Title: And Then They Kissed
Author: mrscastielftw
Rating: PG – 13 (Language and Kissing)
Characters: Bobby / Crowley, Dean / Cas, Sam / Gabriel, Chuck / Becky
Genre: Schmoop / Angst / Crack = Schmangstarack
Spoilers: None really, but to be safe up to 06x04
Warnings: None
Word Count: 3,168
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I just borrowed it and I will return it when I am finished – unfortunately.
Summary: They sat staring at a laptop in a small bedroom in a regular suburban area.
Narrator: Bobby stood close to Crowley, "Take my soul. If it will help stop the apocalypse, take it." They gazed into each other's eyes and the answer came, "As you wish." As Bobby felt his soul leave to him, he ran the back of his hand against the demon's cheek and leaned just close enough to brush his lips against the…
The Reader: Hold it, hold it. What is this? Are you trying to trick me? Is this a kissing fic?
Narrator: Wait, just wait.
The Reader: Well, when does it get good?
The Narrator: Keep your shirt on. Let me read. Even though Crowley was a demon, he had business ethics which prevented him from pursuing the hunter. He set off to Hell to seek his fortune and a corner office. All the while he tried to deny the profound bond that always called him back to the salvage yard…
Author's Note: I cannot really explain where this came from or why. Yes, the corsage was part of the original prompt. Also, it has nothing to do with The Princess Bride, but I really wanted to use that scene for the summary.
When Bobby got his soul back from Crowley, he really thought that would be the last he saw of demon. Which is why he was shocked when Crowley appeared at the kitchen table opposite of him.
"Bobby, I hope you don't mind, I brought some friends." Crowley reached into his coat and pulled out two bottles of very old and expensive scotch and placed in them in the center of the table. "I call them now and later."
"So, I'm good enough to drink with you now?"
"What? Yeah, water under the bridge and all that. Listen, all this sodding bureaucratic business in Hell is driving me mad. I just need to sit and drink without any pesky demonic interruptions. And now that we have dealt with the blasted business about your soul, I figured you owe me."
"I owe YOU?"
"Well, I stuck my neck out for you to prevent the Apocalypse. I have politely answered every time you summoned me and overlooked the malicious use of devil's traps. I look the other way when you and your boys kill my employees, but that's mostly because it saves me the trouble of killing them myself. Oh, and I let you out of your deal, which means now there is no messy conflict of interest and that, mate, means we're free to have a drink." Crowley poured two glasses of scotch and slid one across to Bobby. "Come on, Love. Drink this and you'll never go back to the swill you usually drink."
Bobby bit back his witty retort. Crowley looked as bad as he felt, so he finally just said, "What the hell!" Earning a small smirk from Crowley and grabbed his glass savoring the amber liquid.
After that, it became a regular thing between the two of them. Every Friday evening at nine, Crowley would appear across the table with two new bottles of scotch. They would discuss their "day at the office." You would be surprised how similar being the king of Hell and being the hub of the hunter communication network are; in fact sometimes Bobby felt that Crowley was the only other being that could possible understand.
Gradually, the demon started showing up more frequently throughout the week, until they had a standing appointment every night at nine. While the upgrade in booze was certainly welcome, Bobby was surprised to see how anxious he would get just waiting on the arrival of his comrade. Many hunters had incurred his wrath, simply for calling too close to nine. His palms would sweat, his stomach fluttered, and he paced. But no matter what, at nine precisely, he was seated at the kitchen table looking as gruff and calm as he could muster.
They talk about everything, monsters they've encountered, management issues, and they would constantly try and top each other's stories. Crowley usually won, but was only natural as he has several hundred years on the hunter. One of the best stories was that of a man who sold his soul to ensure that all of the dolls in his collection never lost their shoes. The cunning demon had added a sub-clause into that contract too. The dolls kept their shoes, but the man was forever losing his. Crowley genuinely laughed when he regaled the man's endless hunts and vain attempts to keep his shoes. His smile reached his eyes for the first time since they'd met. Though to be fair, in times of an apocalypse, nobody smiles. The visits grew longer, they grew more liberal in their scotch consumption, and their stories grew wilder.
Bobby woke up early and did his best to gear up for the day, when he noticed the smell of fresh brewed coffee wafting through the house. He made his way downstairs and to his surprise, to found Crowley in his kitchen holding out a mug of coffee for him. He crossed the kitchen and grabbed the mug giving Crowley a quick kiss. Realizing what he had done, Bobby flushed scarlet and tried to make a hasty exit. The kiss had been a habit of his with Karen when she was alive. Since she'd passed there hadn't really been anyone to hand him coffee in the morning.
Crowley grabbed his hand effectively crushing any hope of escape. "What exactly was that?"
Bobby managed to spit out, "Sorry, habit."
"Darling, I can assure you, that you don't have a habit of kissing me good morning."
"It's nothing. Let's drop it."
"First, kissing me is bloody well not nothing and second, you do realize we've been practically dating for months now. In fact, all of Hell is primed for your coronation as its queen."
"I may be old-fashioned, but I don't think a couple of drunken stories about you stealing some poor bastard's shoes counts as a date."
"All right Robert, have it your way. A proper date tonight. I'll make all the arrangements and come around seven to pick you up. Until then." With that Crowley vanished and Bobby just stood there trying to figure out how after everything that just happened, his only thought was that he needed to buy a new hat for tonight. "Son of a bitch."
"You going to stand there all night or you planning to knock?"
Crowley startled for a moment. This was mortifying. He was the current Supreme Overlord of Hell and he was afraid to knock on a door. Weren't people supposed to be clamoring to him? "Bloody Hell! You do realize that I am the KING of Hell. That makes me what most people would consider a catch. So please forgive me if I'm not used to being in this position." His fingers tightened around the small white box. He thumped his head into the door and whispered, "Bollocks."
"I'm countin' that as a knock, get in here." Swinging the door open, Bobby ushered the demon in and finally took notice of the small box clutched rigidly in Crowley's hands. "That sure as shit better not be what I think it is."
"Robert, I'm shocked that you for a second believe that I would arrive at our very proper date without a traditional corsage for you, Dearest."
"Funny." Bobby said grabbing the box and shoving it onto his desk. "Where we headed?"
"We're going to my house. I cooked you dinner. You should probably also be aware when I say my house, the my is more of a subjective term."
Aside from the change of venue, Bobby wearing his new formal hat, and Crowley providing food instead of just booze, it was basically like any other evening they had spent together. So Bobby finally admitted to himself that they really had been kind of dating for awhile.
After consuming some pasta dish that's name Bobby couldn't begin to pronounce and talking about nothing and everything, Crowley escorted him back to his door and paused. It was awkward to say the least. What was the proper etiquette for ending your first formal date with a demon of the highest status? "Balls." He said as he crashed their mouths together. He was rusty, sue him. Crowley on the other hand kissed people for a living and it showed.
They broke apart and Crowley just smirked, "My, my you are a delicate flower, Robert. So, what's your verdict? Will we be continuing these little trysts?"
"See you tomorrow." He winked and went into the house with his heart still pounding and smile stuck permanently on his face. A little voice in the back of his mind really hoped that Chuck was no longer writing, because he wasn't he could stand reading how Chuck would describe this moment. It would probably involve the words "dalliance with the devil."
They fell back into their normal routine. They stayed mostly at Bobby's and didn't feel the need for formal dates; instead just they were happy to just be together. Bobby relished having someone in the house with him. The boys would stay when they were passing through, working a job, or beat all to hell and needed a safe place to heal, but with Crowley it was different. He just fit perfectly in the hunter's home. Truth be told, Bobby never really saw himself getting serious with anyone again and he absolutely wouldn't have thought about asking them to move in, but here he was. "I think we need to talk."
"I don't like the sound of that, Love. Trouble in paradise already?"
"This thing we're doing…"
"I love it when you talk romance, Darling."
"Shit. Our relationship…I want to make it more…take it to…just move in with me."
"Forceful, I like it. Sure, but you realize we will have to seal this deal…" Crowley trailed off suggestively.
"And I want to tell the boys and get their blessing." Bobby rushed out.
Sighing, Crowley pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to hide his overwhelming sense of dread. "Do you really think that's wise Robert, I mean the boys have never been…overly fond of me, especially now with my promotion."
"They're my family and if we're gonna to do this, then we're gonna do it right and that means talking to the boys. I love them like my own. They're the closest thing I got to family, besides you."
"This Thursday, we'll have them over for dinner. I'll cook and we'll tell them everything." He grabbed the hunter's hand and squeezed it reassuringly.
Thursday came all too quickly. They had converted the library into a makeshift formal dining room. Bobby was impressed with Crowley's efforts, but he still felt like a giant stretched out rubber band just waiting to snap. His hands shook as he carefully arranged the plates and glasses over and over again. He heard the familiar roar of the Impala. Crowley stepped up behind him and placed a steadying hand on his shoulder, "Keep calm, we'll just do what we talked about, and everything will go like clockwork." He walked back into the kitchen to finish preparing dinner.
Dean and Sam entered the house followed hesitantly by Castiel. Bobby immediately pulled both Winchesters in for a hug. Castiel awkwardly reached his hand out to Bobby, but the hunter grabbed it pulling the angel into the clumsiest most graceless excuse for a hug Bobby had ever experienced.
"What is it Bobby? After we got your frantic message, we have expected to be walking in to zombie apocalypse part six."
"Boys, I think it would be best if we discuss this at the table." They all made their way into the library and took their places at the table. Bobby held his hat in his hands and began squeezing and reshaping the brim. "Boys, I've been…involved with…someone for a while now and I am really serious about this. I know I should've said somethin' sooner, but I wanted to…I don't even know what I'm trying to say."
Dean smirked and Castiel just glanced from Bobby to the kitchen door and back with his head tilted to the side. Always the most emotionally perceptive, Sam spoke first. "It's okay Bobby. Actually, it's way better than okay. I can tell how happy you are."
Dean butted in, "And seriously, look at this place…you where either shacking up with some babe or Martha Stewart invaded the salvage yard. 'Cause dude, there are place cards on the table. Spill it. Who's the lucky lady? It's that Marcy from down the street isn't it?"
"It's about as far from Marcy as possible," Bobby laughed nervously. This was it the moment. The big reveal. "For the past few months, Crowley and I have been seeing each other and we are planning to move in together." Both Winchester boys exploded into laughter.
The kitchen door swung open and in walked Crowley in his "Kiss the Cook" apron. "Hello Boys. Pleasure and etc." He took his place at the table beside Bobby and placed his hand on top of the hunter's in an effort to still the nervous fidgeting.
The laughter and all traces of happiness drained from the room. "Son of…You were serious? He's a frakking demon. He stole your soul, nearly got us all killed REPEATEDLY, he caused Sam to stab the Impala, and now you want to what? Play house."
"Boy, you are in my house and you may not agree with my choices, but you will respect my…"
"Lover." The demon smugly added.
"This is just peachy. How did this even happen? Taking your soul once was not enough. What's the angle this time?"
"It happened how it always happens. Dean, we spent time together and things went from there."
"What can I say? I'm a hell of a guy."
"Bobby, this is a trick. He's a demon. He's just using you."
"Dean." Sam interjected desperately wanting to avoid bloodshed.
"Don't Dean me! You of all people should see where this is heading," Dean jumped up knocking his chair over in the process and stormed out into the yard.
"Balls."
"Bobby, it's just Dean. You know how well he accepts change and this is a big change. Give him time and he'll come around. He just needs time to process your…"
"Torrid passion." Crowley supplied.
Sam choked, "I-I…"
Crowley snuggled closer to the hunter, "You should know Robert is very dear to me. I know we've had our issues in the past and we will probably always have some level of job related tension, but I plan to be here as long as he'll have me. I hope you will all be able to accept that, because you are very dear to Robert and that makes you almost tolerable to me."
"Crowley?"
"Listen Cuddles, you know I'm not one to sugarcoat. I want them to accept us, but I am not willing to lie about how I feel."
Bobby huffed out a laugh and Sam was actually speechless. He had never gotten to see Bobby happy in a relationship. It was then that he noticed beneath the apron and a vest, that probably cost more money than they could hustle in three months, Crowley was wearing one of Bobby's faded plaid shirts. Sam's eyes glistened as he recalled all the times Jess had worn his shirts and he knew this was real. Crowley's only endgame was getting to be with Bobby. "Hey, if Cas doesn't have any luck, I'll try and talk some sense into Dean." He smiled weakly at the demon, who nodded in return.
"Robert, since it doesn't look like dinner will be happening for a while, do you care to help me pack everything up?"
"Right behind you. Tell you what, I'll wash, you dry."
"You've got a deal, Darling." They headed into the kitchen leaving Sam at the table, still trying to fully grasp the weight of changes to their makeshift family.
Surrounded by the mangled frames of junkers and various car parts, Dean felt less claustrophobic. He was pacing by the body of a 1972 Roadrunner when he heard the angel's approach. "Cas, I can't do it again. I can't watch another person that I care about be pulled apart by a demon. I can't. I won't." A single perfect tear rolled down Dean's cheek and he quickly brought his hand up to wipe it away. "You know what they did to Sammy. This is too much."
"Dean, if it helps, I feel that Crowley's intentions are honorable."
Dean couldn't control his grin as he imagined the Sheriff of Heaven asking the King of Hell what his intentions where with Bobby, but the moment was short lived. "I know, it's just I-we need him. Will he still be there to help the same way now that he's dating on the dark side? If there is another apocalypse, what then? I can't fight knowing Bobby's on a different side. You, what will you do? Will you have to leave…" Dean's rant was effectively cut short by the soft press of Cas' lips on his. His hand slid to Cas' tie, using it to hold the angel in place.
Sam found himself alone at the table. He wondered when it was exactly that everyone paired off and he felt lost. It was so much information to process. His brother was a true instrument of God and he was doing whatever it is that Dean and Cas do, with an archangel. His father figure was deeply committed to a demon, which kind of meant that his new "step-parent" really was the devil. And he was just as alone...again…as always. He lowered his head to the table.
A soft sound drew Sam's eyes up to red velour heart shaped box and then to the recently deceased and now very much alive archangel turned trickster holding it. "Sammy…Sam, there is something I need to tell you."
"How are you back? Lucifer smote you."
"Dad's got a HUGE announcement to make so naturally, he needed a messenger. He brought you back too. Sam, I want to say I'm sorry, but that can't be enough…"
"You don't have to do this."
"I-I just don't know what to do…I mean I kidnapped you, I turned you into a car, killed you brother lots, for crying out loud I gave you herpes, my brother actually did wear you to the prom and that's not even the worst…"
Sam stood and placed his hands on Gabriel's face, "We've had enough Tuesdays, let's just start fresh with a Thursday."
Gabriel rolled his eyes, "Castiel will love that."
"Shut up and kiss me." And so Gabriel did.
Staring at the blinking cursor, Chuck realized that maybe getting back together with Becky was affecting his writing.
"Close your eyes," uttered an insisted voice from behind him. He knew what was coming and he closed his eyes regretting the fact that he would soon have to open them again. Becky had been diligently working on invitations for everyone to come to their house for Thanksgiving. "Ready. Open them."
Anguish, misery, and despair filled him as his eyes took in Becky's newest work of art. The giant poster featured a nude Sam standing by their table, preparing to carve a strategically placed turkey. The words "Light Meat Or Dark" where inscribed across the bottom of the page. "That is…that is a surprisingly…good manipulation. Um, will they all be that big? It's just, you know, extra postage and all."
"No, this is just for us to hang in the bedroom." Becky's eyes seemed to glaze over and she drifted into her own little world.
"Oh." Chuck realized he would never get a good night's sleep again.
A high pitched squeeing sound pulled Chuck's attention away from Sam's turkey. "I can't wait to tell little Cassy and Gabby that I'm going to be their new mommy." She kissed his cheek and ran back to finish the invitations.
And They All Made-Out Happily Ever After
Narrator: All right. I lied. It totally is a kissing fic.