Blind Trust 3/3

[rayhne]

Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Crowley/Bobby, Dean/Lisa
Rating: R for Graphic Sex, Rape, Language, Torture
Summary: Bobby finds an injured Crowley on his doorstep.

While wandering about searching for things about Crowley I found this. I came in at the middle of the thread and was surprised to realize it was about this fic. A few notes concerning it.

1) Concerning the 'he still has his cap on' remark, I'm not Laurel Hamilton. I don't describe every stitch of clothing and how they come off or go on. When I say 'they undress', I mean they undress. Boots, clothing, cap, no reason to describe it all. On the other hand if that's what floats your boat, Bobby can keep his cap on. I prefer it off but to each their own.

2) I use ooOoo as a divider and have for years because it works easiest on fanfiction.net. Is there an alternate meaning to this divider I don't know of? Do I want to know of it?

3) None of my Crowley stories have anything to do with Good Omens.

4) I hope the person who thought the slash was pretty good still thinks so after this part.

5) And concerning a new way to make a powerful non-human character weak and vulnerable enough to get taken care of besides gangraping them ... Well, not going there here, unless someone posts a comment concerning it. Then I will respond.

oooOooo

Lisa carried the tray into the kitchen and set it on counter. She looked around, surprised at how clean everything was. The last time she'd been out here, the house could have best be described as lived-in. The kind of place where a bachelor lived.

Wondering where Crowley went, she started to look around then hesitated. Crowley was blind and apt to startle easily. After a moment's thought, she finally called out his name.

He didn't answer right away and she suspected he was surprised to hear her calling him.

"In here. The utility room."

Lisa followed the voice, pausing in the doorway at the sight of Crowley pouring detergent into the washer. He closed the top and she saw that everything had been painstakingly labeled in Braille. Running his fingers lightly over the labels, he made some adjustments and started the machine.

"I'm impressed." Lisa said and she was. It was obvious care was given to make the house suitable for someone who couldn't see. Everything had a place and that place was neatly labeled.

"Yes, well. Couldn't just sit around all day, moping. No matter what Winchester may think." Crowley's voice was cool.

Lisa's lips thinned. She realized the demon had misunderstood what she was saying but even so. She watched as he put everything away.

"Can I help you with something?" he asked, turning those unnerving eyes toward her.

"Oh. I thought I could take some more broth up to Bobby."

"Well. That would be a help. I'd prefer to stay away from Winchester and that demon-killing knife of his."

Lisa stiffened. "How?"

"Oh please. I'm not stupid. If he's coming to a house where a demon is he's going to bring the knife. Could you let him know if he's planning on killing me to kindly not do so in Bobby's bedroom? Might upset him a bit."'

Crowley walked toward her and she hastily stepped back, flushing when she realizing he was just walking from the room.

"Mind taking the water up as well?"

"Yeah, sure." She followed him into the kitchen. "Let me rinse out the mug." She hurried over to pick up the mug and take it to the sink but the sound of an unfamiliar man's voice made her gasp and jump. She whirled then collapsed in a fit of giggles. "A talking measuring cup?"

Crowley threw her a wry grin. "It's amazing the things they've come up with. Did you know there's a talking microwave?"

Lisa glanced toward the microwave.

"We don't have one yet. I think Bobby's looking at one. Do you want to take the broth up now or wait? So they can talk."

Lisa grimaced. "Wait, I think."

"Well there's orange juice and lemonade in the refrigerator. Help yourself." Crowley opened a cupboard and pulled out storage containers. He began to carefully fill them, pouring into the measuring cup first and then into the containers.

After a moment's dithering, Lisa poured a glass of lemonade. She hesitated. "Would you like a glass of lemonade?"

Crowley looked surprised. "Yes please," he finally said. Wiping his hands on a towel, he put the containers away then made his way to the table.

"The glass is in front of you." Lisa set it on the table and moved to sit across from him. Absently she sipped her drink as she studied him. "What happened to you? To your eyes?"

"Winchester didn't tell you?"

An annoyed look crossed her face. "He has a first name."

Crowley's lips quirked into a smile. "I doubt he'd want me using it."

Lisa's annoyance fled and she sighed. "That's true."

Crowley surprised her by laughing, laughter that quickly fled as he remembered her question. "Holy water. My captors poured it into my eyes pretty much every day or whenever they felt like it. The damage remains." His voice was wooden.

Lisa studied those pale eyes. Unlike Dean, she believed he really was blind. No one could possibly pretend to be blind for so long. "Will they heal?"

"No idea. Perhaps. But how long it will take? That I can't even guess at." He took a cautious sip of lemonade and Lisa wondered if he thought she might have put something in it. She had to give him credit for actually drinking it.

She frowned and glanced up toward the bedroom, wondering how much time she should give them. Dean thought that enough talking with Bobby would bring the older man around but Lisa thought it would just make him more stubborn. Thanks to her exposure to Dean she knew about demons. Well, she knew what Dean knew about demons, enough to be wary of even this harmless-looking man with his unseeing eyes and smarmy manner. She thought over what Dean had told her.

"You're the King of the Crossroads Demons," She started suddenly.

"Was the King of the Crossroads." Crowley corrected. "I lost all that helping your husband and his brother shove Lucifer back into his box. Managed to become Hell's most wanted in the process. Or didn't he mention that?"

Lisa bit her lip. Dean had been selective in what he'd said about the demon. At points he'd grudgingly admit the demon had helped out but always made it clear how little that help was appreciated, despite admitting they wouldn't have been able to accomplish some things without it.

"I suppose it would take a lot to reach that rank," Lisa said slowly, watching the demon.

Crowley chuckled. "You mean a lot of evil? Not necessarily." He turned the empty glass in his hands before pushing it toward her. "Would you mind?" As Lisa rose he continued talking. "You are wondering what it would take to reach the rank I did. Well, I'll tell you. It takes the overwhelming urge to survive without being the abused plaything of creatures you cannot even begin to imagine." He paused, reaching up to touch a puckered scar. "Or maybe you can. There are times when humans are very capable of outstripping even a demon's imagination." Letting his hand drop, he continued. "In Hell there's only two options. Abuse or be abused. Even the strongest person will eventually break and become an abuser. Even Dean eventually ..."

"What?" Lisa set the pitcher down on the table hard enough to make lemonade slosh out of it.

Crowley frowned. "I take it he didn't tell you about his time in Hell. Well, toward the end of it he was torturing souls with the best of them."

"I don't believe you!" Lisa took a step back, glaring at the demon, reflecting that Dean was right. They are all liars.

Crowley shrugged, obviously not caring whether she believed him or not. "Why would I lie when the truth is so much better? Ask him yourself, you don't believe me." He gestured upstairs.

"I will!" She whirled and ran for the stairs.

She burst into the bedroom to see the two men glaring at each other. Bobby had a sheen of sweat on his forehead but that didn't stop him from calling the younger man several choice names before glaring at her.

"What?"

"Something Crowley said ..." Her voice trailed off as she realized how her question might sound.

"Don't listen to ..." Dean started but Bobby cut him off.

"What'd he say?"

"He said," she glanced at Dean. "That you'd been to Hell."

Dean went totally still and her heart sank.

"What about it?" Bobby growled. "Did you think he was lying? Surprise. He ain't."

Dean glared at the older man. "That's not important," he muttered.

"So he wasn't lying," Lisa said slowly. "And I need to go apologize to him. Excuse me please."

"No need." Crowley's voice came from behind her and she jumped with an undignified 'eeep!'. Turning she glared at him, aware of Bobby's snickers. Crowley smirked in her direction.

"You did that on purpose!"

"Maybe. You mind?" He held out the full tray. "I have to get the laundry into the dryer."

"Sure." She hastily took the tray and Crowley stepped back and went out the door. "Okay, don't need to apologize." She looked at Dean. "And you have some explaining to do." She walked around the bed to set the pitcher on the nightstand and hand Bobby the mug of broth. "Is there anything you guys need from the store?"

"Lisa!"

"No thanks," Bobby grunted, looking vaguely embarrassed. "Did the monthly shopping a few days before I got hurt.'

Lisa looked at him for a long moment before grinning wickedly. "What do they think of you two in town?"

Bobby scowled, a slight flush rising in his cheeks and it was all she could do not to collapse into giggles.

"They know!"

"They suspect," Bobby growled, all gruff anger and embarrassment, shooting the gawking Dean a sharp look before wiggling down in the bed, muttering. "They think we're cute."

That did it. Lisa collapsed into laughter, ignoring the two men glaring at her, though for different reasons.

"If you go into town, Crowley's known as Jaime Yates. Officially he's my distant cousin come over from England after being blinded in an accident," Bobby said suddenly.

"Unofficially?" Lisa looked at him teasingly, grinning as his flush deepened.

"He's my distant cousin come over from England who's ended up in my bed," Bobby admitted.

Dean made a sound between a gag and a growl and stomped from the room, leaving the other two looking after him.

"You do know," Lisa said suddenly. "That the fact Crowley's a demon is only an excuse. If he wasn't ..."

"Yeah, yeah. If he was just Jaime Yates Dean would still have the problem. A bigger one really 'cause then he'd have to admit that I'm gay. Or rather bi." Bobby frowned. "Funny how I can talk to him about sleeping with a demon but every time I bring up the male part of it he doesn't want to listen." He turned to look at her thoughtfully. "Look, you mind doing me a favor?"

oooOooo

Dean stomped down the stairs, tempted to walk out the door and get Ruby's blade. Lisa had insisted he leave it in the car and he had reluctantly agreed. If he'd just killed Crowley when they got here ...

Bobby would have probably shot him. He cursed whatever it was the demon had done to him and glared around, wondering where the little bastard was. After a moment he blinked and looked again.

Because the house was clean.

Remarkably so, considering that a perpetual slob and a blind demon lived here. If he really was blind, Dean corrected himself and looked again. Now he could see missed spots while dusting and some things just not looking right, the kind of things someone who was blind would miss while cleaning. The floor, however, was spotless, everything carefully put away. He walked over to the kitchen and peered in suspiciously. Crowley was nowhere in sight. Just as he was beginning to panic the demon appeared, walking in so confidently that Dean was sure he could see but then Crowley reached the table. He cursed as his leg smacked into a chair pulled out from the table. Reaching out to steady himself with a hand on the table, he cursed again as he put his hand in sticky wetness.

"Damn." Crowley walked over to the counter, pulling open a drawer and taking out some towels. He made his way back, whistling tunelessly as he mopped up the spilled lemonade. His hand hit the pitcher and he sighed as it sloshed. Carefully he checked for more spills before getting a wet washcloth and wiping both pitcher and table free of stickiness. Picking up the pitcher, he put it away and disappeared with the dirty towels.

Dean stared after him before turning and walking to Bobby's library. It, too, was startling clean. There were no stacks of books on the floor, though there were plenty on a table against the wall. He walked over to turn on the computer. Nothing happened and he frowned, remembering that Crowley had said something about Bobby disabling it. He looked around, finally realizing that the power cord was gone. Dean snorted, reflecting that that was a simple low-tech way of keeping Crowley from using it. The same went for the CB.

Straightening, he looked over the setup. There were two keyboards, a regular one and a braille one and two printers as well. Sheets of paper stacked neatly in the corner had raised bumps on them and he realized one of the printers printed out in braille. There were a couple pieces of equipment around he didn't recognize and he guessed that they had something to do with Crowley. He wondered briefly how Bobby could afford all of this new equipment.

He turned to the stacks of books, his frown deepening when he realized that one stack had to do with braille and how to live with the blind. Another stack was of fiction books and not the kind he'd ever seen Bobby read. He was reaching for the top book in a third stack when he heard voices in the other room. He hurried out in time to see Lisa handing Crowley a phone.

Crowley smiled as he ran his hands over the phone. After a moment of satisfying himself that it was his phone and it was working properly, he slipped it into his pocket. "The computer?"

Lisa raised a handful of cords and shook them. "We'll make sure everything's set up before we leave." She hesitated before suggesting gently. "You should go up and rest."

Crowley blinked, hesitating. "I think ... I think I will. Just close up please." He bit his lip. "And, uhmmmm, thank you." He walked for the stairs and Dean moved hastily to one side. At the sound, Crowley paused, frowning then continued to the stairs and walked up them.

Lisa watched him go up before waving the cords at Dean. "Let's get everything working again and head out."

"Yeah." Dean took the cords. "Sure."

oooOooo

Crowley paused in the doorway, head tilted as he listened to his lover breathe.

"Just gonna stand there, looking pretty?" Bobby growled and Crowley smiled.

"Is that how I'm looking?"

"Actually you look exhausted. Get your butt over here."

Crowley obeyed, walking over to sit on the side of the bed to take off his shoes before stretching out next to Bobby. "Damn," he muttered. "I forgot to ask Mrs. Winchester where that stuff was hidden." Absently he took the phone from his pocket and put it on the nightstand behind him.

"She wouldn't have told you. Made sure of that." Bobby reached out to touch the demon's head, coaxing him close. With a sigh Crowley rolled over, resting his head on the other man's shoulder. Bobby watched as Crowley's eyes slowly closed and he slipped into sleep, perhaps his first real sleep in days.

Bobby looked down at the demon, his expression soft as he stroked the short dark hair. He knew Dean still distrusted Crowley and he could understand why but Dean hadn't seen Crowley over the past few days. His anger and naked fear when he realized what Bobby had done and why, cutting him off from any hope of getting help for the wounded hunter, his relief when Bobby's fever had finally broken. All of which he tried to hide from Bobby but even so he could see it and feel it too, in the tight possessive grip and gentle touches.

Shifting, he rested his cheek on the demon's head, slipping into sleep.

oooOooo

"You'd be surprised what you can do without using salt." Crowley opened a cupboard and pulled out a container. "Here."

Curious, Lisa examined the jar. "The label's in Braille," she pointed out.

"Of course." Crowley smirked then rattled off the ingredients. "You need to get creative when you can't use salt."

"De ... I didn't think demons needed to eat."

"Normally we don't but whatever was done to me has altered me, I guess. I need to eat and sleep and ... other things."

Lisa paused with a frown then decided not to ask. "So no salt in the house?"

"Sure there is. Bobby has it stored away where I can't accidentally use it. It still affects me as it once did." He held out a hand and she saw a scar along the back of it that looked oddly different from the others. "A little test." He let his hand drop and turned back to the stew. "I've no powers. I can't heal myself but I'm still vulnerable to the things that will hurt a demon."

Lisa brought over the vegetables she had cut up and waited for Crowley to be ready for them. "So you haven't found out why?"

"Bobby's been searching but no. He hasn't found a thing." He gestured for her to pour the vegetables in. "Someone found something new somewhere. Something capable of binding a demon and making him powerless."  There was surprisingly little self-pity in the demon's voice as he stirred the stew.

Lisa reached for an apple from a bowl on the counter and studied the demon as she took a bite. "You're handling this surprisingly well," she said at last. "Being blind and powerless."

Crowley snorted. "Don't have much choice, do I? Honestly though, it could be so much worse. If anyone else had found me ...." His voice trailed off.

Lisa remembered some of what Bobby had told them about the demon's injuries and shuddered. She knew he'd glossed over the details but what little he had said had been horrific enough. She resisted the impulse to comfort him, knowing he didn't care to be touched except, of course, by Bobby. "Care for a refill?" She reached out to tap his empty wine glass.

"Sure."

Lisa picked up the wine bottle and poured a measure into Crowley's glass and then her own. She had learned a lot of the demon's quirks over the past few weeks, one of which is that any glass he was drinking from was to be kept in the same spot and if you pick up anything in the kitchen, actually in the entire house, you put it down in the exact same spot. Crowley, she found, had an exceptional memory and he knew where everything was and if something wasn't where it was supposed to be he let everyone know about it. Not that she could blame him, really.

"You want to peel the apples? Thought I'd make a pie."

"Hmmm. That will make Dean happy." Lisa grabbed the bowl of apples and a knife, heading for the table. "I'm moving the trash can over to the table."

"I was thinking more of Bobby," Crowley said dryly. "He loves apple pie so I thought I'd give it a try. Remind me, though, to put the biscuits in."

"Right." Lisa grabbed an apple and started to peel.

oooOooo

"You could bring Ben out, y'know. He'd be perfectly safe." Bobby half-growled, not looking up from under the hood of the car they were working on.

Dean grimaced. "Yeah, maybe," he said grudgingly. "Maybe later."

Bobby grunted, apparently satisfied.

Dean dropped by more often with the obvious intent of catching Crowley out but soon even he had to reluctantly agree that the demon really was blind. Lisa came with him, driven first by curiosity and then by a growing friendship with the demon.

"Crowley's making stew. Think you'll stay for supper?"

Dean bit his lip, hesitant. Visiting was one thing but actually eating food prepared by a demon?

"He said something about making an apple pie," Bobby continued, shooting the younger man a sly look.

Dean scowled. "That's cheating," he muttered, only half in jest.

Bobby snickered. "Not sure how good it'll be, since he hasn't made a pie since he was blinded. But everything else he's made has been good."

Dean made a noncommittal sound and they worked in silence for a long moment.

"Hey, Bobby," Dean said at last, not looking at the other man. "How, ahhhh, real is this?" He made a vague gesture toward the house.

Bobby looked at him, narrow-eyed but he saw that Dean was being earnest. "Define real," he growled then shook his head with a sigh. "He didn't trick me into anything, if that's what you mean.  Him and me ..." He hesitated.

"Demons don't feel, Bobby. Whatever's between the two of you ..."

"You ain't seen him, boy." This time the growl was real. "Not when he's hurting. Not when he's in a nightmare." Pushing himself away from the car he turned and leaned back against it, crossing his arms. "Sometimes he'll hear something or smell something and it sets him off. Sends him back to that room and those people and what they did to him. He practically goes catatonic. I'll find him curled up in some corner, afraid to move or talk. First few times it took me days to get him calmed down and talking again. Now I can do it in a few hours but those few hours," he shook his head. "Not something I enjoy." He looked over at Dean. "He ain't just a demon any more. He'll say different but ... I don't know. He ain't like any demon I'd ever seen or heard of."

"We thought the same about Ruby," Dean pointed out.

"Ruby wasn't blind," Bobby said bluntly. "Or powerless. And," he paused. "And I got some suspicions I don't wanna discuss right now."

Dean studied him then glanced at the house thoughtfully.

"There's some other things I ain't gonna talk about so don't ask."

Dean flushed and ducked his head back under the hood, leaving Bobby smirking at the back of his head.

oooOooo

Dean looked at the bowl of thick stew to cast a longing look at the pie cooling on the counter. While they had been to the salvage yard several times they hadn't stayed to eat. The bribe of pie, even pie made by a demon, was something he couldn't resist. The stew, on the other hand ...

"This is excellent," Lisa said. "Where did you learn how to cook anyway?"

Crowley shrugged. "Something to do. I rather enjoy it." He hesitated. "I've found it's even better when I am cooking for others." There was a trace of wonder in his voice, as if he couldn't believe it.

"Never cook for the folks back in Hell?" Dean asked then winced at the glare Bobby gave him. He couldn't see Lisa but he suspected she was glaring at him as well.

Crowley's face shut down. "No," he said woodenly. "There was no one there I would have wished to cook for."

Dean swallowed another snide remark and stared into the bowl. He knew he wasn't handling this well but there was so much wrong with all that was happening. A demon living with a hunter ... he looked up again, watching as the two interacted. Bobby had set everything precisely on the table and when Dean had taken a biscuit and set the basket back in a slightly different place, the older man had promptly moved it to its original location. Crowley reached for things unerringly, obviously trusting Bobby to have put them in their customary location. Dean looked from one to the other, absently taking apart a biscuit.

"Bobby," he said suddenly then almost shut up when the older man stiffened. Dean glanced at Crowley, still blank-faced. "Are you happy?" he blurted out before he lost his nerve.

Bobby looked surprised at the question then something like grudging respect entered his eyes. He turned his head to look at Crowley, who had lowered his spoon and was listening, head tipped toward him.

"Yeah," he said finally, watching as tension drained from the demon's body. "Yeah, I am." He shot Dean a sharp look. "As hard as that may be to believe."

Dean studied him for a long moment before looking at Crowley. "And you, Crowley?"

Crowley looked startled at the question and for a moment Dean didn't think he'd answer. The demon opened his mouth then paused. His hand groped over to touch Bobby, settling on his wrist gently. He tipped his head, blind eyes turned toward the younger hunter. "Yes. Yes, I am happy." The wonder was back in his voice, as if he couldn't believe he was happy. Or maybe he couldn't believe he was admitting it.

Dean flicked a look at Bobby before taking a deep breath but before he could speak, Crowley continued.

"I know what you are thinking. You've been to Hell. You know how it works. It's all kill or be killed, no quarter given. There is no kindness." He paused with a frown. "I don't believe I've ever been shown kindness. Not without an ulterior motive."

Dean took another deep breath. "Not even when you were still human?"

Crowley froze and Bobby hissed through his teeth, glaring at Dean. After a moment, Crowley relaxed and squeezed the hunter's wrist.

"It's all right, Bobby." He tipped his head in Dean's direction. "It was so long ago I barely remember. Except, sometimes, in dreams. Or nightmares." He shook his head. "I can't talk of it but yes. I knew kindness then. I knew many things then. But once in Hell ... you knew Hell, Winchester. It was use or be used. After my time in the torture chamber - long, longer then even you could ever imagine - I was determined never to used again." His face hardened. "I became what I needed to be in order to keep that from ever happening again. And make no mistake about it. I was good at it. And, yes, I was proud of my work and yes, I came to enjoy it. It grew to be all I knew."

Dean realized that the demon was talking in the past tense and he frowned. "But you're still a demon," he said bluntly. "If you get your powers back, what happens then?"

Crowley was obviously expecting the question. "I don't know," he said honestly. "I really don't. Of course, we don't even know if I'll ever get my powers back. Or my sight."

"One day at a time," Bobby grunted.

"But you could go back to what you were," Dean persisted. "And then what?' He glanced at Bobby. "Who gets hurt then?"

"I don't know!" Crowley snapped, obviously frustrated. "I can't know! Don't you understand? Nothing like this has ever happened before!" He took a deep shaky breath. "There are no disabled demons. If they can't heal themselves or convince someone else to do it ... yeah like that would happen ... they die. Or become toys for stronger demons, though that's rare. A blind demon would be useless, except perhaps for amusement. Of course Lucifer's more devoted followers would love to get their hands on me now." He fell silent at the thought.

Dean did as well. He looked down at the bowl, stirring the contents. Reaching for another biscuit, he tore it in half, dunking half into the stew. "Shouldn't other demons be able to find you?"

Crowley grimaced. "Whatever was done to me seems to block others from sensing me. Only good thing coming from that. Plus the protections Bobby has set up around the place. As long as no one tells anyone where I am we're safe."

Dean shot a look at him. "Hope you're not suggesting ..."

"He is," Bobby said through a mouthful of biscuit. "But then he's a paranoid little bastard."

"With reason," Crowley pointed out. "And what do you mean little?"

Dean snickered at that and Crowley turned toward him.

"You don't count, you freakishly tall bastard."

Dean finally shoved the stew-laden biscuit in his mouth. "Midget," he muttered around the food.

Crowley blinked, obviously at a loss at how to respond to that and Bobby laughed.

"Don't worry. I ain't gonna do a thing that'll endanger Bobby. Or make him unhappy," Dean muttered the last bit, eyes glued on his bowl. After a moment he began to eat.

"Good. 'Cause I'd have to shoot you."

"Yeah, I figured."

Crowley turned his head from one man to the other, obviously uncertain. Lisa sighed and absently patted his hand, pleased that he didn't flinched at her touch, only turned toward her inquiringly.

"I think everything's fine," she said soothingly.

Crowley nodded uncertainly and Bobby chortled at him.

"Want some more stew?" The hunter asked.

Crowley ran the half-a-biscuit he still held around the bowl, soaking up the remains of the stew then held the empty bowl out. "Yes please."

Bobby rose, his bowl in one hand, Crowley's in the other and walked over to fill them.

"There's more biscuits warming in the oven," Crowley said and Bobby grunted, walking over to pull them out.

Dean began to laugh.

Bobby turned to scowl at him. "What's wrong with you?"

"You two sound like an old married couple," he snickered.

Bobby's scowl deepened then he laughed at the look on Crowley's face.

oooOooo

Meal over and pie eaten, Bobby walked the couple out to their car, chatting for a few minutes before heading back into the house. He was pleased with today's visit. Dean seemed to finally be accepting Crowley and Bobby's friendship, if not relationship. Granted some of his taunts were still barbed but there had been some honest teasing mixed in. So just maybe ...

He paused in the doorway into the kitchen, leaning against the doorjamb. The demon was putting away the food and cleaning up after the meal and Bobby just watched him, wondering at the direction his life had taken since Crowley had first appeared on his porch. He had gone from reluctant caretaker to tentative lover to partner and somewhere down that road he had fallen in love.

It had taken him some time to admit it to himself. It wasn't the passionate, love-at-first-sight love he'd held and still held for Karen. He would always love her but he was accepting the fact that he could love another. Even if it was a man. Even if it was a demon. What he felt for Crowley wasn't the bright flame he shared with his wife. This was comfortable like a familiar quilt, something that warmed him with its presence.

He watched as Crowley stretched up to return containers to the cupboard, his shirt riding up enough for the hunter to see a sliver of skin between shirt and waistband. His breath caught and he licked his lips. Damn! He never thought the sight of a man could arouse him so. No, not just any man. Just Crowley.

Pushing himself from the doorjamb, he walked over to stand behind Crowley. At the sound of his footsteps, the demon tilted his head, waiting. Reaching out Bobby rested his hands on his shoulders, gently massaging the muscles there. Crowley sighed, rolling his neck.

"Everything put away?" Bobby murmured, leaning in to press his lips against the back of Crowley's neck.

Crowley's breath caught. "Yes."

"Good. Come on." The hunter entwined his fingers with Crowley's and tugged him from the room and up to the bedroom.

Crowley was humming happily as they undressed each other, hands caressing newly bared skin. Bobby drew him to the bed and they lay together, kissing and stroking each other. Crowley's hand closed around his lover's cock, stroking him as Bobby's hand slipped between the demon's legs to cup his balls, rolling them in his hand.

Crowley groaned and shifted, parting his legs to give Bobby better access to the sensitive skin between balls and anus. Bobby chuckled and sucked briefly on the demon's lower lip.

"Crowley," he murmured. "There's something I want."

Crowley stiffened slightly and Bobby guessed at what he was thinking. He gave the other a gentle squeeze.

"I want you to fuck me," he said bluntly.

"Wha - what?"

"You heard me."

Crowley's expression went from surprised to thoughtful. "You don't have to, Bobby." Crowley stroked his lover's hip. Despite his words, he felt his cock twitch in anticipation.

"I know I don't have to, you dumb idjit!" Bobby growled. "I wanna." He frowned. "Wouldn't ask you to do anything I haven't done."

Crowley tipped his head thoughtfully. "And you are curious." he guessed.

Bobby squirmed a bit. "Maybe." he muttered. "Jes a little." He scowled at Crowley's smirk.

Crowley leaned in to kiss Bobby's forehead. "If you want to stop just say so."

"Don't worry, I will. Here." He pressed the tube of lubricant into the demon's hand.

Bobby watched as Crowley slicked up his fingers. He wasn't sure what to expect and was a little afraid of it but he knew sooner or later, Crowley was going to ask him to fuck him and he needed to know what that felt like before subjecting him to it. And, well, he was curious.

He felt Crowley's fingers drift down between his legs, caressing his balls before finding the puckered opening into his body. He swallowed hard as a finger rubbed lube onto his opening and then slipped inside just a bit.

"So tense." Crowley whispered. "I won't hurt you, Bobby."

"I know." He did know that and that knowledge helped him relax.

"Here." Crowley groped for a pillow. "Slip this under your hips. Make it easier."

Bobby obeyed and Crowley resumed loosening the tight opening.

Crowley worked a finger into the hunter, biting his lip at the tightness. He could feel his cock leaking, preparing to, in essence, deflower the man. A part of him just wanted to take him, tear him open, possess him and once he would have. It was almost alarming how easy it was to wrestle down those demonic urges.

He drew out his finger, pleased to hear a disappointed groan come from Bobby. Adding more lube, he slipped in two fingers this time and went deeper until he found what he was looking for. A single caress of that bundle of nerves brought a startled cry from the hunter as he tightened around Crowley's fingers.

"Crowley!"

"That's it, luv. Almost ready." he murmured, scissoring his fingers and working them deeper. Bobby grunted, moving against the probing fingers and Crowley smiled. Cautiously he worked in a third finger.

Bobby let out a low cry, his breath coming in gasps. "Crowley. Damn it!"

Crowley smiled, moving down to catch Bobby's mouth with his own, plundering it ruthlessly. As he pulled back, his lips bruised and swollen, Bobby reached up to hook a hand behind his head and pulled him back down to return the favor. It took all his willpower to pull away.

Damn! That man can kiss!

Crowley pulled his fingers free and slicked up his cock, making sure he was well-covered before guiding it  to Bobby's opening. He hesitated. "Are you sure?"

Bobby growled. "Jes shut up and fuck me already!"

Crowley chuckled and pressed into him. He heard Bobby grunt as he was breached then Crowley thrust forward, slipping into him easily enough once the head was firmly lodged.

Bobby grunted again, his eyes widening as he realized Crowley was firmly and fully into him. His breath came raggedly as he tried to work out how he felt about this. It hurt, yes, but it also felt good, in a weird I-can't-believe-this way.

He shifted his legs, drawing his knees up and gasped as the head of Crowley's cock rubbed against that sweet spot inside him. He groaned, shifting, wanting that feeling again.

"Crowley." he rasped. "Damn it, Crowley! Fuck me!"

Chuckling, Crowley raised his head from where he'd been resting it on Bobby's shoulder as he fought to maintain control long enough to give his lover the experience of his lifetime.

"Your wish," he purred. Bracing himself with a hand on either side of Bobby, he began to move. Long hard strokes that widened Bobby's eyes and made him gasp for breath. The sounds he made drove Crowley to new heights and he shifted closer, bracing himself. His strokes became shorter and harder, almost rocking in place. Bobby was making sounds of pleasure, meeting his every thrust.

"Bobby," he whispered thickly. "Ahhh, Bobby. So hot, so tight ..." The words, the thoughts, the reality turned him incoherent with only every third word understandable. Bobby laughed then moaned as Crowley shifted his angle, the head of his cock stroking that bundle of nerves as he moved.

Bobby's hands gripped the demon's shoulders as he moved to meet each thrust. He couldn't believe he was actually enjoying this. He'd thought he'd just ... well, he didn't know what he thought. He stopped trying to think and just enjoyed, slipping one hand from Crowley's shoulders to stroke himself in time to the demon's thrusts.

Crowley moved even closer, grunting with each stroke until his hips stuttered in place and he cried out with his release. His hands gripped the sheets as he pressed in, holding himself deeply inside Bobby, gasping as he came harder then he ever remembered coming before. His eyes were screwed shut so tightly that he could see explosions of light behind his lids, the first he'd seen in anything save dreams since he was blinded.

Bobby watched him, watched the intense pleasure on his face and was content, knowing he'd done right by the demon despite any misgivings he may have had then he gasped in surprise as his own orgasm overtook him. He groaned, half-aware of Crowley's hand joining his to pump him dry. Emptied he collapsed on the bed, too drained to even think of cleaning up and too content to care. He looked up at Crowley, who looked ready to collapse. Only his locked arms kept him from doing so.

"Hey," Bobby said softy, stroking one of his arms gently.

Crowley smiled and shifted, gently withdrawing from his body. The other man winced at the sensation then relaxed, watching as the demon stretched out next to him, fingers lazily trailing through the stickiness on Bobby's belly before bringing them to his lips to lick clean.

"I wish," the demon whispered then he froze, face going blank as he realized what he had just said.

"What?" Bobby half-growled.

Crowley raised his head, sightless eyes turned in his direction. "I wish I could see you." His voice was quiet.

Bobby snorted. "Same old ugly mug. Hasn't changed a bit."

Crowley frowned. "Not ugly," he corrected. "More like lived in."

"Like that's better?"

Crowley only smiled as he rested his head on his lover's shoulder. "So what do you think?"

Bobby stroked Crowley's hair idly. "Different," he said at last then admitted. "Enjoyable. With the right person."

"Yes. With the right person."

They lay together for several minutes before Crowley sighed. "Feel like a shower?"

"Feel like I need one. If I could move."

That brought laughter from the demon, laughter Bobby readily enjoyed. Because it was real laughter, not mocking or sarcastic or cruel. It was all Crowley.

His Crowley.

"Bobby," Crowley murmured sleepily.

"Hmmmm?"

The demon stirred against him, rubbing his cheek on his chest. "Thank you," he said at last and in those words were other words, words that, as a demon, he could never say out loud.

I love you.

Bobby smiled, pressing his lips to the top of Crowley's head. "You're welcome."

I love you, too.

oooOooo

So this is the end of Blind Trust. I am planning a sequel, Blind Faith, though I don't know when I will do it. There may be a series of one-shots before hand.