Kiss with a Fist

Crowley and Rowan walked over to the table off to the side, nearly hidden out of sight beyond the pillars. The blueprints showed Hell and all its complexity. It was much bigger than she had imagined, sort of like Dante's Inferno, but not as poetic, if that word could even be used to describe it. There were different torture stations. To name a few, the never-ending line-up, the long and dark corridors full of cells for solitary punishment and the good old fashion torture rack that split off into two sections; humans who got stripped into pieces and those that were tortured into becoming demons. How Crowley decided to place them, especially those that sold their soul, was beyond her and she wasn't about to ask; Hell was his domain.

However, she might later ask for his advice in case good souls may include those that stole or cheated others of their money or their lives; not bad enough to go to Hell but not good enough to enjoy all the glories of Helheim.

The one special location in Hell was so deep that it made Rowan wonder just how deep. It was Lucifer's cage and that sent a shiver down her spine. She wasn't going to focus on that detail, but she found it ironic how Lucifer's cage was at the bottom of Hell and not somewhere in Heaven. It's like Heaven wanted to forget all about him by burying him so far deep.

Crowley conjured up more paper so they could draw out where they would begin construction around Hell. He was mostly the one who drew things out, since Rowan didn't have a head for that sort of thing. She couldn't even remember how Helheim had begun. She was pretty sure it was there long before Odin exiled her there for being hideous. And apparently she couldn't even pay attention to what Crowley was doing.

"Hel." Crowley said, trying to get her concentration off the blueprints of his Hell and back on those of Helheim.

"I know what I'm looking at." She mumbled, thinking he meant Hell and he exhaled with an air of agitation.

"Rowan." He said, correcting himself. She finally looked at him, drawing her eyes away from the section about Lucifer's cage. Although she didn't want to think about it, she couldn't stop herself from wondering about him.

"Oh, sorry." She said with a slight smile, snapping out of her thoughts. "Just call me Rowan. The only one who gets to call me Hel is my brother, or else it gets confusing." She said and looked down at what he had done so far.

"Confusing for you or for everyone else?" he asked and she lifted her eyes up to him in a warning glare. His grin told her that he didn't care about her warning; he thought that was too good to keep to himself.

"You're not so nice when you're not chained to a chair, sitting in a Devil's Trap." Rowan said, getting a darkly mischievous grin from the King of Hell.

"And you're not so flirtatious." He added, making her frown, clearly not pleased with his teasing.

"We clearly used each other." Rowan said, thinking back to how they were towards each other in the bunker. Crowley tilted his head, as if thinking it over for a second.

"I'd say we were beneficial to each other." He corrected and gave her a slight smile. "Used is a word I prefer to keep for insignificants, like a certain pair of brothers." He added and Rowan shook her head, looking down at the blueprints. He was right; they were beneficial to each other because Abaddon was dead and she was his partner, both planning the construction of Helheim.

It was going to be large, like Hell, but broken down into smaller sections and levels. The human mind wouldn't have been able to comprehend the complexity of it, but it gave her insight as to how she'd construct it. The souls would be able to see what they wanted to see and, although the space was limited, it wouldn't seem like it to them. They wouldn't be stuffed into little boxes, separated from their loved ones. Helheim was going to let them relive or continue what made them happy.

Hell and Helheim, it's the Underworld and the word impossible doesn't exist.

"The thing about the afterlife, places like Heaven, Purgatory and our Underworld," Crowley said, putting a smile on Rowan's face. "There's no limit, no such thing as getting crowded." He added and she smiled, remembering that from her time in Helheim before her father took her out of there, taking away all her memories.

So, she didn't have to worry about Helheim not being big enough. Of course she knew that, but it was like starting all over again; learning everything again. However, this time there would be multiple levels of Helheim so it would allow Rowan to sort out the souls as she seemed fit. That was the only difference between now and then.

Crowley drew the entrance; the very mouth of it was a portal for Death and his reapers, with no gate on earth. There was a large enough space and then it moved on into two channels, one towards Hell and the other towards Helheim. The entire entrance to the Underworld was Rowan's to design as she wanted. She could design them to be rivers where boats would bring the souls to their destination. The channels could be roads where buses picked them up and then dropped them off. They could even be slides! Not that she'd make the channels into slides.

Or maybe they should be slides, that way no one has to make sure the souls don't try to escape. If they try to climb up the slides, they'd simply get pushed down by those going down.

Perhaps the channels could be trains transporting the souls to their final destination. Whatever she was going to decide, she wanted it to be modern and efficient.

"Rowan." Crowley said and she glanced at him. Despite his little grin, he seemed a little annoyed that she was daydreaming. "We could have our place here, in between." He said with his finger down in the space between Hell and Helheim. "Whatever you want, Chickadee." He said and she smiled at him, standing closer to him, her smiling growing as he wrapped an arm around her waist, his breath on her neck as she glanced down at that empty space.

Those words, his pet name for her, swept her off her feet along with his arms, his lips on her skin where they belong.

"I'd be happy with a Victorian styled house, with a pathway to the door, lamp posts to illuminate the front yard at nightfall, gardens and ponds with beautiful statues on each side. The backyard: a concrete patio with stone benches and gardens, reaching to a backdrop of mountains and a vast forest." Rowan said, imagining it in her mind, smiling as she lost herself in the beauty of her own home. However, she had to think of what that meant; not only would Crowley and she be partners in business, but lovers in that house.

That's if Crowley wanted that. But why else would be ask her what she wanted. Suddenly, she felt so confused. Did she love Crowley? She never loved anyone in her life, how could she know if she loved him?

"Then that's what I'll build." Crowley said and she glanced at him as if searching for the answer in his expression. How did he feel about her? Did he love her? Could he love?

Then, she remembered that he was nearly human for a moment. Maybe that influenced him. If it hadn't been for Sam trying to cure him, would Crowley be asking her what she wanted for the both of them? Would he be promising to build her the house of her dreams?

"What does this mean, Crowley?" she asked him, her confusion clearly in her voice and her eyes. He looked at her and, for a brief moment, she could have sworn that he was asking himself that very same question. "We made a deal to keep each other's information a secret from the Winchesters. We made a deal to be partners of the Underworld. And this house, what does it mean?" she said, her heart beating so fast that she was certain he could hear it. What if she made things worse by asking? What if he didn't even know?

"It means you and I are King and Queen of the Underworld; partners in business and lovers." Crowley added and before Rowan could ask if he was serious, he kissed her soft lips, chasing any fear or doubt that lingered in her mind. As she parted her lips, allowing his tongue into her mouth for that deep passionate kiss, she shifted towards him. He placed both hands on her hips, down to the back of her thighs where he lifted her onto the table, pushing through her knees.

Crowley clearly wanted to continue where they had left off before her brother rudely interrupted their heated moment in that dungeon. This time, no one was going to interrupt.

Rowan busied her hands by unbuckling his belt, snapping the button on his waistband, ripping the zipper apart. Meanwhile, Crowley ripped the slit of her dress and ripped her underwear, thrusting himself inside her before she could greedily control the situation. Rowan gasped with delight, but was cut short when Crowley bore down on her with a kiss that sent her body into pure ecstasy. He held onto her hips, keeping her body pressed against his, penetrating her with such fierce passion that her body both protested and surrendered. It was pure bliss.

Lovers it was.

Rowan tore his suit jacket open, gripping the front of his shirt in her fists as she curled her legs around him. She could feel one of his hands on her thigh, raising it over by his waist, getting another sensual grip that made her body shiver with pleasure. She could really hold onto his tie like a leash, but her mind couldn't get her hands to move; she was too entranced by his delicious touches.

While that hand gripping her thigh, holding her in place, the other unexpectedly aggressively pushed her hair away from her neck, ripping the lace off her shoulder, the sweetheart neckline left open. His lips broke away from hers, hungrily grazing her skin, his tongue lashing against her shoulder, as she wrapped her arms around his neck, keeping him close so he could hear her whispering moans of satisfaction in his ear.

Crowley gave hard and fast thrusts, never losing momentum, sending painful but exquisite jolts through her pelvis. His hand traveled up and down her leg, making it feel like fire licked at her skin. She couldn't tell the difference between pain and bliss; it all felt the same, glorious and delicious.

Rowan couldn't move with him in rhythm if she wanted, but that's what he wanted; for her to surrender completely to him, to be left to experience what he could do to her body. And he could do wonders. She wasn't complaining, as her moans gave evidence, and she was sure he could hear a smile in her voice. A pleasurable growl erupted from this throat, vibrating down her neck, like the beast within wanted to tear her open.

Her hands gripped his shoulder blades, her nails digging in through the material of his clothing, digging and piercing into something warm as her moans had turned into deep groans. Crowley grazed his teeth along her neck, letting out a possessive growl. He gripped her hair, pulling her head back as his hot tongue flicked up her throat, over her chin. She closed her eyes, shutting out the pain, falling into bliss. He released his grip, Rowan opened her eyes and when she looked into his eyes, they were a brewing crimson fire of a licentious demon.

It looked like Crowley just wanted her to submit to his seduction, not show him how she could be rough in sex too.

Crowley picked her off the table, slamming her into the wall next to them. He pinned her wrists above her head with one hand as the other gripped her hip, his pelvis pressed hard against hers, becoming one deep within her. His tongue felt like lava on her neck, burning up to her lips that melt like snow against his kiss. A deep gruntled roar escaped from his throat as his mouth left hers; giving her the chance to take in a breath before his lustful fire consumed her.

It was like a punishment for digging her nails in his shoulder blades. Only, she was enjoying it. But then, she was able to have a clear thought despite her blissful daze.

Crowley was going to take her, please her, and leave her wondering what came over her, just like he had promised. She had never been any happier.