John obliges, his pale flesh slipping beneath the water as he tries to remember the last time he'd shared a tub with anyone. Years, definitely. Maybe closer to a decade (counting Wonderland years). He remembers he was young and she thought baths were cute. The relationship hadn't lasted long; in retrospect, he'd been uncomfortable at the time, but too foolish to realize.

This is different. Almost instantly, the combination of hot water and close contact starts melting away the tension. The setting's artfully romantic, sure, but not uncomfortable. Crowley's always had good taste in that regard.

"This might be the first time you've used the dark arts on me," he quips, his body body relaxing back against the demon for a moment.