Astronaut4: Trust issues

Crowley leaned into the angel's touch, observing him carefully. Then he smiled, nodding. "That sounds like my idea of a good time. Getting taken care of by you", he murmured, absently caressing Hanakael's chest.

Dean stared into Castiel's blue, sincere eyes. He saw his determination. And finally, he sighed. "Together, then", he answered, standing up to gently cup the angel's cheeks, resting his forehead against the other's.

Crowley hummed, even if honestly speaking he was definitely feeling lazy. "Yes. The water is getting unpleasant", he observed as he got up and stepped out of the bathtub, carefully, in order not to step on Hanakael. He seemed to have a better hold of himself, now that he had calmed down a bit.

Dean kissed him back gently, softly rubbing his thumb against Castiel's stubbly cheek. His fears were far from gone, but knowing he could count not only on Sam, but also on his soulmate to get through it comforted him a bit.

Crowley was eagerly awaiting for that moment himself. He had proposed Hanakael to stay in the motel, however (after taking the necessary precautions, seals and banishing spells of any sort). It was far too dangerous for them to do that in his mansion, or even in Hell. He took the blade from the angel's hands and with practiced ease he opened a cut on the palm of his hand, letting his blood mix with all the other ingredients in the bowl.

Crowley accepted the bow, downing some of the liquid himself. He made a face. He would have said he had drank worse, but it would have honestly been a lie. He put the bowl back down, feeling his own heart thundering loudly in his chest.

Crowley complied, hands resting on Hanakael's shoulders as he kissed him back. He lost himself in that moment that seemed to last hours, and he could swear he felt the exact moment in which part of his damned soul climbed up his throat to slip into the angel's mouth, entwining itself with his grace. He felt... so good, so, so good he couldn't even begin to describe it. That's it, until he heard the cry of pain that left his soulmate's lips. He blinked, sincerely startled, finding it difficult to climb down his high. "Hana?", he asked, worried.

Saying that Crowley was alarmed would have been the understatement of the century. He grasped Hanakael by the shoulder, holding him upright with one hand to steady him while he quickly pushed the bowl aside. He didn't even care if it fell on the ground, at that point. He made space, so he could lay the angel down on the bed. "Hana, can you answer me?"

Crowley really, really wanted to start panicking right then. But he couldn't. He needed to stay cool. He needed to think. He ran a hand through his hair, breathing deeply, his brain working fast. Think, Crowley think! He took another breath, then tried to check Hanakael's vital signs. They seemed to be alright... the heart was beating, the lungs were working. His grace was there... tainted, sure, but it was still there, so he was still there - what was going on?!

Crowley's sigh of relief (yeah, a demon saying "Thank God" was honestly kind of hilarious to witness. Not to say blasphemous) was short lived. It just died as soon as he saw those fully red eyes. He blinked, observing them as if he was mesmerized by the sight. "... a couple of minutes", he finally answered. "You should... probably look at yourself in a mirror", he added.

Crowley frowned. "Your eyes", he said, with a bit of hesitation in his voice. "They are red." Then he tried to concentrate on himself a bit. "I... actually feel good. And I mean really, really good. Better than I've ever been." And it was true. A bit worrying, but true. "How do you feel, though? I mean, your eyes, and you passed out cold in my arms for a while."

Crowley seemed to think about the angel's words for a bit. "Our essences mixed", he simply observed in the end. "And mine isn't just a regular human soul. Maybe its corruption brought some kind of changes to your grace, and that's why you feel like this." He let out a slight sigh of relief, seeing Hanakael's eyes revert to normal again. Then he followed his gaze and smiled, observing their thread, which seemed to thrum with strengthened vigour. "We are one now."

Both Eileen and Dean seemed to notice that sudden gesture. Eileen limited herself in laying a hand over Castiel's arm, a questioning expression on her face. Dean frowned, looking worried. "Cas?", he asked, unsure. "What's wrong?"

Crowley kissed him back. "Well, are there any particular check-ups you winged boys do? Is there a doctor with a PHD in artificial modifications of angelic Grace?", he joked, a smirk on his lips. "Maybe particular... visits I can do myself?", he added, bending to kiss Hanakael's throat.

Dean slowly put down his fork. His frowning, horrified expression didn't need any words. "Hanakael strengthened his bond with Crowley", he said flatly. "I don't know what you or the rest of Heaven think about the new happy couple, but this is not good news. For anyone." He spoke clearly, so that Eileen could read his lips. And she was frowning too. "What could happen now?", she asked, gesturing.

Crowley sat up a bit, shifting a bit. "Show me", he simply told Hanakael. He wasn't sure how much his blurred perception of angel wings could help, but he was willing to give it a try.

Dean grunted, pinching the bridge of his nose, his face all scrounged up, seemingly in pain. "Great. So we have two de-potentiated Lucifers around. One of which is fucking Crowley, King of bitches." He felt the mighty need to break something right now. Why were their lives like that? Out a problem, in a bigger one? Damn it! Eileen nidded to Sam. "We can't know about the omens. Since angelic grace is involved, it might not work like demons do. But still it's... worrying."