"Ruby?" A light flashed across my closed eyelids. "Is she awake?" A man's voice asked anxiously. He breathed a loud sigh of relief when I let out a soft moan, feeling beginning to flood back through my body. I tried to lift my hand to rub my throbbing head, but it fell back onto the bed like a deadweight. I moaned again, keeping my eyes closed, willing my body to go back under. "Ruby?" The man's voice sounded again, closer. Slowly I pried my eyes open, one at a time, blinking the spots and blurred world from my vision. Bobby's face came into focus in front of me soon after. "Oh, thank god. How are you feeling? Are you alright? I'm so sorry I had to do that to you, but I saw no other choice, Ruby. You were out of control—there was no other way of calming you down!"

I cleared my throat several times until I felt the raspiness leave it, but still replied in a rough voice, "Do what to me? Bobby, wh-what are you talking about?" The sound of a machine beeping made its way into my ears and I took my eyes off Bobby to find the origin of the sound. A hospital. I was in the hospital. "And what the hell am I doing here? What happened?" I tried to hide the fear in my voice.

Bobby studied me for a moment. He sighed and said, "Ruby, it's alright. You don't have to play like this; what happened, happened and we will get through this together. As a family. You're not doing anyone good denying what happened, especially to yourself."

I looked at Bobby incredulously, still not understanding a word coming out of his southern mouth. What happened? What happened that he is so dingy about? Did I do something? I then tried to backtrack to the last memory I had stored and found nothing. I furrowed my eyebrows in concentration, trying and failing to remember anything that happened before just now, when I woke up. "B-Bobby, I honestly have no idea what you are talking about…the last thing I remember is…I don't know, maybe…you, me and John having a beer at your place? Planning a thing for Dean or something…" I grunted as I managed to push myself up into a sitting position and brought my hand up to massage my throbbing temple.

"Ruby," Bobby said sternly. "Cut the crap."

I glared at him. "Cut what crap?" I flinched as my voice began to ring in my ears.

"Are you telling me that you don't remember a damn thing that happened the other night?" Bobby eyed me meticulously, trying to make me.

"'The other night'?" I repeated. "How long have I been here? Can you please, for the love of God, just tell me what the fuck I am doing in a hospital and what the fuck you are rambling on about?"

Bobby opened his mouth to answer me, but angrily decided against it and irately trudged from the room. I saw him approach a nurse attendant and begin a heated discussion with her. He pointed in my direction a few times, and the attendant was shaking her head, looking apologetic. After a few minutes of this, the attendant walked away, leaving Bobby standing in the middle of a lobby with his arms crossed. I couldn't tell if he was going to burst into tears or begin breaking everything in sight. He obviously decided against neither, after several minutes of deliberation, when he made his way back into my room and awkwardly sat at the bottom of my bed. It was silent while I studied him studying his calloused hands. I didn't prod or push him into speaking, I only waited. Finally, he said somberly, "You were right, Ruby. Us three were having a beer, planning a welcome home party for Dean—" That's right, he was returning from a job up in Virginia. "—but the thing is, you had only one beer, so when you passed out—literally right there in the middle of the kitchen floor—we knew it must've been something else." He paused, cleared his throat, and then hesitantly continued, choosing his words carefully. "We brought you to the hospital. That was about three days ago. They said you came down with a mild case of mono somehow. You've been in and out of consciousness, and when you have been conscious, you've been dizzy and incomprehensive and sick. Like chills and fever and puking sick. Are you feeling better now, then?"

I didn't respond right away. For some reason, I had a hard time taking all of what Bobby had just said in. I mean, yeah in some way it would make sense that I had gotten mono—it has been going around towne recently and I hadn't been exactly faithful recently, either. But it just all seemed…random? I couldn't place my doubts. "Um, yeah. I mean, compared to what you're describing that has been happening, I feel fine. I don't feel like any of that any more…"

Bobby laughed shakily and patted my leg. "Good. Good. You gave us quite a scare, there, Ruby."

I smiled uncertainly. "Yeah, well, sorry about that. And that I missed Dean's party." I cleared my throat. "How did that go, anyways?"

He waved his hand dismissively. "Same as they always are with the Winchesters. Beer, oldies music and pool."

I laughed. "Good. I'm glad it turned out okay in my absence." I squirmed uncomfortably under the sheets and in my hospital gown, as if I was just noticing their existence. I frowned and said, "So when do I get out of here? I fucking hate hospitals."

"Well now that you're conscious, I'd assume not too much longer. Probably another night just to be sure everything remains alright and then I'll take you home. That sound okay?" I nodded. "Just, just let me know if/when you need to talk about anything, okay?"

I nodded again, though something in his words and the tone of his voice didn't portray the kind plan he was offering. Now that I was thinking about it, since we had been talking he had seemed distant, like he had much bigger things on his mind at the moment, and like he didn't want anything more than to be far away from me right then, that he was just discarding me and relieving himself when he would take me back home. I didn't know if it was only me being paranoid, or if Bobby was just in the middle of a project, or what, but I tried my best to move my brain past it and not put anymore thought into it. Whatever it was, Bobby probably had to deal with it on his own, or he would've told me.

Right?

"Motherfucker," I growl, punching Crowley's floating face away from me. I half-smile when I hear him moan and his body thump on the floor. I push through the struggle of sitting up and glare at him through my hand as it rubs my head.

He laughs, rubbing his face as well. "You pack a hard punch for someone barely conscious."

"I try," I beam mockingly. "Which you did as well, too fucking hard. I asked you to wake me up, not put me back under."

All he does is laugh, still rubbing his face. "You seem fine now, though. And you were only out about a couple hours, nothing to worry about."

Wordlessly I sink down to his level and sit on his lap, straddling him. "You seem pretty confident that I'm not angry with you."

He shoots me a cocky smile. "Oh, I know you're not, darling. You asked for it."

"Did I?" He nods, craning his neck in an attempt to kiss me. I place a finger on his lips and lean back. "Oh no, no, no sir. You are going to have to earn that."

Crowley fails to mask the desperation on his face. "And how do I do that, my queen?"

I trail my hand down his torso and press the heel of my palm against his bulging member, causing him to flinch. I raise an eyebrow at him. "Seriously?"

He shrugs his shoulders, trying to play off the strain on his face. "Pathetic, I know." I roll my eyes and sigh, looking away from him. "Take it as a compliment, love." I make a point of reluctantly glancing back in his direction and put more pressure on my palm. A rasped groan escapes Crowley's lips, and he reaches for me again. After a few seconds of our lips playing cat and mouse, I allow them to finally meet. I drink him in, drink in his scent and it takes all my will power not to have him right here and now. My hands snake up to begin unbuttoning his shirt, though I decide against it and break away from the kiss. Crowley groans loudly in frustration. "What the hell are you doing?" he asks through ragged breaths.

"Why? What does it seem like I'm doing?"

"Torturing and playing off a man trying to be intimate with the woman he loves?"

"Please. I torture all my friends. It's how I show love," I murmur against his lips, then stand up and walk back over to the bed. Crowley grunts as he gets back on his feet and follows me, resting his hands on my shoulders. I brush his hands off and turn around, shooting my hand up to grab his face and pulling it down so he was looking me in the eye. He tries to cringe away from my grip, but I only move my hand down slightly and re-tighten my grip around his neck, causing him to flinch. I smile and lean upwards to kiss him, moving my hand to the nape of his neck and running my fingers through his hair. His hands begin moving from my legs upwards, one coming up behind my shoulders and the other resting on the small of my back, pulling me more into him.

"You know," Crowley says, breaking the kiss, "I'm almost glad that redneck took and tortured us."

I cock my head to the side. "And why the hell would you say that?" I try to ask casually.

"Because I'm fairly certain that if he hadn't, we wouldn't be here right now." When I say nothing, he continues, "What I mean to say, is that if you hadn't rescued me and brought me back to your apartment, and then asking me to get you out, you wouldn't still be in my life. That was probably one of the best decisions I ever made, picking you up in that bar. Once it went south and I thought I'd never see you again, it was highly depressing." I scoff. "No seriously! I mean it, Ruby."

That reminded me of something. "Okay, but answer me this: That one night you broke into my apartment while I was out—"

"With that gay man-whore Canton? How could I forget?"

I smack his shoulder and continue, "And you drugged me. What the hell was that about? Will you tell me now?" My eyes grow wide as I witness the blood rush to Crowley's face and his cheeks turn bright red. "Oh my god," I hold back cooing laughter, "what could possibly be so bad or embarrassing to make the King of Hell blush?"

Crowley clears his throat and averts his eyes. "Do you want the honest answer? Or shall we just move past this whole endeavor and resume our mid-morning fuck?" he enunciates the 'ck' and drags it out awhile, awaiting my comment.

"I want to know what happened," I say simply, not bothering to hold back my laughter anymore.

Reluctantly, Crowley looks me in the eye and says, "Honestly? I put a sedative in your beer to transport you efficiently in a timely manner to my house, and possibly onwards. A little birdy revealed to me some intel about Bobby soon after Sam's…passing. I guessed he might make a move on you, so I wanted to get there first." So Bobby was telling the truth…

"And that involved drugging me to get me away from my house?"

He shrugs. "We had to move fast and I was positive that if I told you the complete truth it would be the exact opposite of fast."

I nod. Admittedly, he did have a point. If he had shown up in my apartment and been like, "Hey, Sam's dead, I might have killed him, and Bobby blames you somewhat for his death so come along, Ruby we have to make haste," I would have, first of all, smacked him stupid, then screamed at him, kick him out, and then I would've been gone, taken by Bobby. Well, that happened anyways, but still.

Listen to me, justifying a strange man knocking me out with drugs and attempting to kidnap me. "It is beyond fucked up that I love you, that I allow you to and accept all this shit you do to me."

"Now that you say it, yes. Yes it is." He shoots me a thousand-watt smile.

I lean back in his arms and look him over. "Can I slap you like a normal person for drugging me now?"

Crowley steps back and gestures to his face dramatically. "Do your worst," he laughs.

I reciprocate his laughter and am unable to hold my word. "Ach, now I can't! Not when you do it like that!"

He breaks his pose and smiles back at me. Before I can make any move against him, he pulls me to him and makes us fall back onto the bed, maneuvering us so he is now straddling over me. He opens his mouth to say something, but I kiss him quick and say, "With all due respect, sir: shut the fuck up." Crowley closes his mouth and smiles slyly at me, then begins the job of stripping me of my clothes, until a few moments later I am laying underneath him in only my bra and panties. He runs his hands along my arms, down my torso and my legs, feeling every inch of me with his soft fingers. I shudder under his touch, and he begins to trail kisses from my waist up to my neck and finally my mouth, reeling me in to a deep, heated kiss. "Have I earned you, yet?" he breathes against me. All I can do is nod as I pull him back to me and press our lips together again, while Crowley's hands continue to move around my body, as if unsure of where to plant them. I close my eyes and lose myself in his lips and hands, thinking how amazing it is that after all this time he is still able to leave me speechless and lustful.

My hands move to do the same, but instead shove him upwards and say, "Fuck, Crowley, take your clothes off." Without hesitation Crowley wiggles out of his suit jacket and begins unbuttoning his shirt as I begin undoing his pants. He quickly hops off the bed to kick his pants and boxers off, and I shimmy out of my panties, which soon join the now-apparent heap of clothes on the floor. Crowley crawls back onto the bed and over me. I breathe out a satisfactory sigh once my hands make contact with his heated skin and proceed to run them down his heaving chest, around his shoulders, unable to keep still or decide where to keep them. Crowley does the same with his lips, sucking me dry as he teases my entrance, making me fidget uncomfortably as my arousal becomes more apparent. My breaths begin to leave my mouth in short rasps between kisses, and my fingers dig into his shoulder blades as I restrain myself from yelling at him or asking for anything, not wanting to come off as 'too desperate'. But good Lord, Crowley needed to do something soon or his queen is not going to be too happy.

I whimper when Crowley's presence disappears from my nether regions entirely, seemingly denying me any pleasure for the time-being. I bite my lip hard, continuing to silence my pressing desires and complaints. He tilts my chin towards him with two fingers and bends down to reel me into a deep kiss, all the while he pries my hands away from his shoulders and slides them up over my head until they caress the wooden posts of the headboard. "I found them," he whispers against my sore lips. I look at him skeptically, not understanding the items he is referring to.

I get my answer a few moments later when suddenly there's the cool feeling of metal pressing around my wrists. I tilt my gaze upwards and, sure enough, Crowley has just restrained me to his bed with handcuffs. "Please tell me you did not go out and buy these after that little episode of ours," I drag out while rattling around in the cuffs, the anticipation rising in my throat causing my voice to break.

Crowley mocks disbelief and counters, "I told you I left them in the car, didn't I?"

"You own a set of handcuffs?" I ask, surprised. Though I probably shouldn't be, now that I think about it.

He shrugs his shoulders and smiles at me, making me melt further. "They come in handy every now and then." I can't help but smile back. The joking atmosphere nearly immediately turns back into one of lust and power, Crowley taking my face in his hands roughly and planting a short-lived bruising kiss that, again, sends my head spinning. He makes a trail of kisses down my chin, my neck, my torso, spreading my legs while still continuing downwards until he reaches my throbbing entrance. I moan and my back arches off the bed in an attempt to ease my quivering body somewhat, only to be slammed back down and detained by one of his strong hands. Crowley snickers and goes to work, continuing to hold me down. His tongue snakes out and teases along my clit before licking a line to my hole, which he laps into almost greedily. I try and fail at suppressing a groan, which unwillingly escalates as his tongue becomes more persistent against that sweet spot. My body begins to thrash and it becomes unbearable to be so restrained. I am on the verge of screaming when both my voice and breath are snagged by something as my peak, my release start to protest my lack of them.

Crowley detaches himself for a moment to sooth, "It's okay, my queen. Please, release yourself." I bite my lip again and shake my head, moaning in dissent. The hand splayed on my stomach pushes itself up to my neck, Crowley following it soon after. He squeezes just enough to hinder my air supply only slightly, then growls next to my painfully scrunched face, "If I tell you to cum, then you fucking cum, pet." I moan again, though this time in reluctant obedience. He harshly releases his grip on my throat and air begins to revitalise my lungs as he resumes his position between my legs, hand pressed on my stomach, intent on finishing the task he started. Unwillingly, noises begin escaping my throat as I build back up, still hesitant about letting myself go. Crowley seems to sense this and starts clawing down my legs, making me shudder even more. "Ruby," he growls again.

I try to sigh in annoyance, but I am not sure what otherworldly sound comes out instead. But then I'm unable to deny my body any longer and I allow the orgasm to shoot through me, though it's laced with pain as I still hold back my release. I inhale my screams as the feelings become so intense that I'm incapable of breathing normally any longer. Crowley grips me with his hands tighter, undoubtedly leaving bruises for me to wake up to. "I can do this all night, love," he snarls, "Take you, ride you, to your peak, then above, over and over until there's nothing left of you and you have no bloody choice but to cum for your king."

"Holy fuck," I manage to mutter, throwing my head back and trying to get some message across to my body to calm the fuck down. Which doesn't seem to be working.

Crowley purposely pushes down hard on my torso as he pulls himself back up to my level and he looks into my strained eyes with practised patience. I stifle a groan and try to look him back with composure but am unable to, my face contorted in more of a grimace. He places his hands on either side of my waist and trails them up slowly until they trace my arms up to my wrists, where he settles his hands. My uncontrollable moans and shivers don't seem to faze him as he continues to look me over and torture me slowly. One hand leaves mine and grasps at the nape of my neck, tugging me upwards and locking our lips together. This relaxes me somewhat and I deepen the kiss as much as I am able to in my current situation. Making myself oblivious to anything else other than his lips, I'm caught unawares when he thrusts into me and accidently drag my teeth down his lower lip, drawing blood. I stare at it and reach up to lick it off, trying to convey my apologies through my kiss. He returns the favour, but pulls back and slaps me across the jaw anyways, aiming to draw some blood of his own. The metallic taste that follows confirms his victory. He kisses me gently, soothing my hurt lip, then begins pumping in and out, grinding harshly against me.

It is now that I begin to really fight against the cuffs, the urges killing me. Crowley, somehow, manages to go even deeper, even faster, even harder. Our bodies move in a frenzy against each other, succumbing to their desperation and demanding more than either of us can give. He rides me to my peak again, then even further as the orgasm he induces overpowers every single atom of my existence and I legitimately can do nothing other than exist. I can't move, I can't think, I can't breathe; only be there and feel that sensation, that pleasure that is unlike anything anyone has ever felt before.

I don't know how long I remained in that euphoric state, though when my other senses start coming back to me, it is slow-going and shocking. Muffled noise slowly builds into deafening screams and howls and uncontrollable utterances unable to break for air. I can't tell which body belongs to who and all I can feel is heat and slickness and the dying-out of my pleasure, intensifying my cries. An unidentifiable amount of time passes by before I realise that I am no longer restrained in anyway. Lethargically I grope the air until I make contact with skin and pull myself closer to it, feeling naked without it. My breathing becomes unpainful as my lungs relay that they are finally satisfied, my heartbeat reduced back to normalcy. I am not sure when I'm dragged into unconsciousness, but I do know that things between Crowley and I will never be the same.