It was a night like any other since Dean’s summer had begun.
He and Crowley were out on the town, or, if you wanted to be more specific, in Dean’s favorite bar, which meant copious amounts of beer and hot wings and karaoke. Crowley didn’t partake in any of it, but after a few hours Dean was feeling pretty damn high from all the intense looks the other demon was throwing his way. He remembered the brother he had ditched for no more than a moment, of all the disappointed looks sent his way back in that life, and at least Crowley had the common decency not to be a buzz kill when all Dean wanted was to let loose and have some fun.
It was just... that look of amusement and satisfaction and hunger started to distract him once he paid more notice to it.
And why it was happening tonight of all nights could only be Dean’s uninterested guess.
Dean hopped off the stage and ordered another beer. Crowley was sitting at a nearby table and didn’t join him, but he did follow Dean when he went out the back door for some air, or really for no apparent reason other than his impatient expectation that Crowley follow. Normally he wasn’t bothered when Crowley trailed after him like a lost puppy, but tonight he was downright irritated, despite having wanted this result from his intended abrupt departure.
If Crowley was just worried about him then he’d probably need to get way drunker, or maybe he’d just brush it off like he always did. Crowley’s mother-henning could be annoying at times, but at least it was better than fake sympathy.
Maybe he just needed to go kill something. Blood lust always did get him cranky.
“Look, Crowley, I have no idea what the hell you want. And I really don’t care enough to play guessing games. So why don’t you just...,” Crowley’s mouth pressed softly against his then, kissing him so slowly Dean wanted to tell him to hurry the hell up already. Whiskey was heavy on Crowley’s breath though, and it was the brand that Dean liked, so he maybe dug a little deeper. At first he was disappointed that there was no tongue action, but then he told himself to wait and focused on everything that was happening.
The other demon’s hand was nagging at his, fingers working at Dean’s own until he uncurled them and allowed him entrance, thumb pressing into one of Dean’s palms so hard he groaned into Crowley’s mouth. Crowley smirked, beard scratching roughly against Dean’s cheek as he shifted, and then a tongue flicked out experimentally to tease at Dean’s bottom lip. It pulled back almost immediately and Dean clenched his hand again in frustration, trapping Crowley’s thumb inside it.
Oh fuck no you don't.
He pushed closer, no longer caring whether Crowley had played him from the get-go. Nothing mattered anymore except Crowley in his mouth, damn warm hands running up and down Dean’s sore sides - from a helluva time last night - until he seized them to make sure Crowley wouldn’t get away. If he wanted Dean in some dirty back alley, then he wasn’t gonna just up and leave after one kiss.
Crowley had tried hard to be his friend ever since taking Dean under his wing; it had somehow become his only goal in life. He sucked at it most of the time, but in a way that was what Dean liked. He didn’t need friends anymore, or family, all they did was hold you back and drag you down and make promises they couldn’t keep and breathe down your neck until you did what they wanted you to do. Crowley was something different though, he was someone Dean wanted with him. Someone he could have a good time with.
Just as long as Crowley didn’t try to boss him around.
He pushed Crowley up against a rain-slicked wall and they kissed for a while, neither of them feeling the need to take it any further. Dean’s head had slowed down to near lethargy, a sort of peace as the other demon breathed heavily against his cheek. His thumb brushed over Dean’s bottom lip, which he had just bloodied and probably more than once, Dean had lost track.
And still, like Dean, Crowley was never tired and always ready for more.
“How’s about we head off for a little slice and dice, darling?”
Dean flicked away his own blood with his tongue, and the promise of more was just too damn tempting to resist. “Lead the way,” - and just for fun, only this once - “my king.”