A Piece of Me
Chapter 3: Shuffling the deck
I'm sorry, were you talking to me? No? Well then, please start.
Bobby didn't know what to expect from Crowley, after their 'date'.
(He flinched every time he thought of the word, but he didn't find other honest name for what had happened.
And it was not like he was telling it to anyone who could question it.)
Bobby wondered if the demon had just teased him, used his body for some kink and now they were done.
He wondered if the demon had recorded everything and would try to blackmail him.
He wondered if the demon would persist in his alleged plan of captivating him with niceties to generate positive reactions.
Well, he soon had his answer.
Crowley was very intent on captivating him with niceties.
xxx
In the very next day, the hunter was with a book on his favorite armchair when the King of Hell appeared right in front of him, said his usual Hello, Robert and knelt down between his legs.
'What the-'
'Shush', Crowley ordered, lifting a hand to prepare a snap of fingers, 'Keep on what you were doing', he smirked, 'You're sexy when you focus on your reading'.
'Were you spying on-'
At the sound of snapping, Bobby was pantless, the demon was going down on him, and he couldn't complete the question.
He tried to move his arms, but found out they wouldn't go beyond the strictly necessary to hold the book.
He tried to get back to reading, but pretending there was nothing else happening was not a possibility. The blowjob was so good he didn't care he was kind of doing what the demon had told him to, or that they were in his living room, or that he shouldn't trust a demon enough to enjoy it.
Bobby surrendered, staying boneless on the sofa until Crowley gulped down the last drop, winked at him and disappeared.
The hunter was left satiated, clean and clothed.
He breathed deeply to calm down his body and indeed resume reading.
xxx
In that same night, Bobby had just started his customary shower before bed when the demon appeared in his bathroom.
'Really, Crowley?', Bobby turned off the shower but didn't even bother pulling back the curtain that had been put aside by the nosy demon.
'I bring an offering'.
Bobby eyed the pretty bottle with a fancy ribbon, 'I'm not baby Jesus and you certainly aren't one of the Three Wise Men'.
'When I look at you I think more along the lines of some lascivious pagan god', Crowley looked at the human up and down, 'Of course, the similarities may be just in my mind'.
The hunter rolled his eyes and made a gesture for the bottle, 'What is that?'
'It's a special shower oil which proper use I intend on demonstrating'.
'I can manage by myself', Bobby grunted, 'I've used shower oil before'.
'Really?', the eyes shone, 'Care to tell me the scent?'
Walked into that one, 'No, Crowley. I won't tell you the scent'.
'Then I just hope you like this one', the King looked at the bottle, 'I guessed it would mix nicely with your skin natural perfume'.
Bobby realized, one more time, that Crowley was saying he thought of the hunter and of ways of pleasing him between a hellish plot and another.
It was still kind of disconcerting.
The human decided, one more time, to let it go, 'How you think of doing it? Joining me? Won't it get your precious clothes soaked?'
The demon grinned in enthusiasm, 'Don't worry, pet. I have everything planned'.
Crowley put the bottle carefully on the sink and snapped his fingers.
In the blink of an eye, his coat was besides the bottle and he was unbuttoning his cufflinks and folding his sleeves.
'Hands on the wall, Robert. I'll do some work on your back'.
Bobby obeyed, realizing it meant he trusted the demon to be behind him while he was naked and vulnerable.
(Oh, well. It had already happened in their first 'date', in fact.)
Crowley opened the bottle and a divine scent filled the room.
'It smells nice'.
'Just wait for how it feels'.
'Well, that is-Oh, God'.
The hands kneading his shoulders didn't stop, but the voice was scolding, 'Have some respect, Robert. Enough of Christian imagery'.
Bobby chuckled.
And then moaned at the right strength of hands on his muscles.
'That's more like it, love'.
The hunter relaxed his arms against the wall and spread his legs.
'I'm flattered, but I intend keeping on the massaging, for now'.
'Don't get the wrong idea', Bobby sighed at a knot being worked on, 'I'm too old to stand still for much time'.
The expert hands kept working.
Of course, silence would not last long.
'I wonder why you would speak of wrong ideas', Crowley's hands reached lower, 'You surely wouldn't mind if we had a repeated performance of our Japanese tryst, would you?'
Luckily, Bobby was facing the wall and his blushing could not be seen when he groaned, 'Idjit'.
'Now you're teasing', Crowley approached and pecked each of Bobby's shoulder blades, 'Have some patience. This massage is going to have a happy end'.
When Bobby was between his covers, later, he didn't know what had made him so ready for a peaceful night of sleep: it could be the amazing massage he hadn't even realized he needed, or the memories of a hand job, soft kisses on his back and that sinfully pleasant hickey on his neck.
xxx
From then on, they had an unspoken agreement: the King of Hell visited whenever he fancied, but never showed himself when there was someone else around; sometimes he would go directly to the point, pleasuring Bobby in a quick and efficient manner; sometimes he would take his time exploring the human's body with fingers and lips and tongue, awakening sensitive parts of him.
Crowley never hurt or did anything humiliating, but he never permitted Bobby to touch him, never took off more than his coat and never stayed afterwards, and for some reason it started bothering the human.
xxx
Maybe that was why Bobby started the chatting routine.
As soon as the demon materialized, he would offer a drink and ask about Hell before Crowley could say or do anything.
Obviously pleased with the interest, the demon told him some entertaining tales and provided Scotch just to tease the hunter.
And, contradicting what was expected of such a creature, Crowley would stare attentively at Bobby, ask about his day and listen to the answer.
Both knew they were testing the waters, not asking or telling too much in order to not give the other the impression that they were using their encounters to dig information. They were clever enough to pick the hints and steer the conversation towards themselves and not their 'jobs', what turned time before sex into nice and cherished moments.
xxx
Bobby had wanted to broaden his activities with Crowley, not liking the feeling that he was just a body to be touched in the right way in order to climax.
He was not against someone just wanting to give him physical pleasure and orgasms, but he enjoyed the conversations and the company, and the easiest way to convey that was engaging the demon into making their preliminaries longer.
It worked beautifully.
The King of Hell's visits started lasting hours, and the sex sessions seemed a result of their time together, not isolated favors.
xxx
At some point, Crowley was staying around to chat over shared liquor while the hunter did mundane tasks like cooking or fixing a car.
He often gave free tips on the monster of the week.
As much as his duties permitted, he took Bobby to expensive restaurants where the King always had a table reserved, or to exotic places he knew were of the human's interest.
They talked about small daily occurrences and commented on the news of the world.
It was comfortably domestic until one of them – or both – got aroused.
Then, it was always the same: Crowley would give Bobby an orgasm – through a blowjob or a hand job – and disappear immediately afterwards.
xxx
The night that changed everything happened into the third month of their liaison.
Crowley had arrived with a bottle of Craig, they sat opposite to each other in Bobby's living room and started one of their peaceful nights together.
They talked, as always: the human mentioned some difficult research, the King offered useful clues and told him an entertaining tale on his past experiences with the creature he was probably dealing with; the King ranted about stupid demons, the human offered useful advice on how to deal with brats, telling some anecdote about Sam and Dean as kids.
(The Winchesters' names were mentioned with varied tones of fondness and annoyance, by both.)
In that night they quickly left aside work and spoke of themselves in a quite personal way.
Bobby told Crowley how he got an interest and developed his self-taught knowledge of cars. He didn't mention his father directly, but both knew the need to learn a profession as soon as possible was directly related to the pressure his mother did after telling the Police the boy had shot his father by accident.
As if wishing to retribute in the same topic, Crowley told Bobby about his first experiences with magic, when he was still a small boy in Scotland. He didn't mention his mother directly, but it was clear he still remembered clearly his human childhood and had some deep ingrained confused feelings towards her.
It was just an ordinary night of the two of them being comfortable with each other, but that turn on the conversation changed something: their voices were softer than usual, and the general mood was of bonding over the understanding that they had gone through a lot and appreciated having someone for them like that.
(Obviously, none of that was said.)
At some point of the night a wave of something strangely similar to tenderness passed between them, and they stared at each other in silence.
Sensing the agitation growing under Crowley's contained demeanor, Bobby decided to give the demon some space: he got up, stretched his back and declared he was thirsty.
He really intended to drink some water, but the demon grabbed the opportunity to break the moment his usual way: he went to the edge of his sit and pulled Bobby closer by the hips, 'What a coincidence: I'm thirsty too, pet'.
The hunter looked down at the other's face.
Crowley had a teasing half-smile that had never seemed so fake.
Not because he was pretending to desire Bobby, but because they just had had a kind of heart-to-heart, and it shook the demon so deeply it was not enough to change the subject – he had to wear his mask of meaningless lust to hide the emotions that insisted on coming to the surface.
Bobby witnessed, one more time, the struggle under the carefully crafted façade.
Realizing how exposed he was, Crowley got serious, but didn't let go of Bobby's hips.
Neither knew what to say.
They stayed there, eyes locked again, what ironically took them back to the situation they were trying to avert.
'We may have talked too much for a single night', Crowley finally said, and lowered his stare to Bobby's middle, that was right in front of his face, 'You better do something to shut my mouth'.
Bobby moved his hand slowly.
It was the first time Crowley left him so free after he signaled for sex, and Bobby wanted to seize the opportunity without freaking the demon out.
His fingertips caressed lightly one cheek, 'Something?'
Crowley leaned his head a bit against the touch and closed his eyes as if it hurt him to cave in like that, 'Anything you want, sweetheart'.
The closed eyes and the endearment snapped Bobby's self-control.
The hunter leaned enough to grab the lapels of the demon's coat and force him to get up.
When they were both standing, the wary expression on Crowley's face was Bobby's last straw.
That creature could kill him with a thought, and still he didn't stop the manhandling.
Maybe they had reached a point in their game where mistrust had no place.
Bobby captured those lips as if it was a point of honor to show the kind of thirst he had.
Yes, it included the raw lust the demon could wake up in him, but it was a need for other kind of intimacy, too: something that had been more and more present when they were together and made the human think, as bizarre as it seemed, that it just could be affection.
The kiss started as massaging of lips but soon had open mouths, and Bobby gave everything he had.
No one besides Karen had been that dedicated to stay around him.
He wondered how difficult it must be, to a creature used to be obeyed and feared, to do what Crowley had been doing – spending so much time with him, thinking of him, opening up to him.
Bobby didn't know exactly what he would get from that kiss, but he intended to show how much he appreciated what had been developing between them.
His hand sneaked his way up the demon's back and entwined in his hair, and the unexpected sensual gesture made Crowley moan and grab him tighter.
Both got lost in the lip-lock.
(If there was not a demon involved, they could say it was heavenly.)
When they parted, Bobby stared into Crowley's eyes.
He was ready to admit that the demon had been right since the beginning – that he was a delicious partner, trusting and dependable, and that Bobby longed for him and wanted more.
However, when he opened his mouth to speak, he saw sheer panic in the other's eyes.
Crowley disappeared and didn't come back for two days.