Crobby (CrowleyxBobby)

Son, want some scotch?

"So, a dead end in that hunt, huh?"
Dean broke the silence, driving early in the day to Bobby's, maybe his old man could help out.

"Uh... Seems like, but I don't get it. We go and it turns out he was already slaughtered?"
Sam sighed, scratching the back of his head, using his puppy dog eyes.

Dean scoffed, "ha, yeah. Kind of like..."
Dean cut himself off. Him and Sam turned there heads to face each other, saying in union-
"Crowley!"

"Crowley, what?"
Cas suddenly appeared, asking the two brothers as they jumped by his arrival.
"Jeez, Cas! Stopping coming up on me like that."
Dean yelled from his eyes being fixed on the road, Sam giggling like a 12-year old, and Dean just staring till he got it, slapping Sam on the back of the head;
"Hey! Not cool."

"I don't find the temperature changing, actually quite warm."

Sam started to lightly snicker as Dean rolled his eyes, "so, Cas, do you think-"

"Bobby and Crowley beat the demon before you? No. We all know he should have called you when the job ended, or would of. So, yes, this was most likely a scam by Crowley to get Bobby alone."

"WHAT?!"
Sam and Dean yelled in union, almost slamming the brakes, as Cas stared at them quizzically. They swirled on the road, as Dean then gained controlled and steered Baby back on the road.
"Cas- has it ever occurred to you Crowley may be out to put his soul on the line again? Or maybe kill him! That's like, our father, Cas!"
Dean yelled to him, eyes shifting between rear view mirror and the road.

Sam looked at Dean and said, "we should probably hit it, Dean, he's not picking up his phone."

---

Ring ring
Ring ring
Ring rin-

SMASH.

"Oh god, those petty human things are... Annoying."
Crowley tisked in distaste as he wiped away the extra bits of phone stuck to his knuckles, falling back into the bed, wearing a soft robe Bobby lent him that night.

"Are you talkin' about the phone or the child population?"
Bobby chuckled, and so did Crowley, as Bobby mopped back his hair.

"I have to admit, Singer, that wasn't horrible."

"For a demon."

"Touché."

Bobby then smiled again, groaned and got up from the bed, pulling on his own shirt, and loosely buckling up his jeans, walking out of the room, to cook something. He was starving.

"Only one layer? Your naughty, Bobby."
Crowley chuckled, stretching out on the creaky bed.

"Shut it ya idgit, you think I really would get fully dressed before brunch?"

Crowley pouted his lip and shrugged, he honestly couldn't argue with that.

As Crowley lazily stretched around in the bed, he looked at the other other phone ringing, and decided, 'what the hell' and picked it up.

"Bobby? Are you there?! We think-"

"Crowley could be here causing trouble? Oh yes. He's quite the ruffian."
Crowley cooed, curling the cord on the phone around his finger.

"Hey- hey!"
An extra voice from the back was heard, as the phone was taken from Sam, bickering heard, Crowley rolled his eyes annoyed as Dean answered on the phone.
"Crowley- you sick son of a bitch! If you hurt Bobby so help me-"

"Oh boys, please!"
Crowley scoffed, swallowing a lump in his throat (probably from that night) as he went on,
"I'm sure he's fine."

"Well were almost there so-"

"Alrighty then, ~I honestly don't give a fuck!~"
Crowley sang and slammed the phone back in the base, rubbing his palms in his eyes, groaning loudly.
''Those WINCHESTERS, so annoying and fucking predictable." He mumbled, and then got up, strapping the robe more correctly around his body, as he grabbed his half full scotch glass, walking down the stairs of the house to the work area across of the kitchen.

"Mornin' again, sunshine."
Bobby said, from the pan he was cooking at.
Crowley smiled lightly and walked over to him, leaning on his tippy toes to kiss his cheek, whispering in his ear,
"That's anti-matter to you~"

They chuckled lightly to each other, sort of like a hungover married couple, leaning there faces on each other's. They lightly turned there heads to kiss, lingering like it was the first time, Until Bobby jumped to hear a knock at the door.

"Oh, bloody hell-"
Crowley sneered, walking up to twist whatever was on the other side of that doors neck, until Bobby pulled him back by his shoulder.

"Hold on, now; I'm used to this."
Putting the burner a bit lower on the sizzling bacon, Bobby put in little effort to make himself look a little decent-er as he opened the door to two shot guns staring him in the face.

"Calm down, Boys."
Bobby sighed as Sam and Dean looked up at him and slowly placed down their guns.
"Oh Bobby! Thank god, your okay."
Sam smiled as Bobby gave a confused look.

"You think I couldn't handle someone like Crowley? Pfft, please."
Bobby chuckled, as Dean and Sam smiled back, Dean speaking up again.

"Where is he anyways? You looked like you either got fucked, or got fucked up."

From out of the door frame view, Dean and Sam heard giggling from a certain Scottish ass-hat, who walked in beside Bobby, leaning on the door frame, swirling his drink in his hand, the other in his robe pocket, smirking saying,
"A bit of both. How about a scotch, son?"