waywarddone | 'cause it makes me feel like a man when I put a spike into my vein

He was crying? Great. The humiliations never ended and not the fun, kinky kind of humiliation he liked either. With a sigh, he raised his hand and wiped away the tears hastily, trying his best to hide what was so very obvious. "So that's it, is it? You want the big guns. Of course." The angel tablet was split into three pieces and the last bit was a small bit that he purposefully kept hidden. The part that could restore the angels.

Of course, he wasn't exactly eager to give that away. It was his only bargaining chip. As tempting as the offer was, he tried to be rational and keep his head in the game. "I give that up, you lot kill me. I'm not a moron. You got to offer me more than that."

"I ain't interested in you dyin'. That gets me nothin'." Obviously. Bobby was as calculating as Aleister when it came down to it, only he tried to calculate for good. Or for the closest he could get to it, anyway. "You're worth more existin' than you'd ever be worth gone."

That was some heartfelt sentiment right there. "Besides, darlin', I'd miss our chats."

He was still trying to own the flirting. He was fairly sure it wasn't working, but whatever. "That's my offer as it stands. What else would you want?"

"I know you won't kill me. Give it half a second and Moose will. You're not the loose canon I need fodder against." Aleister pointed out and he wasn't sure he could rely on the word of Bobby to save his ass. Then again, maybe if he shot up enough blood, he'd feel less bothered by all of this. He'd be so internal that the external wouldn't matter.

After all, what did any of it matter? He had no way out of here, he was losing his grip of his throne and he was bored off his tits.

At least if he got to go out, he stood a chance of escaping. "Blood first, then the tablet. I'll sign a contract, I'll hex myself if you don't trust me, but I want what's mine before we do the trade."

"Your word ain't worth a lot to me. Your contracts ain't all that either. So how about you sign a contract I've drawn up instead?" Bobby pulled out the contract he had prepared. It had taken him a while and had, admittedly, been done partially with Sam sending it back with parts translated to legalese.

Point was, he wanted this airtight. "I'm not lettin' you screw me over again. Time for me to nail you down."

That said he set the contract down in front of Aleister, waiting for him to read it. "Make sure to check the fine print, darlin'."

"Oh, this is so hot."

Aleister wasn't going to lie, he waggled his eyebrows and then pulled it forward. He wasn't an idiot like Not-Moose, he actually read his contracts. He went through every aspect, right down into the fine print, double checking each clause and making sure he had a little bit of wiggle room. Not much but a bit. "Nice, well written, I'll agree to almost everything. Not this."

He circled the part that said he'd promise to fetch the tablet. Too simple. "To the best of my abilities. What if I've been robbed? What if it's in heaven? I can't go there. Let's open that up so I don't get blasted my holy energy but otherwise, I agree. To the best of my abilities. The actual best."

"Ain't no one getting into heaven right now, doubt the tablet's made it there. But fair enough." Bobby turned the paper around to make the amendment, then presented it to Aleister again. This time he pushed the pen into his hand. "Now you better sign that and then you deliver. I ain't gonna play gentle with you any longer."

It was time to get tough. They had a world to save. And Heaven as well, as it was turning out.

"I sign, blood first, tablet after. It won't be easy to get but I'll show you. You. Not them." He was not going to go anywhere as long as Moose wanted to stab him. And it was hard to get time with Matty, his brother was often looming. Joined at the hip as they were. "You can manhandle me all you fancy, pet. I'm not going to protest."

He would but it was fun to play coy. Safer too. He looked at the contract, double checked it once more and then signed it.

"The boys are busy elsewhere. I can handle you all by myself." He preferred that, honestly, between whatever was going on with Matty and, yeah, the rather hard to ignore murderous rage Sam seemed to extend to all demons. Not that he could blame him. As always, his boys were dealing with a lot.

Bobby took the contract and got up so he could set it aside. He also got the syringe ready and then returned to the table, rolling up his sleeve. As he tightened his hand into a fist, he searched for the right vein and put the needle in. Drawing blood was easy after that and when he pulled the needle out, some dropped onto the table. He ignored it, looking at Aleister instead.

"I'll inject it myself."

"Sure, as you wish." He hadn't expected Bobby to do it for him but he accepted it with his arm held out, not overthinking how intimidate it almost felt. It was as close to romance as someone like him could get. He wasn't sure if it would be different than Sam's, maybe it would be. Maybe it wouldn't be as good, might be a weaker experience. Might be a better vintage because of the years. Hard to say.

He watched the needle go into his skin, not able to look at Bobby while he did it. It wasn't exactly something he was proud of right now.

"Nah, that's not the way." Bobby grabbed Aleister's hair and made him turn his head, trying to maintain eye contact. "What you're chasin' is the humanity. Can't halfass that."

With that he injected him, aware of how his heart was beating faster. Blood magic was strong even unintentionally. Bobby had to wonder just how much of a connection could potentially be forged like that. Not worth thinking about right now. "How's it feel to feel?"

Well, wasn't this just a treat? He wasn't usually a big fan of humiliation and degrading but there was something in the way Bobby did it that just hit all the right buttons. Looking into his eyes, he managed to keep eye contact until it was all in his veins, then his eyes rolled back as it all came at him suddenly.

Oh fuck. He shuddered and felt the weird, unpleasant warmth of feelings. The way his heart beat increased, the way he felt sick in that same way and God, the feelings. They were like tendrils, they latched onto his insides and filled every part of him with something so alive. At the question, he had to laugh. How did it feel? "I used to do opioids as a man. It's not that different."

"Yeah, I can imagine. That's how I know I'm still alive and kickin'. When it hurts this bad." As he was still holding Aleister's hair, Bobby released it and for whatever reason patted the demon's shoulder instead. Then he pulled his hand back and moved away so he could get the keys. "Let's get the tablet piece."

Something was definitely happening. He shook himself a little as he clutched the keys. That had been more intense than he'd expected. That was the bullshit with feelings. Hard for them to go just one way.

"Uh. Oh. Sure." Aleister was a little out of it, he nodded his head absently and then tilted his head so Bobby could unlock the stupid thing around his neck. All he wanted to do was go to some nice hotel somewhere, order room service, watch Saving Private Ryan and really delve deep into whatever was currently overtaking his mind. Unfortunately, he was being prompted to stand.

Urgh, annoying. "We'll go straight there, I just need to focus on where I'm going." And then hopefully he could teleport them and it would just fucking be there. He had no idea, those traitors were raiding every place he had for safe keepings.

"Then focus up, darlin'. I've got a world to save." Whether he'd manage to do much good here was debatable, but might as well at least try to think of himself as fighting for the good of the world here.

By steadying a demon after freeing him from the table and helping him onto his feet. He looked down to make sure Aleister wasn't swaying too much and... "You got hard from that? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"... I'm sorry, you're judging me?!" Aleister looked at Bobby with disbelief and then threw his arms out, trying to understand this. "You're all forceful and making me take what you can give, hand in my hair, making me make beautiful eye contact and I'm the one who is out of sorts here? Honestly, darling, it's worse than you're not hard." He was not the weird one here. He was right on the money. What the fuck was up with Bobby.

"Look, you want to be all forceful and demanding, you get what comes with it. This is basically foreplay." The contract, the eye contact, the blood. It was romance. "You get me?"

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Apparently, I'm gettin' you." Because he couldn't even disagree with the horny demon here, which was worrisome in a number of ways and also... Well, it was making him feel things that he would rather push down on.

For now he focused on using a pair of handcuffs to connect their wrists together, knowing that he was likely just feeding into something. "I'll open the warding for now. You sure you can get us right there?"

"A promise is a promise. And we seem to be making all kinds of those tonight. We just aren't always voicing them." With a smirk, he tugged the handcuffs playfully and waited for Bobby to open the warding. Once he was out of it, he felt a surge of beautiful freedom and his knees felt almost weak. That could also be because he was sitting in a chair all the time and half-high on human blood but whatever. He didn't want to focus on that.

Instead, he clicked and they were standing in an open graveyard, surrounded by trees and shrubs. There was some lovely fresh air - God, he had missed it.

"Aw. You take me to the nicest places, darlin'." Bobby looked around, suspicious as he always was. Ready for a fight, as he also always was. Being a paranoid bastard wasn't something that stopped, especially not when you had a demon by your side. "You bury it?"

That seemed like the most logical assumption. A lot easier than when they had to try and follow Wes's logic to find that other piece. Damn prophet.

He turned his head to get a better idea of where they were. "Doesn't seem like demons have been here recently." He had a feeling for those things.

"No, that would be stupid and easy to find. I didn't just bury it. Remove the lid, it's inside of Jennifer Kitchen. And yes, that is her real name. You might say, I stashed it in the kitchen." Well, Aleister found that funny, even if Bobby didn't. He walked over to the nearest bench and sat down, gesturing at the grave Bobby would need.

God, he buried it inside of someone. Someone who got to live a full life with a husband and kids, apparently. She was still doing better than he was. God, why did he feel bad for doing that? He even felt bad for making Bobby handle all the dirty work.

"It's a shallow grave, if it helps..."

"Ain't even the worst thing I've done today. Don't sweat it." Why was he feeling sympathetic towards a demon? Bobby tried not to analyse that more than necessary. He grabbed the shovel and started digging, obviously showing a lot of experience there.

"Do you remember the first grave you've dug?" He wondered. Had Aleister even done that? Maybe normal people went through their human lives not digging any graves. Bobby had always found it difficult to relate to people. "Mine was my father's."

"I never really dug a grave. Other people did it for me. Lots of people died in my life but it was 17th century. I never really cared. Most the kids in the workhouse bit it by winter. I watched them get buried. Out back, not really a grave, more like a pit. You toss a couple in and cover it up. Keep on going. Is that the same?" That was his first experience with death, he had honestly expected to die too but he was a survivor. For better or worse, he seemed to have a knack for it. "Never dug my dad's grave. Didn't know him."

He certainly wouldn't have raised a shovel for the neglectful bastard. Aleister leaned back on the bench, watching Bobby work. "Your family is all shades of wrong. What was it? 1950s? You wouldn't think it was that far from my time."

"1950s down where I'm from, really wasn't far from your time." Bobby had no delusions about that. "Although that's rough. Pit like that. Never had that." Of course anyone would grow numb to it all under those circumstances. Bobby got it. "Think most families are messed up though. Maybe mine was a bit more broken."

The kind of mess that almost seemed doomed to happen around them. Bobby finally freed the coffin and then opened it up, turning his head aside to avoid the first wave of death coming out. "Ugh. Really?"

"Pits were normal. Efficient. I remember asking the grave digger why and he told me it was always smart to minimise cost and maximise production in any way possible. I liked that guy. I met him in hell, he was one hell of a demon." Of course, he obliterated him for even so much as knowing him before he was king but he had to admit, he owed the guy a lot. He lived by those words, especially in hell. "I think if we all had good families, we wouldn't be where we are right now."

People with good families and normal lives were in a graveyard, digging up corpses and cutting into them. "People always check coffins, you have to be creative. I put it in the stomach."

"Course you did, you old charmer." That, through gritted teeth, was the last thing Bobby said for a while. During the unpleasant task he was too focused on not breathing in more than necessary to keep the small talk going.

Finally he climbed back out of the grave, tablet in his pocket and coffin closed again. He started putting the dirt back in, still not sure what to say. Tonight had turned intense in ways he hadn't anticipated. Much more emotional than he'd have expected. "You're keeping your deal. Always heard you do that."

Only he had gotten screwed last time.

"I don't go back on my deals. Except when handsome men won't let me keep their soul on loan for a few while I work out what I'm doing." He had intended to give Bobby his soul back. Eventually. When he was done playing with it. He kept it safe, it was returned it excellent condition, better than when he got it. He just needed some insurance without any sure footing and... he liked him. "You thanked me. I liked it."

He had never been thanked so earnestly. It was such a weird thing. Such a small slither of affection but it was the only he had ... likely ever had. "No one has ever given me gratitude. Fair enough, I don't earn it. Even so, it was nice. I wasn't... ready. To give you up."

He huffed a small laugh and raised his hand, rubbing at his face. Shit, why was he tired? Since when did he get so tired? "You can't bottle a feeling, I suppose. You can bottle a soul."

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