Trial and Error

Bobby rubbed his fingers in circles against his temples and let out a long sigh. Rufus had called a few minutes ago babbling about how he needed to borrow some money from Bobby to pay off "An old friend. What? No, his name isn't important Bobby." Of course Bobby said he'd do his best to scrounge up some money that he honestly didn't have. After all that had happened in Omaha he couldn't really deny the guy a favor. But getting "Only a few hundred Bob. Eight hundred tops," wasn't the easiest thing to get done right now. On top of that he'd promised his neighbor Marcy that he would come take a look at her wood chipper.

He was leaning against the edge of his desk, thinking about when he might have some time to actually go help the poor woman when Sam walked in looking distressed.

Bobby opened his mouth to ask what was wrong but stopped when Sam shook his head and slumped down into his seat. Bobby walked over and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Troubles boy?" Sam looked up to Bobby with glazed over eyes and nodded slowly. "Wanna, erm... Talk?" Bobby loved Sam, he was basically his surrogate father being so close with his father. Talking about feelings wasn't one of Bobby's strong suits, but it wasn't one of Sam's brother Dean's either, so he had to try. Sam shrugged and Bobby tightened his grip on his shoulder. "Maybe later then."

They occupied the room in silence for a few minutes until the bell rang, ending lunch. Bobby grumbled a few curses as he cleaned up his desk a bit to get ready for the students that were already starting to pile in.

Sam showed no sign of life, just sitting there with his arms crossed and shoulders slouched. But Bobby noticed when Sam twitched and sat up a little taller when Gabriel walked in and settled down on the seat to his left. *Ah, so maybe that's what's going on* he thought.

The last bell was about to ring when at the last possible moment Crowley sauntered in. Bobby wondered how he could always look so confident and elegant walking along teenagers who looked like they had literally just rolled out of bed. He watched as the young Englishman strolled to his seat next to Gabriel.

Crowley lounged in his seat and looked over to where Bobby was unconsciously staring. He caught Bobby's eye, smirked and winked. Bobby quickly looked down, ignoring Crowley's small sigh of disappointment when he walked to the other side of the classroom and began his teaching.

"Alright, so it's gonna be a movie day," he waited for the low cheering to soften before adding, "It'll take up the period and if you're quiet, today'll be fine." He could already see a few students taking this as their cue to doze off or talk or blatantly fall asleep, so he finished off by saying, "Now if you'll just take out a pen. We're gonna take some notes on it," rumbled Bobby. The class collectively groaned. "Oh suck it up. We don't do it often so just bear with me." He sat back on his desk while his students rummaged through their bags.

Crowley gracefully pulled out a smooth black pen from his breast pocket and Gabriel slid him a piece of paper, although Gabriel didn't even so much as glance at him. He was much too busy staring at Sam, who was making an art of ignoring him.

After Rufus's call at lunch Bobby was in need of some relaxing. Thankfully he had thought ahead earlier and had brought in an old movie having something to do with his subject, just enough so Zachariah wouldn't have his ass. He put on the movie and leant against the wall on the far right side of the classroom near the door. He half-heartedly kept watch on the teenagers, making sure none were texting or anything and actually taking notes. He scanned each row tuning out the whispers it'd be easier to ignore. He'd scanned all the but first row, where Sam, Gabriel, and of course Crowley were sitting. He took in Sam's blank stare and Gabriel's silent look of desperation thrown in Sam's direction. He chuckled to himself softly. That boy really needed to just figure things out and get on with it already.

Then he made made the mistake of looking over to Crowley, who had his sleek pen resting against his lips while absentmindedly running his long fingers along it in a way that was downright pornographic. And if that wasn't enough, he chose that moment to wet his lips, dragging his tongue delicately across the tip of his pen. Bobby coughed and blinked.

Crowley must have had an acute sensitivity to Bobby's tension, because he turned his head, looked him in the eye and smirked. He made a circular motion with his slender fingers and pointed to the clock and then back and forth between the two of them which Bobby, to his best ability translated into him wanting to talk after class.

The teacher's cheeks and neck were flushed but he nonchalantly shrugged, signifying that he was welcome (grudgingly) to stay after. It was Bobby's break period so that wasn't a problem. He wondered if Crowley had known it was his break period or was just hoping to exchange a few words before the next period. He shook his head, Crowley most likely wouldn't bother looking up his schedule, would he?

The movie played on and after a few more scenes (which he was sure the majority of his students didn't watch) the bell rang. He rolled his eyes and huffed under his breath. There was absolutely no reason to be nervous. Crowley probably just wanted to talk about extra credit. Although he was acing the class. Crap.

The students seemed more than happy to leave the small room, which was still dark from watching the movie. He figured he should turn the light on because a student was staying to talk, but Crowley actually seemed more comfortable in the shadows, and Bobby was perfectly fine without the bright, florescent lights.

Bobby waited for the classroom to be empty, save for Crowley, and walked over to his large wooden desk and sat down in his old wooden chair.

Crowley walked over to stand before him and quirked an eyebrow. Bobby waited patiently for whatever he had to say. "You seemed rather agitated today," Crowley paused dramatically, "Anything I could do to help with your mood Robert?"

"Call me Bobby. And my mood isn't exactly your problem is it?"

"Good point Robert," Crowley shrugged and pulled out a long, dark cigarette and placed in delicately between his lips, preparing to light it.

"You can't smoke that in here boy," Bobby pointed out.

"Then I suppose you should walk with me darling," Crowley said smoothly, smirking as always. He slowly made his way to the door leading to the parking lot outside. Bobby figured he had might as well go with him, just to make sure he didn't go off and get himself in any trouble.

They walked outside and after a short debate decided to talk by the bleachers so Crowley wouldn't get caught smoking on campus and Bobby wouldn't get caught letting Crowley smoke on campus. For a moment or two they sat on the bleachers, just watching a stray cat prowl about.

"You sure you should be smokin' that?" asked Bobby warily.

"Don't worry Robert. I'm perfectly legal," he paused meaningfully and then continued, "I turned nineteen last spring."

Bobby tried to ignore the creeping blush working it's way up his neck as Crowley's innuendo sunk in. "Yeah, right. Um.."

"So, care to tell me why you were so distressed today? I swear I don't bite," Crowley asked calmly, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

"I couldn't bother you with any of my problems boy," Bobby grumbled.

"How about if I promise to bother you with some of mine sometime?" Crowley's voice was like a snake, sensual and wrapping itself around Bobby and metaphorically pulling him closer with every word, which Bobby tried to not let show.

"Erm, I owe an old friend of mine a favor, and he called to get it," he mumbled, not actually caring if Crowley heard or not. It would probably be less embarrassing if he didn't care, or wasn't listening. But apparently Crowley was.

"Well, I'm on the edge of my bloody seat here Robert. Go on,"

"He needs to borrow some money I don't have," replied Bobby grudgingly.

"Alright."

"Alright?"

"And you agreed to pay him?"

"Of course. I owe the guy," Bobby answered.

"And you can't afford it?" The right corner of Crowley's lips lifted slightly.

"Well, I could maybe scrape something together and-" Crowley cut him off.

"I'll pay."

"What?" Bobby sat there in stunned silence.

"I'll pay. In case you haven't noticed, I'm quite well off. And I have a fondness toward you Robert," said Crowley slyly.

"I couldn't let you do that. You're my student," replied Bobby dubiously.

"I honestly thought you'd say that to a completely unrelated offer from me, but I have to insist nonetheless."

Bobby stared at Crowley for much longer than strictly necessary. He let the suggestion fly right over him as he suspiciously watched the Englishman. He was a fraction from glaring as he pulled his eyebrows together. "What's your angle boy?"

"Just a small deal Robert. I'm not asking you to sell your soul," Crowley smiled, as if amused by the thought.

"And the conditions would be-"

"The conditions would be to get a coffee with me darling," Crowley replied simply. His expression was almost hopeful.

"I couldn't let you-"

"Of course you could."

"Now, if you'll let me finish." Crowley stayed mute. "Alright then. Well, I honestly could use the money but I'm not so sure if that's appropriate."

"Why would anything have to be appropriate. I'll give you the money you need, and you have coffee with me. It's that simple."

"Don't you assume I'm some sort o' prostitute," Bobby growled.

"I wouldn't dream of it Robert..." Crowley trailed off and looked down at his mostly unsmoked cigarette. He took a long drag of the deep smoke and spoke as it snaked its way out from between his parted lips, and then put it out on the grass underneath the worn bleachers. "Now all deals have to be sealed of course." He glanced at Bobby with a sly smile spreading across his face.

"What're you gettin' at?" Bobby eyed him suspiciously. He wasn't too sure if he liked where this was going.

"Oh come on Robert. You can't possibly be that bloody oblivious." Bobby made no move to speak. This was his student. His young student. He couldn't do this. But would he be able to deny Crowley if the Englishman offered himself to him? Bobby honestly wasn't sure. "Deals have to be sealed correct?" Bobby nodded uncertainly. "And we're making a deal here?"

"I suppose so, but I can't take advantage of you boy." It was feeble, and Bobby's voice wavered at the end but it was the best he could do.

"Believe me Robert, you won't be the one taking advantage of any situation here." Crowley said, allowing a hint of nervousness creep into his voice. He almost looked vulnerable. Even in the short while Bobby had known Crowley, he had never seen him the least bit uncertain of himself, never unconfident.

"I'm not sure what you're implying," Bobby lied. "But, erm. Should we shake on it?" Bobby was almost pleading. He honestly wasn't sure if he'd be able to say no to Crowley. But he did need the money, and at this point it had become clear that this was about more than that. Everything they said was an excuse. He let as little expression show as he waited for Crowley's answer.

Crowley's answer didn't come in words.

He pulled Bobby forward slightly with one hand. Gently, but insistant. With elegant fingers he removed Bobby's old trucker hat and he slid his other hand behind Bobby's neck and brushed his lips softly against his. It was first a chaste kiss, simple, just to 'seal the deal' but then with a small tilt of Crowley's head he deepened the kiss. Crowley pressed his lips more firmly against Bobby's, wantonly yet almost desperate in it's softness. As if pleading for Bobby to allow this from him. If Bobby had any objections to this earlier they melted away when Crowley timidly brushed this tip of his tongue along Bobby's lower lip. He parted his lips without hesitation, letting Crowley sultrily trail his tongue across the roof of his mouth. It brought on an unexpected shiver and low, guttural groan from Bobby which pulled him back to reality sharply.

He put a hand on the Englishman's chest and urged him back, and stood up hurriedly.

"Well! Um, I think that validates the deal don't you? Well, I have to go. I have erm, a class! Next period to teach." Bobby put slight emphasis on teach, willing Crowley to understand that he couldn't do this. It wasn't that he didn't want to, far from it. But it wasn't right. He couldn't take advantage of a student like this.

Bobby felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he took in the hurt in Crowley's eyes from the rejection he was sure he felt. Before Bobby could change his mind or Crowley could say something to make him stay, he stalked away as quickly as he could.

When Bobby got back to his classroom he walked straight to his desk, not bothering to turn the lights on, and collapsed into his chair. What had he just gotten himself into?