Something was off about Crowley. He was strutting about the room like his normal self, looking like he was about to pounce on Kevin, then... Then he paused. Not for very long. Just a small pause. Then the expression on his face changed. It was so quick that Kevin had no clue what it meant. Hell. He might've been able to convince himself that he had imagined the whole thing. But he knew better. He saw something. He just had no clue what it was.

"Stub your toe or something?" Kevin teased. He was testing the waters. He wanted to know what had happened, but he barely knew where to begin.

The demon looked... No. That couldn't be… Pride? He was proud? Oh, well. That was the last thing that the prophet had wanted to do.

He seemed to ignore Kevin's question and sat on the edge of the bed. His back was perfectly straight, his hands were folded in his lap. He just looked… Elegant. Kevin wanted to hit himself for the mere thought. That was the image that Crowley was going for. Was it really terrible to admit that he had accomplished it? Kevin knew the answer right away, 'Yeah. Probably.'

It seemed as if Crowley was going to say something. Kevin felt a certain anxiousness in his chest. Why didn't he say anything? Crowley had never seemed to have an off-switch before. No matter what you did, he'd never shut up. He seemed to be in love with the sound of his own voice. The prophet wanted to kill himself when the thought, 'And who could blame him?' bubbled up in his own mind out of nowhere.

No. Just no. He did not find Crowley's voice attractive. It was gruff and deep. It absolutely did not send pleasant chills up his spine. Not in a million years.

Damn it! He was sure that the demon could read him like a book. Crowley had no doubt seen the look on his face and was ready to tease him until he felt like crawling under a rock, and felt completely justified for hating the jerk.

When Kevin looked over at the demon, he just gave him a smirk. He would rather die that admit that a mere smirk had caused a physiological change in his body. That he could've sworn that his heart skipped a beat. Never.

Kevin gave an aggravated sigh, "You're acting creepy. Will you cut it out?"

"Oh, sorry darling. Are you feeling lonely being so far away?" he practically cooed at the younger. They were mere feet from each other. But compared to how close Crowley generally preferred to be, it did seem rather far.

"Nope. I don't do lonely," Kevin could have kicked himself. He heard the bitterness in his own voice. Damn in. He let a weakness shine through.

Another weird look flickered in the demon's eyes. It was so brief. Maybe he was imagining things. The demon's eyes cast down and he gave a rather reminiscent smirk.

"You've got an awful cute brave face, but we both know that's a lie. A bad one at that. You should know better than to try that with me," the tone held a small amount of scolding. He heard a soft chuckle after he had finished his sentiment.

Kevin crossed his arms, "Okay. Then it's nothing I can't handle. I'm used to being alone. And you're hardly ideal company."

The Prophet's breath caught in his throat. He felt almost cut by the truth in the simple statement, "Sweetheart. You never get used to being alone."

He was too scared to bring it up again, but it was all he could think about. It was moments like this that made him quite certain. Crowley was still taking blood wasn't he? He seemed downright human right now. Could it really just be an act? He just wanted Kevin to feel sorry for him. To care for him. It could be more manipulation, but could a demon ever fake sincerity?

He couldn't stop his mouth. He found that he could control himself less and less these days, "That's the real reason isn't it? You didn't bring me back so that you could torture me with your little games. You brought me back because you were lonely."

Crowley looked downright amused by the statement, "Darling. I've got all the company I need down here. Besides. That doesn't really apply to demons."

"You keep talking about how much you hate the other demons. That they're useless morons. I doubt you'd ever think of them as company," his statements didn't seem to be bothering the demon at this point, but Kevin was almost certain.

"Keep telling yourself that. You've got such adorable little theories. I love the way your mind works," that predator look was coming to life on the demon's face again. It seemed that Kevin had unwittingly sparked something in Crowley. How did that happen?

Kevin felt himself conflicted. He still hated the demon. He certainly didn't want to be groped and harassed by him. There was a certain curiosity now that was never there before. Was he dosed up on human blood? Who was he when he was human? Was he some poor guy who unknowingly sold his soul to a demon? No. It was more likely that he knew the price and was just willing to pay it. From the Winchester's prospective, that still made him a victim. It was almost impossible to imagine Crowley as a victim.

He wanted to kick himself. While he had been distracted by his thoughts the demon had made his way across the room. Not that it was that great a distance... He felt the blood rush to his cheek as Crowley's hand made contact with it. He was suddenly embarrassed that his face had started to sprout a little stubble. He quickly banished that thought. As if that mattered!

His hands were warm, as they worked their way under his shirt. His shirts had always fit him quite snugly, so the extra hand and movement strained the buttons slightly. It almost tickled the way his hand danced over his skin.

Crowley leaned in, pressing his lips against Kevin's. His heart was fluttering. He told himself to pull away. Throw anything nearby right at the demon's smug face. It was true though. He felt lonely. He hated himself for it, but he wanted to be comforted. Crowley wasn't winning anything. Kevin was allowing it. Because he was tired of this cold, isolated feeling. He told himself that he would've let anyone kiss him.

For the first time, Kevin leaned forward. He pressed against the other's warm body, giving into the comfort of soft lips surrounded by the rough stubble. 'It doesn't mean anything.' Kevin whispered to himself in mind. It didn't matter if it was a lie. It was what he needed to think.

A/N: Sorry about the really long break. Just got a reminder from the wonderful, ShadowWriter2199. Honestly. I need the reminders or it just slips my mind. I'm a huge spazz. I know. Shouldn't have left it here. Hope this will work until the next update. I'll get typing ASAP.