At six in the morning it wasn't odd for Pastor Novak to be awake, but this was the first night since he was in the Marines that he hadn't slept a wink. He tried for a few hours, staring at the phone beside his bed, waiting for what he was certain would be Dean Winchester's first call. After all, they were like family. But eventually he gave up, opting to sit on the back porch of his humble ranch-style homes, pondering his decision. Fifteen years was enough time and more, and for the Winchesters he would do it all again, but he worried about the implication of making an actual deal with the devil. Was he supposed to resign from his flock? Leave town and the Winchesters? Leave Anna? But those extra years would mean nothing without her, and he still wasn't convinced Meg could handle her. By the time his phone rang, he was at peace with his choice. He would stay until he was shown another way.

"Cas, he's going to be okay! The doctor just called and he's going to be alright!"

"Well," Castiel replied, a gentle smile gracing his face. "I guess we prayed hard enough."

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" Castiel started at the growl behind him, spinning to see Crowley minus one black overcoat, grinning down from where he was leaning against Cas's dresser, his arms folded. "Hello Pastor."

The words seemed to stick in Castiel's mouth as he hastily told Dean that he had to go before whirling around. "You owe me fifteen years, why are you-"

"Relax, Cas!" the demon cut in loudly, unfolding his arms. "It's not your collection date yet. I'm here for something else."

"Something else?" he repeated, trying to steady his rattled nerves.

A small smile hid behind Crowley's lips as he stepped forward to the edge of the bed. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"No, you can't."

"I'm going to anyway," Crowley replied immediately. "That baby you saved, how is he worth your soul?"

"Excuse me?" Castiel frowned.

"He's not your son, he's not your grandson, he's not even your nephew why the hell is he worth your everlasting soul to you?"

Castiel swallowed. "He's my godson," the man mumbled.

"Oh yeah?" Crowley said, narrowing his eyes and pausing a moment to think. "So then this isn't about the kid, it's about his parents."

"What?" Pastor Novak seemed startled.

"Let me guess, you're in love with his mommy?" the demon grinned.

Castiel's gaze faltered and Crowley raised his eyebrows.

"Oh!" he exclaimed. "His daddy!"

"It's not like that!" the pastor hissed immediately, his hands balling into fists beneath the sleeves of his bathrobe. "We went to war together, he's like family!"

"Oh come on now, you've got nothing to hide from me," Crowley scoffed. "And there's really no use lying, I can smell it all over you."

"Smell what?" Pastor Novak demanded, narrowing his eyes.

Suddenly a powerful force threw the young preacher against his bedroom wall, eliciting a harsh grunt and a grimace of pain. Crowley smiled gently as he paced around the bed, approaching the pinned man.

He leaned in, his hands still tucked in his pockets as he spoke a bit too close to Castiel's ear. "Masochism," he purred gently.

Cas pinned his lips shut, glaring at the demon standing before him.

"Let me guess," he whispered, his eyes rolling up as he considered his next words. "You just want him to be happy, to get settled in with his pretty little wife and his pretty little baby."

"How is that a masochistic desire?" Castiel demanded in a growl, feeling the demon's breath ghost across his ear.

"Because this way he's tucked away," Crowley purred. "Out of your reach but still in sight." He inhaled slowly through his nose and Castiel felt a brief chill, trying to stifle a physical reaction as best he could. "That's it," the demon hummed, pulling back. "Masochism."

"So you think I'm teasing myself," the man said, breathing in to try and regain his composure, "with Dean Winchester?" His voice was shaking. He didn't know if what Crowley was saying was true, but when it came to Dean he tried not to dig too deep.

"Just a theory," Crowley replied, reaching forward to touch Castiel's jaw. "Not that it matters much."

"Then what do you think you're-"

And suddenly Crowley's lips were on Cas's, silencing him firmly and forcing the man's mouth open. Long, hungry kisses passed from one to the other as Crowley grabbed at Castiel's jaw, holding his head steady to receive.

At last he pulled away, his hand still grasping tightly as he examined the preacher's flushed face, watching heavy breath leave his lips.

"We...we already closed the deal," Cas whispered, his eyes lidded heavily.

Crowley pushed his thumb into the man's mouth, pinning his tongue down. "Shhh..." he soothed softly, teasingly. "This isn't about the deal, love."

He pushed Castiel's head up, leaning in to latch his mouth onto the man's neck, sucking and biting hungrily as he pressed his body up against the other's. The demon was pleased to hear a soft noise, a gasp really, force its way through the preacher's throat and he finished his kiss with a sharp nip, drawing the short but deep moan out fully.

"You like being bitten?" he murmured, his free hand reaching for the collar of Castiel's t-shirt and pulling, greedy for more exposed flesh.

"Why are you doing this?" Cas panted as the demon's hand jerked back, tearing the t-shirt open roughly.

"Because I want to," he hissed, releasing the man's jaw to fully shred open his shirt, then stepping back to survey his prey. "My goodness," he said, a grin spreading across his face as his eyes wandered to Castiel's crotch. "You came around quicker than expected."

"Shut up," the preacher shuddered and Crowley grinned, letting Cas down with a snap of his fingers.

Immediately, Crowley shoved him down onto the bed, climbing on top of him and pushing his robe down his arms. When Castiel resisted, Crowley pinned him down with his hips, grinding up against him and causing the man to throw his head back, shivering as a wave of lust overcame him, giving Crowley the window he needed to rip the pastor's robe off with the remains of his shirt.

"Come on, Cas," he mumbled breathily, pinning the man's arms down with surprising force. "You don't have to fight me like this. I wouldn't even be here if you hadn't wanted this."

His hips thrust forward and an unwilling moan was wrestled from the pinned preacher, his head turning to the side and his eyes squeezing shut. A tear leaked out and Crowley leaned in, lapping it up before it reached Cas' ear. He kissed down the man's jaw tenderly before seizing his lips again, this time managing to work his tongue into Pastor Novak's mouth. It was thick, hot, and left a bitter aftertaste in the man's mouth, an alluring taste that he found himself all too eager to take in. He relaxed ever so slightly in the demon's grasp, his hips arching up.

The change in body language didn't slip by Crowley, who pulled back slowly, eating the expression on Cas' face up for half a second before he stood, slipping his suit jacket off his shoulders. When Castiel surged upward he waved his hand and forced the man back down with a groan.

"Let me free!" Castiel demanded as the demon searched for a suitable place to hang his jacket. "This isn't what I want..."

"Yes, keep telling me that," he hummed, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling his sleeves up one by one. "I'm not really the one you have to convince though Cas."

"Please!"

His voice was growing more desperate as the demon approached him again and Crowley couldn't help but enjoy the look in those clear blue eyes. He reached down, grabbing the man's arm and wrestling him over onto his stomach, reaching for the waistband of his pajamas.

"Nngh-stop it!" Castiel cried, his voice faltering as the demon exposed his ass, his face flushing with color.

Crowley reached onto his tongue, drawing a fat drop of saliva from his tongue and reaching down to drag it across the tight entrance before pressing a wet finger in, causing the preacher to shudder, struggling to pull his hips away. Humiliation welled inside the man as the finger dug into him, violating him effortlessly.

"Please stop," Cas begged softly into the bed, his breath heavy. His voice was softer now. It wasn't a demand, it was a plea.

"Afraid I can't do that," Crowley hummed, curling his finger and massaging Castiel's insides. "We're just getting started, darling."