Title: Of Business and Benefits.
Fandom: Supernatural.
Pairing: Gabriel/Crowley.
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 3880
Spoilers: If you know Gabriel, then you're good.
Warnings: Mentions of corruption and shady deals. But come on, it's Crowley!
Feedback: Yes please.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything even remotely related to Supernatural.
Beta: mithrel. Thank you, darling!
Notes: You can all thank my partner in crime friend martiya_khvar for her constant hand holding and encouragement to write whatever my bunnies throw at me. Even absurdly rare pairings like this one. *kisses*
Summary: Human AU. Something is going wrong with all of Gabriel's dates. But luckily, his best friend Crowley is always willing to step in.
Link to this fic on LJ and on DW and on AO3.
Part 1:
It was getting ridiculous, Gabriel decided. And when Gabriel decided things were getting ridiculous, it was beyond fucked up. It had been his fifth date in as many weeks and yet again he was cockblocked by destiny. Or Murphy's Law. Or maybe the universe was just having a laugh giving him blue-balls.
Because not only did all his dates fail miserably, they all somehow managed to fail just when things were heating up. Only last night he'd been happily busy under the skirt of a gorgeous redhead when her phone rang. She was apparently waiting for an important call and of course, that particular call was the one she'd been waiting for. Something about a sister and a transplant. All Gabriel knew was that in two minutes flat she was dressed and out the door, leaving him kneeling by the couch, alone with a hard-on. If it had been just the one time, Gabriel would have shrugged and had a jerk off session with some Casa Erotica. He owned the entire DVD series and he was a gold plus member of the club. Yeah.
But last week it had been just as bad. A sweet college boy had been having his way with Gabriel, one hand firmly down his jeans when suddenly there had been a fire or some shit and all the dorms were suddenly doused in frigid water as the sprinklers turned on.
The week before that, hot mom with a rack just made for Gabriel's hands. Sitter suddenly started barfing and the date was off.
The week before that, random bar hookup. They got arrested for public indecency. All right, Gabriel could kind of see how he brought that one on himself, but still. It was awfully convenient how that cop decided to look down that particular street.
But even before then, there had been a disturbing pattern of canceled dates. Always the date canceling, never Gabriel. He was starting to wonder if he was cursed or something.
But at least he had options. There was always Crowley and their... arrangement.
Gabriel couldn't even remember when he and Crowley met. It had been during a very foggy year of college and when Gabriel emerged on the other side of countless parties and experimentations, he'd somehow gotten a best friend. He'd been so determined to try everything his parents disapproved of that he probably drank, smoked and fucked his way through half of campus before clawing his way through, dropping out and never looking back. It had been one of the most surreal moments of his life when he realized that Crowley was going to follow him.
Crowley was business-man to the bone and apparently, having a college degree was by no means a requirement for raking in the cash. Because he did. They'd hardly been out of college for a week before Crowley got his first paycheck from God knows what, but whatever it was, it paid amazingly well. Gabriel never asked Crowley if it was all legal, because frankly, he felt better not knowing. Plus, as long as Crowley kept taking him to those really awesome places that only filthy rich people go to, then he could happily ignore any signs of foul play.
Gabriel made a living mostly by his charms and various creative skills, which he applied with an enthusiasm he was told was half the allure of his work. He wasn't rich, but he did all right. And he never had any trouble hooking up, ever. Which made his current situation all the more baffling.
But Crowley was happily the kind of man who was up for pretty much anything, if you made it worth his while. And say what you will, Gabriel always made sure his bed partners had one hell of a good time. So even though it was the third booty call in a very short time, all Crowley said was “Be there in five.” Five and a half minutes later they were naked and Gabriel thanked some higher power for Crowley, being just as eager as he was for the benefits part of their flexible friendship.
Much later, when they were sitting in bed watching TV, Crowley apparently got sentimental. “Do you remember when we met?” he asked, taking a deep drag of his post-sex cigarette. He only ever smoked after sex, as far as Gabriel knew, and he was fine with it. Crowley never complained about Gabriel's post-sex munchies after all, no matter how much mess he made.
“Honestly? No. I was probably drunk. Or high. Or both.” He threw a few more M&Ms into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “Tell me about it.”
Crowley seemed to consider it for a moment before wincing slightly, as if it was an unpleasant memory. “It was a frat party. I'd been promised some really good scotch, but when I arrived, most of it was already gone, thanks to you. You mutilated that poor bottle of liquor. I was scarred for life.”
“Aw, come on, it can't have been that bad-”
“You were using it as drinks mixer,” Crowley interrupted. “You were mixing it with root beer!”
Gabriel clenched his teeth. Crowley had a very special relationship with good scotch and Gabriel had on several occasions been educated on how much you did not want to get between Crowley and his treasured drink.
“Ah. I suppose you kicked my ass, then?”
Crowley smirked. “I was going to. But then you whipped out your big, hot... credit card, and bought me an even better bottle.”
Gabriel snickered. “Oh, that weekend. I only remember it because of the credit card bill. That card was meant for books and emergencies. For some strange reason, dad didn't seem to think late night booze runs were emergencies.”
“I'll bet,” Crowley snorted. “Sadly, though, you did the same thing the next night, so of course I had to take it upon myself to educate you on the proper use of scotch.”
“And thus an epic friendship was born!” Gabriel announced with a flourish.
Crowley lazily made a smoke ring and poked a finger through it lewdly. “And the sex was fantastic.”
“Amen,” Gabriel agreed.
Part 2:
Weirdly, as eager as Crowley always seemed to be when Gabriel called for some urgent nookie, he almost never requested any himself. Gabriel's personal theory was that Crowley got all the tail he could possibly want. After all, he practically reeked of money, which was just about the best aphrodisiac known to man, and he was by no means unattractive either. He could probably pick up dates by the dozen, by virtue of his husky voice alone. But try as he might, Gabriel could never remember Crowley ever having gone on a single date, or even brought anyone other than Gabriel himself anywhere as a plus one.
Not that it mattered. Gabriel had had more than enough of the heteronormative bullshit from well-meaning family and friends expecting him to find a steady girlfriend/job/hobby/anything. He was the last person to expect Crowley to fit into any sort of box. Besides, Crowley was much more likely to buy the box and redecorate it than try and fit into it.
So the bottom line was that in the greater scheme of things, Gabriel never really thought too hard about his friend's love life. Especially since his own was being so epically challenging. Two more dates came around and went away prematurely, before he suddenly got the first hint as to why.
The redhead called him. The one whose skirt he'd been spelunking under a few weeks earlier. The one with the sister and the transplant. Okay, so maybe he had to wring his brain really hard to come up with her name, but he wasn't a complete dick, thank you very much.
His brain screeched to a dead stop, though, when she thanked him.
“Come again?” he said into the phone.
“Don't play all coy, I know it was you,” she chirped. He could practically hear her smiling.
Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose and wished he could just snap his fingers and magic himself a stiff drink.
“Uhm... look... I'm a little... confused here. Could you do me a favor and pretend you're talking to someone who knows jack squat about this?”
The pause on the other end of the line was significant, but then the sense of a smile was back and she started carefully, as if they were talking about something mildly naughty. “Well... you remember I told you about my sister Christy? She was on the waiting list for a new liver, but she was like... way down. Even if donors started flooding in, she wouldn't have gotten a new one for months.”
Gabriel frowned. Something was niggling at his brain.
“But then, on the night of our date, the doctor called and told me they had a liver for her. I thought there was some mistake, but when we got there, it was all true. She came home from the hospital yesterday.”
“That's great,” Gabriel offered weakly, because he felt that was the safest thing to say at the moment. He was still confused, though.
“Yeah, it really is,” Redhead continued. “She kept telling me not to look gift horses in the mouth, but I was so sure that it wasn't just some cosmic paperwork fuck-up. So I went snooping around and finally this morning I found out that someone had paid a substantial amount of money to have Christy put at the top of the list. As horrible as it is, I can't help but be eternally grateful to whoever made it happen.”
Gabriel felt a little chill make its way up his spine. “Understandable. I'm... happy for you and your sis.”
“Thank you,” she replied, with a lot more warmth than Gabriel felt the sentiment warranted. “Look, it's okay if you don't want me to drag this out into the light, I get it. It could get you in a lot of trouble. I just wanted to thank you for making it happen. Me and Christy don't know anyone else who could possibly have done this, so it can only have been you. So I'll say it again: Thank you.”
Gabriel was frankly too shocked to come up with anything to say to that, so he ended the call with some random well-wishing and hung up, hardly aware of what he'd said.
No matter how loosely Gabriel chose to interpret social norms and rules occasionally, he had pretty high moral standards. A minor felony here and there never hurt anyone, as far as he was concerned, but he would never do anything to jeopardize another human being. Why Miss. Redhead would think he would was mildly disturbing, but what bothered him more was the sudden suspicion that something bigger was going on here.
On a whim he dug out the number of the hot mom. She was understandably confused when he asked her almost five weeks after the fact what had ailed her poor sitter, but she willingly informed him that the standing theory was some bad Chinese food.
Further investigation revealed that the cop who had arrested Gabriel for public indecency had responded to an anonymous tip to look down that street. And lo and behold, there hadn't actually been a fire at the college dorm where he'd gotten the worst shower of his life. Someone had rigged the sprinklers.
Gabriel might not have Crowley's money or connections, but he had bucketloads of charisma and so he turned his charm up to max and went on the hunt for more information. To his amusement, his information hunt yielded the unexpected bonus of two impulsive - and frankly hot as hell - hook-ups so he was in a fairly good mood when he finally pieced everything together. Good thing, because if he hadn't been so content, he might just have revised his policy of doing no harm.
He was very tempted to kill Crowley.
Part 3:
Crowley didn't have an office. Apparently, whatever business he was in wasn't the kind with office hours. Instead, he spent an awful lot of time on the phone or on his ridiculously expensive laptop. Happily, he was also a great fan of froofy coffees and what he liked to call ambience so Gabriel knew where to look for him. The third upscale café Gabriel checked out paid off. He would have called, but he didn't trust himself to not just shout abuse over the phone, and something this severe warranted a face to face. Crowley was just putting on his coat when Gabriel stomped in. “Ah, hello, darling. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Gabriel didn't even try to hide how furious he was. “We need to talk. Somewhere private. Now.”
Wisely, Crowley decided not to argue. Instead, he led Gabriel to his car and since they were closer to Gabriel's apartment, Crowley went there. As soon as they made it inside, Gabriel slammed the door behind them with enough force to make a small painting fall off the wall next to it.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” he exploded.
Crowley searched Gabriel's face for a moment before shrugging. “A great many things, I would imagine. But I'm afraid I don't quite follow you.”
Gabriel tramped back and forth and waved his arms in agitation. “Seriously?! Oh, I can understand the appeal of a good prank. Let's cockblock Gabe a few times, haha, very funny. But actually putting people's lives at risk just to make me lose face?! That's whole new levels of disturbing, even for you, Crowley.”
“Ah. That,” Crowley said simply.
“Yes, that,” Gabriel agreed. “Do you actually have anything to say for yourself or should I assume you've gone completely dark side?”
Crowley's face darkened. “First of all, don't come here claiming you ever thought that I was pure as driven snow. You know me and even if you don't want to look too closely at it, deep down, you know how I make a living.”
Gabriel shifted guiltily. He couldn't quite argue with that.
“And secondly,” Crowley continued, “I didn't do it just for kicks. When have you ever known me to do anything just for a laugh? That's your department.”
“True enough,” Gabriel conceded. “But what could possibly make you do something like that? I know you walk the line a lot, but I never thought you'd be this callous with human life. So why, Crowley?”
Crowley sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Because... I'm addicted, all right?”
Gabriel's face fell. Whatever he'd thought Crowley was gonna say, this wasn't it. “Addicted? To what!?”
“To you, you moron!” Crowley barked. “I don't think you realize just how unique you are. You have this shine, this... light, that draws people in like fireflies. As long as they're are careful, they don't get sucked in, but idiots like me keep coming back, until one day I'm hooked.”
“Crowley, what the-”
“Shut up!” Crowley snapped and Gabriel wisely followed the order. “You have no idea, do you? Remember when you wanted me to tell you how we met? Well that wasn't the whole story. I could have forgiven you the horrid fate of bottle after bottle of excellent scotch just for being you, but that first night you apparently decided that I was too uptight and took me to bed. You were drunk and tripping your arse off, and still it was without comparison the best sex of my entire life. And here's the best part. The next day, you didn't even remember meeting me. So I got to do it all over again. And again the next night. And the night after that.”
“I didn't know-” Gabriel began, but again Crowley cut him off.
“Of course you didn't, because I made a point of never telling you.”
“Why the hell not?!”
By then, Crowley was the one pacing. “Because I'm not a monogamous kind of person. I have my fun and then I move on. That's just my nature. Trying to take things further with you and I wouldn't do either of us any favors. That's why I never made a habit of calling you for a tumble if I could at all avoid it. If I got started, I would never be able to stop again. What I didn't count on was that this ridiculous infatuation refused to pass. On the contrary, the more I try to keep away, the more it gnaws at my gut.”
Gabriel chewed the inside of his cheek while turning the words over in his head. “So what you're saying is that you don't wanna be with me, but you don't want anyone else to either, is that it?”
“No, you half-wit!” Crowley yelled. “I do want to be with you, but I don't think I even know how! If there was a Hallmark card that said: I wanna bugger you every day for the rest of eternity, but I don't want the white picket fence, I would have sent you that one! But it doesn't exist. Trust me, I checked!”
Smirking half against his will, Gabriel stood for a long time in the middle of his living room, just watching Crowley pull his hair out by the roots. “This is so fucked up it's not even funny,” he grumbled.
Gabriel finally got his wits together and stopped Crowley's frantic pacing by stepping in front of him.
“Right, my turn. First of all, what ever made you think I even want the damn picket fence shit? I grew up in a goddamn ad for the nuclear family and it was nothing but pure misery. Why do you think I was getting high on an hourly basis when we met? Because the alternative was unbearable. It was only when I realized that I actually had the choice to live differently that I could face every day without wanting to jump off a bridge!”
Crowley was unusually quiet, but that suited Gabriel just fine. He was finally starting to make sense of things.
“Besides, I know that lately I've been more inclined to ask for sex than conversation, but damn it, you could have talked to me! There was no need to go plotting the downfall of all my dates. I'm a reasonable guy!”
“And what, pray tell, was I supposed to say?” Crowley snarked. “Somehow I don't think it would have gone over all that well if I'd gone up to you and said: hey, old college buddy, could you please stop sleeping with all these sexy people, because it's hurting my pathetic feelings?”
Gabriel rubbed his forehead with obvious frustration. “Damn it, I know you're not that dumb.”
Crowley sighed heavily and turned his back. “Maybe I just didn't want to risk what we had.”
“What we have, Crowley,” Gabriel said quietly, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. “You've been a complete prick, but you haven't ruined anything.”
Hesitantly, Crowley turned back to face Gabriel. “So. Where does that leave us now?”
For a few long moments, Gabriel simply looked Crowley in the eye. Ideally, he would have taken some time to think things over, but the whole thing was already pushing the limits of their relationship and Gabriel was half convinced that if he let Crowley walk out the door, then he would never come back. Even after years of knowing each other fairly intimately, Crowley was never much one for sharing and caring, not even with Gabriel. He usually preferred to let his actions or his money speak for him.
And suddenly Gabriel realized that that was exactly what had been going on. Being just as emotionally screwed up as himself, although perhaps in different ways, Crowley hadn't had the slightest idea how to even approach the idea of asking for more. So instead, he'd turned to the tried and tested method of showing rather than telling. As moronic as it was, Gabriel was actually deeply flattered.
But that left the problem of what to do next. There was no question of which direction to go. Gabriel knew even before he realized what was going on that he would forgive Crowley for whatever he did. It had been a long time since he'd been able to do without his snarky company. So forwards they would go. Somehow. In a perfect world, Gabriel would simply drag Crowley to the bedroom and magically fuck all their issues away. Not that he wouldn't give it his best shot later, but for now, steps needed to be taken. Happily, Gabriel had always been fantastically good at winging it.
“Right!” he said, clapping his hands together, “time to make a deal. You'll love this, Crowles, it's right up your alley!” The only reply was a raised eyebrow, so Gabriel hurried on. “We shall conduct this like any business transaction. I have something you want and to get it, you will have to pay the proper fee.”
“What, so now you're a whore?” Crowley asked acidly.
Gabriel smirked. “Only for candy bars and fun times. Now pay attention. Am I right in assuming that what you're in the market for is an exclusive sexual relationship with yours truly?”
Crowley rolled his eyes, but apparently decided to play along. “Yes, pretty much.”
“Awesome. So, here's my proposal. I step out of the dating game and you get free access to me and my services. In return, I get to tell people that we're together and I must also insist on the occasional cuddle and/or hand holding.”
“That's it?” Crowley asked suspiciously.
“No. I'm afraid I'll also have to demand that you put an immediate stop to any activities of yours that could prove potentially harmful to other people.” Crowley was about to object, but Gabriel glared and stopped him with a stern finger in front of his face. “Don't even start! You're richer than God. Scaling back a little won't even make a dent in your wallet.”
Crowley was silent, but after only a moment of tightened lips he nodded curtly.
“And there you have it!” Gabriel announced happily.
“Seriously?” Crowley asked, as if it sounded ridiculous. “It can't be that easy.”
Gabriel stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets and bounced on the balls of his feet. “Sure it can. At least for now. We can always edit the contract as we go along. But this is a good place to start, wouldn't you say?”
Rubbing the back of his neck, Crowley looked uncharacteristically unsure, but eventually he straightened up and held out his hand. “It would seem we have ourselves a deal, good sir.”
Gabriel took the hand and then pulled it hard, bringing Crowley in for a kiss. Now that's how you seal a deal!
End.