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The waitress was a pretty little thing. She had long blonde hair tied in a braid down her back and shining blue eyes. She was mid-twenties with an athletic build and slim figure dressed in a pencil skirt and blouse. She was flirty and not in the service industry attitude, Crowley knew better. She couldn't stop glancing at him, a pink high in her cheeks. She bit her lip when he made eye contact and twisted the end of her braid on her fingers.
She poured him a glass of wine. Crowley made a show of swirling and inhaling through his nose. He let his eyes flutter closed and his chest heaved.
“Beautiful. You can really smell the rose. Here,” he said, holding out the glass. He kept it close to his face so she'd have to lean into him. She smiled and did so, her hair landing on his shoulder. He could see down her blouse and they both knew it. Lovely tits, modest in size, but soft and tucked away in black lace.
“You really can,” she said, meeting his eyes with a shy smile.
“Can I get a beer?” Bobby interrupted from across the table, loud and sharp.
“We have a few IPAs on tap,” the waitress said, straightening, her smile tight and forced.
“Got any Corona?” Bobby asked. Bobby knew better. They were at an upscale restaurant. He was trying to be an ass.
“I'm afraid not. We do have some brands with a similar palate,” she explained. Bobby's goading has done its job. Any good mood was soured.
“Guess that'll have to do,” Bobby said.
“I'll be right back with your drink,” she said, turning. She gave Crowley an apologetic look as she passed. Crowley continued to smile.
Bobby was grumpy, well grumpier than normal. He always was when Crowley flirted with anyone young and attractive. Crowley had liked the jealousy at first. It let him know how completely he had corrupted the other man. Now, it was getting old. It stemmed from the man's insecurities and was an ugly thing. Anyone Bobby assumed he might actually fuck was out of the question. The hot bus boy was a problem, but the grey-haired cashier was fine. Which was ridiculous because he'd fuck the shit out of a well kept septuagenarian.
He hadn't even started flirting with their waitress for his own benefit. He noticed Bobby blush when she'd greeted them and how he'd stumbled over his words. Crowley thought he could make a little threesome happen, make everyone happy. It'd been a year and three months since he'd had his mouth on anyone else. When this had started he had no intention of settling down, but here he was afraid to hurt Bobby's feelings. Crowley ignored his own needs. They were Bobby's needs too. The old man refused to accept that.
“Was that necessary?”
“What?” Bobby demanded, crossing his arms and leaning back.
“You know what you're doing,” Crowley said, rolling his eyes, “You being rude to the lovely lady.”
“I was rude? You were looking down her damn shirt,” Bobby argued.
“She wanted me to. She was showing off. It's called seduction. Some people understand it,” Crowley said, taking a sip of his wine, anticipating a fight.
“Why the hell did you bring me here if you were looking to pick up someone else?” Bobby said, almost shouting now. The nearby table turned to look at the commotion.
Funny. Bobby wouldn't let him touch him when they were in public. No kisses. No affection of any kind. Couldn't come off as gay after all. That is unless one's ego was bruised, it seems.
“I was going to pick her up for us,” he said, drawing out the ‘us’ so Bobby had to pay attention.
“Us?”
“Yes, us. A menage à trois. Threesome. The devil's triangle. You bending her over this very table while she's got my—" Crowley said, stopping when the lady in question brought the requested beer, “Thank you, sweetheart.”
He watched her throat jump as she swallowed. She liked the accent, he knew it. Wouldn't be the first time it got him laid. She smiled and was off. He watched Bobby's eyes follow her.
“Ain't no way she's gonna have anything to do with two old folks like us,” Bobby said. He took a sip of his drink, but it didn't hide the blush on his cheeks. He wanted this, but he didn't think he could have it.
That insecurity had to go.
---
Crowley thought up a plan, but let the topic cool down. Bobby was hard to deal with when he was offended. After another dinner out without incident and Crowley being on good behavior, the demon was ready to strike. He’d made himself absent for five days. Bobby always assumed it was for hellish duties, but sometimes he liked the reception he’d get after an extended absence. For someone who had admitted they rarely thought about sex, Bobby was ravenous now he was used to getting it regular. Five days without and he was mad for it.
“Everything alright?” Bobby asked first when Crowley appeared in his kitchen doorway as was tradition. He’d teleported himself into Bobby’s lap once and gotten rock salt shot into his chest. Not again.
“Yes, dear. Did you worry?” Crowley teased. He didn’t expect the tension in Bobby’s face or his inability to answer. Something dark, withered, and small inside of him twisted painfully.
“Would it kill you to call?” Bobby snapped, hiding any sentiment with anger. It was a dead giveaway to how he was feeling.
“I was remiss in my duties. Next time I’ll write my status in blood on your walls,” Crowley teased.
“Better than not knowing if I need to storm the gates of Hell,” Bobby said, shaking his head, “Idjit.”
Crowley stalked over to his lover and stood behind his chair. He leaned on the back of it, pulling the recliner back for easy access and his hands trailed over Bobby’s chest. He nuzzled into his ear, his lip sucking at the lobe.
“Think you can get away with this by being cute,” Bobby complained, but his breathing was already picking up.
If anyone else in the universe called him cute they would be dust, but Bobby. He let the old man get away with it. It tickled him that Bobby knew how powerful he was and dared to insult him like that.
“No. I think I can get away with this by offering you a good fuck,” Crowley said his hands searching for and finding his nipples, “Unless you’ve satisfied your needs elsewhere.”
Bobby jerked away from him, sitting up and muttering, “You know I didn’t.”
“Teasing, love. Just teasing,” Crowley soothed. Honestly, this might be more work than he wanted to deal with. The thought of watching Bobby balls deep in someone from a third-person perspective made him carry on. “Can we go upstairs?”
“Is that all you think about?” Bobby grumbled, still irritated.
“When I’m around you? Yes,” Crowley purred still resting on the chair behind him, not touching him any longer, but whispering into his ear. He crossed in front of him and undid his tie. He pulled it free slowly and tossed it aside. He started to undo his shirt, finally meeting Bobby’s eyes. Gone were the days of reluctant attraction and sexual confusion. Bobby knew what he wanted and it showed in the fire in his eyes. Crowley bathed in that fire, stroking the flames as he opened his shirt and pulled it down his arms.
Whatever ill will Bobby had had towards him evaporated with the impromptu striptease. After five days Crowley had known that was all it would take. He barely got his hands on his belt before Bobby was up. His hands were in Crowley's hair while Bobby kissed him. Crowley lets himself be backed up against the wall, Bobby's bulk pinning him in place. Bobby has his pants undone and a hand on his cock in no time. Crowley pulled Bobby’s outer shirt off and then his t-shirt over his head. He loved how eager Bobby gets, but that was not for tonight.
“I’ve got something special for you tonight,” Crowley said, breaking away from the kiss enough to speak. Bobby’s eyes lit up with excitement instead of fear. How far had his absolutely straight boytoy come.
Crowley reached into his power and pulled both of them into the bedroom upstairs. Bobby was so used to it by now they were back to kissing a second later. Crowley kept his lips busy, undeterred while he worked a glamour over Bobby. He pulled back and smirked at his creation.
“Tada,” Crowley said, pushing the new blonde hair out of Bobby’s eye.
“What?” Bobby said his voice an octave higher and smoother than Crowley had ever heard it, “What did you do?”
Crowley conjured a mirror and hung it from the wall. He waved towards it, peeling himself off Bobby. He stood back, letting Bobby get up. The man did, looking down at his new six-pack with horror. His skin was a beautiful tan and he was easily over six feet tall.
Bobby stood in front of the mirror staring at the chocolate brown eyes and his short cropped blonde hair. Bobby’s features were crisp now, with high cheekbones and a sharp chin. He had just a shadow of stubble that looked purposeful and artful. His nose was just a little big, giving the face character. His teeth were perfectly straight and movie-star white. The man could have been on a soap opera for god’s sake. He made him pretty but kept his features far away from the Winchester’s so he wouldn’t freak out their father figure.
“What did you do?” Bobby demanded, obviously offended.
“Fixed you,” Crowley told him.
“You piece of shit. What makes you think this fixes me?” he said, the features contouring pleasantly.
“I don’t think it does. You do,” Crowley corrected.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Bobby said as he turned towards the mirror again. He touched the pretty features, his face still stern and serious. His scowl was exactly the same.
“All you do is complain. I’m old. I’m fat. I’m ugly. I’m tired of hearing it. So here. Fixed it. You’re welcome,” Crowley said sitting down on the bed.
“I do not,” Bobby snapped.
“Why do you want me, Crowley? You idjit. I ain’t no man’s fantasy material,” Crowley said rolling his eyes after his mockery, “Now, you’re fantasy material.”
“Is this what you wanted this whole time?” Bobby demanded.
Crowley sighed and leaned back on his hands before saying, “No. That’s not the face I jacked off to for months.”
“Then why…”
“Because you keep limiting yourself, limiting us with your self-hate. We can’t fuck the nice waitress because we’re old. We can’t seduce the cashier, because you're a bit tubby. We can’t go to an orgy because no one wants to see that. Well, now you’re someone everyone wants to see,” Crowley said motioning up and down Bobby’s body, “Let’s go.”
Bobby blanched at that and took a step back.
“This ain’t who I am,” Bobby said, eyes avoiding the mirror now.
“It’s who you want to be,” Crowley taunted, “Isn’t it?”
Bobby shook his head.
“How you think I should react to this hunk, is how I react to the real you. Do you think I waste my time with less than perfection?” Crowley asked, getting up. He slipped a leather strap into his hand and teleported himself behind Bobby. He tugged the man’s arms back and secured his hands with the restraint.
“Get off me,” Bobby demanded as he struggled.
“Use your colors,” Crowley reminded him. Bobby had encouraged them to explore some bondage play and they both had thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Bobby had insisted on safewords and the internet suggested the street light method. Green for go. Yellow for slow down. Red for stop. Crowley didn’t need it, but it comforted Bobby to know he was doing the right thing. Honestly, sometimes he wondered if Bobby forgot he’d been tortured for eons by very creative demons.
Luckily for Crowley they were both switches.
Bobby was stiff, his breathing uneven as he calmed down.
“Yellow,” Bobby said as the fight went out of him.
“That’s a good boy,” Crowley said, running his hand over the perfectly muscled back, “I want you to look in the mirror.” Crowley turned his lover so he was staring straight on with himself.
“I am,” Bobby said, his gruffness coming off almost silly in the youthful voice.
“What do you see?”
Bobby’s eyes wandered down the new body, his cheeks flushing a pretty pink. Crowley undid his belt and pulled his pants down as well as his underwear. Bobby didn’t fight him. Bobby gulped at the above-average and pretty cock started to swell behind his legs. His arms were huge, even pulled behind him and tied so nicely.
“Good-looking guy,” Bobby admitted.
“You can have this if you want it. I’ll give it to you. Might cost you your soul, but we both know I’ll get my hands on that one way or the other,” Crowley told him. He had no intention of letting something as petty as death keep them apart. He’d found a kindred spirit, finally someone he liked the company of, and he wasn't giving that up.
“Is that what you want?” Bobby asked, turning to look at him.
“No,” Crowley said straightforwardly, “I prefer the old you.”
“But only if I’m-” Bobby said and stopped himself to take a deep breath, “Into fucking others.”
“Which you are. You want so much, but you ignore it. You deny yourself everything,” Crowley said, running his hands up and down his strong arms, “But, Bobby, you can have it. With me at your side, you can have all your desires met.”
Bobby gave him a suspicious look.
“Willing and fully consenting adults. I plan to fuck you for an eternity and I’m looking forward to it, I am, but I’m not a one-and-done man. You know this. You knew it when you gave in to me. I think part of you wants that. You just don’t think you fit into it,” Crowley said and bit into Bobby’s neck making the man moan, “But I promise you do. If it’ll make it easier we can keep you like this-”
“No,” Bobby said suddenly his head hanging, “I don’t-”
“Good,” Crowley said, focusing on unweaving the magic, “You are being so good for me.”
Bobby opened his eyes and sighed in relief when he saw himself again. For someone who seemingly hated himself so much he was attached to this face. Crowley ran his hands over his now softer, hairier arms. He pressed his own nude body against Bobby’s letting the man feel his erection nudge at his ass.
“I don’t know if I can,” Bobby admitted.
“You don’t have to do anything. Let me,” Crowley said nuzzling into and biting Bobby’s neck again, leaving an angry bruise. Crowley pulled on his bound wrists to try and remind Bobby what sort of game they were playing. “Look in the mirror, sweetheart.”
Bobby’s eyes had drifted shut again, but he opened them. The mirror reflected exactly what Crowley saw when he looked at Bobby. It wasn’t different, not really, but the focus was different. Where Bobby saw wrinkles and greying hair, Crowley saw plump lips and a handsome beard. The eyes, Crowley, saw were alive with intelligence, playfulness, and violence. They were a storm cloud waiting to unleash. The mirror version smirked that sexy taunting one that had gotten Crowley’s blood going from day one. His body was the same, but the glamour made Bobby pay attention to strong shoulders and solid core instead of rolls and stretch marks.
“How?” Bobby asked as he looked at himself yet not himself.
“You’re not everyone’s cup of tea, I’ll admit, but you’re not nearly as bad as you fear,” Crowley told him, reaching around and taking Bobby’s cock in hand. Bobby moaned.
Bobby gasped and tore his eyes away shyly. He must have seen just how sexy Crowley found that face.
“I’m going to fuck you,” Crowley told him, pulling on the strap around his wrists, “And I want you to watch what I see.”
“Crowley,” Bobby said, shaking slightly even as he spread his legs a bit more.
“Will you be good for me?” Crowley asked, hoping he could sink Bobby further into sub-space. That would make this easier.
“I’ll try,” Bobby told him.
Crowley grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled his head back.
“Not good enough,” Crowley hissed.
“I’ll be good,” Bobby said as his neck was exposed to the air. He ground back towards Crowley. Oh. The bastard had done that on purpose so Crowley would manhandle him. How could Bobby not see how devastatingly sexy he was?
Crowley kept it human in bed, for the most part. He might help an aching back or give a bum knee some new life but he didn’t overdo it. Wouldn’t do for a hunter to know exactly how strong he could be. Maybe it was time he took the kid’s gloves off. Bobby hadn’t made a move against him and didn’t seem keen to. With ease, he picked up Bobby’s leg and had Bobby lubed up and ready without laying a hand on him. He slid inside his lover with ease, still marveling that he’d talked Bobby into letting him. Crowley still played catcher more often than not, but there was no doubt Bobby liked giving into his devious impulses.
“Eyes open, love,” Crowley reminded him. Bobby opened his eyes and they went straight down to where Crowley was fucking into him. His mouth dropped in awe and he let out a deep moan that meant he was on the edge.
“That ain't me-”
“Of course it is,” Crowley teased as he used a little power to keep Bobby steady on his single foot as Crowley started to truly plow into him.
Crowley could just barely see the mirror, but he didn’t need to. He’d seen Bobby get fucked, only by himself, but still, he knew how hot he was. He knew Bobby’s thick thighs were tense from the position, that his cock was dripping onto his stomach as it slapped back into him
with each thrust.
“Holy shit,” Bobby muttered as he watched.
Crowley undid the restraint, releasing Bobby's hands. Bobby’s fist closed in on his cock and Crowley could hear him pulling himself off. Crowley bit into his back, sucking a bloody patch into the thick muscle. Bobby melted into it, whimpering with want. This was his favorite version of Bobby, desperate and needy, completely open about what he needed.
The fluttering tightness around him let Crowley know Bobby was near orgasm. Crowley fucked him harder, licking and biting where he could. With a few deep, harsh grunts Bobby came and Crowley could watch a few bits of cum hit the mirror. He smirked and closed his eyes, leaning his forehead on a sweaty shoulder. He was selfish and forced Bobby to the edge of over-sensitivity as Crowley chased his own orgasm. It didn’t take long before he was spilling into his human and pulling out. He watched in the mirror as cum dribbled down his thigh. Gorgeous.
Crowley lowered Bobby’s leg and then released all the magic he’d been using including keeping Bobby steady. Bobby swaggered and landed a hand on the wall where a mirror had been a moment before. Crowley walked backward until he fell bonelessly onto the bed. Hm, that had worked out very nicely.
“You’re the devil, you know that,” Bobby muttered as he looked for something to clean up with.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Crowley purred as he curled into a pillow. He watched as Bobby cleaned up and came over to the bed. The old man wasn’t that mad then if he was willing to cuddle.
“And what was the point of all this bullshit?” Bobby demanded, sitting down instead of lying. Alright, maybe he was a little pissed.
“I want to give you everything you deserve,” Crowley said, running a finger along Bobby’s thigh, “Everything I know you’ll love.”
“That's it?” Bobby asked not taking the bait.
Crowley rolled his eyes. Couldn’t take the easy way out, could he? “I want to go back to being a crazy, sex fiend without pissing you off. Preferably have you join me in my depravity.”
“What’s the matter if it pisses me off? When’s that ever mattered?” Bobby asked, trying to meet Crowley’s eyes, but the demon kept his eyes on the pillow.
He hated this. He hated these kinds of talks. He could agree with squirrel on this much, no chick-flick moments, please.
“I would rather,” Crowley started then snapped, talking far too fast, “And I swear to Hell if you repeat this, I will kill you. I would rather be a goodie, goodie, boring, monogamous, kept demon with you than go back to being a slutty, filthy whore without you.”
Bobby’s mouth was hanging open and his eyebrows were drawn together. The quiet stretched and became tight like a corset cutting off his breath. Bobby finally reached out a hand, caressing Crowley’s hair, and then kissed his forehead almost platonically. Crowley’s eyes snapped up, searching and worried. That felt like a goodbye. Had he stepped too far? Fuck.
“Love you too, you idjit,” Bobby said, shaking his head, a fond smile on his lips.
“Didn’t say that,” Crowley said, sitting up and pulling away. How could he?
“Didn’t have to,” Bobby said, crawling into bed beside him.
Crowley should protest. He wanted to, but he was comfortable and well fucked out. Maybe it was best that Bobby thought that he ‘loved’ him. Might keep the human more loyal. Plus the hunter had shown his hand and admitted he loved Crowley. Crowley could use that against him one day if needed.
“And yes,” Bobby said as he got comfortable on his side of the bed.
“Yes?”
“We’ll try out this idea of yours.”
Crowley’s head slowly turns towards him, his eyebrows in his hairline. That was not what he was expecting.
“And next time,” Bobby started, “Just talk with me. I know I ain’t always the best about listening, but I’ll try to be better.”
“Big words coming from Robert Singer,” the demon said, rolling over and putting his head on his human’s chest. He could hear his heart drumming out the days of Bobby’s life. He wasn’t sure if things would be easier or harder once he made Bobby a demon, but he was excited to find out.