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Bobby's heart seemed to freeze over in his chest, his breath caught in his throat. The gun still raised in the air, pointing at where the witch had been standing before Bobby had shot her in the head. Had he been too late? Given her the one final second she needed to complete her chant and kill Crowley? He wasn't moving, limply crumpled in a heap.
His feet felt heavy as he forced himself forward, now empty gun slipping from his grasp and clattering to the floor behind him. His mouth was dry, tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth.
"C....Crowley?" He managed to whisper. There wasn't a response.
Pulse racing he fell to the floor next to Crowley. His hands reached out, hesitating before closing the distance and clasping Crowley. Dread filled him and he almost let go at the feeling of entirely lax muscles. No resistance, no tenseness, no nothing. He knew what touching a dead person felt like all too well. With numbness sweeping through him, Bobby pulled Crowley into his arms with effort. His head lolled back and Bobby's heart lurched.
It was always when someone he cared for died that he truly felt disappointment in himself. That he couldn't have made an effort to make more memories with them. That despite as closed off as he was, it still didn't stop the few from slipping through his wall of solitude and isolation. And now it was Crowley. He'd kept his feelings for the demon private and to himself, knowing that every single hunter would disapprove, especially Sam and Dean. And so Crowley came round and visited him constantly, starting with the excuse of bringing new information (a good way to justify not killing a demon to others) and resources to him until it was just him visiting for no other reason than the fact that he liked Bobby's company. Although he never said it out loud, both knew that Bobby liked Crowley's company. Now he felt like there was a sour taste in his mouth, filled with regret for never acting upon his wishes like always. Another corpse in his arms, slipping through his fingers like water.
Crowley stirred and then jerked. He felt hands on him and with his last memory alive being the witch his hands shot out, grabbing at the being, prepared to snap his fingers and finally destroy it. Only it jumped in response hands clasping one of his. He could hear breathing and he knew who it was before he even spoke.
"Crowley?" Bobby asked in shock, his heart was racing in his chest as he looked down at Crowley. He was blinking up at Bobby, vision returning until Bobby came into focus.
"Bobby." He croaked, relaxing his hand into Bobby's grip. Bobby was looking at him like he never had before, eyes glassy while he struggled to find a regular breathing rhythm. If he hadn't just stared eternal darkness in the face he might have made some quip or joke to which Bobby would tell him to shut up. Instead, he reached a hand up to Bobby's face and impulsively pulled him in for a kiss.
He pressed all of his self into that kiss. All the life he had. The last scraps his soul. All the love a demon could have. He felt them all tumble wordlessly from his mouth to Bobby's in communication. He knew Bobby would understand. He pulled back, allowing himself to drop back to Bobby's lap. Bobby was looking at him in shock, mouth slightly agape and Crowley felt his stomach twist. He realised this was the first time outside of their deal they'd made years back that they'd kissed. Quickly he misconstrued Bobby's lack of a response as a negative thing, hastily trying to backpedal, not wanting to lose what they had.
"You can't blame me, I almost died-"
Bobby ducked his head down and kissed Crowley. Crowley made a small sound of surprise but quickly melted into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Bobby's neck. He felt Bobby's hands clasping tightly at his back, holding him securely. He felt all the tenseness dissipate from his body and allowed himself to be consumed by the newfound addicting feeling of safety and acceptance.