Disclaimer: I don't own a thing. Duh. XD A. N. Hope you enjoy!
Sam texted him again after... Well, later than Crowley wished (he'd really like to spend most of his time with Moose, if it was at all feasible), but apparently all too early for his own tastes.
-You better have some damn good explanations. I'd hate for strike two to happen already.
Oops. Crowley had been on best behaviour, really. Exactly because he didn't want to risk pushing too hard when Moose was already frustrated with him. Occasional naughtiness, sure, it spiced the relationship. But you had to find the exact balance. So what was this about? - I'm sure I do, but we're working on a three strikes and out formula anyway, right? When sport and laws – well, some – agree on the issue. No matter what rules you go by, I should have one last chance.
-Come here.
The address followed. No reassurance for him. Then again, maybe Sam just preferred talking in person to texting. Crowley shared the sentiment.
Moose opened the door to let him in, already looking thunderous. The bitchface was definitely high on the scale.
"What got your panties in a twist?" So maybe Crowley shouldn't have been that confrontational, but he was reasonably sure that he hadn't done anything that justified such an attitude.
"We went after a werewolf." Tone clipped.
"Sounds nice. Was it after as in hunting, or propositioning? I hope you know I'm not the jealous type, and they can be right up your alley..." He shrugged.
Sam did smile at that - well, bared his teeth might have been more correct. If he did end up biting him, Crowley wouldn't be surprised. "Hunting. And you knew."
"Yeah, okay, I did. You did say we, and I don't see you much into threesomes, especially ones involving Squirrel." Winchester boundaries could often be from blurry to straight up non-existent, but the few that resisted wouldn't go down even with a bomb.
"Though, my clothes did get ripped a bit. Normally, I wouldn't even notice, but... something tumbled to the floor. Loudly. Imagine my surprise when, wolf killed and having to clean up the scene, I found this."
Oh.
Yep, his little bug was sitting...actually, on Sam's bed. Weird choice, possibly, but Crowley would have to dissect it later. Just the fact that he'd been called meant that Moose recognized it, so lying about it wouldn't be useful.
"Well, since we'd been so rudely interrupted in the midst of fun..."
"Wait, what? Fun? This - isn't from last time?" Moose's frown deepened.
"Of course not. Last time, I wouldn't do anything that could possibly make you angrier at me. I'm not that big of a masochist. Or reckless." Crowley rolled his eyes. As if he'd be so dumb.
Sam shook his head, and actually looked rather canine. "No, I...I would have found it in the meantime. If you had."
The demon grinned. "The old model, sure, you would have. When you were bored, if nothing else. This one is very good at sticking to cloth...and it comes with a low-level, well, I'd call it a tactile-focused perception filter. I actually got the idea from Doctor Who. I didn't think more senses were needed. Still as it was, it wouldn't clang against other things you might put in there, and people don't usually go peering inside their own pockets."
He should have considered how likely the literal destruction of the involved garment was, what with the boys' lifestyle. Not everyone had his level of care for one's attire.
His (well-deserved, he'd still argue) pride might have misplaced, though. "You've been spying. On us. Since that time in the woods near the bunker," Moose growled darkly, and if it wasn't so damn sexy, Crowley would worry more.
"On you, actually. It's not my fault you spend way too much time with your brother."
"Why?" Another growl.
"Why does anyone with none of the common morals and the option to spy on a partner? I could serenade you with Aerosmith, but I thought you'd understand. How they get featured in romance stories instead of horror I'll never know, since they didn't deal."
"What?" Moose's fury had waned, confusion taking its place. Which just meant that he'd gone from hot to cute, when someone else would have looked dumb. The man didn't know how lucky he'd been with his genes.
"Oh come on. I know it's a '98 song, but you and Squirrel aren't actually joined at the hip. Don't tell me you haven't ever heard that one. At the very least in Armaggedon - the movie, I mean. There were explosions. It should be even up your brother's alley."
"Can you stop beating around the bush for five minutes?"
Nope. No, he couldn't. But he could croon. Just the first line. "… I could stay awake just to hear you breathing..."
Moose's groan was earned. Second-hand embarrassment wouldn't be the thing that did the man in, though. Crowley wisely shut up.
"Be serious, please. This is no laughing matter. You can't just act ridiculous and get out of trouble," the hunter huffed.
"Can't I? You're not trying to bite my head off anymore. Making sure you're not bitey sounds like success to me. Besides, I wasn't lying. Sad, I know." He shrugged. Pathetic, even. But admitting it was a better option than leaving Sam convinced that possibly apocalyptic reasons were behind his snooping.
"So you just don't wanna miss a thing?" Moose sneered at him, but still nowhere close to his previous level of annoyance.
"I'm greedy. Are you surprised by that, truly?" Oh yes, that made him sound a little less like a wretched fool.
"Greedy? Is that really what you're calling it?"
"Yep. I know my sins. And this is by far not the worse I've done. Really, I don't know why you're so pissed. It's not like I've actually harmed anyone." Risky play, but that had always been important in the man's moral assessment.
"Yet," Sam snapped. "How do I know you weren't waiting to learn something, or find the right occasion, or -"
"I don't need to. You both are more than apt at getting into messes all on your earnest own. Pushing any of you towards anything ruinous? It'd be boring at this point. And sure, maybe useful in some circumstances, but I like a challenge. I can solve any problems I might have without you Winchesters barrelling in and trampling the field, so to speak. You'll see."
"Oh, will I?" Moose challenged.
"I certainly hope so. Know what, what do you say to evening things out between us?"
"What would that mean?" Sam frowned.
"I could wear one, and give you a receiver. Spy all you want. Just don't blame me if you lose a few braincells as a result, because without an actual target to play with? Demons are the most boring bunch you'll ever meet."
Moose laughed. "Somehow, I doubt that boring is the worst that can be said for your subjects."
"The worst for an eavesdropper, definitely. And honestly, the worst for someone they have learned not to test in other ways, too. That's the problem. The smart ones know better than to make a deal, rare exceptions aside, so I'm left with a crowd of idiot subjects. Which is why I can't promise much if you accept. Unless you're into...frankly, actual phone sex would probably be more entertaining for everyone."
"You're assuming I'd still be interested in you that way." Sam had swapped back to haughty. As much as it suited him (it was hellish hard to find anything that didn't suit him, that was half Crowley's problem), if he wanted to see some grovelling, he needed to do better.
"Darling, didn't I tell you already? You're good, but don't try to con me. I have more experience than you can dream about. If you weren't still interested that way, things would have gone very differently today." The demon allowed himself a smirk.
"Different how, if you know everything?" Sam's arms crossed in front of his chest.
Crowley wasn't going to let those muscles distract him. "Much stabbier, for one. Unless you want to say that yes, of course, you're dumping me, but you've enjoyed our outings so much that you want to stay friends despite that. No kissing or anything is required to enjoy art together, after all."
Would he be disappointed if it turned out that he'd managed to jeopardize their relationship before getting Moose in bed even once? Of fucking course. But if he'd snared him tight enough to make him ask to stay friends, it could be a victory worth crowing about anyway. And besides, it'd still give him access to the boy...time enough and care, and he might eventually succeed.
"I'm not exactly the staying friends with exes type," Sam pointed out, eyes rolling.
"Force majeure usually, though. So your habit doesn't count," Crowley retorted,. "So? Where do we stand...or lie?"
"I hate you." Any heat had waned from Moose's voice, though. This wasn't a predator's last warning. If anything (not that Crowley was going to say it, he didn't want to undo all his hard work) it sounded a little bratty.
"Sweet," he quipped.
"Really though, most people at least try to pretend to be contrite when they're caught doing something they shouldn't," Sam pointed out, raising an eyebrow.
"Sorry, were you labouring under the misapprehension that I'm most people? Or that you'd like me if I were average?" Crowley smiled. "Accept my offer of reparations, or don't. Make your own demands. I promise I'll take them under due consideration. But pretending to be sorry? What, like you would believe me? Or pretend to? I'm definitely interested in acting, but it's the pointlessness of it I object to."
"The point..." Moose started, before trailing off. Figured out that a lesson in politeness, possibly including the historical and anthropological angles, would be wasted on a demon. Especially a demon who'd existed through times that put much more importance on the intricacies of formal behaviour. He scoffed to himself. "The point is you're an asshole."
"And you're keeping up the compliments."
Moose rolled his eyes. "Know what? Since it's your second strike, I'll take your offer...and reserve one extra option too. When I figure out how to make you regret this, you'll know how to clean your slate entirely."
"Fine by me. I love how much thought you put into this relationship. Makes me feel really loved. I'll be back in a minute."
"What for?" Sam grabbed him by the wrist.
"Well, I'm going to get your receiver, obviously."
"I'll take the one you have on you, thanks. And you can wear that," he said, pointing to the device he'd found.
Crowley laughed. "You know me so well. Fine, fine. Just saying, though, you don't have to find excuses to get me on your bed." He marched towards it.
"Don't even joke. You haven't earned that yet."
"Noted." Especially the yet. Oh, he'd noted it, alright.
He took back the little bug, and pocketed it. From his other pocket, he took the receiver, presenting it with a little bit of a flourish. "Actually, lend me your phone."
"What for?" Sam asked.
"I'll plug this into it. Well, not literally, but there's a little spell that will have the same function. I thought maybe you might not want Squirrel to see you fiddling with things he doesn't understand."
"You think I'll hide it from him?" Moose asked, with a quick bitchface.
"Honestly? Not at all. Now, the reason why you have such unfettered access...Unless he already knows, I think you might keep it quiet. No reason to stress him out over things that can't be undone, right? What I heard, I heard. It's not like I've been privy to anything especially sinful, more's the pity."
"You weren't around, so what else did you expect?" Sam retorted.
"Oh come on. As much as I admire you, we both know you're no saint."
"I never said that." Moose frowned. "Actually, do what you said...and then get out." He offered Crowley his phone.
"Ouch. Rude, Moose. Don't hurt my feelings," he replied, even while he listened to the first half of that order.
"Sorry," Sam said - automatically, though, from the way he looked surprised himself. "But you're the most frustratingly confusing person I know. Every time I think I have everything figured out, something happens and it turns out that no, I don't even know one third of the truth. So, please, could you leave while I try to understand which way is up...again...and decide what the perfect other half of your reparations should be?"
"I guess I could. But don't take too long. Without my little device, the temptation to come check on you in person might prove too strong if you leave me hanging."
"I'll keep it in mind," Sam promised, with a smile that said he might just decide to make it happen.
"Bye, then." Hey, he had manners.