him, but he could be a good company from time to time. Especially when he wasn't around tricking people and stealing souls. "Cut the crap, you are getting awfully cheesy. Why don't you tell me how things are going downstairs instead? I have bumped into some of you just once in the last two months."
The King of Crossroads held a hand against his chest. "Oh, you wound me, Robert! I thought you enjoyed my attentions!" he exclaimed theatrically. "But of course you prefer talking about work. It's not good for you at your age. You should give yourself a bit more of spare time, darling."
The human's face darkened a little. "If you sfacepalminglaying the part of worried wife, which really doesn't suit you, and answer my question, maybe I'll pretend not to have noticed you calling me old."
"I didn't. Not openly" the demon stated matter-of-factly, but he just received another murderous look, so he decided to do as he had been told. "Hell is a mess. There are so many idiots freaking out. Others are simply going wild. And some cowards hide away. There are few ones who knows what to do."
"And you are one of them."
"Of course I am. I knew since the very beginning. If everything goes as smoothly as it is, I'll get myself a big promotion very soon."
Bobby stopped the hand holding his glass mid-way to his mouth. "Wait a moment. You are going to exploit the former king's fall to take his place?" he questioned astonished. "You are even more ambitious than I thought."
Crowley smirked. "I told you you were smart!" he mocked, but his tone was playful. "Why not? I have the right qualities and the right allies to make it. Besides, better me than some other demon, don't you agree?"
The hunter found himself forced to nod, even if he didn't hide his reluctance. "I guess so. You are the evil we know."
The King of Crossroads joined his fingertips. "Exactly. Now, since you were complaining about not having had the chance to hunt down some demons, what about I'll give you names and places where you might find some good case?"
Bobby raised an eyebrow, almost amused. "Are you hiring me to get rid of your enemies?"
"Let's say I'm giving you the chance to call a favour on me. Not enough to have your soul back, but it could turn out to be useful anyway one day, don't you agree?"
"If you put it this way, then…I'm all ears."
The demon's lips turned up in a pleased smile and slowly took a sip from his glass, before starting to talk. The human grabbed small notebook and sat down in front of him, listening carefully and writing down a few notes. The King of Crossroads hummed quietly, delighted by the attention he was receiving, and started to insert unnecessary information in his reports, mostly tales about Hell and insulting anecdotes about his opponents. Gradually the conversation went from pure business to more relaxed and casual subjects almost without the two noticing it. The bottle of scotch was soon emptied and replaced with another one by a distract motion of Crowley's wrist.
The demon leant a little forward, getting more comfortable in his chair. It had been a while since the last time he had been so much at ease with someone. Casual conversation weren't something usual in a demon's routine. Not to mention how difficult it was to find an interesting interlocutor. His kind wasn't famous for good speakers and cultured individuals. He personally found most demons boring. The humans, in spite of their being so fragile and emotional, were much better when it came to talking. They were much more fun. And this one, in particular, had attracted his interest, even if he wouldn't have been able to say why exactly.
Bobby, unaware of the other's thoughts, emptied his umpteenth glass and glance at the clock. Almost three hours had passed since when the creature had appeared in his living room. And he hadn't even realised it. "Haven't I said that you could stay just for one drink?" he asked, exploiting a pause in his speaker's speech. "We have drunk a whole bottle, and more. Well, you have. I just helped a little."
"I needed more than one drink then, apparently" the King of Crossroads said in a flat tone with a shrug. "All this…politics is exhausting. But I guess that I have taken advantage of your hospitality for too long."
"Sure you have" the hunter agreed, but his tone lacked the conviction it should have born. He got up from his chair. "Well, you know the way out."
The demon smirked and stood in turn, taking a couple of steps towards the man and stopping right in front of him. "Should we kiss goodbye, darling?"
Bobby snorted making a face. "Don't you dare! The one you gave me for the contract was more than…" he started to say, but he couldn't finish the sentence because, without warning, Crowley's lips were pressed on his with force. His hands immediately shot up and landed on the other's shoulders, pushing hard enough to force him to break that contact. "What the hell! You damned idjit! Are you out of mind?!"
It was the creature's turn to snort and he didn't even bother to answer, but instead he leant forwards again, exploiting his being much stronger than the human to resume the kiss. He felt the other's body tensing against his and it made his amusement grew. He took advantage of the human's surprise to sneak his arms around his neck, drastically reducing the man's chances to be able to move away. He couldn't say he had planned what was happening, not entirely at least, but he was enjoying the whole situation. Both Bobby's shocked reactions and the feeling of their limbs tangled were exhilarating. He could feel the human trying to struggle in vain against his iron grip. They both knew that it was useless, but the hunter was too stubborn to give up.
Crowley chuckled in the kiss, but he stopped abruptly as he felt hands gripping on his hips and, before he could overcome his astonishment, his back hit the counter with violence. He let out a small, surprised gasp that turned into a moan as Bobby kissed him back roughly. The hunter exploited his temporary hesitation to sneak his tongue in the demon's mouth as he had done when they had stipulated the contract. Only that this time it lasted much longer and had no ulterior motive. The King of Crossroads smirked a little before pushing back, loving the feeling of the hot wet muscle ravishing his mouth. He usually was the one dominating and ordering around, but in that moment he wished nothing but letting the other devouring him.
When they parted, the human was out of breath and even the demon was panting slightly. They stared at each other in silence for a while, absorbing what had just happened. Then Bobby coughed, taking a small step back, as Crowley couldn't help snickering.
"Now, wasn't that lovely?" the creature commented amused, but there was no mockery in his voice. "I should come to visit more often. Who knows what could happen if I find you in a very, very happy mood. What do you think, love?"
"I think that you should really piss off, demon" the man answered in a harsh tone, but he kept his eyes away from the other. "Come on, fuck off, Crowley!"
The demon held his hands up in surrender. "Very well, dear. As you wish" he agreed obligingly. He quickly leant forward and pressed a brief kiss on the hunter's lips. "I'll see you again very soon, Robert Singer. And now I have one more reason to hold tight on your soul!"
Bobby cursed and reached out to shove the creature, but he was gone before he could reach him and his fingers met only thin air. "Damn" he mumbled under his breath, running a hand in his hair. He wasn't sure of what had just happened and he surely didn't want to think about it. Some things were better not to be known. And yet, he would have lied if he had said that he wasn't a little bit eager to see the demon again.
He rolled his eyes and headed back to the living room, where his weapons still waited to be cleaned, murmuring insults, but he couldn't wipe off the small smile that had blossomed on his face.