Things to Do With a Demon's Mouth (Supernatural)
Title: Things to Do With a Demon’s Mouth
Fandom: Supernatural
Prompt: Secret
Medium: Fanfiction
Size/length: 612
Summary: Crowley keeps Bobby quiet because the Winchesters are just down the hall.
Rating: Explicit, NC-17
Pairing: Bobby/Crowley
Content Notes: Explicit sex.
AO3
“Shh.” Crowley tightened his hand over Bobby’s mouth a second after he appeared in their bedroom. “Got to stay quiet.”
Bobby scowled and licked Crowley’s hand in retaliation. “Now’s not exactly a good time. Thought I told you to look ahead, idjit.”
“I did.” Crowley replied, his demon strength coming into play as he lifted Bobby back onto his bed and pinned him to the mattress. “Why, don’t want your precious boys to know about me?”
Bobby growled something into Crowley’s hand, trying to get it as nasty as possible. For a demon that knew his way around a torture chamber, Crowley could be surprisingly sensitive about smells and dirty things.
“Will you be quiet?” Crowley asked, waiting for Bobby to nod before lifting his hand off and wiping it off on Bobby’s bedsheets.
“The Winchesters are down the hall!” Bobby hissed, keeping his voice low. “You can’t be here right now. Out.” He pointed at the door, but his lower anatomy was responding and ruining his credibility.
“You really want me to leave?” Crowley whispered back. He shifted around and put his knee between Bobby’s legs before leaning forward and applying just the slightest amount of pressure on his crotch.
Bobby took a deep breath as he involuntarily thrust his hips up, grinding his cock through his pyjama pants and against Crowley’s knee. “Damn it!”
Crowley smiled and shifted off, smirking as Bobby tried to anchor him in place with his legs. “Uh, uh, uh, not yet.” He snapped his fingers and his clothing reappeared neatly folded on the armchair across the room.
“Finally.” Bobby reached down to take off his own pants, but he settled for pushing them halfway down his thighs and grabbed his cock around the base, travelling up it with a long, slow stroke.
“Don’t start without me.” Crowley rejoined him on the bed and his hand joined Bobby’s, fingers circling his cock just below Bobby’s grip.
They stayed like that for a long time. Bobby let his hand drift down and rest on his thigh. It had been a long day of battlefield surgery, hurried research and dealing with whiny kids. He needed this.
Crowley’s hand changed tactics. He swiped his thumb over the head of Bobby’s cock and then ran down the underside, pressing the edges of his nails into the delicate flesh. Bobby felt his heart start racing and as Crowley moved lower, cupping his ball and stroking beneath them, he couldn’t help the moan that escaped from his mouth.
“Bobby!” Crowley sat up and clamped hand over his mouth. “That was too loud.” He said, his voice barely audible.
They waited in silence. It was torture, Bobby’s cock throbbed and protested as it was ignored, but even the thought of Sam or Dean wandering in wasn’t enough to make his boner quit. He rutted against the air, the bed creaking as his hips quivered.
“Think it’s safe.” Bobby’d had enough. “C’mon.”
“Patience is a virtue.” Crowley whispered, but he took his hand off of Bobby’s mouth and rubbed the outside of his thigh, so close and yet so far from where Bobby wanted him to touch.
“You’re a demon.” Bobby whispered back. He planned on saying something else, but Crowley rearranged himself and a second later his smart mouth was encasing Bobby in warm, wet heat and all of the words left his head.
He gasped and thrust up, dropping back down to the bed with a thump that squeaked and rocked the frame.
Crowley looked up at him. “Shh, I don’t want to explain myself to the Hardy boys when there are so many better things I could be doing with my tongue.”