Notes: Sequel to Strange Bedfellows. Completely AU now after "Weekend at Bobby’s". But we like our version of Crowley’s past better.

WARNING: Wing-porn

Two Million, Six Hundred Fourteen Thousand, Nine Hundred and Eighty

By Orithain and Rina

October 2010

Disclaimers: No infringement is intended.

Dust motes danced in the rays of sunlight that crossed the room, illuminating the shattered remnants of once luxurious furniture. Broken shards littered the floor, highlighted in the brightness caused by the light pouring through the holes in the walls and ceiling. Tufts of goose down floated in the air, occasionally catching on jagged edges and broken glass.

In the center of the devastation stood a dark-haired man, his hands clenched into fists at his sides and his brown eyes filled with blind rage and unspeakable grief. He’d once assisted the Winchesters out of self-interest, but now... he wanted Lucifer dead.

He vanished from the room, hellfire filling it and destroying what was left of the place he’d once shared with the archangel Gabriel.

Crowley sat in a comfortable velvet-upholstered wingback chair, a glass of two-hundred-year-old brandy in his hand, and he stared into the flames dancing in the stone fireplace. Against all odds he’d not only helped the Winchesters defeat Lucifer and avert the apocalypse, but he’d also survived it all.

"Here’s to you, Gabriel. You would have enjoyed the sheer unlikelihood of this."

As if in answer, there was a resounding crash and a groan from the shattered remains of the ebony curio table in the corner of the room.

Crowley leaped to his feet, a ripple in the air at his side, and he cautiously advanced toward the corner, a demon-killing knife in hand. "Who’s there?"

"Urm. Ow." The muttered out words came from the prone form who was slowly picking himself out of the remains of the table.

Crowley’s eyebrows rose at the familiar voice, and he stopped in his tracks, the knife in a ready position. "The angel you’re impersonating is dead, so I repeat, who the hell are you?" The last was roared.

Gabriel sat up and eyed the knife, a familiar grin curving his mouth though something in his eyes looked far older than it had before. "C’mon, Crowley, that’s not what I want you sticking in me, but if it makes you feel better, go for it. Cute dog by the way."

Crowley remained where he was, the hellhound at his side growling softly. "Gabriel died."

"Yeah, I did," Gabriel sighed, reflexively rubbing a hand over the center of his chest. "Which makes me wonder why I’m back and why I’m here of all places."

"Well, your Father brought Castiel back again, and then he brought Bobby back," Crowley said slowly, lowering his hand.

"Really?" Gabriel seemed distracted for a moment before slowly nodding. "So He did. Guess He decided that life is too boring without me."

"Are you really you?" Crowley took a step closer, barely noticing when the hellhound left.

"As far as I know, I am. How long has it been anyway?" As Gabriel spoke, he got to his feet and dusted himself off, watching Crowley the whole time.

"Since you died? Four weeks, two days, six hours and twenty-three minutes." Crowley gave him a pained smile. "Since the apocalypse that wasn’t? A few hours."

"Ah. Guess Dad was keeping me on ice until everything fell out." He paused at that, chewing his lower lip as he studied the being in front of him. "You don’t look so good, Crowley."

"I don’t look good? I don’t look good?!" Crowley roared furiously. "I told you not to get yourself killed!"

"I didn’t do it on purpose!"

"Idiot!" Crowley strode forward and grabbed Gabriel’s shirtfront, wrenching him into a tight hug. Gabriel almost melted around him, supporting the demon and murmuring soothing nonsense in his ear as he stroked Crowley’s back.

"This is all your fault," Crowley growled. "I’m a bloody demon."

"But you’re a cute bloody demon," Gabriel corrected, kissing his ear.

"I am not cute!" Crowley drew his head back to glare at the angel he was still clutching tightly.

"Hot? Sexy? You wear literary agents well?"

Crowley had to chuckle. "You have no idea how many souls I got as a literary agent. It was the perfect cover."

"And here I thought you were more into pop stars and industry moguls..."

"Writers are more interesting." Crowley smirked at him.

"More imaginative certainly." Unable to resist, Gabriel leaned in and licked at Crowley’s lower lip, causing the demon to shudder and open his mouth to draw Gabriel’s tongue in, the familiar flavor finally convincing him that this really was Gabriel.

"Believe it’s me now?" Gabriel whispered against Crowley’s lips.

"I should have known. No one else would have contrived to break my favorite table on landing."

"You have a favorite table? Who has a favorite table?"

"I did."

Gabriel glanced back over his shoulder, snapped his fingers, and the table was in one piece again. "There, now you do again."

"Good angel. I’ll get you a treat for that."

"What about a welcome back present?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"Welcome back sex?" Gabriel asked hopefully.

"I think I can manage that." Crowley smirked, and an instant later they were in a richly appointed bedroom that bore no resemblance to his previous one. This was decorated in heavy bronzy-gold damask and deep brown brocade and velvet, entirely masculine and purely sybaritic.

"Reliving the Gilded Age?" Gabriel asked, beginning to push Crowley’s jacket from his shoulders.

"I like earth tones," Crowley informed him, getting rid of Gabriel’s clothes more expediently.

"They make you look good. You find a new tailor? These are nice." Crowley’s tie hit the floor, and the archangel began to slowly slide the buttons of his shirt from their holes.

"You didn’t think I was going to resort to off-the-rack, did you?"

"Knowing you, no."

"I’ve never liked anything common." Crowley’s hands ran over Gabriel’s back, lightly stroking the areas next to his shoulder blades where his wings would begin if they were visible.

Gabriel shivered in response, the muscles in his back flexing beneath Crowley’s fingers. "That feels really good," he purred, sliding his hands inside Crowley’s shirt and tugging it from his pants.

"It’s supposed to," Crowley assured him.

"Keep it up and I might have a wing accident."

Crowley paused, his fingers still against Gabriel’s back as he considered that. "Would I be immolated if they came out?"

"No," Gabriel said with utmost assuredness. "They’ll be good."

"Well, then, I’ve never actually seen an angel’s wings..."

"Better take a few steps back then; they take up a lot of space."

Crowley’s smile was almost childlike in its delight as he did as bid and waited, his eyes on Gabriel, who smirked, bowed his head, then was suddenly hidden by a furled expanse of mottled brown and tan wings. He raised his head, grinning the Trickster’s grin, and spread them, exposing their brilliant white underside.

"Ohh," Crowley breathed, his eyes fixed on the glory of an archangel’s wings. "You’re beautiful."

Gabriel started to say something, then shrugged, rustling his feathers. "Glad you like them."

Crowley stepped forward hesitantly and reached out almost tentatively to brush his fingertips over the feathers. "So soft," he murmured.

"It’s been a long time since I brought them out." Gabriel flexed a wing and glanced at the feathers. "Guess they got redesigned while I was gone; they were all white before."

Crowley snickered. "What, the more you die, the darker they get? Though you match my room."

"How about we not test that theory," Gabriel suggested. "Black is so not me." As he spoke, he arched into Crowley’s touch, his wing stretching out beneath the demon’s touch.

"Plus then I would need to redecorate." Crowley smirked at him even as he stroked the wing more firmly, smiling delightedly.

"Well, I don’t want to put you out..." Gabriel’s voice had dropped to a low growl as Crowley’s fingers threaded through the feathers on the edge of his wing.

"Glad to hear it." Crowley watched his fingers stroke the gleaming feathers, and he moved closer, letting Gabriel feel the heat of his body.

"Tease." As he spoke, Gabriel reached for Crowley’s belt before the rest of the demon’s clothes vanished so that his hands skimmed over bare flesh instead.

"How can I be a tease when you know I always put out in the end?" Crowley chuckled, pressing close to Gabriel’s back between his widespread wings.

"It’s intent, not outcome."

"Ah. Then perhaps you might not be entirely incorrect," Crowley allowed.

Gabriel chuckled quietly and pressed back against Crowley at that. "Out or in?"

"Out, definitely out," Crowley nearly purred, one hand petting a wing while the other slid over Gabriel’s hip to spread over his belly.

"Why, Crowley, you wing-slut, you," Gabriel laughed though his stomach clenched under the demon’s touch.

"Are you complaining?" Crowley chuckled throatily against Gabriel’s ear, his hand slowly creeping lower.

"Not in the least." Feathers rustled as Gabriel reached back, stroking a hand down Crowley’s thigh, his fingers digging into the taut muscle along its length.

"Glad to hear it." Crowley leaned back slightly and rubbed a cheek against Gabriel’s wing at the same moment that he curled his fist around the angel’s cock.

The noise the emerged from Gabriel’s throat could in no way be described as a whimper—at least that was what he told himself.

"Nice," Crowley purred, still rubbing and stroking, and now his cock slotted between Gabriel’s cheeks, gliding along the valley.

"That doesn’t really describe either of us, does it?" Gabriel braced against Crowley’s thrusts, then twisted his torso so that he could devour Crowley’s mouth.

Crowley chuckled and tumbled them onto the bed, making sure to land on his back and twist Gabriel so that he landed chest to chest with Crowley, his wings free behind him.

"I’m glad you missed me," Gabriel murmured, nibbling his way down Crowley’s neck even as he rocked against him.

"I never said that," Crowley protested, his hands already going back to Gabriel’s wings.

"No, you didn’t, did you." Gabriel grinned the maniacal Trickster’s grin before diving back in to feast on the hollow of Crowley’s throat.

Crowley groaned his pleasure, letting his hands fall from Gabriel’s wings for fear of damaging them as he arched under the archangel.

"They’re pretty durable, so go ahead, grab on if you want."

With that invitation, Crowley buried his fingers in the feathers, combing through them with each arch of his body under Gabriel’s, the archangel managing to shift their bodies enough so that finally he was pushing into Crowley’s body.

Crowley cried out at the sudden fullness, clenching down on the familiar invasion as his body accepted Gabriel easily.

"Mmm, feels like coming home," Gabriel sighed, mantling his wings over them both as they moved together, each stroke somehow managing to go deeper within Crowley’s body.

"Try to remember that and not get lost again."

"Not a problem," Gabriel promised, licking at Crowley’s mouth as they moved together.

"Good," Crowley rasped. "If you ever do that again, I’ll find a way to resurrect you myself just so I can drag you down to Hell!"

Gabriel burst into laughter at that, his whole body shaking in reaction.

Crowley glared at him. "I am a demon, you know!"

"One who wants nothing to do with Hell."

"I’ll make an exception."

"No, you won’t," Gabriel grinned, driving forward and hitting Crowley’s prostate.

"Fuck you," Crowley growled even as he jerked under Gabriel.

"I am.

"Stop talking then."

"I will if you will." Before Crowley could answer, Gabriel kissed him again, silencing them both except for the grunts and gasps of pleasure as they moved together.

"I’m glad you’re back," Crowley panted some time later, his arms around Gabriel’s back, still petting the archangel’s wings as the pleasure continued to mount.

"Shh, no talking," Gabriel whispered, though he shuddered as Crowley dragged his fingers through his feathers.

"Ever?" Crowley smiled against the sandy brown hair.

"You’re kidding, right?"

Crowley laughed. "I didn’t really think you could manage that. Nor would I want you to."

"Not that you could stop me if I wanted to talk." Gabriel drove forward and slid a hand between them to circle Crowley’s cock.

"I like listening to you talk, most times."

"And I like listening to you groan."

Crowley chuckled. "Make me."

Gabriel caught Crowley under the hips, tilting them upward so he could drive inwards, each thrust in time with a pull at Crowley’s cock. "I will," he rasped, flipping a wing against Crowley’s hand.

Crowley shuddered and buried his fingers in the wing, arching up against Gabriel, who thrust into him again and again, each thrust taking them both higher and higher. Crowley clutched at him desperately and groaned, the sound torn from the very depths of him, and hot liquid spurted between them, coating Gabriel’s hand and their bellies.

Gabriel moaned, coming a split second after Crowley, his mouth sealed over the other being’s as pleasure roared through him. His wings flared, pulling against Crowley’s hold but not tearing loose, and he finally gasped, pulling back enough to grin down at the demon. "You missed me."

"Oh fine," Crowley grumbled, "but I’ll deny it if you ever repeat that."

"Two million, six hundred fourteen thousand, nine hundred and eighty."


Gabriel beamed and pressed a kiss against the confused curl of Crowley’s lips. "You’ll figure it out in time, sweetie."

Crowley gave him a narrow-eyed look. "Why do I think I’m going to be throwing something at you when I do?"

"Because we know each other."

Crowley chuckled. "Some might say that’s not a good thing."

"But others might not."

"Including us."

"That’s because we don’t have any delusions."

"Lucky us."

"I’ve thought that all along."

"Since that first night at the crossroads when I tempted a pope?"

"Mmm, exactly, though really he did his own tempting; you just gave him what he thought he wanted."

Crowley smirked. "It’s the best way of getting souls."

"Doesn’t seem like you’ve done that lately," Gabriel mused. "Business slow?"

"I’ve been a bit distracted by the apocalypse," Crowley pointed out. "And now I don’t see why I should send souls to your idiot brother."

"Technically it’s idiot brothers since there are two of them stuck down there," Gabriel mused, stroking a hand down Crowley’s side.

"Michael doesn’t have much use for humans, so I doubt he’s interested in their souls."

"So what have you been doing since then?"

"Drinking, mostly. It seemed to work for Castiel."

"Drinking’s a good thing; fucking’s better though."

"I haven’t really been in the mood lately," Crowley growled, earning himself a kiss. When it ended, Crowley was smiling and petting Gabriel’s wings again.

"Glad you were in the mood now," the archangel purred, shifting his body, their skin becoming clean in the process.

"Oh, like anyone’s ever said no to you," Crowley snorted.

"One of our favorite brothers did."

Crowley gawked. "Please tell me you’re talking about Dean, although I wouldn’t have expected him to turn you down."

"I think he was still mad at me for hitting Sam in the balls at the time."

Crowley snickered. "I think you should get a medal for that."

"I thought it was creative."

"It was," Crowley assured him. "Even if you ended up giving yourself away."

Gabriel grumbled good-naturedly at that. "Dean Winchester gives epic guilt."

Crowley snickered and patted a wing consolingly, and it flicked outward in response.

"He does!"

"I’m a demon, Gabriel; I don’t do guilt."

"So what do you do?"

"Trickster archangels apparently."

"Nothing better that I can think of doing," Gabriel chuckled, shifting enough to sprawl comfortably on top of Crowley, his wings blanketing them both.

"Mm, comfortable," Crowley said happily, brushing the underside of Gabriel’s wings as he wrapped an arm around the archangel’s waist.

Gabriel burrowed his face against the side of Crowley’s neck, sighed happily and kissed the warm flesh.

"We should probably let Dean know you’re alive. He felt pretty guilty about you dying, and he could use some good news."

"So you’ve kept in touch with him, have you?" Gabriel yawned.

"I check in on him from time to time."

"Does he know that?"

Crowley smirked.

"Mmm, that’s right, can’t be seen as doing something that might be construed as nice, can we?"

"We already established that neither of us is nice," Crowley pointed out.

"Not overtly anyway."

"I’m sure we can find a not-nice reason to drop in him."

Gabriel smirked and toasted the demon with his mug of coffee. "I’m sure we could find several million of them."

"So, once we’re done here, shall we?"

"You planning on doing the dishes?" Gabriel asked.

Crowley glanced at them, and they vanished, Gabriel applauding the feat before he stood. "You get to lead; I can’t find him, but you know where he is."

"You really should do something about those sigils so you can find him," Crowley said. "I can’t keep bugging him forever."

"That’s his choice," Gabriel shrugged. "If he doesn’t try to kill me, I’ll ask."

"Why would he try to kill you?" Crowley asked, genuinely confused.

"Well, you never know with those Winchesters," Gabriel shrugged.

"Only one Winchester now," Crowley reminded him. "At least we got the more interesting one."

"Good point, so what’s he been up to, and why do I think he’s not taking Sam being stuck with Luci and Mikey well?"

"It has only been a day," Crowley pointed out. "He promised Sam he’d stop hunting, so he’s headed for the woman and kid he thought might be his, to start a ‘normal’ life." Crowley snorted. "Can you picture Dean Winchester in a nine-to-five job?"

"Shit, that’s right, I keep getting the timeline screwed up; being nonexistent will do that to you," Gabriel sighed, slapping himself on the side of the head.

"But no, not that he wouldn’t try, especially if he promised Sam."

Crowley smirked. "I’d say it’s our duty to save him from himself, wouldn’t you?"

"Is this a case of archangel on one shoulder and demon on the other?" Gabriel grinned, "Because I really like that one."

"Sounds like fun, doesn’t it?" Crowley laughed.

"For us anyway, and eventually Dean will think so too."

"Then I think we should go get started." Crowley offered a hand to Gabriel, and once the angel took it, he moved them to the parking lot of a motel where Dean stood staring at the Impala, hands stuffed in his pockets and his shoulders slumped.

"Now that is a pathetic sight," Gabriel said, shaking his head sympathetically.

Dean whirled around, his eyes widening at the sight of Gabriel, and he backpedalled frantically, trying to reach the trunk of the Impala.

"It really is Gabriel," Crowley offered.

Gabriel waved as he grinned the Trickster’s grin. "It is, promise."

Dean still regarded them warily. "And how the hell would you know?" he demanded of Crowley, who gave a low, sensual laugh.

"No one knows him better."

"Inside and out," Gabriel snickered before rolling his eyes at Dean’s disbelief. "Okay, ask me something only Gabriel would know."

"Uh..." Dean tried to think of something, and a lost, broken expression flashed through his eyes just before he asked, "What was the last thing you did to Sam in TV Land?"

"Turned him into a car." The humor left Gabriel’s expression at that, and he stepped forward to rest a hand on Dean’s shoulder. "I’m sorry it went down like that, that you lost both of them.

Dean flinched, but he didn’t pull away from the touch. "How?" he asked.

"Bloody good question," Crowley muttered.

"Prayer," Gabriel answered simply.

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. "No offense, Gabe, but who would be praying to get you back?"

Gabriel canted his head in the demon’s direction while at the same time holding a finger up to his lips. "Shh, he doesn’t know it."

Crowley sputtered for a moment before snapping, "I did not! Demons don’t pray!" His eyes widened as something clicked, and he roared, "I did not pray every second!"

"Two million, six hundred fourteen thousand, nine hundred and eighty times," Gabriel informed Dean knowingly. "I think Dad was impressed."

Crowley growled, "I did not!"

"Dude, you’re such a girl," Dean said, amused despite himself. "Besides," he added, sobering quickly, "if that’s all it takes, why isn’t Sam here too?"

"Not to take anything away from you, Dean, but Sam sacrificed himself purposefully to cage Lucifer, plus there’s the issue of a demon praying for something? Doesn’t happen all that often—or ever, really."

"Hasn’t happened yet," Crowley grumbled, ignored by both of the others.

"So Sam sacrifices himself to save the world, and he’s rewarded by being trapped in Hell for all eternity? Your Father sucks."

"Not arguing that in the least," Gabriel shrugged before glancing over at Crowley. "And he’s cute when he sulks, isn’t he? But look, I’ll poke around, see what I can do; I’m sure Dad didn’t being me back just ‘cause Crowley wanted his sex toy back."

"TMI!" Dean yelled, clapping his hands over his ears, which at least made Crowley stop grumbling to laugh at him, Gabriel joining in, stepping back to lean against the demon’s side when his knees threatened to give out.

"Dean, you always crack me up," he finally snickered.

"Great, did you pair of laughing hyenas have a reason for coming here other than to make me need to bleach my brain?" Dean grumbled, finally going inside his room, Crowley and Gabriel following him.

"I wanted to check up on you, and Crowley knew where you were, so... here we are."

Dean frowned. "And how did Crowley know where I was since I still have the hex bag?"

Crowley smirked at him. "I have my ways, Dean; you know that."

"You bugged the damn car again, didn’t you?"

"Good thing he did since I can’t find you," Gabriel pouted.

"Best thing Cas ever did," Dean said smugly.

Gabriel sighed dramatically, and Dean regarded him for a long moment before shrugging.

"So, I’m guessing that an archangel can do more with sigils than ordinary angels," he said slowly. "Can they be adjusted so that just one or two specific angels can find me?"

"Yup," Gabriel grinned, "let me guess, me and baby bro?"

"I must need my head examined, but yeah," Dean sighed.

Crowley snickered. "I’ve always enjoyed it when he drops in."

"He likes to yell at me," Gabriel whispered loudly as he walked back to Dean’s side. "Mind if I take a look at them?"

"That depends on how you’re planning to do it!"

"Well, I’m not planning on pulling your ribs out of your chest!" the archangel huffed.

"Just checkin’. Fine, fine, whatever."

Crowley laughed. "How did you ever survive this long?"

"Angels were watching him," Gabriel murmured as he placed a hand on Dean’s chest, closing his eyes and falling silent.

"Okay, that really freaks me out," Dean muttered.

"That’s because most angels should freak you out," Crowley informed him, though most of his attention was on what Gabriel was doing.

Several minutes passed before Gabriel stepped back, his lips curved in a beatific smile. "All done."

"Huh." Dean’s eyebrows rose. "Well, at least it didn’t hurt this time."

"Nothing against the baby bro, but there is a difference between the two of us," Gabriel shrugged.

"Yeah, yeah, archangel, got it. Hey, if there were only four of you, and you were MIA and Lucifer was in hell, does that mean that Michael or Raphael was watching over Chuck?"

"That would have been Rafe. So, are you really going to hang with Lisa and Ben?"

"Promised Sam I would." Dean shrugged.

"Sam’s not here; you are," Crowley pointed out. "Don’t you think maybe you should live the life you want?"

"That would mean he could figure out what he really wants," Gabriel commented thoughtfully.

"Fuck you both."

"Well, we’ve never tried a threesome," Crowley mused.

"Could be fun," Gabriel mused though there was still a far-off look in his eyes.

Dean sputtered, but Crowley was distracted by watching Gabriel.

"What is it?"

"Just a thought," Gabriel waved his hand and grinned. "Nothing to worry about, I don’t have them often."

Dean eyed him warily. "No, but it never turns out too well for me when you do."

"But I always enjoy it," Crowley put in cheerfully.

"I’ll... let you know about this one."

Dean and Crowley gave him nearly identical frowns, and Gabriel looked from one to the other. "Aren’t the two of you just too adorable!"

And then they both looked equally revolted.

"I’m not adorable!"

"Demons aren’t adorable!"

"Yes, you are," Gabriel said knowingly. "Both of you."

"Great, you came back from the dead to make my life miserable. Why bother?"

Crowley made a soft sound that made Dean’s eyes dart to him, and whatever he saw caused him to look away. "Sorry," he said softly as Gabriel flashed from his side to Crowley’s, his arms going around the demon and his wings enfolding them both.

Dean’s eyes widened at the sight of Gabriel’s wings, and he gasped faintly, making Crowley raise his head from Gabriel’s shoulder to look at him. Realizing what the issue was, Crowley chuckled.

"Amazing, aren’t they?" As had already become a habit whenever Gabriel’s wings were in reach, Crowley was petting them.

Gabriel looked over at Dean as well and winked. "Don’t worry, they aren’t loaded."

"Kinda already figured that out, being as my eyes haven’t burned out of my head," Dean pointed out, "but thanks." He couldn’t stop staring at the sight of a demon petting an archangel’s wings.

"You wanna try?" Gabriel offered, flicking the wing that Crowley wasn’t touching in Dean’s direction.

Dean’s eyes widened even more, but he reached out, tentatively stroking his fingertips over the feathers. "So soft," he marveled.

Crowley grumbled faintly, his fingers weaving deeper into the wing he was petting.

"Don’t worry, baby, they’re all yours," Gabriel murmured into the demon’s ear before grinning at Dean. "Glad you like ‘em." One of them hit a ticklish spot, because Gabriel twitched at that moment.

Dean snickered. "Okay, that was just like rubbing a dog’s belly."

Crowley muffled a chortle against Gabe’s neck.

"You want me to hump your leg next?" Gabriel asked dryly.

"I really hope you were asking him that," Dean muttered.

"It’s not my leg he humps," Crowley informed him.

Gabriel just grinned. "I could if you wanted." He stretched, and his wings vanished, but he kept his arm around the demon.

"That’s okay, I think we’re past that," Crowley told him dryly, making Dean head for his duffle that he’d tossed onto one of the beds and pull out a bottle of whiskey.

"So seriously, Dean, what are you going to do now?" Gabriel asked, conjuring his own bottle when Dean seemed not to want to let go of his.

"I... don’t know. I’m supposed to go to Lisa and Ben and live a normal freaking life, but what the fuck is that supposed to be, and why the fuck would I want that when I know what’s out there?" Dean took a long pull on the bottle.

Gabriel glanced over at Crowley before offering him the bottle and pulling him over to the bed to sit down, pulling Dean down next to them. "All good questions," he mused.

"Great, got any answers?"

"This is something you’re going to have to answer for yourself, Dean," Crowley said, regarding him with something like sympathy. "Just as I never made a deal the other party didn’t ask for, no one can force you into a life you don’t want. But you have to decide what you do want." Unspoken was the fact that the questions alone showed what he didn’t want.

"You probably shouldn’t be alone..." Gabriel mused when Dean still remained silent.

"Well, it doesn’t look like I have much choice," Dean retorted, tacitly admitting that he wasn’t going to Lisa.

"You mean you don’t want us to keep you company?" Gabriel pouted. "I know, how about this." He snapped his fingers, and Castiel appeared in the room, looking wide-eyed and disoriented.

"What..." The angel’s blue eyes widened as he took in the trio sitting on the beds. "Gabriel."

"Hey, bro. How they hanging?"

Castiel’s smile warmed the room. "It is good to see you again, Brother. I had not thought ever to do so."

"Yeah, me neither. Apparently we have Crowley to thank for it," Dean told him.

"I. Did. NOT. PRAY!"

"Two million, six hundred fourteen thousand, nine hundred and eighty," Gabriel said smugly.

"That is unexpected but welcome." As he spoke, Castiel looked over at Dean.

Crowley snatched up one of the pillows and gave Gabriel a solid whack over the head.

Ignoring their antics, aside from moving slightly farther from them, Dean told Castiel, "I’ve had a change of plans. Not quite sure why Gabe kidnapped you though."

The archangel looked up from where he was trying to wrestle the pillow from Crowley and grinned brightly. "He can be your wing man. I figure Crowley and I would end up dragging you into bed at some point, and you’d feel all guilty over it."

"But Heaven is in chaos!" Castiel protested.

"It’ll sort itself out eventually; it always does," Crowley told him. "Besides you know you like spending time down here with Dean."

"You’re good for each other," Gabriel cajoled. "If you want, I can pop on up and smack ‘em on the head."

Castiel looked conflicted, but his gaze kept darting to Dean.

"It’s fine by me," Dean said, trying for indifference but fooling no one.

"C’mon, Cas," Gabriel cajoled. "Hold on a second..." He vanished, only to reappear seconds later, howling with laughter. "Oh, their faces!"

"Did you just terrorize Heaven?" Dean asked.

"Did you get pictures?" Crowley wanted to know.

"What do you think?"

"Hand them over!"

"What are you gonna give me for them?"

Castiel looked pained as he stepped closer to Dean. "Would you like for me to remain?" he asked carefully.

"Yeah, that would be... good. I kinda got used to have you around recently."

"I would like that as well."

"Aren’t they cute?" Gabriel whispered loudly from across the hotel room.

"I really wish you could smite him," Dean grumbled to Castiel while Crowley snickered at them all.

"I’m not able to do that," Castiel said seriously while Gabriel grinned.

"Doesn’t mean I can’t dream about it."

"He does have the most interesting fantasies," Crowley chuckled. "But no one’s smiting Gabriel."

"He’s so cute when he gets protective," Gabriel stage-whispered, and Castiel nodded.

"It is good that when someone loves you."

"Love!" Crowley squawked, glaring at the angel. "What... Who... No one said anything about love!"

"We know that you’re a big, bad demon," Gabriel assured him.

Crowley growled wordlessly.

Dean leaned on Castiel, laughing uncontrollably, the angel’s arm going around his shoulders to support him while Gabriel licked his lips as he studied Crowley’s expression. "Mmm, that’s really hot."

Crowley glared for a moment longer before grabbing Gabriel’s arm. "Have fun, boys!"

He and Gabriel vanished, reappearing in Crowley’s bedroom, Gabriel’s mobile lips curving in a smirk. "Did I hurt your feelings? What can I do to make it up to you?"

"I think you need to fuck me until I feel better about it."

"Any particular position you prefer?"

"Surprise me."

Gabriel chuckled throatily, and suddenly Crowley was naked and suspended face down in the air over the bed.

Crowley let out a sound that might have been a yelp if he’d been anything other than a demon, and Gabriel laughed. "Surprised?" he asked, stroking his hands over Crowley’s bare legs then reconsidering and repeating the move with his wingtips.

"Gabriel!" Crowley shuddered, instantly hard, and his eyes half closed as the sensations ran along his nerve endings.

"Mmmhmm?" the archangel murmured, tilting his head to the side and causing Crowley to slowly turn over in the air, his wings dragging over the demon’s skin as he did so.

"A-are you sure you didn’t work for our side?" Crowley gasped out, his body feeling hypersensitive from Gabriel’s toying with him.

"Sweetie, I was this way before you were a twinkle in Luci’s eye." A wingtip dragged down the crease in Crowley’s ass, feathers tickling the soft skin there, and Crowley jerked in his invisible bonds, a soft whining gasp escaping him.

He was hard and leaking, and his hips twitched, trying to thrust back against the teasing touch.

"Like that, do you?" Gabriel purred, repeating the move, a single feather flicking over Crowley’s hole.

"What do you think?" Crowley rasped.

"I think that you have a wing fixation." The line of Gabriel’s wing brushed over Crowley’s straining cock, and he grinned. "And I think that you love me."

"You’re insane." Crowley nearly bit through his lip trying to hold back a needy cry.

"Doesn’t mean I’m wrong."

Crowley growled at him, and Gabriel snickered as he tickled Crowley’s nose with a wingtip.

"I really, really hate you," Crowley grumbled, but laughter sparkled in his dark gaze.

"I know different." That said, Gabriel went back to attempting to drive Crowley out of his mind using just his wings, and judging by the desperate noises Crowley made and the precome that was leaking from his cock, he was very successful.

"I’m gonna make you a puddle," Gabriel sing-songed, his grin almost maniacal.

"If you break me, you can’t play with me again," Crowley panted.

"I’m not going to break you—much."

Crowley whimpered—a sound that, if Gabriel but knew it, no one else had ever heard since he became a demon. The sound drew a purr out of the archangel, and he dragged his wing over Crowley’s cock, the soft, dry rasp of his feathers audible over their breathing.

Crowley shuddered and cried out again, his body jerking, one touch from coming, a touch that came in the firm stroking of Gabriel’s wing over him, measuring his length from head to feet and rustling over his erection on the way.

"Gabriel!" Crowley jerked as spasm after spasm convulsed his body, extraordinary pleasure radiating through him.

Gabriel gasped, a shudder running through him as he felt liquid heat soak through to the flesh of his wing, and he flipped his wings back out of the way, dragging Crowley toward him and thrusting against him until he was coming as well, pleasure roaring through him before spilling over the demon.

Crowley lay in mid air, an archangel half draped over him, and a sated smile on his face. "Okay, you can surprise me... well, not any time you like," he chuckled, knowing better than to give his Trickster an open invitation like that.

A shit-eating grin greeted that remark as Gabriel lifted his head enough to meet Crowley’s dark gaze. "Sure thing, sweetie."

Crowley rolled his eyes. "You’re giving me cavities." As he spoke, gravity suddenly reasserted itself on his body, sending him bouncing to the bed while Gabriel hung in the air over him.

Crowley gazed up with a jaundiced look. "You’re going to drop on me, aren’t you?"

Gabriel burst into laughter and dropped down, catching himself less than an inch over Crowley’s body. The demon grinned and curled an arm around Gabriel’s waist to tug him down the remaining fraction of an inch while kissing him thoroughly.

"Mmm," the archangel sighed, squirming around until he finally settled. "Comfy."

"That’s me, a body pillow."

"Everyone needs a purpose."

"And yours would be what exactly?"

"Providing entertainment."

"So I’m not the only one being entertained by you?" Crowley asked, eyebrows rising.

Gabriel grinned brightly at that. "Why, Crowley, are you jealous?"

The eyebrows sank down into a scowl, and Gabriel leaned in to press a kiss on each of them. "Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone."

"I’m a bloody demon," Crowley grumbled.

"You’re my bloody demon."

"Ah." Crowley stared, then nodded sharply. "Fine, but then you’re my bloody archangel."

"You didn’t realize that already?"

"Give me a bit of time to catch up to the idea that you’re actually alive again," Crowley protested, sidestepping the rest of it.

"Take all the time you need," Gabriel murmured, cleaning them up and vanishing his wings with a thought.

Crowley’s fingertips ran over Gabriel’s back, stroking the spot where his wings would branch out if they were visible. "Maybe a millennium or two," Crowley mused, a faint smile curving his lips.





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