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I Can't Help Falling In Love With You

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“I now pronounce you married. You may seal your union with a kiss.”

The Elvis impersonator/minister began to croon softly.

Wise men say
Only fools rush in
But I can’t help falling in love with you
Shall I stay?
Would it be a sin
If I can’t help falling in love with you?

The bright lights and gaudy decor faded away as Bobby SInger joyously kissed his husband. After he lost his beloved wife he believed he’d never marry again, never love again, but now here he was. In a tacky Vegas chapel, married to the King of Hell himself as the King of rock and roll and their song. Life with Crowley was anything but boring.

“Happy wedding day Bobby-Bear,” Crowley said, against his lips before pulling back with a wide grin. “He’s not bad, the real one was better” he observed, sparing a second’s glance at the bedazzled singer. “Dance with me?” He requested, with a slight pout.

“No,” Bobby responded automatically. 

“Yes,” Crowley responded with a smirk, pulling his new husband in close and swaying to the music. Bobby let out a huff of annoyance but gave in a second later, smiling as he wrapped his arms around Crowley and moved with him. 

They walked out of the chapel hand in hand, the expensive Rolls Royce waiting to take them to their hotel looked out of place on the street of cheap chapels and pink limos. They were only streets away from the strip, lined with expensive hotels each with their own classy wedding venues but once they decided to elope to Las Vegas it had to be done this way. 

“To the Bellagio!” Crowley called to the driver before wrapping an arm around Bobby and kissing him throughout the short drive, his soft hands scraping against the salt and pepper stubble on his chin. 

The hotel’s penthouse suite was the opposite to where they had said their vows. The living room area was bigger than Bobby’s little house and almost as opulent as Crowley’s personal rooms in Hell. The creamy marble inlaid with gold and art worthy of the louvre lining the walls made it seem like an alternate world. Opposite the giant four poster bed was a floor to ceiling window looking out on the fountains and across the street to the miniature eiffel tower. “Not what I expected,” Bobby mused, watching the crowds on the streets.

“What’s that, love?” Crolwey asked, coming to join him at the window.

“Las Vegas, once you reach the strip it’s kinda fancy, and looks clean,” he observed in surprise.

“One of my favourite places in the world,” Crowley said with a grin, handing Bobby a glass of top shelf whiskey from the well stocked mini bar. “Sin city doesn’t even begin to describe the fun I’ve had here,” he said, leaning against his husband. “Good thing you made an honest man of me the second we rolled into town.”

“I like the tower.”

“Wait until you see the real one,” Crowley said. “I was thinking a few days here then Paris before the Caribbean?” He suggested. “One of the perks of being King is I get as long as I want to enjoy the honeymoon. I plan to show you the entire world, first class all the way.”

“Sounds good,” Bobby said, turning to him with a smile. “Especially being on the other side of the globe when we tell the boys.”

“You don’t think Moose and Squirrel are going to like their new step-daddy?” He quipped. 

“It’s lucky you’re not easy to kill,” Bobby muttered.

“They’ll get over it,” Crowley assured him. “Eyes on the show, darling,” he directed Bobby’s face to the waters below as the opening bars of Bad Romance began to play and water started shooting upwards. “Second best view on the strip,” he said, loving eyes fixed on the larger man. 

“Cheesy idget,” he scoffed.

“You love it,” Crowley responded with a shit-eating grin.

“I love you,” Bobby responded. A broad palm settled on the back of Crowly’s neck as he was pulled into a deep kiss. The taste of whiskey and fire mixed in their mouths, the lights below forgotten completely.

“I love you too,” Crowley whispered with uncharacteristic honesty. “Only had to tell you half a hundred times to get you to believe me,” he grumbled. 

“For once could you just shut up,” Bobby rumbled, steering them towards the plush bed, leaving a trail of clothes on the way.

"Never," Crowley growled, nipping at Bobby's throat before tugging him away from the bed. "The bathtub here is not to be missed, gorgeous."

The brightly lit bathroom housed a bathtub built to fit two easily and deep enough it had two steps leading up to it. As the tub filled they stripped each other of their remaining clothes. "You really must wear suits more often for me darling," he purred, stroking his hands down Bobby's broad back to grope his ass. Bobby opened his mouth to make a snarky remark back but forgot what it was when he was lifted off the floor and deposited in the water like he weighed nothing. Crowley joined him seconds later, displaying himself proudly. After drifting closer to his lover Crolwey pressed a button and the tub filled with bubbles.

“Damn that feels good,” Bobby moaned as the jets hit a persistent knot in his back.

“I’m planning on pushing you to your limits tonight, my dear,” Crowley purred with a wide grin. “Not as young as you once were, pet.”

“Younger than you,” Bobby snarked in response. “If you’re underestimating hunter stamina then you’re even dumber than you look.”

“I have never underestimated you, love,” Crowley responded with a soft fondness. “And I look forward to enjoying that legendary endurance,” he drifted into Bobby space until his breath washed over his chapped lips. As he licked into his mouth his hand moved up the inside of his thigh, coming to cup his growing erection, moaning as it filled in his grip. “My gorgeous husband,” he growled into Bobby’s mouth before pulling away out of his grip. 

With a filthy grin he half lifted himself out of the wanted, bending his body and displaying himself, smile widening when he heard Bobby’s sharp intake of breath. He moaned softly as large hands stroked over his thighs moving up to massage the plump flesh of his cheeks, squeezing roughly before parting the pale globes and lapping over his puckered hole before wiggling his tongue inside, gasping as the muscles contracted around him. He drew back and bit into the soft flesh, not hard enough to break the flesh but enough to leave a mark. 

Bobby chuckled as he heard a wet noise and saw lube trickled from between Crowley’s cheeks. “Impatient?”

“Very,” Crowley snarled. Seconds away from pleading he grunted in frustration as a thick finger pushed into him. His back arched as the digit brushed against his prostate, pleasure brewing at the base of his spine but it wasn’t enough. “Robert,” he sighed. “Please.”

He felt a soft kiss behind his ear before the entirety of Bobby’s length slid into his magically lubricant hole. “Fuck,” Bobby breathed at the familiar tightness. “You feel so good,” he grunted, laying his chest along Crowley’s back and beginning to move smoothly.

Crowley hummed in satisfaction, tilting his ass upwards allowing Bobby to drive into him at the perfect angle. His thick arms came to wrap around Crowley’s body basking in the heat his body constantly exuded even while his chest was pressed against cool marble. One of Crowley’s arms reaches around to wrap around Bobby’s neck, holding his close, bodies pressed together front to back as he thrust himself backwards. 

The smooth deeps movement became faster, sudden desperation gripping them both. Bobby’s lips sealed over a familiar sensitive spot on Crowley’s throat, kissing and sucking gently, moans vibrating through both their bodies. When a ring of pleasure began to tighten around his spine he reached below the line of the water, wrapping his fist around Crowley’s impressive length and pumping the length with hurried strokes. With a low moan and a stream of infernal swears Crowley arched his back, shifted them both so they were kneeling in the water. The head of his penis poking out of the water and a strong jet pulsing against Bobby’s asshole. Crowley turned his head, tugging on Bobby’s thinning hair, bringing his lips to his for a messy kiss full of tongues and teeth. With a well-practised twist of the wrist Bobby triggered Crowley’s release and the shaking of Crowley’s body and his clenching hole tipped him over the edge. 

Bobby’s hunter reflexes were the only thing that kept them from sinking below the bubbling surface as they relaxed in exhaustion. They were both gasping for breath although only one of them needed to. “Wedded and bedded,” Crowley purred in satisfaction. After a few moments of dazed pleasure Bobby rolled his head to the side and burst out laughing at the copious amount of cum splattered on the gold lined mirror behind the tub. Crowley pulled his husband to rest against him, forcing Bobby to fold himself up to fit into the little spoon position. “I love hearing you laugh, darling Robert,” he said affectionately. 

“You know I don’t like being called that,” he said through laughter. “Fergus,” he let out a surprised yelp when Bobby slapped his ass.

“Behave, husband,” he warned. Bobby shifted enough to reach Crowley’s mouth for another kiss. 

They settled against the edge of the tub, Bobby slunk low between Crowley’s legs, groaning in bliss as Crowley massaged his shoulders and upper back, fingers tracing over old scars and quietly recalling how he acquired each one. It had taken years but he now knew every mark on Bobby’s singer body, every freckle, birthmark and every scar, even the internal ones. The pattern of scars across his body were a source of fascination to Crowley, there were no real bodies in hell so any wounds faded overnight to be replaced with new ones. The body he had chosen was free of scars, the sign of a boring life, it was often easier to possess the unremarkable. This literary agent became a missing person who nobody actually missed. But he liked the voice, the accent was a far cry from his own which mirrored his bitch Mother’s and of course he’d made sure to settle in a vessel with a length of just over ten inches. Minimum requirement. 

He nipped playfully at Bobbys’ ear. “Tilt your head back, love,” he said, grinning to himself when Bobby immediately obeyed, once upon a time he had fought every suggestion Crowley made. His eyes fell shut calmly as Crowley tipped water over his head, wetting his hair, and combing his thick finger through the strands. He reached for the shampoo and worked it into a thick lather, massaging his scalp, scraping it with neatly manicured nails.

“That smells nice,” Bobby observed.

“Spiced orange and pomegranate, “ Crowley told him. “You should learn to enjoy luxury, darling,” he said, mildly scolding. 

“You mean things that cost a month's rent,” Bobby answered, with no real venom.

“I'm glad we understand each other,” Crowley said cheerfully, receiving only a soft huff in response. “Just enjoy it love,” Bobby smiled and leaned back into the touch. He hummed softly when Crowley washed the suds away, kissing his temple. “I do enjoy pampering you my hunter,” he whispered darkly. He smiled, smoothing the conditioner through Bobby’s hair slicking it back. 

Crowley let it sit, filling his hands with bath cream. He spread the mixture over Bobby’s broad shoulder and down his arms, the thick cream a much sweeter, cleaner scent. “Cimmon, sugar and apples,” Crowley supplied without asking. “Suits you beautifully.” 

“Nice,” Bobby mumbled sleepily. 

“Are you becoming too relaxed, dearest,” Crowley teased. “Can’t have you falling asleep before I’m done with you,” he said, hand lightly squeezing Bobby’s dick. 

“Not as young as I once was,” Bobby answered, slightly hissing in over stimulation. 

“Young enough,” Crowley purred, stroking him to half hardness. “And we have all the time in the world, my love,” he traced a stripe up Bobby’s throat with his tongue, the prickle of his stubble was wonderful. 

One of Crowley’s favourite things about his new husband was how undeniably masculine he was, so much more enjoyable than the clean shaven twinks he had enjoyed in the past. There was nothing even remotely feminine about his body, his tough corded muscles and body hair exciting him beyond belief. His thick cock was also very enjoyable. The feeling of a large body pressed against him, driving him to the peak of pleasure was addictive and Crowley could not get enough of that feeling. He enjoyed driving into him in return, inhaling his musky scent, there was nothing he could do with his husband that was not overwhelming. Bobby Singer was made for him, absolute perfection.

Bobby turned his head for a deep, lazy kiss and gently thrust up into Crowley’s hand, cock slowly thickening. Crowley moved his hand away, continuing to wash every inch of Bobby, retracing the memorised territory. He sponged the cream away and tilted Bobby’s head back to wash away the conditioner. 

Bobby’s body felt heavy and relaxed, sparks of pleasure radiating from his penis. He forced himself to move, reversing their position so he could wash Crowley. The feeling of taking care of the King of Hell was just another odd sensation that had become normal to him. He found the actions soothing, the intimacy between them was precious, no longer fragile and tentative but a solid unbreakable bubble. Their own ‘profound bond’.

Crowley’s body fell limp against him as he washed him clean. Even covered in luxury soap there was a strong burning smell underneath, not sulphur, Crowley. Bobby bent his head sucking a mark into Crowley’s neck, the edges purpling under his teeth. “It’s very unprofessional for the leader of Hell to be sporting hickeys,” Crowley purred, tilting his head and exposing his neck further. Bobby drew back slightly. “I didn’t say stop,” he sang with a dark chuckle. Bobby grinned and bit into the marked skin roughly causing Crowley to moan deeply. He pushed away from Bobby and excited the tub, wrapping a thick towel around his waist and holding another out to his husband.

When Bobby left the heated water he shivered slightly and reached for the towel. Crowley pulled it back with a cheeky grin before moving closer and drying Bobby off with gentle strokes, messing up his hair as he dried the burnt red tresses, more grey stands than there had been the first time they kissed. Bobby chuckled at the show of devotion but it felt good to be the one being taken care of. 

He’d spent his whole life taking care of others. Cleaning up the cuts on his Mother’s face, helping her bandage a cracked rib or pop a dislocated shoulder back into place. He saved countless people as a hunter and then supported the next generation as well as raising Sam and Dean. He never asked for a reward, never expected one but when Crowley looked at him with such softness and love; well maybe karma wasn’t complete bull.

They moved into the bedroom, both dry and clean but still horny. The lights from the strip shone through the window, glittery like stars and bouncing off the huge fountain below. Crowley pulled his husband into a kiss as they moved backwards towards the bed. His fingers brushed though Bobby’s hair freshly cleaned and wonderfully soft. Bobby responded by pulling him closer, pressing their naked bodies tightly together. Even though Bobby carried more weight than he had in his youth, Crowley was softer and plumper than him, his strength coming from supernatural powers rather than a hard life. His hand travels down to cup the King’s ass, groping him roughly.

With a light push he was flat on his back, legs hanging off the edge as Crowley sank to his knees and took Bobby’s full length into his mouth, with a single swallow. Bobby’s vision swam at the sudden rush of sensation, one hand fisting the cotton sheets and the other resting on Crowley’s head, not gripping or controlling, just resting on the only thing that kept him grounded. Nothing in this world compared to the wet silken heat of Crowley’s mouth. 

Being forever bound to Crowley meant he would never go to heaven but if it meant being parted then heaven couldn’t have him. He didn’t know what it meant for his soul but he didn’t care. Perhaps he would suffer in hell for the rest of eternity once he shuffled off this mortal coil, he didn’t know and didn’t care.

His dick thickened, growing flush as his blood raced southward and he gasped in pleasure. Crowley’s tongue was far from human and it slipped forward to tickle Bobby’s balls, making him jolt and thrust upwards. When Bobby felt his orgasm approaching at speed he tugged on Crolwey’s dark hair, warning him. Crowley understood the message and grabbed onto Bobby hips holding him close, with one swallow he drew out Bobby’s orgasm swallowing every last drop with a rumbling moan. “You’re delicious, darling,” he said, dropping light kisses along Bobby’s inner thigh as he came down from his high.

He crawled up the bed, laying his smaller body over Bobby’s, dragging his tongue along his collar bone. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Crowley,” he moaned happily. “I’ll miss you.”

“Bold of you to think death will get you out of this marriage, pet,” Crowley quipped, with a wicked smirk. He opened up his legs, letting his rock hard penis press against Bobby’s exhausted length. He dragged his palms down the expanse of Bobby’s furred chest and over his hips. He grinned in delight when his fingers ghosted over Bobby’s length and he hissed in over stimulation. Crowley did not linger to torture him and instead shuffled lower and pushed Bobby’s knees upwards exposing his asshole to his hungry gaze. He hooked Bobby’s legs over his shoulders and massaged his plump cheeks. “Hand me the lube, would you?” He asked, conversationally. Bobby pried his fingers away from the iron grip he had on Crowley’s arms and twisted himself as best he could to reach for the bottle of silky lubricant on the nightstand. “You are more flexible than you look,” Crowley observed, smirk spreading into a filthy grin. “Giving me ideas again.”

“Everything gives you ideas,” Bobby shot back, sitting up for a wet dirty kiss.

“You love it,” Crowley growled against his lips.

“Yeah, I do,” Bobby agreed with another softer sweet kiss. Crowley smiled affectionately and guided Bobby onto his back again. 

He settled back on his knees, clicking open the fresh bottle, wanting to fully open him up slowly, the natural way. He drenched his fingers in the slippery oil, the scent of tart berries filling the air around them. Two fingers rubbed over the puckered skin surrounding Bobby’s opening, increasing in speed and pressure and drinking in every soft, rumbelling moan. He moved with practised movements, watching his hole flutter as he felt the strong muscles relax for him. Crowley used the soft pads of his finger to press lube into the hole, just catching the edges in a tease. 

His middle finger was shoved in brutally, to the knuckle, with hardly any resistance just a wet sound, the muscles welcomed him with a soft fluttering. Crowley grinned when Bobby's dick jumped, trying valiantly to harden again far too quickly. He brushed over the length softly with the backs of his knuckles, humming at the silky feelings as he crooked his finger, stretching the hot cavity. Crowley added even more of the luxurious lubricant, drenching them both further. Bobby let out a rough sound of pleasure when Crowley’s second finger joined the first, slipping in easily but still sending sparks of pleasure through him. Yes Crowley could be rough, even cruel at times but his attention and care in moments like this was nothing short of divine. 

Crowley’s free hand moved to grip Bobby’s thigh, grasping for control as he steadily pumped his fingers in and out, increasingly in speed, with every thrust. Once Bobby was breathing as heavily as him he turned his fingers, bushing against his prostate, moaning at the wounded howl it drew from his lover. He pushed Bobby’s legs further apart and let his free hand lace with one of Bobby’s eyes connecting as he stimulated the sensitive bundle of nerves, relishing every gasp and groan of pleasure. 

His thrust in his third finger drawing out a harsh hiss as the tight burn mixed with blinding pleasure. Crowley bent his body to lick a stripe along the length of Bobby’s semi-hard dick and their moans of pleasure mixed, echoing throughout the large room. Crowley’s fingers moved fluidly, drawing out to the tip before thrusting back in and caressing the spot that made Bobby’s vision swim. He began to scissor and twist the digits, spreading Bobby wide enough to take his thick length easily. “Fuck, Crowley, get inside me now you god damn tease!” Bobby snarled, forcing himself down on Crowley’s fingers the next time he tried to draw back.

Crowley laughed and patted Bobby’s chest sweetly. “I ought to wash your mouth out with soap and make you say please after that little outburst my darling,” he drew away, shushing Bobby gently when he whined in complaint. “Just a moment more pet,” he drizzled the expensive gel over his thick shaft, coating it completely until his hand moved with no friction. “Ready for me, love?”

“God, yes please,” Bobby moaned, eyes hazy and pupils blown wide.

“No Gods here my dearest,” Crowley promised darkly and pressed his blunt head to Bobby’s opening. He kissed Bobby deeply as he pushed inside, inch by inch until he was fully buried inside his husband, the feeling almost overwhelming him completely. “I love you my Robert, love you so much.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Bobby chanted, eyes rolling back in ecstasy and wrapping his thick legs around his husbands form, trapping him close. Crowley shifted so he could lay across his body, his forehead pressed tightly against Bobby’s as he inhaled every rapturous exhale. 

He moved slowly at first wanting to feel every inch of his husband wrapped tightly around him. It wasn’t their first time, it was better, every single time he entered Bobby it was more pleasurable, more intense and drove him half-mad. The rest of the world fell away as the edges of his vision went dark, a world of grey that meant nothing. He would give up everything for the man in his arms, serve him in Heaven, Hell or on Earth. Anything to keep him safe and here. 

Both his hands were laced with Bobby’s as he moved inside him, worshipping him with kisses and promises of everlasting love. He never stopped in his movements, varying his speed and depth and angle, making it last for hours, unable to bear the thought of ever being anywhere but buried deep inside the hunter. He grinned into his husband’s neck, nipping at the blunt skin when he felt Bobby’s erection pressed between them. “Brilliant man,” he panted with pure devotion and adoration. He slid a hand free from Bobby’s weakening grasp and slicked up his hand before taking Bobby’s dick in his hand, stroking him in time with his thrusts and drawing it out as long as he possibly could. 

After hours of intense love-making Bobby came with the dawn and Bobby followed soon after. With an animal roar he drew back, curling himself around his blissed out husband, revelling in blissful exhaustion. He spooned up close to Bobby, cleaning them both with a click of his fingers. They lay wrapped up together watching the blazing sun rise over the buildings, bathing the tower opposite them in gold and glinting off the waters below, Bobby groaned at the bright light and turned his back to the view, burying his face in Crowley’s chest hair. 

Crowley reached blindly for the room’s remote, finding it easily, ordering the black out blinds to close, leaving them cocooned together in a soft blanket of darkness. He wrapped both arms around his husband, holding him tightly and listening to the man’s breathing deepen as he fell into a deep heavy sleep.

Even Crowley managed a few hours of sleep, the sound of Bobby’s soft snoring lulling him to a sleep deeper than he’d experienced in centuries. He didn’t need sleep, food, whiskey, but he enjoyed it all nonetheless.

They spent four blissful days, exploring the hotels along the strip, enjoying five star meals and screwing for hours on end. When they were packing, ready to travel first class to Paris, Bobby’s cursed phone rang. “Balls,” he muttered looking at the caller ID before answering. “Hello Sam,” he said, trying not to show any annoyance at the interruption.

Crowley smiled and drew closer, kissing Bobby’s temple. “Tell the boys hi from me,” he whispered under his breath with a soft laugh, not neatly loud enough to be heard on the other end of the line.

“Message me the details and I’ll call when I find something,” he said after a moment. “No, stay where you are and I’ll call. Yeah I’m on a hunt, way outta town,” another pause. “Two days. Bye. Balls!” He repeated, hanging up the phone.

“Problem?” Crowley asked calmly.

“Gotta delay Paris, boys hit a block with a hunt,” he said. 

“We don’t have to do anything, love,” Crowley said.

“They’re my boys,” Bobby said by way of explanation.

Crowley sighed. “If they matter to you, they matter to me,” he said, pressing a kiss to his husband's rough lips. “Finish packing, I’ll change our flight plans.”

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you dearest.”

**********

Missing heart usually meant werewolf but the lunar cycle didn’t line up. Two women were killed in two days, the next a man and then another woman. All went missing from the same street in three different clubs and odds were there would be a fifth that night. Only an hour from Bobby’s home, it was Crowley’s contacts that got them back only three hours before the boys and Castiel arrived. 

The heart wasn’t the only thing taken, the head was too, bitten off by what looked like a huge animal while the heart looked cut out. The bruises and scratches were light, as though left by a human and they did not look like defensive marks.

As soon as they arrived home Bobby hit the books while Crowley started to nest. Tidying the rooms, restocking the fridge, ordering luxury sheets and finer furniture and providing Bobby with drinks and snacks. Crowley was enjoying his role of care-taker immensely and Bobby appreciated it more than he expected. Both found the domesticity soothing as Crowley pottered around and Bobby researched, the door flung open in hopes of letting in a light breeze, the summer heat stifling.

“Any joy darling?” Crowley asked, placing an expensive bottle of chilled quality beer by Bobby’s hand.

“There’s something about these scratches, something not right but I don’t know what it is,” Bobby growled in frustration. “I haven’t seen this before, it may not be a species specific pattern. Any ideas?” He asked.

“It’s not a demon, not working with one either,” he said. “I’m kept too busy to bother with monsters much.” 

Bobby took a sip of his drink and moaned in delight. “This is good,” he said, slightly surprised. “Really good.”

“Of course it is,” Crowley quipped. 

“You take such good care of me,” he teased affectionately. “Mrs Singer.”

Crowley purred in delight at the joking nickname. “Why thank you, Mr Singer,” he responded, dropping into Bobby laps for a kiss that turned into several, books and monsters and everything forgotten so completely that they missed the sound of the impala pulling up or the arrival of the boys until they heard Dean’s reaction. 

“Crowley!” He thundered. “What the hell?” He and Sam both had guns pointed at him while Castiel’s eyes gleamed with grace and Crowley looked at them with a poor attempt at innocent eyes. 

“Balls,” Bobby muttered softly. He gently patted Crowley’s thigh, urging him to stand up. He obliged but stayed close when Bobby moved to his hips. “Weapons down,” he said, firm but calm. The boys lowered their guns slightly but did not holster them.

“Bobby, if you have a problem you call us you don’t make a demon deal, especially not with him,” the last word came out with a curled lip.

“You wound me Moose,” Crowley said smoothly, placing his left hand over his heart. “I thought we were finally starting to get along.

“Can you not? Just give me a minute,” Bobby said to Crowley, who shrugged but stayed silent. “There’s no deal,” Bobby explained.

Dean snorted. “Then why-”

“They’re married,” Castiel stated with mild surprise. His gaze was settled on Bobby’s left hand, where a gold band sat, matching the one Crowley wore.  “Congratulations.”

“What?” Dean snarled, rounding on Castiel.

“Is that not the correct response?” He asked with a head tilt. 

“No!” Dean snapped.

“Yes,” Crowley spoke at the same time. “Thank you feathers.” 

Dean looked fit to explode while Sam just looked shocked. Castiel looked between them, just as confused and unsure if he had misspoke. “You got married to Crowley?” Sam asked slowly, trying hard to keep up with the situation. 

“Yes,” Bobby said, trying his hardest to speak calmly.

“In Vegas,” Crowley added with a grin, taking Bobby’s hand in his, sharing a warm smile.

“Why?” Dean asked, much louder than was required.

Crowley rolled his eyes. “You know you’re handling this slightly better than expected,” he commented.

“This, us, has been going on for a while, years” Bobby said, somewhat sheepishly. “When you guys called we were at the Bellagio, not on a hunt.”

“You’ve been seeing Crowley, seriously, and you never told us?” Sam asked, sounding hurt. 

“Well look how well you boys are taking it,” Crowley said with a steely edge. “What can I say? That kiss had me hooked.”

“That kiss doesn’t count,” Bobby insisted.

“Tongue counts, love.”

“Deals don’t count,” a smile was tugging at his mouth, Crowley’s smile was infectious.

“Let’s not argue in front of the children dear,” Crowley said sweetly.

“I can’t handle this right now,” Dean groaned. “Can we just shelve this?” Bobby nodded and Crowley stopped whatever comment he was about to make.

“Yeah, just let us process this okay?” Sam agreed, much calmer than his brother. “Did you find anything on the case?” He asked.

“Nothing yet,” Bobby said, with a deep sigh, taking his seat. “I don’t know of any monsters that would chew off the head but then surgically remove the heart. Doesn’t make sense.”

“Could it be taking the heart?” Sam asked. 

“No trail of blood or even much mess, but I guess it’s possible,” Bobby said uncertainly.

“Sure it’s not some kind of demon?” Dean asked, throwing a nasty look to Crowley.

“Certain,” Bobby said sharply.

“I’m feeling unwelcome,” Crowley announced with false levity. “I’ll bring out some snacks,” he said quietly, brushing a hand along Bobby’s shoulder before leaving, taking a close up photo of scratches with him. 

He was savagely cutting into an apple when Bobby came after him, wrapping his arms around him from behind. “ Don’t even think about complaining love, you don’t eat enough fruit and vegetables and ketchup does not count,” Bobby didn’t answer, just pressed a reassuring kiss to his temple. Smiling, Crowley turned his head for a soft lingering kiss. “I didn’t get shot so better than expected.”

“Give them time. We could have told them in a less visual way,” they both laughed softly.

“I think you had the right idea, telling them from an undisclosed location in Europe,” Crowley admitted.

“I think you were right, shoulda told them months ago.”

“Coulda, woulda, shoulda,” Crowley said with a shrug, glancing at the picture. “I think I have an idea what this could be but it’s a long shot, they are meant to be extinct,” he said.

“Come and tell us,” he said, tugging Crowley by the hand into the living room where the boys sat. “Listen,” he instructed.

“Has anyone heard of a Kishi?” Crowley asked. “They are a monster from African mythology, very rare and I’ve not heard of one in a century or so, but then I have been rather busy. They get called a demon or spirit but they fall into the monster category, not my domain.”

“What makes you think it’s that?” Sam asked, as Bobby scoured his book for African mythology. 

“These marks,” Bobby said, placing the photo on the table. “The scratches are more curved than a human’s marks would be and the positioning of the bruises, look. Those look like fun bruises to me.”

“Not wrong,” Dean admitted grudgingly. Bobby dropped an open book onto the table. 

“The face they present is handsome while the back is the face of a hyena. It seduces and lures away its victim before eating their victim's face and devouring their heart. Never not hungry, some have tried to fit in with society but their hunger often prevents it,” he read. “Sounds right, but why cut out the heart instead of just eating it at the scene.”

“Nibbles for later?” Crowley suggested. “Many extinct monsters simply learn to live amongst humans although I never thought something like that would managed it, viscous things, desperate for food, sex, love.”

“That makes sense,” Castiel said. “If they are constantly ravenous then that would explain the frequency of the victims.”

“Street full of bars, full of people looking to get laid, perfect hunting ground,” Dean agreed. “How do you kill it?”
 
“Not much in the books, something about separation and burning,” Bobby answered.

“So good old fashioned dismemberment and burning it is,” Dean said, finally cracking a smile. “My favourite.”

“They’re a little trickier than that since they’re only half alive anyway,” Crowley ventured. “You need to wait until it’s ready to feed so its less handsome face is fully formed. Then slice the head in two and burn both faces, so the stories go.”

“So how do we spot it?” Sam asked.

“The females of the species were supposed to have died out fifty years before the men so you’re probably looking for the most handsome man in the place,” Crowley said. “Other than that, long black hair and long nails are common. Be warned they’re not just attractive, everything about them is designed to lure in a victim, scent, voice, charm, they’re worse than crossroads demons.”

“Three night clubs, three of us, let’s kill this thing tonight,” Dean said. “Thanks Bobby.” 

Crowley cleared his throat pointedly. “Thank you,” Sam said quietly and received a curt nod. Dean walked out to the car with Castiel close behind. “He’s shocked,” Sam said by way of explanation. “We all are. We saw you six months ago and didn’t know anything then we come here and you’re married to Crolwey? It’s a lot.”

“Yeah, it is,” Bobby answered, nodding.

“After this case, when we get a break, maybe we could, I don’t know, have a family dinner or something. You can tell us the whole story, explain things,” Sam suggested. 

Bobby exchanged a smile with Crowley. “We’d like that,” he replied.

Sam pulled Bobby into a hug. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy for you,” he said. He drew back and looked at Crowley uncomfortably. “Congratulations, I guess.”

“Thank you Sam,” he said sincerely. With a tight smile he headed out to join his brother, the car purring as it drew away.

“That was a pleasant surprise,” Crowley said, flopping down on the couch. “Here I thought Moose would be the hard one.”

“They’re good boys, both of them,” Bobby said, sitting down next to him, smiling when Crowley’s arm dropped to his shoulder. “And Garth is gonna love you, give you free teeth cleanings for life.”

“How many hunters did you adopt over the years?” Crowley asked. 

“Just those two, a contact sent Garth my way after some problems with a tooth fairy,” he said with a short laugh. 

“Irritating swines,” Crowley responded with a sneer. “Now I don’t expect Daddy, but how about Uncle Crowley?”

“Will you behave at dinner?” Bobby asked. “I know it’s fun to tease but just for once try not to stir up trouble, for me?” 

“Anything for you,” he promised. “My hunter.”

A veteran hunter and the King of Hell. Stranger things have happened.