#bobbycrowley

[smashmpregcastiel]

@romanticfistfightz had a vision

(for nonpolish speakers. its basically like. "delete this" "i wont bc i love you")

[ruthlivdestiel]

For those of yall who need wallpapers of 'em...

[multishippingrocks]

Title/Link: Colder Without You In It

Author Summary: It felt wrong to wake up in the middle of the night, alone in the bed that had someone in it only moments before.

Rating: Not Rated

Opinion: Sweet, tooth decayingly sweet Crobby fluff. Its so adorable I could throw up. I love it

[diminuel]

The armada is still sailing

violethyena replied to your post: Just a little note that I actually got some ship...

Omg, I feel like I’m 5 hours late to the Armanda with tea. (I was sleeping)

violethyena replied to your post: Shipping part 3

Dean/Aaron, Bobby/Crowley, (You already did Sabriel) and I want you to contemplate Benny/Balthazar (I think I’m the only one to ship this so far).

Not easy!

Dean/Aaron: If he had been Dean's gay thing I wouldn't have complained too much! I wouldn't search fanfiction or fanart for it, but I could enjoy some pining or "it could have been" on Dean's side. Because I think Aaron, even if he is into men, wasn't all that interested in Dean. And that might have been a blow! Poor Dean! ;w; So it might be cute to have him think about Aaron from time to time, maybe even call him once or twice just to check up on him (and making sure that there really wasn't anything going on? No? Okay then :C)

Bobby/Crowley: Another pairing I don't ship, but don't mind! The amount of teasing Crowley did was fantastic and they did have that deal sealing kiss~ I guess the bantering would also be the best thing about that ship! And Crowley constantly frowning at the bad alcohol. 

Benny/Balthazar: Oh? Hah! You might have to tell me more about it. Balthazar goes into the "dead so I don't think about ships" categories (Benny doesn't though) so this has never even crossed my mind. Well, if we pretend that Benny didn't return to Purgatory, but stayed somewhere and that Balthazar didn't get stabbed, they might have met. Let's follow up on this thought. Maybe Benny was hanging out in a bar, not the usual  place where he could run into a Hunter. No, something a bit more family friendly. Where he meets an angel in hiding who usually would sip something far too expensive in a high class establishment, but since angels have been falling and he'd better keep his head down.

Both'd probably know the other was something supernatural, but they don't ask questions. Maybe they can enjoy each other's company, maybe they'd even get to talk about the people they both know (and what a surprise, if Balthazar and Fate were on speaking terms, he might have thanked her for this chance encounter).

And I guess the rest can turn out either way??

(Sorry, it's almost 3 a.m. I don't know if my sentences still make sense *lol*)

[allourheroes]

Run With The Devil (Supernatural) - Chapter Forty-Five

~2800 words. NC-17. Dean/Cas. Bobby/Crowley. Little bit of Sam/Gabe and Sam/Luci.

This has been close to done for so long, but I finally posted my mini-bang yesterday...so I figured I needed to finish. New season starts tomorrow!

[ Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Nineteen | Chapter Twenty | Chapter Twenty-One | Chapter Twenty-Two | Chapter Twenty-Three | Chapter Twenty-Four | Chapter Twenty-Five | Chapter Twenty-Six | Chapter Twenty-Seven | Chapter Twenty-Eight | Chapter Twenty-Nine | Chapter Thirty | Chapter Thirty-One | Chapter Thirty-Two | Chapter Thirty-Three | Chapter Thirty-Four | Chapter Thirty-Five | Chapter Thirty-Six | Chapter Thirty-Seven | Chapter Thirty-Eight | Chapter Thirty-Nine | Chapter Forty | Chapter Forty-One | Chapter Forty-Two | Chapter Forty-Three | Chapter Forty-Four ]

“It was a joke,” Crowley assured, but Bobby still eyed him warily as they grabbed their things.

~

Dean wasn’t sure how Bobby had gotten him to leave his younger brother with a demon and the devil himself, but it was just how things had worked out. Bobby wouldn’t let anything happen to Sammy, Dean knew, but…at the same time, it didn’t really ease his nerves knowing Gabriel might be keeping them company as well.

It had been a day and a half now and Sam still seemed to be alive and...well, so there was that.

Castiel sat beside him in the passenger seat, looking serious as usual, staring out the window and occasionally glancing at Dean.

“It’s gonna be fine,” Dean said, although he knew it was just force of habit. If things weren’t fine, they’d probably all be dead anyway. No one could call him out on his bullshit then.

Castiel didn’t respond and Dean wondered if somehow, left to his own devices, he had already screwed up whatever they had going on, too. In a way, it would be a relief…but a really disappointing one, at that.

Dean turned up the music and sang along, knowing that would have cheered Sam up, at least.

The angel merely raised his eyebrows minutely and watched him.

Nudging him, Dean forced out a laugh, “C’mon, it’s a classic.”

Castiel nodded and looked back toward the road, frowning ever so slightly.

Dean sighed. A couple more hours and they’d stop at some motel where Cas wouldn’t sleep and Dean would try not to worry while compulsively cleaning his guns--not that they’d do much for his current predicament.

~

To “make it easier on him” Lucifer had decided he should have as little close contact with Sam as possible. This was abundantly more awkward considering the two of them were basically on a road trip with Bobby and Crowley, who were acting too much like parents for either of their liking.

Every time Sam would think to make a remark to Lucifer, even if it was only because he was stuck in the same predicament, he’d have to stop himself. This wasn’t a skill he excelled at.

Gabriel appeared in the backseat between them. “How’s it going?”

The rage in Bobby’s eyes was clear in the rearview mirror, “You want me to crash this damn thing?”

“Of course not,” Gabriel told him, leaning forward to stick his head between the demon and hunter. “I’m not trying to race you to heaven. Although…wouldn’t that be fun?”

No one replied.

Gabriel sat back with a huff, “God, you’re all so serious. Who died?”

“My parents,” Lucifer responded, ignoring the ache in his chest that came with the memory. He hadn’t really had to deal with it, hadn’t had time to. He figured continued ignorance could only do him good.

Sam felt a pang of sympathy, murmuring, “Sorry,” quickly before continuing pointedly, “And the rest of the planet if we don’t save it.”

Gabriel looked at Sam, expression rather stern considering who he was, “You’re cute. Have we met?” He smiled and it reminded Sam of a predator before it bit into its prey, but, then again, it was the apocalypse.

Resisting the urge to pull away--because Gabriel wasn’t just here to mess with them, he was going to help…or something--Sam extended his hand the extremely short distance to Gabriel, “Sam.”

“I know.” The archangel took his hand and pulled to his mouth, planting a kiss atop it.

Sam slipped his hand back into his lap as fast as he could manage, wishing he wasn’t blushing as he scoffed at Gabriel.

Gabriel’s appraising eyes swept up and down his body, “Hubba, hubba. Look at you.” He grinned with a bit of tooth this time and Sam knew he must be fucking with him, knowing that he and Lucifer were together. He probably just wanted a reaction out of him.

Sam shivered nervously and attempted to look any where but the archangel beside him.

“Hands to yourself, back there,” Bobby warned. “Boy’s only sixteen and you’re older than me. Not to mention a different species.”

“So’s he,” Gabriel said brightly, pointing to Lucifer.

“I’m aware of that,” the old hunter grumbled and Gabriel already had his attention back on Sam.

“You’ve grown up well,” the archangel joked with a wink.

Lucifer’s jaw tensed and his hands clenched, but he could wait it out. This time.

~

Dean threw his bag onto the bed and decided gun-cleaning and worrying could wait while he took a shower and got something to eat. He might have been used to it, but sitting in the car all day eating fast food did make a shower sound mighty appealing.

Not to mention he’d spent the night before sleeping in the car and calling Bobby about fifty times in a row with little concerns he thought the old man should take into consideration. As if he didn’t already know.

He and Cas had discussed only the game plan before, with a few drinks from his flask, he’d managed to pass out. Cas could keep an eye out while he made an attempt at rest.

In the reasonable comfort of the hotel, Dean was hungry. He had snatched a few take-out menus from the front desk and chose almost at random. Chinese food. He called it in.

The angel had his head tilted to the side and Dean knew what that meant. He was listening to his brothers and sisters, trying to find out whatever he could. It probably also gave him a sense of familiarity that became less and less comfortable as he was forced to slaughter his family, leaving him guilt-ridden.

Dean pushed away those thoughts as he placed the order and gave them his information. “Thirty minutes?” Dean confirmed and, with an affirmation, hung up the phone, eyeing Cas while the angel wasn’t doing the same. He headed to the bathroom, “Hey, I’m gonna shower. So…if the delivery guy comes, give him a few bucks and take the food, Cas, alright?”

He took a long shower, longer than he had allowed himself in a while. Even during their almost vacation-like stay at Bobby’s, there were other people to worry about--whether just that they were there or because he had to share the shower with them. Plus, he didn’t need Crowley and Lucifer of all “people” judging him.

When he emerged from the fog of steam and back into the room, there was food on the table and Cas sitting awkwardly beside it.

He rubbed the smaller towel over his hair, aware of the fact that he was almost naked in front of the angel again. He wasn’t sure whether he should treat it like he did the day Cas had told him about Lucifer or more like two days ago when he and Cas had… Well, yeah.

It shouldn’t really matter. It wasn’t as if Cas really cared about those things anyway.

Throwing the small towel on the floor--Sam wasn’t here to scold him for it, he’d do as he liked, thank you very much--Dean sat down in the chair across from Castiel, popped open a box, and broke apart the little wooden chopsticks that were a borderline safety hazard. Before he took a bite of his chow mein, he tilted it towards Cas, “Want some?”

The angel shook his head and Dean was midway through slurping his first bite of noodles into his mouth when Castiel looked at him.

He froze in place for a second before realizing how utterly ridiculous he must look. Swallowing down his food with an audible gulp, Dean set down the chopsticks. That was not a “we’re allies and I guess I trust you” affirmation of a look, or a “our friendship means a lot to me” look… No, it was definitely a “if you don’t take your clothes off now I’m going to smite you” look. Which was one Dean was generally familiar with, only this time with a Cas twist to it.

He also didn’t really have to remove much.

Dean lifted an eyebrow, “Cas?” The angel seemed to acknowledge, but said nothing. “C’mere.” He pulled himself to his feet and hauled Cas up to face him, letting his towel fall to the floor. Completely naked in front of someone who was both fully clothed and very powerful wasn’t a kind of vulnerable Dean liked to be, but it was Cas.

The angel kissed him first, crushing his mouth to Dean’s so quickly Dean wondered if he was going to have to remind him that humans needed air. He pushed the trench coat and jacket off in one movement, but as soon as Cas dropped them, his hands were roaming Dean’s body.

His mouth left Dean’s to suck at his throat, his collarbone, his chest, dropping to his knees as he gradually moved lower. “Cas, you--you don’t have to--”

Castiel’s tongue swiped over the head of his cock and Dean’s knees almost buckled. It’s not the mere fact that someone’s mouth was on him, but he could see a disheveled angel looking up at him with those unearthly blue eyes as his lips wrapped around his cock and it was almost too much.

Dean bit his lip, watching Castiel’s mouth sink around him. He could feel the angel’s tongue on him and his eyes fell closed.

Barely a minute later, Castiel pulled back, “Dean, I need-- I want you to--”

The frustration Dean felt at Castiel’s sudden halt was made up for by his flustered speech. “What do you want me to do, Cas?” The huskiness of his voice was betrayed by his amusement.

“Dean.”

The sound was so plaintive that Dean couldn’t help the chuckle that came out. “What?”

Castiel stood and started fumbling with the buttons of his own shirt instead of giving Dean the verbal answer he had wanted. With Dean’s assistance, he’s stripped down to nothingness.

Dean’s eyes met Castiel’s. “Cas?” he tried again.

Confidence somehow restored by this chain of events, Castiel spoke in no uncertain terms, “Fuck me.”

Dean has always appreciated someone who could tell him what they wanted--even if it did take a while. Scenarios flashed through his head, and despite the selfish part of his libido telling him one thing, he decided he ought to choose something that would make Cas comfortable, and not just physically. Well, there would be some discomfort any way they did it--which he was still very aware of, although no longer so bothered by--he could minimize it.

“Alright,” he said, palming Castiel’s erection, slipping his fingers around it and stroking it a few times.

The angels eyes were alight, open and begging. He kissed Dean fervently, causing the hunter to nearly stagger backwards. Pulling Castiel with him, Dean settled onto the bed, his back against the headboard.

Wariness gone, Castiel straddled Dean’s thighs and with the way the angel was already rutting against him, Dean knew he should’ve grabbed lube before he got them here. Before he can scrabble for something--anything--he can use, he sees a bottle on the nightstand and can see just how far ahead Castiel had planned while he had been in the shower.

He slicked his fingers, body reacting unconsciously to Castiel’s movement, and looked to Cas for affirmation. He worked in one finger, making Castiel wriggle against him, allowing more human instincts to take hold, then another. It was tight and the stretch was difficult, but he could feel Castiel’s body giving in, his desire for Dean to have him just as he’d had Dean making things easier. With the third, Castiel’s impatience had grown to substantial levels, what with the way he was ordering Dean to fuck him already.

Dean had only seen the angel so undone when they’d been together before, but it was something he was growing fonder and fonder of. He kissed him again, mouth trailing down his jaw, to his throat, biting and sucking at the skin he found, fingers pushing and pressing and stretching until he knew Castiel could take it.

He removed them carefully and Castiel waited, watching him. “Dean.”

A few slicking strokes to his cock later, he lined himself up with the angel, moving slowly enough to make Cas take matters into his own hands.

The angel pushed back against him, sliding himself down the length of Dean’s cock.

Dean rested his head on the angel’s shoulder, still attempting to hold back, despite Castiel’s enthusiasm. “Don’t wanna hurt you,” he murmured into the angel’s skin. Not more than he already had, having forced a fucking angel into rebellion, into fighting his own, into helping Dean and losing everything in the process.

Castiel shifted, pushing Dean back against the headboard to look him in the eyes, “I made my choices, Dean. I know I’m on the right path.”

Hating how well Castiel knew him, Dean could only nod. To distract from the rapidly increasing amounts of emotion he never wanted to deal with, Dean rolled his hips, eliciting a response from the angel, the incremental press of their bodies together. “You gonna have your way with me or what?” Dean smirked, slightly breathless--not choked up, alright?

The angel began to move and Dean responded in kind, their bodies slotting together perfectly, the heat of Castiel’s body on his causing the friction to ease as they became sweat-slick and sticky.

Castiel arched forward, resting his forehead against Dean’s and hips continuing. His cock rested heavily between them, a stripe of heat across Dean’s abdomen. Dean curled his fingers around it, stroking it as their eyes locked.

“Dean,” Castiel murmured, voice sounding hoarse and difficult to hear over Dean’s own heartbeat thundering in his ears.

The hunter closed his eyes, almost dizzy trying to keep his eyes on the angel’s with their heads as they were. He moved his hand from between them and wrapped the arm around Castiel’s back, “Go with me here.” He felt more than saw Castiel’s nod and slanted their bodies across the bed, rolling them over so he could be on top. “Alright?”

“Yes,” the angel responded and wriggled underneath him.

Dean chuckled, “Good.” He settled himself more comfortably between Castiel’s legs, one slipping over his own. Catching his breath, he began to move again. In almost that instant, Castiel’s hands came up to clutch at his shoulders, more forceful than he meant to be, but Dean knew what had happened. With his next thrust, he watched the angel’s face, the way it contorted--mouth open, crying out soundlessly. “Like that?” He grinned, restraining himself for a second.

With no response other than a gasp, Dean let his hand slide back to Castiel’s cock, syncing his rhythm and causing his angel to grapple at him again, to hold on for dear life. He moved faster now, quick and precise as long as he could stand it, but it soon lost out to the pleasure sweeping over him. “God, Cas…”

Cas ignored the blasphemy as the intensity of it caught him off guard and he was groaning, burying his face into Dean’s chest, barely aware of the hot wetness painting across them both.

“Fuck,” Dean cursed, unable to control himself as his hips snapped, Castiel’s muscles still clenching and unclenching around him. “Cas, I-- unh.” He gasped, pouring himself into the angel beneath him.

What felt like moments later, Dean slid himself out and managed to flop down beside Cas.

“Damn, I’m hungry.”

~

“So, you’re just going to let him hit on you?” Lucifer asked the moment Gabriel disappeared on them. It wasn’t because he and Sam were…had… No, he told himself. It was just how extremely inappropriate it was that made him voice the question, not because he had any right to judge Sam’s actions. Denying jealousy, however, only made its presence more clearly known.

Sam spared him a glance, eyebrows raised in disbelief, but refocused his attention out the windshield to the road. A spiteful part of him wanted to flirt back the next time the archangel paid them a visit, but mostly…it hurt. He leaned his head against the window, away from Lucifer.

The devil bit down his apology. Silence was best when he’d shown too much weakness already.

“That was the best you could find, huh?” Bobby aimed at Crowley.

The demon glared daggers in his direction until it turned to an amused smirk. “Think you could do better, darling?” he asked sweetly, sarcastically.

The old hunter grumbled something under his breath before inhaling deeply, “Glad you’re alright.”

“Me, too,” Crowley replied honestly. He placed his hand between them and Bobby’s soon covered it, intertwining their fingers.

[srs2012]

Go Team Crobby!

The Supernatural Rarepair Shipfest is a new fanworks competition celebrating the underappreciated ships of the Supernatural fandom.

If you ship Bobby/Crowley or any other rarepair, we would love to see you join in and show off how great your ship can be.

For more information, please check out our blog, or follow #srs 2012.

Shipping is SRS BSNS.

[queerbriel]

"Whiskey, whiskey on the shelf, you were so quiet there all by yourself, things were fine till they took you down"

A Crowley/Bobby fic

Bobby sat down with his book (The Great Gatsby, because for once there wasn’t a hunt that needed doing or an idjit that needed assisting) and his whiskey, crossed his legs on the footstool in front of him and began to read. He only got about twenty pages in before he realized he was being watched.

“Robert, darling- old age certainly is getting to you. I’ve been here for a whole five minutes and you haven’t even offered me a drink. Where are your manners,” Crowley asked with a smirk, willing a fifth of his favorite whiskey into existence on the side table. 

Bobby grumbled under his breath but he didn’t bother stopping Crowley from grabbing a glass and pouring himself a drink. The hunter went back to his book, pointedly ignoring Crowley who had ever so carefully perched himself on the arm of Bobby’s chair, reading over his shoulder.

“I’m hurt, Robert- you would choose a book over me?” 

“Why’re ya here anyways,Crowley?” 

Crowley smirked. 

“Just wanted to see my dearest human for a bit.” 

Bobby rolled his eyes, finally putting his book to the side. 

“You’re here for a booty-call, aren’t ya?”

The demon shrugged, as if to ask can you blame me, then leaned in and grabbed Bobby by the lapels, slotting their mouths together in a hard kiss 

“Mm, Robert, you taste of cheap whiskey,” Crowley purred, nosing at Bobby’s scruff. 

Bobby smirked, pulling Crowley back for another rough kiss to shut him up. The King of Hell ended up in his damn lap, straddling him like he belonged there. 

“Now darling, are we going to take this up to the bedroom? You know how much I love when you get romantic with me,”Crowley crooned, just being a pest. 

Bobby grumbled and undid Crowley’s trousers, shoving them down far enough to free the demon’s cock. He gave himself the same treatment, tugging Crowley closer so he could wrap his fist around both of their lengths. 

Crowleypurred and nipped at Bobby’s lips, kissing him hungrily as he rocked his hips along with the pace of the human’s hand. Bobby nearly growled, strokes quick and short and kisses (more like clashes of teeth with some lip in between) just as rough and hungry as Crowley’s. 

“Robert- hell, you sure know how to work with your hands.” 

A quickened pace of Bobby’s hand was all Crowley got in response. The demon came first (Bobby let himself be proud for all of 3 seconds before he came as well) and slumped against him, making contented noises and nuzzling Bobby’s collar. 

“You’re like a goddamn cat,” Bobby grumbled without much heat, grabbing for something to clean his hand off with and finding a handkerchief. 

Crowley nodded, face nestled in the crook of the human’s neck, clearly not planning on leaving yet. He closed his eyes and fell asleep (Demons don’t sleep, Robert) against Bobby’s chest. The hunter was sure the position would leave them both sore in the morning, but he couldn’t find a damn to give.

[allourheroes]

Run With The Devil (Supernatural) - Chapter Forty-Three

~1600 words. NC-17. Sam/Luci, Bobby/Crowley, Dean/Cas.

I'm the worst, I know. It's been a couple of weeks since I last updated this, but for some reason, this chapter had me in all sorts of writer's block and my muse has unfortunately been too busy to help a lady out. Anyway, I hope I don't lapse on this again. Because anyone still following it here is probably wondering what the fuck happened, especially with it so close to the end. I'm so, so sorry.

In other news, pretty sure this thing has just hit 50,000 words. Wow.

[ Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Nineteen | Chapter Twenty | Chapter Twenty-One | Chapter Twenty-Two | Chapter Twenty-Three | Chapter Twenty-Four | Chapter Twenty-Five | Chapter Twenty-Six | Chapter Twenty-Seven | Chapter Twenty-Eight | Chapter Twenty-Nine | Chapter Thirty | Chapter Thirty-One | Chapter Thirty-Two | Chapter Thirty-Three | Chapter Thirty-Four | Chapter Thirty-Five | Chapter Thirty-Six | Chapter Thirty-Seven | Chapter Thirty-Eight | Chapter Thirty-Nine | Chapter Forty | Chapter Forty-One | Chapter Forty-Two ]

~

He staggered backwards with the force of it, but Dean was up and catching him in no time, muttering, “Get that son of a bitch.”

With a push, Cas drove forward, knife embedded between his ribs, and arced a blade down through his brother’s collarbone and into his chest.

“Traitor,” the angel accused with its dying breath and the light exploded out of it.

Castiel pulled the knife from his chest and heard Dean scream Sam’s name. He saw it and, in the blink of an eye, appeared behind the angel and stabbed it in the back--Sam crumpling to the ground in pain as it died.

Lucifer nearly caught him on the way down, skidding on his knees across the dirt to hold him, still radiating power.

Castiel took a step back, allowing himself a second to breathe--to heal and regain his surroundings. It seemed like it was just them again, them and the strewn out corpses. He could sense it though--one more angel present.

Dean tilted his head toward the house, an arm around one side of Sam as Lucifer had the other--with Sam vehemently protesting between them that his legs were fine and to stop touching his wrists because that fucking hurts, you dicks (Sam wasn’t exactly used to being up in the action like that)--and Castiel nodded.

He could feel the twinge of pain where he’d been stabbed, even though it was just an ordinary wound, one that would probably heal in the next few seconds. He was in tune with this body though, there wasn’t a thing he couldn’t feel in its physicality. Another aspect that made him able to pretend he and Dean were almost the same sometimes--just enough.

Bobby, Crowley, and a surprisingly familiar guest awaited them in the house.

“Trickster.” Dean narrowed his eyes at the man sitting in the armchair. “I thought I killed you.”

Gabriel gave him a look, gesturing to his fully intact body, and raised his eyebrows. Obviously not dead. He watched Dean’s expression, the tightening of his jaw, and, satisfied with the hunter’s annoyance, shrugged, “Well, let’s just say I work multiple jobs.” He looked to Castiel and Lucifer--who was lending Sam a healing hand since hiding was no longer an issue. “What’s up, bros? Miss me?”

Lucifer barely spared him a glance as he shuffled Sam up the stairs, “No, not really.”

“Gabriel.” Castiel spoke tersely, pursing his lips.

The trickster pouted for a second, but his expression quickly faded to his normal smirk--Dean could’ve sworn it was his default face, one that screamed “dick” to everyone who saw him. “So, this is it?” Gabriel asked, gesturing to the upstairs and to those gathered in Bobby’s living room.

~

“I’m fine,” Sam protested as Lucifer pushed him down on the bed. The devil gave him a disbelieving look and Sam added, “Thanks, you know. For the--”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.”

Lucifer’s voice sounded strange. Sam still had trouble distinguishing the nuances and their meanings. He just…seemed like there were things he wasn’t saying and Sam wasn’t sure if they were important things--whether to the whole apocalypse business, to him, or about his past--or if it was just the normal worry of someone caught up in heavenly bullshit.

He propped himself up on his elbows, “What’s up with you? I mean, besides, you know, that.” What that was couldn’t be more obvious.

Lucifer crawled on top of him, hovering above his waist. Although he didn’t give Sam an actual answer, he held a finger to his lips and Sam dropped it--for now.

He then bit his lip because the devil was unbuttoning his jeans and, oh, fuck, he was already half-hard. He’d be embarrassed, even now, but Lucifer didn’t seem to mind. In fact, that seemed to be his goal here. Sam opened his mouth to speak again, but the devil was slipping him free of his jeans and dipping his head down, mouth open, tongue darting out to lick the head before he--“Oh, god.” He fisted the pillow behind his head, his hips bucking unconsciously.

Lucifer pulled his lips from Sam’s cock with a slurp and frowned playfully, “No, I think you mean the other one.”

“Lucifer.” Somehow, it came out far more breathless than Sam thought he was. Then again, Lucifer’s hand was slowly stroking him as he waited for Sam’s correction.

The devil swallowed him down, tongue flicking over the underside of the head as he came up, only to sink back down, groaning around Sam’s cock, the other boy’s back arching . His hand stroked the shaft in time with his movements, his lips wrapped tight around Sam, saliva running messily around him.

Sam couldn’t help thinking it was a little bit obscene, but mostly his thoughts consisted of “don’t stop” and “fuck, that’s good.” Lucifer may not have been overly experienced or anything, and this was not the perfect blow job, but, damn, it was fantastic for Sam. He tried his best not to fuck Lucifer’s mouth, but the devil seemed to be encouraging it, teasing his hips and trailing his fingers to the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, fondling his balls as he sucked, eyes on Sam. The other boy was murmuring things, curses, things like “there” and “don’t stop,” as well as moans far too guttural to even pretend to be words.

The Winchester gave in as Lucifer’s tongue toyed with him, slowing to drag his tongue over the slit and slurping on the head.

“Please, just…” Sam was breathing hard and, meeting Lucifer’s eyes, he whimpered a little as the devil merely slid his lips further down the shaft, waiting for Sam to move. With a groan, Sam let his hips snap upwards into the inviting heat of Lucifer’s mouth. He tried for gentle, but his hand went to grip Lucifer’s blonde hair, tugging at it, but effectively stilling him as he fucked his mouth.

The devil reached a hand down to press on his own erection through his jeans, moaning. His other hand moved to grip Sam’s hip, allowing himself to be more in tune with the movement.

Sam could feel it building, heat coiling in his belly as he thrust up again and again. He should pull away, and he tries, but Lucifer’s hand tightens around his hip, lips moving around him once more as he comes, shaking and mouth slack as he does.

Lucifer sucks it all down, pulling off and swallowing. He wipes a hand over his face and moves up Sam’s body, straddling his hips. Sam’s too dazed to keep track of time, and although he’s spent for the moment, the haze of lust still lingers and he watches, enraptured, as, in what seems to be only a second, Lucifer has undone his own jeans, sliding his cock out and stroking quickly. He pushes his shirt up, rucking it up above his ribs as he groans. The devil leans back, jerking his cock through a few more strokes before he’s shooting onto his own chest and stomach in thick stripes, panting.

Lucifer looked at Sam, a smile tugging at his lips, “That…was not wear I was intending this talk to go.” His shirt dropped over his stomach and made his previous efforts not to dirty it pointless.

Sam manages to close his mouth for a second, “Okay.” He knew that wasn’t what he needed to say, so he tried again, “What were you gonna tell me?”

“I was gonna…” His face screws up like he wonders if it’s the right word he’s thinking of. “Break up with you. Still should, really.”

Sam balks at him, “What? Why?”

“Sam…I’ve taken a bad situation and made it worse for you.” He sighed. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it was fun doing it. And…to be honest, I’d probably do it again, but…I knew they wanted you and only more so because of me.” This was an odd conversation to be having covered in semen, but there was no point in stopping now. “Hmm. How can I better explain? You’re a vessel. My vessel. I told you that. The fact that I’m screwing you only makes them want you for more than just holdings in the apocalypse.”

“So?” Sam said, suddenly stubborn. “It’s too late now anyway, right?”

“Not necessarily. If I was just using you, they might not care enough to, you know, torture you.”

~

“Is nobody going to heal me?” All eyes turned to Crowley as if he’d just interrupted the very important silent staring portion of the conversation--which he had. “We’ve already been found out.” He pointed to Castiel and then himself. “Hurry up now.”

Castiel glared at him a moment, but left Dean’s side, touching Crowley for a second and retreating back.

“Is this ‘Team Free Will’ thing just a bunch of you dudes screwing each other?” Gabriel asked finally, having observed enough to guess. Bobby coughed, turning red, and Crowley smirked, patting the old hunter’s knee, serving to embarrass him further. “’Cause I wouldn’t mind getting in on some of that action.” He sent a wink in Dean’s direction. The Winchester expression turned to disgust, arms crossing over his chest protectively, and the archangel chuckled. He was even more delighted to see the way Castiel’s lips thinned in anger, hands clenching into fists. “Jealousy looks good on you, bro.” The other angel tried to relax, but his glare was harder than ever.

“You gonna help us or what?” Dean spoke easily, the tension in the room giving him more than enough confidence to take charge.

Gabriel picked at his fingernails, “Maybe.”