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The Saga of Dean and Crowley

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Ok, so this is my very first Dean/Crowley. I had planned to write my usually Sam/Dean but lately I've fallen absolutely in love with Crowley and he kept popping into my head so I finally gave in and here it is. I don't know if it's any good or if I've done Crowley justice but I tried. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me except the plot.


Dean stared glumly at the beer he had no desire to drink and tried to make sense of the monumental mess they were all in. It wasn't often he allowed himself time to think because when he did he was swallowed by a overwhelming sense of hopelessness. He wasn't trained for this, he wasn't sane enough to shoulder the weight of the entire world on his shoulders.

Tearing his attention away from his beer he stared at the Horseman rings. The fate of humanity comes down to four pieces of jewellery. Although Dean didn't really have to worry about the apocalypse because when Death found he had lied right to his face, he was screwed for all eternity anyway. He just couldn't do it. Almost thirty years of Sam being his responsibility, and he was expected to just let Sam say yes to the Devil?

"Why so glum cupcake?"

Dean didn't bother looking up to see who it was, the gruff British drawl was impossible to mistake. He was grateful for Crowley's company, something which made him rather uncomfortable. Normally just being around a demon made the bile rise in his throat and his fingers itch for the Colt, but not when it came to Crowley. He liked Crowley's sense of humour. The first time Crowley had called Sam moose he nearly choked on his own tongue in an effort to stop the laughter that was desperately trying to escape.

"What do you think Death does to people who lie to him?"

"Nothing pleasant."

Dean glanced up to see Crowley leaning against the door to the garage holding a bottle of whisky and two glasses.

"Although, I wouldn't really know. I don't think anyone has ever been that stupid before." Crowley continued before pushing himself off the door frame and sitting across from Dean.

Dean was amazed at the level of cockiness an self importance Crowley was capable of putting into a single movement. And he was even more amazed that it didn't irritate him as much as it would if it was anyone else.

"I'm guessing your question isn't hypothetical?" Crowley asked, opening the bottle of amber liquid and pouring two glasses before sliding one over to Dean.

Dean swallowed half the liquid quickly, needing the soothing warmth that came with it. Looking at Crowley he hesitated. Was he really going to have a heart to heart with the demon?

"I promised Death I'd let Sam say yes to Lucifer." Dean admitted, swirling the whisky in his glass absently .

Crowley rolled his eyes and took a small sip of his own drink before answering. "Has it ever occurred to you, that it isn't up to you to let Sam do anything."


"Your brother is an over grown moose of a man with breath taking anger management issues. He's big enough and ugly enough to make his own decisions."

"I know that. Fuck. I know. I just…..I raised him Crowley. After mum died, dad crawled into a bottle and I was left to take care of Sam. I was four years old, couldn't even tie my own shoe laces but I was responsible for the life of my little brother. I know he's a grown man, but to me? To me he's still the same four year old boy who wants to sleep in my bed because he's scared of the monster in his closet." Dean couldn't stop himself when it all started pouring out. He'd never told anyone this and it felt really good to finally unload.

There was a long silence as they both tried to understand the strange air of familiarity and intimacy Dean's confusion had generated. Dean was confused by how easy it was to tell Crowley such personal things and how he could feel so at ease and relaxed in the demon's presence.

Crowley was busy struggling to identify the strange stirring of emotions he hadn't felt for over two hundred years. Empathy maybe? No empathy was different, he didn't understand why Dean would feel the way he did. Sympathy perhaps?

"What are you doing here anyway?" Dean broke the silence eventually. "You usually piss off when your part is over."

Crowley snorted and poured himself another drink and asking silently if Dean wanted another. When Dean nodded he poured the drink without a word. It was only after taking a sip and savouring the taste did he speak.

"Where else am I supposed to go? My house is burnt to the ground, I can't go back to Hell anytime soon, and I'm on Lucifer's most wanted list underneath you, Moose and Angel cakes." Crowley admitted but there wasn't a hint of self pity in his voice and Dean knew why. Crowley was used to being alone, he was a survivor, adapting to any situation effortlessly.

"Give me your phone."

"And why would I do that?" Crowley asked, raising his eyebrow in a way that was both curious and condescending.

Dean pulled his own face and held out his hand. Crowley smirked and pulled the black iphone out of his jacket pocket and holding it out. Dean went to grab it but he pulled it away just out of reach. "Let me see the rings and I'll give you the phone."

Dean realised the rings were still held tightly in his left hand. Once again he had to ask himself whether or not he trusted Crowley with the rings. Sighing softly he slid them over the table towards Crowley but not without a cocky retort. "Is everything a deal to you?"

"I'm King of the crossroads for a reason darling." Crowley answered with a cocky smirk before placing the phone in Dean's hand with a quiet slap.

Dean rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. Glancing up he watched Crowley examine the rings curiously, a intent look on his face. Dean slid the bar across to unlock and swear when he realised he had no idea what Crowley's password was.

"What's your password?"

"That wasn't part of the deal."

"Crowley." Dean growled and was rewarded with a small smile. Not a smirk but a genuine smile.

"Sixteen sixty-one."

Crowley was telling the truth.

"You know Crowley, I like you. I don't trust you, but I do like you." Dean admitted as he created a new contact and tapped in his personal number. "So if you ever need anything, give me a call."

Dean had a feeling he was going to regret his actions sometime in the future but chances were he wouldn't survive that long so he handed Crowley back his phone without hesitation.

"What could I possibly need your help for lumberjack?" Crowley snarked but there was no heat behind it and he slid the phone back into his jacket pocket.

"What is he doing here?" Sam asked nastily, spotting Crowley as he entered the garage from the house, large body creating a shadow over the two.

"And that's my cue to leave." Crowley answered, chucking Dean the rings and disappearing.

Dean caught them and sighed inwardly when he saw the look of scandal on Sam's face.

"You gave him the rings?" Sam asked incredulous.

"I let him hold them for five minutes!" Dean shot back.

"Dean! How stupid can you be? What if he had taken off with them?"

"Sam in case you've forgotten he's the only reason we have them all!" Dean yelled back.

Sam frowned and then his face went lack, eyes widening in shock. "You trust him. You actually trust him."

"No I don't." Dean denied.

He didn't trust Crowley.

He didn't.

He couldn't.


Alright, so there it is. There will be more coming and I know it's short but I wanted to see if it was any good and people liked it. Hope you enjoyed it and please review.

Chapter Text

Dean rolled his eyes and did his best to shut the whiny noise of Sam's voice from his head. It had been exactly twelve hours since Sam had found him and Crowley in the garage having a chat and he still hadn't shut up about it. Dean knew it had been exactly twelve hours because every five minutes he would look at his phone and hope desperately Sam would go to sleep soon so he could have a few hours peace.

Unfortunately Sam didn't appear to be slowing down any time soon and Dean was seriously beginning to contemplate gagging him. Thankfully Bobby was remaining blissfully silent and Castiel didn't say much about anything so that was alright. Sam was the only one who couldn't let it go. So Dean did what he did best, he pretended Sam wasn't there and focused on his beer and the deep scratches on Bobby's kitchen table.

"I just can't believe you Dean!" Sam exclaimed for what Dean was sure the seven hundredth time in the last four hours.

Dean groaned and dropped his head on the kitchen table with a thump. His brother was like a dog with a bone and Dean wondered if he shot Sam, would Lucifer bring him back? Almost certainly. So it wouldn't really be killing Sam at all and if he was dead for a few hours he wouldn't be talking. The more Dean thought about it, the better of an idea it seemed. Bobby cleared his throat from the doorway and Dean was pulled back from his thoughts.

"Sam I could use some help."

Dean could have kissed Bobby at that moment. Unlike Sam, Bobby must have noticed he was seriously considering killing his brother for a few hours peace and he found himself silently praying Sam would take the hint and go and help Bobby because one more word from Sam and Dean would snap.

"Bobby don't you think what Dean is doing is wrong?"

Too late.

"Excuse me? What exactly am I doing?" Dean snarled.

"Getting involved with Crowley!"

"Involved? You make it sound like we're having a torrid love affair! We spoke for all of ten minutes!" Dean hadn't been this angry at Sam in a long time. How could Sam be so judgemental?

"This is Ruby all over again!"

"Sam." Bobby warned, seeing Dean's jaw clench.

"Ruby was a conniving little bitch who got you hooked on demon blood. Crowley has never lied to us, if it weren't for him we'd still be looking for the Colt. Not only that but it's because of him we have the last two rings!"

Dean glared at Sam, silently telling him to drop it before it got nasty and they both said things they'd regret later. Sam pushed his jaw out in defiance and Dean knew he wouldn't back down. He'd seen that look too many times. It was the look Sam had perfected as a kid when he'd first started rebelling against John. Taking a deep breath Dean realised he would have to be the bigger man and walk away. Standing up he shot Sam a glare before elbowing past him. If Sam refused to go to bed, fine. He could stay awake as long as he wanted.

"Where are you going?" Bobby asked.

"I'm gonna go get some sleep."

As he started up the stairs he realised Sam was planning on following him. "Follow me and I'll shoot you in the face." he gritted out, clenching his teeth so tightly it hurt.


Dean rolled over for what felt like the hundredth time that night and buried his face as far in the pillow as possible. Going to bed when he wasn't the remotest bit tired had been a bad idea, he'd admit that. The worse part was he'd have to wait for Bobby and Sam to go to sleep or he'd look like even more of an idiot then he already felt.

Grunting in irritation he rolled over again and stared at the ceiling. Not for the first time he wondered when was the last time Bobby had cleaned the house. The walls that had once been white had turned yellow over years of neglect and were peeling in places. But no matter how shabby and run down it was, it was still the closet thing Dean had to a home. Swearing under his breath he rolled over once again but instead of rolling into his pillow he rolled into Crowley.

"Christ!" the only thing that stopped Dean from screaming like a little girl was the fact over the months he had gotten used to Castiel popping up out of nowhere. Although that didn't stop him from flinging himself away from Crowley so violently he nearly fell off the bed.

"Not quite."

Dean was too busy trying to regain control of his breathing to speak and settled for a glare. Crowley was taking up half of the double bed, leaning against the headboard with his ankles crossed and it was by far the oddest thing Dean had seen in a while. There was a demon in his bed, and now he was over the initial shock of Crowley's appearance, that didn't bother him as much as it should.

"Are you trying to give me a fucking heart attack?" he growled, laying back down. If Crowley could pretend this was completely normal, so could he.

"That would be horribly counterproductive. You're no use to me dead."

Dean looked up, craning his neck to see Crowley properly. It was weird having Crowley looming over him. "I don't feel like much use to anyone at the moment." he admitted.

Crowley rolled his eyes in irritation and unhooked his ankles to kick Dean in the leg. "Enough with the self pity! What is it with humans always feeling sorry for yourselves?"

"What are you doing here anyway?" Dean asked, not wanting to start an argument. If they started yelling Sam would hear and he really couldn't deal with that.

"I was hoping you'd have a plan by now."

"By now? I saw you yesterday."

Was it really too much to ask for a day or two to get used to the idea of Sam becoming Lucifer's bitch?

"A lot can happen in twenty-four hours. The longer you wait, the more likely it becomes Lucifer will hear of what you plan."

"Sam's going to say yes, that's been decided. However finding the Devil is harder than we thought." Dean admitted.

"The Devil's in Detroit." Crowley announced simply, like it was the most obvious thing.

Dean sat up and twisted so he was facing Crowley. "You knew and you just decided to keep it to yourself?"

"I knew you wouldn't like the answer."

Damn right he didn't like the answer. Detroit. He always said it would go down in Detroit. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes. He didn't want to think about it, not tonight. Tonight he just wanted to pretend the never ending nightmare that was currently his life was back to its pre-Lucifer days. Opening his eyes he looked over at Crowley, swallowing and squashing down the simmering attraction that appeared whenever Crowley was near.

He wasn't sure what attracted him to the demon, especially since he was everything Dean stood against. Maybe it was the fact Crowley was the only one who could make him laugh anymore? Or maybe it was because unlike with Sam, Bobby and Castiel, Dean didn't have to be a motivational speaker for him? What he did know was that being so close to the demon was making his head spin pleasantly in a way it hadn't done in years and the world was probably going to end soon so what was the harm? Why shouldn't he spend time with someone who made him feel like the old Dean again?

"Are you hungry?" he asked suddenly, taking Crowley by surprise.

Crowley frowned and for a fraction of a second Dean was what lay beneath the cocky mask Crowley was so fond of.

"I could eat." Crowley answered slowly. He didn't like being taken by surprise. In his business being caught by surprise was potentially fatal.

"Wanna go grab a burger? I know a place not far from here that's open all night."

"Why not? Come on then." Crowley made to move off the bed but Dean stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.


"That desperate to get me into bed?" Crowley smirked.

"Don't flatter yourself." Dean grunted, rolling off the bed and stumbling when his foot got caught in the blankets.

"Then what's the problem?"

"Can you just zap us to the Impala? I don't wanna face Sam and Bobby. Sam's already giving me enough shit." Dean explained as he pulled on his boots. He was thankful he hadn't changed out of jeans and shirt.

"Naughty, naughty. If I didn't know any better I'd say you were ashamed of our sordid little affair." Crowley teased him.

"We're going for dinner, we're not eloping." Dean snorted.

"And yet you still don't want Jolly Green to know you're with me."

"He thinks you're a bad influence."

Crowley slid off the bed with more grace then Dean ever would have been able to muster and stalked towards him. Dean was surprised that despite the height difference Crowley still managed to appear very dangerous and Dean found himself stepping back as his survival instinct kicked in. Crowley smirked at Dean's nervous movement and backed him up, practically pinning him to the wall. Dean swallowed and looked down at Crowley, waiting in suspense.

Crowley moved closer until their faces were almost touching and Dean felt himself moving in, closing the distance even more. There was barely a centimetre of space between them and Dean's head was swimming from the heady mix of Crowley's presence and the anticipation of what might come next. Crowley's hand wrapped around the back of his neck and griped tightly.

"Oh darling I am a very bad influence." Crowley whispered before pulling away and leaving Dean gaping. "Now let's go and eat. I'm starved."

Chapter Text

The twenty minute drive to the diner were some of the most confusing minutes of Dean's life. Crowley didn't say a word and seemed quite content to just stare out the window at the passing scenery, something Dean was thankful for because even if he had to, he didn't think he was capable of stringing together a coherent sentence.

The back of his neck tingled where Crowley had touched him and there was a uncomfortable twisting in his stomach. A mixture of anxiety, nerves and lust that made him feel like his body was betraying him. That moment back at Bobby's with Crowley's body pressed against his own, head spinning and his heart racing had made him realise just how out of his depth he really was.

This thing between him and Crowley, whatever it was, it was twisted and exciting and so completely and utterly new it left him reeling. All his life he had been the purser, every semi-relationship, every one night stand had been a situation where he dominated.

Even on the rare occasions where he'd gone home with a man he had always made sure he was in charge, the one who made the first move, the one who charmed, flirted and teased his way into the beds and pants of his conquests. With Crowley it was different and Dean knew if this thing between them went any further it would be Crowley who dominated.

Crowley had this deep seated aura of danger that came from being the most powerful person in the room. One look from Crowley and Dean went weak at the knees, swooning like a 1950s movie heroine. The effect Crowley had on him was unlike anything Dean had ever experienced and that made him nervous, he didn't like being out of his element.

When they pulled into the parking lot of the diner, Crowley took one look at the run down building and scrunched his nose in disgust, pulling a snort from Dean.

"The food tastes better then you'd think." Dean reassured him.

"Tasting slightly better then garbage isn't exactly an achievement." Crowley muttered but got out of the car without any further protest.

They entered the building together and Dean could practically see Crowley's opinion of the of the place drop even more. Dean scanned the place and couldn't see what Crowley's problem was. Sure the tables looked a bit sticky and the chairs had a few stains and maybe the floor hadn't been cleaned any time this decade but he had eaten in worse places. Crowley was obviously still used to the finer, more expensive things in life whereas he hadn't eaten anything that didn't come in a microwavable container in months.

"Get off your high horse and pick a seat." Dean grunted.

Crowley rolled his eyes but inspected the booths with a sneer and Dean chuckled at how out of place Crowley looked in his expensive suit.

"Hmmmmm, I wonder which seat will be least likely to give me an STD?"

"Crowley." Dean warned.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist darling." Crowley sighed, sitting down in one of the booths at the very back, grimacing as the shiny, cheap plastic of the seat crinkled and squeaked.

Dean rolled his eyes at the dramatics and flung himself into the seat opposite so they were face to face and picking up the menu to avoid Crowley's glare.

"This is by far the worst place I've ever been taken for a date. And I dated in Hell." Crowley snarked, picking up the extra menu.

Dean froze and the twisting in his stomach doubled in strength, making him feel giddy and terrified at the same time. "This is a date?" he finally managed to choke out, unsure whether Crowley was serious or just messing with him.

Crowley rolled his eyes and let loose a long suffering sigh. "Of course it is pet. Do try to keep up."

Dean was still gaping when a despondent looking waitress, radiating irritation at the world in general came over to their table.

"What can I get you" She asked in the most bored tone imaginable, not even looking up from her order pad.

"I'll have the cheeseburger bacon deluxe, my friend will have the Grande Mexican nacho's with extra cheese and two cokes." Dean answered before Crowley could open his mouth.

"And they say chivalry is dead. Ordering for me? You sure know how to make a girl swoon." Crowley teased.

The woman huffed and walked off without another word.

"What a charming woman." Dean muttered sarcastically, causing Crowley to snort.

Crowley threw his menu to one side with a huff. Shifting slightly he placed his hand on the table. He froze and closed his eyes briefly to push down the volcanic anger rising inside him when he felt something sticky on his hand. One of the downsides of being a demon, that bubbling anger sitting just below the surface and it was a constant battle to keep it under control.

Many years of practise had made him better it at then most. As he wiped his hand on his pants he couldn't help but ponder the circumstances that had led him to this shit hole, eating food that would most likely give him food poisoning. He'd spent two hundred years as a crossroad demon, building his wealth and power, making sure he was the very best at what he did.

Two hundred years and he'd lost it all in six months. Two centuries made redundant by an Angel having a bitch fit. The waitress returned with their drink and he was pleased to see at least the glasses were clean.

Dean watched in fascination as Crowley took a sip and dissolve into a coughing fit.

"Bloody hell! How do people drink that swill?"

"Stop being so melodramatic." Dean laughed, swallowing a large mouthful of coke with a smile.

He was saved from Crowley's retort by arrival of their food and the smell of it made Dean realise just how hungry he was. Lately he'd been living on whisky and protein bars, the thought of eating something that resembled actual food made his stomach growl.

"Why the hell not? Let's give it a try." Crowley muttered, hesitating for a fraction of a second before picking up a nacho dripping in cheese and putting it in his mouth cautiously.

Dean bit into his burger, groaning low in the back of his throat. It was by far the best thing he'd eaten in a month.

"So. Is Crowley your real name?" he asked, doing his best to speak around a mouthful of half chewed burger.

Crowley raised a single eyebrow and regarded him thoughtfully as he popped another nacho in his mouth. "No. It's not." he admitted finally.

"What is your real name?"

"That's classified and you don't have the necessary clearance." Crowley smirked.

"Are you always such a cocky bastard?" Dean asked, but there was no real heat behind his words.

"Considering it's a primary aspect of my personality, yes I am."

Dean rolled his eyes and smiled at Crowley's words. He knew that wasn't true, in the short time he'd known Crowley he'd seen behind the mask a handful of times.

"Alright. So what did you do to end up in the pit?"

"Are we playing Twenty Questions and I wasn't informed?" Crowley asked in what Dean saw as a rather obvious attempt to change the subject.

"I'm a curious person. It's what makes me so could at my job." Dean shrugged. "How about we make a little deal?"

Crowley perked up noticeably as his interest was peaked. "A deal? I'm listening."

"You answer my questions and I'll give you something in return." Dean explained, biting into a chip.

"What will you give me?"

"What do you want?"

"I reserve the right to decide at a later date."

Dean narrowed his eyes and bit his lips in thought. Thinking quickly he came to the conclusion Crowley wouldn't ask for anything too extreme and nodded his consent.

"It's a deal. Ask away. You have until I finish these nacho's."

"How did you end up in the pit?" Dean repeated his earlier question.

"Determined aren't you? Fine, if you really want to know I sold my soul."


"I was drunk and I figured if I'm going to hell anyway, I might as well get something out of it." Crowley answered, taking a sip of his drink.

"You were so sure you were going to hell? Dean asked, shocked. What could Crowley have done that was so bad he was sure of his place in the pit.

"Not surprisingly all the traits that make be a very good demon made me a pretty shitty human. I drank, I whored, committed sodomy on more then a few occasions. Being human, it was more of prequel. This, what I am now, is what I was always meant to be."

Dean could understand that. Crowley knew what he was and didn't pretend to be anything other then that. Just one more thing he liked about Crowley, how unapologetic he was about who and what he was.

"You have one more question by the way." Crowley gestured at the lone nacho sat on his plate.

Dean knew he had to make the last question count, he'd probably never get this chance again. Clicking his tongue he tried to think of his next question when it hit him.

"Do you think we can win?"

"What?" Crowley blinked, thrown off by the question.

"Do you think we can win? Against Lucifer?" Dean repeated. He didn't know why he wanted to know what Crowley thought all he knew was that it mattered to him for some reason.

Crowley paused and swirled the last of his coke around thoughtfully before answering. "Yes."


"Lucifer is more powerful then you can understand but he's blinded by his hatred of humanity and the size of his ego. He's arrogant, doesn't view you as a legitimate threat and that's his weakness. He underestimates the lengths humans will go to survive." Crowley explained before popping the last nacho in his mouth. "And that's question time over darling."

Dean nibbled on what was left of his chips, swirling them around in the tomato sauce and patting his full stomach happily.

"Are you ready to go?" Dean asked quietly, not really sure how they progress from here.

"And where are we going?" Crowley teased, pushing his plate away.

"I assumed you were coming back to Bobby's with me." he admitted, cursing himself silently when he felt the blush rise to his cheeks.

"How dare you Mr Winchester! I'm not that kind of girl!"

Dean snorted so hard it hurt

"Come on then, let's go. I'll still have to burn my clothes and shower for an hour just to get rid of the stench of this place anyway." Crowley continued, standing up and straightening his suit.

Dean rolled his eyes and made a mental note to cut down on the eye rolling when he was around Crowley, it was starting to give him a headache. Standing up he payed the bill and feeling daring he placed a hand on the small of Crowley's back, guiding him out of the diner.

"Admit it, you had a good time." he pushed, nudging Crowley's shoulder playfully.

"I've had worse nights."

Crowley shivered in the cold night air and leaned against the Impala, thankful of his thick coat. Dean settled next to him, closer than necessary and confirming his suspicions. Dean wanted him.

Dean twisted to the side just as Crowley flipped him around and pinned him to the car. His hand shot up and he buried his fingers in Crowley's hair. Crowley's hand snaked up between them and cupped his cheek, rubbing his thumb in small circles.

"I'm giving you one chance to back out."

Dean breathed in the scent that was uniquely Crowley and tried to think straight through the haze of lust, Crowley's warm body pressed tight against him wasn't helping either. Making up his mind he tightened his grip on the demon's hair and pulled him into a crushing kiss. It was a rough kiss all tongue and teeth, biting and nipping.

Dean poured all his suppressed desire and need into the kiss, whimpering as Crowley plundered his mouth mercilessly and he was sure this was the best feeling in the world. Nothing had ever felt so right and so deliciously wrong at the same time. Their mouths moved together perfectly but eventually Dean had to pull away for air. He groaned when Crowley bit his bottom lip hard enough to sting.

"Fuck." he panted, pulling away just enough to separate their mouths but leaving their foreheads pressed together.

"If you ask nicely."

Crowley voice was even rougher than usual and it sent shivers down Dean's spine.

"What do you want Dean? I'll give you whatever you want, but you have to ask for it."

Dean stroked a hand down his neck before leaning down and mouthing light kisses across Crowley's jaw. "I want you to fuck me."

Crowley ran the pad of his thumb across Dean's the kiss swollen bottom lip, feeling himself shiver under his heated gaze. "It would be my pleasure pet."

Chapter Text

Dean hadn't felt this nervous about sex since his first time and the anticipation made him jittery, blood thumping in his ears, making it almost impossible to concentrate. Crowley perched on the edge of the lumpy mattress and Dean knew why he hadn't made a move yet, Crowley was waiting for him to make the first move.

Crowley was giving him one last chance to back out and pretend this never happened. Dean took a moment to consider it. Flirting was one thing but sex was much more intimate and if he went through with it, there would be no coming back. It took him less then a minute to decide what he wanted and oh how he wanted the crossroad demon sitting in front of him.

It was about time he got something he got something he wanted. Walking over to Crowley he straddled his lap and ignoring the voice in his head telling him he was acting like a girl. Crowley's eyebrows shot up in surprise, he hadn't been expecting Dean to be so straight forward.

He wrapped his arms tight around Crowley's neck to steady himself and smirked when a arm curled around his waist. He couldn't believe how patient Crowley was being but quickly reminded himself that this was just as new to Crowley as it was to him, Crowley was just a better actor.

Even sitting on the demon's lap he was still a head taller and he was forced to lean down in order to capture his lips in a kiss. This kiss was softer then the earlier one, exploring each others mouth languidly. He tried to twist his fingers in Crowley's hair and frowned when he couldn't get a proper grip on the short hair and settled for scratching at his scalp playfully. Crowley growled, causing Dean to shiver violently in desire and rock into him, cursing the many layers of fabric separating them.

Dean whimpered as Crowley kissed him passionately, tongue lapping gently at his open mouth. He couldn't think straight, his whole body burned and he ground down desperate for some friction on his aching cock. He hadn't felt this good in a long time, each bite sending him further into oblivion. He made a small noise of shock when Crowley stood up suddenly, taking Dean with him.

He clutched at wide shoulders, hoping Crowley wouldn't drop him. Thankfully being a demon made Crowley stronger then he had any right to be and Dean's weight didn't bother him in the slightest.

Spinning them around so Dean was hovering over the bed he dropped him without warning and Dean flinched at the tortured squeak of the mattress springs. Crowley smirked and snapped his fingers, locking the bedroom door with a quiet click.

"Don't want any interruptions do we cupcake?"

Dean bit his lip and decided if he was going to do this, he might as well go all in. he saw the predatory look in Crowley's eyes and slowly rubbed the growing bulge in his jeans, making sure not to break eye contact. When he saw the noticeable hitch in Crowley's breath he felt a spike pride at his ability to crack Crowley's calm exterior.

He grunted and began to undo his jeans, when they were unzipped he moved onto his shirt. Stripping off his shirt he watched Crowley do the same, still not breaking eye contact. Dean was blown away by how turned on Crowley's body made him, it wasn't like he imagined it to be.

Crowley was a bit chubby but there was definitely muscles hiding beneath the suit. Not that it mattered, it was Crowley we was attracted too, not the body. But it helped that the body was sexy as heel.

"Scoot up the bed pet." Crowley demanded.

Dean obeyed quickly, shuffling up the bed so he was laying down and feeling more vulnerable then he had in a long time. Sex wasn't usually this complicated, sex was one of the few Dean was a expert at. Crowley moved over to him and crawled onto the bed, kneeling over him. His breath hitched as Crowley surrounded him, pinning him down.

"You really are beautiful Dean." he murmured, dragging a hand across Dean's tanned collarbone.

He kissed down Dean's neck, scraping his teeth across the delicate skin and soaking up Dean's shiver. Dean arched into the wet heat of Crowley's mouth on his skin, moaning in pleasure when Crowley's cock slapped against his thigh. Crowley made his way down his body slowly, kissing, licking and sucking his way to Dean's leaking cock. Dean whined and pushed his hips up, hoping Crowley would take the hint.

"You ever done this before?"

"I'm far from a virgin Crowley." Dean hissed, wondering Crowley had stopped.

"Have you ever bottomed?" he rephrased, rolling his eyes.

Dean hesitated and looked down, meeting the demon's eyes. He could have sworn he could see concern shining back at him. "No." he admitted quietly, nerves coming back full force.

Crowley nodded and took a moment to admire the rather stunning view Dean made. Lips swollen and red, eyes bright with lust and desire. Not many people and even less demons ever got to see what he was seeing, Dean exposed and vulnerable. He ran his hands across Dean's chest, revelling in every twitching muscle and scraping nail across a pink nipple.

"Fuck!" Dean gasped as the air left his lungs.

He scratched a trail over Dean's stomach and across the tops of his thighs, watching them quiver. Snapping his fingers a bottle of lube appeared in his free hand and he snorted at Dean's confused look.

"Demon remember? I know lots of fun little tricks."

He popped the cap and coated his fingers, using more than was strictly necessary. He hadn't expected Dean to be virgin and he resented the extra work that came with it. He'd have to stretch him thoroughly.

Too much pain and Dean would simply back out and although he was strong enough and morally corrupt enough to simply take what he wanted, he'd never been a fan of rape. He preferred his partners willing.

He spread Dean's legs and rubbed a finger over the small puckered entrance, slipping a finger inside gently. Dean closed his eyes and tensed, having a finger inside him was the weirdest feeling.

"You need to relax."

Dean nodded and sure enough he felt the tight heat surrounding his finger loosen. Pushing the finger in deeper he twisted slowly, allowing Dean time to adjust.

"Push down."

Dean tried his hardest to push down on the intruding digit but his position made it difficult. Crowley added another, scissoring Dean's opening and soon he had four fingers fucking into Dean roughly and enjoying the happy noises Dean was making.

"I'm ready Crowley please!"

Dean was beyond caring about pride or dignity, he'd beg on his hands and knees if it got Crowley to fuck him. Pulling his fingers out, Crowley covered his cock in more of the lube and wrapped a strong hand around Dean's weeping cock, tugging roughly and pulling a curse from the nearly incoherent man.

"Do you like that?" he asked, taking sadistic pleasure in the way Dean's body shook with need.

Dean nodded, barely able to remember his own name let alone speak. Crowley growled and twisted his wrist just under the head of Dean's cock in retaliation.

"Use your big boy words."

"Yes!" Dean whispered harshly when he repeated the action.

The tip of Dean's cock was now a angry red and had started leaking all over Crowley's hand, causing the demon to sped up his movements and ending each tug with a expert twist of his wrist.

"I close." Dean warned.

Or at least that's what Crowley thought he said, it was hard to tell through the grunts and curses. When Dean was on the edge of coming, he griped Dean's hip tightly and thrust into him quickly. The only thing that stopped Dean from coming instantly was Crowley's death grip on the base of his cock.

"Holy Shit!"

Dean couldn't believe how amazing it felt. Why had he never done this before? It was brilliant. Crowley inside him made his feel so unbelievably full.

"Hold on to me." Crowley instructed, hooking one of his legs around his waist.

Dean latched onto Crowley's shoulders and held on as tight as he could. Crowley winced as Dean's nails bit into his skin and he wouldn't be surprised if he was drawing blood.

Dean cursed as Crowley pulled out and rammed back in, causing him to see stars as he hit his prostate. He repeated the action and Dean swore his vision went black for a split second as he felt every vein and ridge in Crowley's cock. He felt so full, so alive and wanted as Crowley hammered into him and hitting his prostate.

Wrapping his legs around Crowley's waist he pulled them closer together, their sweaty bodies moving together easily. He needed him deeper, needed to be fucked harder. He could feel the orgasm building in his stomach, his balls pulling closer to his body and his legs shaking. Crowley continued to thrust deeper, panting a gasping above him.

Their eyes were locked and Dean couldn't deny the fact that this was a lot more intimate then he'd anticipated.

"Come on pet. Cum for me."

Dean gasped and withered under him, his whole body shaking from the force of each thrust and the impeding orgasm. Craning his neck he pulled Crowley into a passionate kiss, devouring the demon's mouth and ignoring the desperate need to breath.

He needed Crowley closer. When they reluctantly pulled away, Crowley's eyes snapped open and Dean was greeted by two burning red eyes, undeniable proof of what Crowley was.

The sight sent Dean over the edge and he came loudly, arching his back almost painfully and experiencing the most intense orgasm of his life. Crowley swore and his eyes widened as Dean's hole clenched around him and with a strangled roar he emptied himself inside Dean's limp body.

They lay together for what felt like hours, enjoying the post orgasm bliss. Sometime in that time Crowley had ended up on his back with Dean's head resting on his chest, playing with his chest hair. The cooling sweat on Dean's body made him shiver and he sighed thankfully when Crowley threw the blanket over them.

"Wow." Dean muttered as the reality of what they'd just done began to sink in.

"I'll take that as a compliment." Crowley murmured, he was exhausted in all the best possible ways.

Nothing calmed him quite like a good fuck and Dean was a very good fuck. Sex had always been one his talents and learning how to tortured had only made his better oddly enough. Torturing required intimate knowledge of a person's body, knowing the right places to send someone into a fit of agony, which meant he also knew the right places to send someone mindless with pleasure.

"At the risk of inflating your ego, that was the best sex I've had in years."

"You weren't so bad yourself."

Dean hummed and felt himself drifting off to sleep. Crowley was so warm and his arms circled around his waist perfectly. "Are you staying?"

"Got nowhere else to go."

Dean rolled his eyes, did Crowley really find it that hard to just admit he enjoyed his company?

There was a stretch of comfortable silence as Dean twirled his fingers in the thick black chest hair, thinking about the consequence that would undoubtedly follow their actions. What would happen on the long shot that they won and the only reason Crowley was their ally disappeared? Would he be able to separate his lover Crowley from demon Crowley? Were they even lovers or was this a one time deal?

"Is this a one time deal?" he asked suddenly, needing to know where they stood.

"Do you want it to be?"

"Do you really think I'd risk everything for a one night stand?"

Crowley sighed and ran his fingers through Dean's messy hair thoughtfully.

"I like you Dean, I really do, which is why I'm telling you this. I can be charming and witty and funny, it's what makes me an excellent crossroads demon. We can be friends and we can be lovers but never forget what I am. Never forget what I'm capable of and you won't get hurt." Crowley warned him quietly, resting his chin on the top of Dean's head.

"I don't think me forgetting you're a demon will ever be a problem or did you not see me jizz all over myself when I saw your red eyes?" Dean pointed out. He wouldn't ever forget Crowley was a demon or try to pretend otherwise because it made it all the more forbidden and Dean had a thing about doing things he wasn't supposed to. He'd spent the better part of his life hunting demons and he knew exactly what Crowley was capable of.

"If I'd known you'd like it so much I would have shown you them sooner." Crowley chuckled.

"Well now you know for next time." Dean teased, kissing the skin above his nipple.

"I don't know, don't wanna blow your load too early."

Dean snorted and shifted closer to Crowley's body heat.

"Get some sleep pet." Crowley could see he could barely keep his eyes open.

Dean closed his eyes and allowed sleep to take him. There was a excellent chance this would all blow up in his face but as a settled into the comfort of Crowley's arms he decided to enjoy it while it lasted.

Chapter Text

Dean woke slowly as the sunlight shown through the windows and he squinted as the light made him see stars. Rolling over, his eyes snapped open when he touched the cold, empty space where Crowley should have been and he couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed at his absence.

Rolling over on to his back, he stretched languidly and sighed happily when his shoulder popped. Crowley might not be here but that didn't hamper the feeling of utter contentment that made his problems seem far and away and muscles feel like jelly. He'd forgotten how relaxed a night of satisfying sex made him.

However, what he wasn't too fond of was the dried cum on his legs and stomach. Scrunching his nose in disgust at the flaking cum he kicked off the blanket and slipped out of bed, standing on shaky legs. it was only then he noticed the packet of wet wipes and a note on the bedside table. Dean snorted and tried to deny the fizz of happiness at Crowley's small act of care. he slipped the note out from under the wet wipes and smiled at the neat writing.

Sorry pet, something came up.
xx C

Smiling again he threw the packet on the bed, the thought was nice but at this point only hot water and soap would do the job. Padding into the bathroom he stepped into the shower and made the water as hot as he could handle. It took his nearly twenty minutes to clean the cum out of his ass and he spent the entire time cursing Crowley.

Next time they'd definitely be using a condom, it would make it much easier to clean up afterwards and he wouldn't have to awkwardly shove a soapy finger up his own ass. When he was finally cum free he scrubbed the rest of his body until his skin was pink, he was terrified of Sam or Bobby smelling sex on him. Getting out of the shower he walked past the bathroom mirror and froze when something caught his eye.

Blinking slowly he took a few steps back until he was level with the mirror and turned to face it head on. Staring in horror at his reflection he gently touched the three massive hickey's decorating his collarbone.

"Son of a bitch!" he whispered harshly.

What had Crowley been thinking? What if Dean hadn't seen them when he did? Did Crowley want to give Sam a brain aneurism?
Sighing angrily he left the bathroom and pulled on a worn band shirt and a pair of track pants. Why bother getting dressed when he was just going to spend all day in Bobby's library?

Dean groaned as he realised he'd have to come up with a way to let Bobby know the devil was in Detroit without it being suspicious. He picked up Crowley's note from the bed and stashed it in his duffle before making his way downstairs to the kitchen. Sam and Bobby would be awake by now and hopefully Sam had cooled down and if he was really lucky, Cas would have ended his pity party and was ready to be useful.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs he paused and sniffed the air suspiciously. he would swear he could smell pancakes. He shuffled into the kitchen and was greeted by the sight of Sam humming to himself while flipping pancakes and from the massive pile of pancakes on a plate he'd been doing it for a while. He Frowned in confusion and glanced over at Bobby who was standing on the other side of the room with his arms crossed, looking just as confused as Dean. Dean raised a questioning eyebrow and Bobby responded with a shrug.

"Uhhhh, Sammy?" Dean murmured hesitantly.

Sam spun around and greeted Dean with a shaky smile.

"You're up." he sliding the pancake from the pan and onto the pile with the rest.

"Whatcha doing?" Dean asked, trying not to sound as freaked out as he was.

Sam seemed to deflate and he put the pan on the counter, staring at his feet like a kicked puppy.

"They're for you." he muttered, pushing the pile towards Dean. "They're to apologise for acting like a dick."

"Thank you Sam." Dean chocked out, not really sure what to say.

"I was a total dick, I shouldn't have accused you of messing around with Crowley, I know you'd never do that. After all you I went through with Ruby and the trouble it's caused I should have realised you'd know better than anyone the trouble demon's cause, you're smarter than that."

Dean smiled as best he could while his heart was trying to crawl its way out of his chest and feeling like the worst person in the world. He couldn't believe he had to listen to Sam's apology while still feeling Crowley's phantom touch on his skin. "I appreciate that Sam, I know how stressed out you've been lately."

Dean had never hated himself more than he did at that moment.

"Right well, if this touching moment is over can we get back to saving the world?"

Dean rolled his eyes and bit into a pancake sullenly. He would need to find some way to prove Lucifer was in Detroit, while spending the entire time thinking of he night before. It was going to be a long day and he was slightly jealous of Crowley. Whatever the demon was doing, it had to be better then this.


Crowley would rather be anywhere other then here. He stared at the run down trailer that he had been reduced to living in. It was still early in the morning and the trailer park was relativity empty, everyone still in bed and Crowley scowled at the thought. Right now he should be in middle of round two with Dean, but no, instead he'd been informed of someone breaking into his trailer.

Over the last few months he had become very adapt at protection and security spells and as soon as someone other than him had entered his trailer, he knew. Sighing irritably he walked over to the trailer and pushed the door open silently. Slipping into the tiny room, he could help but reflect on how far his standards had dropped.

Scanning the room his almost immediately noticed the intruder. It was a young girl, no older than six, shoulder length brown hair and wearing a light blue sundress and white shoes. Her back was turned to him and she was currently riffling through his suitcase. Without taking his eyes of her Crowley reached into the couch cushion and pulled out a crowbar.

Granted it wasn't the best weapon but it would do the job adequately. She still hadn't seen him which made it easy for him to sneak up behind her, swing the crowbar back and bringing it down on the side of her head and knocking her out cold. She crumpled to the ground with a thump.

Crowley stared down at the limp body of the child and kicked her over onto her back. Blood was already matting her dark hair and her face was lax, the picture of innocence. But he could see her true face, the face of the demon inside.
"Christine. What a surprise."

Crowley leaned against the wall and sipped at a glass of his favourite whiskey. This warehouse really was the best place for what he intended to do, it was a long ago closed down industrial area with no inhabitants for miles around. It had taken his a while to find the perfect spot and hours to cover the building in demon and angel wards but it was worth it.

Tucking a hand in his pocket he turned his attention to the figure in the middle of the room, strapped down to an old wooden chair. He stood by his earlier assessment, the child couldn't be anymore than six years old, although draped across the chair unconscious she looked younger.

Blood from the head wound cover half her face and Crowley was surprised at Christine's choice of meat suit. Sure children had their benefits, no one suspected a child after all but they were ultimately more trouble then they were worth. Too many questions were asked about the absence of a child or of one travelling alone. Crowley checked the leather bonds etched with binding symbols once more.

Keeping Christine alive was dangerous but he had to know how she had found him and any news on Lucifer. Not too long ago she had been one of his crossroad demons and he had no doubt Lucifer had sent her. He was alerted to her awakening by the fluttering of her eyelashes and quickened breathing.

"Finally. I thought you'd sleep through all the fun." he teased, pushing himself off the wall and stalking towards her.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world baby."

Crowley sent her a cocky smile and rolled over a metal table full of all his knifes and enjoyed the simplicity of what he was about to do.

"So. Are you going to tell me what I want to know or are we going to do this the fun way?" Crowley asked, picking up his favourite knife and admiring the way the light hit the blade.

"You won't hurt me." Christine said with such certainty it made Crowley pause and blink.

"What could possibly have given you that idea?" he asked, pulling a face.

"Everyone knows you've gone soft. Spending all your time with the Winchester boys. I chose this body for a reason, this girl is so young and innocent, all she wants is to go back to her mummy and daddy." Christine sneered, hate and contempt clouding the child's face.

"I'm still not sure what the point is."

"You'll kill her before you get me to talk, what would your precious Winchesters say then? You don't have it in you anymore."

Crowley rolled his eyes and kneeled down in front of her, pressing the tip of his knife into her neck hard enough to draw blood. "You're stupider than I thought."

"And you're nothing but a tamed pet, slumming it with the humans." Christine bit back, wincing when Crowley pushed the blade deeper into her skin.

He looked around the warehouse with a shrug. "I'll admit, times are hard but I like to think of it as a opportunity to exercise my creativity. And trust me, I am very creative." Crowley answered with a smirk and slicing open her flesh in a long line from cheek to collarbone.

"You know what? I think I might let little Ashleigh take over the reins for a bit. See it you've got what it takes when she begging for her life."

Christine closed her eyes and slumped in the chair for a moment before her eyes snapped open, shinning with fear and tears.

"Please don't hurt me!" she begged, body shaking with sobs.

Crowley sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose tightly. "Let me guess, Ashleigh?" he didn't have time for this.

"How do you know my name? Please, I want to go home!"

Ashleigh was so scared her body was shaking violently and tears streamed freely down her face, eyes red and puffy.
He pulled a face, this was why he hated children. They were so needy.

"Please! My name is Ashleigh, I'm six and I have a mum and dad and dog and I want to go home! I promise I won't tell, I promise! Just let me go! Let me go!"

Crowley cut her off with a hard slap, splitting her lip and snapped her head to one side. He hit her so hard she would have flown off the chair if she wasn't strapped down.

"Shut up." Crowley ordered coldly.

Ashleigh whimpered but didn't say another word and stared down at her lap, sobbing quietly.

"There, now. That's not too hard is it?" he said soothingly, reaching up and tucking a strand of blood mattered hair behind her ear.

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered, flinching at his touch and obviously afraid of being hit again.

"Because sweetheart, there's a hell spawn inside you that has certain information I want and I make it a habit to get what I want. So rather

unfortunately for you, if I have to carve the answers out of your flesh, I will."

This started more uncontrollable sobbing. "I'm going to die aren't I?" she whispered.

Sighing once more Crowley stood up and gripped his knife tightly. He couldn't help but feel jealous of Dean, whatever he was doing had to better than this.

"Yes. But if you're lucky, you'll die quickly."

Without hesitation he made the first slice and drew forth ear splitting shrieks of pain and pleading.

Chapter Text

Dean sighed and rubbed his eyes. One night of decent sleep was not nearly enough to make up for weeks of little to no sleep. Exhaustion mixed with seemingly never ending headache over was making his eyes sting. He didn't think he could take another minute riffling through crappy newspapers trying find the location of Lucifer. Well Bobby, Sam and Castiel were trying the locate Lucifer, Dean was trying to find proof of what Crowley had told him.

"This is hopeless, he could be anywhere." Sam grunted, slamming the lid of his laptop down.

Bobby sighed and sunk down in his chair, pushing the open book away from him angrily. Castiel threw the newspaper he was reading across the room with a huff and Dean watched them all sullenly.

"Six months ago he was sacrificing entire towns and now he's just….gone. Not a trace. It doesn't make any sense."

Dean focused on Bobby as his words sunk in. What would make someone who could quite literally anything just fall off the map? Someone who had absolutely nothing to fear?

"He's hiding." Dean muttered quietly, more to himself than anything.


"Bobby's right. Six months ago, a week didn't go by where we weren't hearing about something that was practically a neon sign pointing to Lucifer. But it's been weeks and we haven't found a thing."

Sam and Bobby looked at him like he stupid before Sam spoke. "Yes Dean, we've established that."

"Yeah but why? What's changed?."

Sam, Bobby and Castiel continued to look at Dean like he was a rambling idiot. They all just sat blinking at him and Dean waited for them to put the pieces together.

"Michael." he prompted when no one seemed to be getting it.

"Dean can we deal with one pissed off angel at a time?" Sam asked him, rolling his eyes and opening his laptop once more.

"Michael has his vessel, he has Adam. He's ready to fight. Lucifer is powerful but he's not as powerful as his big brother, not yet, not without Sam. He's hiding because if Michael finds him, especially in the state he's in, he will loose and he knows it." Dean explained, wondering why they hadn't realised it before.

"So what do we do? If Lucifer doesn't want to be found we don't have a chance in Hell." Bobby pointed out.

"We look for omens. Lucifer is so powerful, his presence is enough to mess with things. Crop failure, cattle deaths, funky weather. It'll be small, something we've probably skipped over."

"That's actually makes sense." Bobby muttered, riffling through his notes. "There's been some crop failure in Dakota, electrical storms in Virginia."

"Anything else?" Dean asked hopefully.

Bobby shook his head but paused when he glanced a tiny scribbled note in the margin. "Well there is something else buts it's probably nothing. The heat in a one mile block in Detroit has dropped by a few degrees."

"That's it. The devil's in Detroit."

"You sure? The electrical storm sounds more promising."

"No. He's in Detroit."

"How do you know?" Sam asked quietly, confusion flittering across his face.

Dean shrugged and stood up, making his way into the kitchen. "He always said it would happen in Detroit." To hide his eye roll at his own bullshit lie Dean opened the fridge as though his stomach wasn't tied up in knots from guilt. As if he could actually eat. He decided on a beer. It wasn't nearly as strong as what he really wanted but he'd recently come to the conclusion that his drinking was getting a little out of hand.

"Now we just have to find some demons so Sam can consume their blood." Castiel spoke up for Dean was pretty sure the first time in days.

Dean froze and spun around quickly, staring at Castiel with his mouth hanging open. He barely heard Sam's shocked questions and sunk into his own mind. Up until that moment Dean had held out some vague hope that they'd all get through this in one piece more or less, like they always did. Sure they would take some knocks along the way but in the end they always pulled through.

But hearing Castiel explain the need for Sam to drink massive amounts of demon blood in order to make him habitable for Lucifer made Dean fully accept for the first time that whatever happened in the next few hours, there was no coming back. Nothing would ever be the same, nothing would ever go back to the way it used to be. Sam would never come back from this, no matter if they win or loose, Sam would be gone.


Dean snapped out of his thoughts and pushed down the rising panic threatening to consume him. "Yeah Sam?" he was surprised at the roughness of his voice, as if he hadn't spoken in weeks.

"You know we still have a choice. If you've changed your mind, we'll find another way." Sam promised and Dean realised he mustn't have hidden his thoughts as well as he'd thought.

Dean snorted dryly, there was no humour in it and he hated the sound as soon as he made it. It made him sound bitter, but maybe he was.

"Sam, this is it. If we're going to do something, we have to do it now. It's the eleventh hour and this is the only plan we've got."

"Well that's all well and good but we still have to find some demons. We need blood now, we don't have time to just wander around and hope to stumble on a demon's nest." Bobby pointed out. Every bone in his body was telling him this was a bad idea but he pushed it away because lately he felt like that all the time.

Dean found the feeling in his legs again and walked back into the library, sitting down on the tattered leather chair he'd left earlier. He could feel his phone burning in his pocket. He knew exactly who could lead them to a demon's nest but he really didn't want to bring everyone's focus to his and Crowley's friendship, especially not when he could still feel the demon's sweaty body pressed against his own and the slight discomfort in his ass reminding him exactly what he'd done last night.

It also didn't help that the hickeys Crowley had left were rubbing against his shirt and making it hard for him to concentrate. Unfortunately Dean knew he couldn't let whatever was going on between him and Crowley get in the way of his job and with a sigh he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

"Crowley will be able to tell us where to find a nest of demons." he announced, breaking up Sam and Castiel's conversation.

Sam pulled a face and Dean could already see a argument forming on his tongue.

"Sam he can help."

"I don't trust him." Sam gritted out.

"Neither do I! But I don't distrust him either. Not until he gives me reason to and so far everything he's told us has panned out." Dean pushed.

"Except the Colt." Sam pointed out and Dean had to suppress the urge to punch him. Bringing up that was way out of bounds and Sam was doing it to be intentionally mean.

"We all thought the gun would work. We were all wrong." Dean muttered, doing his best to keep his anger under control. "Look Sam, there's a good chance this is the last day we'll spend together. Can we not spend it arguing over Crowley?"

Sam opened his mouth but snapped it shut when Bobby shot him a dirty look. Sighing he seemed to deflate and he sunk into his chair. "Of course, I'm sorry. We need all the help we can get."

Dean flicked open his phone and scrolled through his contacts before finding Crowley's.

"Oh that's nice. You have his number in your phone." Sam chirped and gave Dean a strained smile. Dean was surprised his eye didn't start twitching with the effort of keeping his opinion to himself.

You wouldn't happen to know the location of any demon nests would you?

Dean was surprised by how quickly Crowley responded, it took him just over thirty seconds.

Not that he was counting.

What's the matter lover? One demon not enough for you?


I don't like to share my toys.

Well isn't it a good thing I'm a person and not a toy.

I wouldn't be so sure about that. I played with you just fine last night.

You were adequate.

I made you scream like a whore. I was extraordinary.

You are so up yourself.

I'd rather be up you. Why do you need to know about demon nests? I hope you aren't going to do anything stupid.

Now does that sound like something I'd do?


We're going after the devil and Sammy needs some demonic energy drink.

Riverdale, Detroit. 39 Julimar st. there's a small demon nest.

How small?

4-5 demons. Enough to get the Moose buzzing.

Thank you.

You can thank me by not fucking this up.

Oh come one, you know me.

That positively fills me with confidence.

I have to go. Sam says thank you.

Of course he does. Tell him I hope he chokes.

Will do. Stay out of trouble.

Try not to die.

Dean was quite surprised at Crowley's round about way of telling him to be careful. He got the feeling the demon might actually be a bit sad if he died, a thought which made Dean ridiculously happy considering how small the gesture was.

I'll do my best.

It took a few moments before Dean could tear his eyes away from his phone, it really shouldn't be so easy to joke with Crowley. It shouldn't come so naturally.


Dean jerked his attention back to the room and saw Sam looking at him with a strange look on his face and Dean realised he was smiling stupidly at his phone. Schooling his face back to neutral he tucked his phone back in his pants.

"There's a nest five in Riverdale, Detroit." Dean answered, trying to deflect Sam's questions before he could ask them.

Bobby stood up and kicked Sam's leg lightly to get his attention. "Come on. We need to head out. This ends tonight.."

Dean stood up with Sam and headed upstairs to get his duffle bag while Sam, Bobby and Castiel packed the car. He kicked off his track suit pants and stuffed them back in his bag before slipping on a pair of worn jeans. He had just done up the button when he heard the soft pad of footfalls outside the room. Zipping the bag he threw it over his shoulder and turned around, expecting to see Sam ready to start bitching again about Crowley. What he didn't expect to see was Bobby leaning against the doorframe.

Bobby crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Dean in a way that gave Dean the uneasy feeling Bobby knew more than he let on. They stared at each other, each waiting for the other to speak first. Dean had a horrible feeling Bobby knew exactly what he had been doing because Bobby always knew but if he was wrong, he wasn't about to bring it up first.

Finally, Bobby sighed and his eyes drifted to where Dean's shirt had slipped down slightly, exposing his collarbone. "You know. Whatever you do in your personal life is your god damn business but if you don't want Sam to know, you're gonna have to hide it better."

Dean's hand flew up and pulled his shirt collar up and hiding the hickeys once more with a curse. His head was somewhere else and it was going to get him in trouble, if it hadn't already.

"I don't….."

"You don't have to tell me about it, just don't lie to me." Bobby cut him off before walking out if the room and leaving Dean standing there by himself.

He shook his head and rubbed a hand over his face. He was starting to resent the fact he was turning into a teenage girl who spent all day thinking about a boy, he couldn't let his personal life interfere with the job and he would deal with Bobby and what he knew later. Right now he had bigger things to worry about.


Crowley tucked his phone into his suit pocket with a sigh and did his best to ignore the twist of worry in his stomach. He hadn't felt worried for someone other than himself in a long time. He clicked his tongue and picked up the bloodied knife and cleaning it thoroughly, taking his time and enjoying the almost therapeutic action. Lifting the knife he examined it carefully, checking for any remaining spots of blood. The blade caught the reflection of the body laying behind him.

Christine hadn't lasted as long as he thought she would, however she did last long enough for the girl to die. Not that it mattered, he would have killed her anyway but that didn't mean the body wasn't a inconvenience. So not only did he have to dispose of a body he hadn't gotten any reliable information from Christine anyway.

Apparently Lucifer didn't trust demons anymore than the rest of his family did. The only solid piece of information he'd learned was something he already knew, all his safety houses were compromised. Sighed and put the knife down on the table and rubbed his face with a hand.

Things were getting out of hand. Everyday he was being backed further and further into a corner and he was starting to get nervous. He was a planner, always had been, he preferred to pull the strings and never be in the line of fire. He was out of his element, he didn't know what was going on and his soul was in the hands of a group of people who were all borderline alcoholics with a staggering amount of self-hatred and anger towards themselves. Staring down at the body once more before letting loose a high pitched whistle. After a moment he felt a hot puff of air against his thigh.

"Hello sweetheart."

There was a low growl in answer and Crowley responded with a quick rub on the head. He pointed to the girl and clicked his fingers. "Enjoy."

The massive Hell Hound stalked leisurely towards the body of the young girl and tore into the body without hesitation. He was scratching at the small spots of blood on his jacket when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, signalling the presence of someone else. He closed his eyes and swore silently to himself. He knew he shouldn't have kept Christine alive. Turning around slowly, he schooled his face into a cocky smile.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of you visit?"

Four demons stood in front of him side by side and blocking the only exit. A quick survey told him he couldn't smoke out of his body, something was holding him inside and he was stuck. His only option was to fight his way out and while that wasn't strictly a problem as he could easily overpower these bottom feeding demons it was one more issue he didn't need.


The largest of the demons muttered and Crowley suppressed an eye roll. Over the years he'd learnt that the weakest demons always chose the biggest meat suits.

"You have me at a disadvantage. You know who I am but I have no idea who you are."

"I'm the one who's going to bring you down and our father will shower me with praise."

Crowley raised a eyebrow and nodded along. "Wow. That all sounds very dramatic. Honestly now, how long did you practise that speech?"

"You're very cocky considering what's about to happen to you."

This time Crowley did roll his eyes, whoever this demon was he had obviously watched too many movies. Being a demon used to mean something, it used to come with respect but it was moron's like the one standing across from him that gave the others a bad name. Honestly, how were people supposed to take you seriously when you spoke like a B-grade movie villain?

"It's not being cocky when you can back it up. I'll rip your heart out." Crowley hissed, he didn't have time for games, he was too exposed here.

"That won't be necessary."

Crowley froze his entire body tensing up at the sound of the smooth voice coming from behind him. The goon squad in front of him looked at the person behind him in lovesick fascination and his Hell Hound was whimpering in the corner. Crowley knew who that voice belong to and for the first time in a very long time, pure fear coursed through his body. He turned around and being sure to keep his mask in place he faced a rather short man in old jeans and a shirt.


Lucifer smiled walked towards Crowley slowly and stopping when he was close. "Crowley…right?"

"You've heard of me. I'm flattered." Crowley replied. He was doing his best to appear calm but on the inside he was panicking. He wouldn't be able to talk his way out of this one.

"Don't be so surprised. Your efforts to have me killed have made you quite a big blip on my radar." Lucifer muttered dryly, crossing his arms over his chest and rocking back on the balls of his feet. "What I don't understand is why? For years demons, my children, have been on the bottom rung, pushed aside and forgotten. I'm trying to give a better world a world where you will rule."

"Oh don't give me that 'we are one' bullshit because I'm not buying what you're selling." Crowley snorted, he couldn't believe people actually bought Lucifer's spiel.

"How can you say that? I came back for you. I created you and I will give you the world."

Crowley had to admit, the angel sure knew how to play the game, the right words to say, the sad loom in his eyes. He was a excellent liar and he could understand how so many intelligent demons could fall for his promises and sweet words.

"You are so full of shit. You may have been able to convince the rest of my kind that you're our saviour but I haven't forgotten what you are."

"And what am I Crowley?"

"You're an angel. A twisted and demented angel but still an angel. And you hate us as much as the rest of your kind, if not more."

Lucifer's friendly façade fell and he stared at him stonily, jaw tensing in anger. "Leave." he gestured towards his goon squad who disappeared without a word.

"I see you have them well trained."

"Yes. You'd be surprised how eager they are to please me."

"Not really. Most demons are like Hell Hounds. Vicious and cruel but given a firm hand they do make rather excellent tools." Crowley felt more and more trapped the closer Lucifer became but he refused to let it show. He wouldn't give him the luxury of seeing him scared.

"You're smarter then the others. I'm impressed." Lucifer admitted thoughtfully. "You know, I was going to ask you the nice way. Flatter you, tell you I'll how important you are and that you're my most favourite demon in all the land. But I think I'll make an exception for you."

Crowley's eyes widened and he put a hand to his chest. "Really? Do you mean it? You'll make an exception for little 'ol me? Gosh I feel so special!"

Lucifer chuckled and the sound made Crowley shiver, it was a horrible sound.

"You're funny. I had wondered why Dean and Sam kept you around."

"I always thought it was because of my good looks and charming personality." he shrugged and pushed down the urge to back away when Lucifer moved closer towards him.

Lucifer reached up and straightened Crowley's tie with a smile. "I'm going to enjoy breaking you."

"I'm sure you would. But when you fail, try not to feel too bad. You're not the first."


Dean watched Sam and Bobby through the rear-view mirror with a growing knot of anxiety swelling in his stomach. He watched as they placed the large containers of blood in the boot and frowning at the thought of the stuff being in his baby. He couldn't believe what he had just done although it made having sex with Crowley seem like child's play in comparison.

Looking down at his hand he grimaced at the drying blood staining his skin. Wiping his hand roughly on his jeans he frowned again when it wouldn't come off and instead opened the glove box where he'd put the wet wipes Crowley had given him and used one to clean his hands. He scrubbed harder than necessary, disgust filling him.

Cursing quietly when he accepted the fact that no amount of scrubbing was going to make him feel any better he threw the wipe away and slouched in his seat, pulling out his phone and checking for any messages. In the past four hours he'd sent Crowley six texts in an attempted to keep him up to date but he hadn't gotten any responses.

He felt Castiel swift forward in his seat and hover over his shoulder, holding onto the head rest for balance. Dean was a bit worried about Castiel, he didn't think he was handling being human very well.

"How you holding up Cas?" Dean asked quietly. He needed to ask before Bobby and Sam got back in the car otherwise Castiel wouldn't answer truthfully.

"I was there at the beginning of mankind, you all had such promise. And yet I watched for millennia as you tore each other apart, you seem determined to drive your own species off a cliff." Castiel muttered in a matter of fact tone that always served to irritate Dean.

"Yeah I agree with you there."

"And yet oddly, I've never had more faith in humanity as I've had these past few months. You gave me my faith back Dean and for that I thank you."

Dean felt awkward at the display of affection, he didn't handle emotions well and the heavy feeling in Castiel's words and voice made him uncomfortable. "Uh….thank Cas. You've….um, kicked me back in line a few times as well."

There was a long silence and something heavy hung in the air before Castiel spoke hesitantly.

"Dean? Are we friends?"

"Yeah Cas…..we're friends."

"Then as your friend I must ask you cease your fraternisation with the demon Crowley."

Dean nearly choked on his saliva, his body shutting down at Castiel's words. He was angry at himself more than anything, in his own twisted way he was proud of his ability to hide his emotions and apparently he wasn't as good as he thought if Castiel, the master of being oblivious could see what was going on.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"I know I don't know much about being human and I can quite…..naïve about certain things but I'm not stupid. I see the way you look when you think about him and the way you defend him to your brother."

"Are you going to tell Sam?"

There was no reason to deny it. He didn't care if Castiel knew, he didn't even care that Bobby knew, it was his life and he was an adult. However he did care about Sam finding out, especially now. Sam couldn't afford to be distracted and angry when he mind wrestled with Lucifer, they needed him clear headed and that would go right out the window if Sam got wind of him and Crowley.

"As long as it doesn't interfere with our mission, there's no reason Sam has to know." Castiel promised eventually after a moment of silence.

"Thanks Cas."

"Just remember Dean, soon all this will be over one way or another and you will all go back to your original lives, Crowley included." Castiel warned, voicing one of Dean's worse fears.

"I'll deal with that when it happens."

Castiel was about to reply when Bobby and Sam entered the, causing him to loose his chance. The silence in the car was deafening as they all sat a contemplated what they were about to do.

"This is by far the stupidest thing we've ever attempted." Dean sighed and turned on the ignition. "Should be fun."

Chapter Text

They arrived at their destination in silence and moved quickly to get out of the car, now there was finally an end in sight none of them wanted to wait. With a quick look Dean told Bobby and Castiel to wait by the side of the car a he followed Sam to the boot. Sam opened the boot and Dean stared disdainfully at the bottles of demon blood. The clear plastic bottles were sticky with the congealed blood that had run over the sides and Dean felt dirty just thinking about having the disgusting substance in his baby.

"One last chance to back out." Sam muttered, staring at the blood nervously.

Dean watched him closely and noted that although Sam was biting his lip and frowning heavily, he could see the suppressed hunger in his eyes.

"Tell me you can do it." he answers instead.


"Tell me you can do it and I'll believe you."

Dean watched Sam closely and Sam held his eyes, both trying to judge what the other was thinking. Sam's eyes were sad but resigned and not for the first time Dean wished Sam didn't have to this.

"I can do this." Sam promised.

Dean believed him, Sam may be his little brother but he was capable of so much more than he ever gave him credit for.

He nodded and sighed heavily, staring once more at the contents of the boot sadly. "How did our lives ever get this fucked up?"

"Someone has to do it."

"Yeah but why us? We aren't the only hunters in the world, why is it our job? Why is it always our fucking job?" Dean demanded, sounding more bitter then he'd intended.

Sam looked at him in concern, eyebrows drawn together and lips drawn in a tight line. "Because Dean, this is our fault. You broke the first seal and I let the devil out of his box. This is our mess and we need to clean it up."

"Fuck, you're right. I know we need to fix this." Dean closed his eyes wearily and rubbed a hand over his face. He need a drink. "It's just….I cant believe I ever enjoyed doing this. You know I never understood why dad was so angry all the time, why he drank, why he never smiled and now I do."

"Are you alright Dean?"

The sound of worry in Sam's voice made Dean want to punch something and that, if nothing else, told him he wasn't alright. He considered lying to Sam and brushing off his worries but he just didn't have the energy for it, besides, what was the point? Why let the last conversation with his brother be a lie.

"No Sam, I'm not alright. I haven't been alright in a long time. I'm a borderline alcoholic who can only sleep when I'm so drunk I pass out."

Oddly he didn't feel any better for telling Sam the truth like he did Crowley. As much as he said otherwise he still didn't truly view Sam as an equal, not as he did Crowley. He also felt guilty because despite his decision otherwise, he had still lied to Sam. Although he did usually use alcohol as a way to fall asleep, he had slept perfectly the night before with Crowley and he wasn't sure if it was due to the company or the fact that the demon had fucked him silly. Probably a bit of both. Thinking of Crowley made Dean wonder why he hadn't answered any of texts and then he cursed himself for acting like a teenage girl.

"Dean, do mind going over there?" Sam asked hesitantly, gesturing over to where Bobby and Castiel were standing.

Dean cocked his head and looked at Sam in confusion, silently asking why.

"I don't want you to see this." Sam answered, shuffling his feet and avoiding eye contact.

Dean nodded and with a heavy sigh made his way over to Bobby and Castiel. Bobby turned to him and jerked his head in Sam's direction.

"Yeah, he's doing it." Dean muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"This is a dumb ass idea." Bobby growled, shaking his head.

"True. But which are our ideas ever not dumb ass ideas?"

Bobby sighed and rubbed his face tiredly, leaning heavily against the car. "We're so fucked."

Before Dean could answer, Sam pushed past them and started to walk over to the building. Dean swore and ran after him, a queasy feeling in his stomach at the sight of blood on Sam's lips and the fire burning in his eyes. He dimly heard Bobby yelling after him to be careful but he was too busy trying to keep up with Sam to answer. When they crossed the street and stood in the doorway, three demons stepped out from the shadows and surrounded them.

"We're here to see the big guy." Dean announced before Sam could do anything stupid. Sam needed to save his strength for the devil and he didn't need to waste it on three bottom feeding demons.

Dean grunted when rough hands grabbed his shoulders and pushed him through the door with Sam trailing behind him. It was nearly pitch black inside the building and although he was stumbling over his own feet, the demon holding onto him seemed to have no such problems and he made a mental note to ask Crowley if demons had some sort of freaky seeing in the dark powers. The building was freezing and the further they climbed up the stairs the colder it got, causing him to wish he'd worn a thicker jacket. He tripped and the hand on his left shoulder gripped his jacket collar to straighten him.

The demon's fingers skimmed the skin of his neck from the hold and Dean had to suppress the urge to pull away in revulsion. He chanced a glance behind him when the reached the first floor landing. Sam appeared to have calmed down since the initial boost of power from the demon blood and looked a little less crazy then he had five minutes ago.

They were shoved through a door to their right and as he as he took the derelict building Dean couldn't help but think Lucifer was a lot less prissy when it came to getting dirty than a lot of other angels or demons Dean knew. Dean's eyes automatically found Lucifer, standing next to the dirty window at the far end of the room.

Just being in the same room as him made Dean's stomach drop and fear to fizz through him. Lucifer was ridiculously powerful and Dean knew he could squash him like a bug with no effort what so ever. Lucifer scared him in ways nothing ever had, not Lilith, Alistair or yellow eyes.

"I knew you'd find me." Lucifer muttered, turning around to face them.

Dean's eyes widened when he saw the state Lucifer's vessel was in. Large lesions had appeared on his face, his skin peeling off like old wallpaper. "Well don't you look like shit."

"My vessel is showing some…wear and tear."

"Maybe you should try moisturiser?" Dean smirked, defaulting to sarcasm.

"Maybe you should try shutting your mouth before I do it for you?"

A burst of light came from each of the demon's eyes and they slumped to the floor as Sam brought the attention to him and not Dean. Dean stared at Sam in shock, he had no idea Sam was so powerful.

"I'm impressed Sam. You're stronger than I thought." Lucifer mused cocking his head to one side, showing no concern for the dead demon's littered around the room.

"I don't care what you thought. I want this over!"

Lucifer narrowed his eyes before a smirk spread across his face slowly. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"I'm here to say yes. On one condition." Sam glared and Dean was impressed at his ability to retain eye contact for so long.

"Anything for you Sammy."

"Leave Dean alone. Same goes for Bobby and Cas."

"Ah yes, Castiel. How is he? I hear he's human now."

"Do we have a deal?"

Sam was practically ignoring Lucifer and Dean could see he didn't like that at all. Lucifer wasn't used to being ignored. Dean didn't like how this was going. Lucifer wasn't surprised to see them which gave Dean the uncomfortable feeling that he knew they were coming. He didn't like the knowing look in his eyes and he definitely didn't like the angry look in his eyes.

"Why do you feel the need to lie to me Sam? I don't like being lied to. I know about the rings."

Dean felt his muscles go weak and his legs nearly gave out. He knew. Lucifer fucking knew which meant they were well and truly screwed. When he managed to focus his attention back to the present he saw the enjoyment Lucifer was getting from their shock. Lucifer moved across the room and stopped when he was in front of them, much closer then Dean was comfortable with.

Although being on the same plane of existence was closer than Dean was comfortable with. Lucifer switched his attention to Dean and clenched his jaw. Dean knew that meant trouble, he'd never seen Lucifer as anything other than calm and collected but the mask was slipping.

"You know Dean, you have turned out to be a much bigger pain in the ass than I'd originally thought."

"What can I say? It's a talent."

"Would you like to see one of my talents?"

He sincerely doubted it.

With a snap of his fingers two more demons appeared. They were standing side by side holding a body between them. The body was hunched over and Dean couldn't see he face but he didn't have to, he knew who it was.

"Crowley." he whispered almost involuntarily.

Crowley was a mess and had been tortured extensively. His suit jacket had been lost and his shirt was ripped open and hanging loose, cover in blood. Large gashes covered his chest and were still weeping blood. From the odd angle of his right arm Dean would guess it was dislocated and at least five of his fingers looked broken. Crowley was barely conscious and Dean knew the only thing keeping him upright were the two demons holding him. Lucifer shot the demons a look and they disappeared without a word, leaving Crowley to drop to the floor with a grunt.

Before Dean's mind could catch up with his body he was already at Crowley's side. He crouched down and did his best to arrange Crowley so he was sitting upright. Thankfully the drop appeared to have shaken Crowley out of his stupor and he much was more alert.

"Shit." Dean muttered, taking in Crowley black eye and blood smeared face.

"You told him! You told him about the rings, I knew we shouldn't have trusted you!" Sam yelled angrily.

"For fucks sake Sam! Look at him, he's a fucking mess. Does he look like he told him anything by choice?" Dean yelled in return.

"Dean's right Sam. Your pet demon didn't tell me anything. He's oddly loyal." Lucifer shrugged.

Dean couldn't control his breathing and was gasping for air as he stared horrified at the mess Crowley was in, by all rights he should be dead. He was so focused on Crowley that he didn't notice Lucifer's gaze on them or the following frown.

"Are you ok?" Dean asked when Crowley's eyes fluttered open.

"Do I fucking look ok?" Crowley hissed, pushing himself into a sitting position and hissing when the movement made the shredded skin of his chest pull painfully. He looked at Dean and saw the worried look directed at him and he sighed. "I'll live. Stop worrying, you'll get wrinkles."

"Stop worrying? You look like you've just gone six rounds with a werewolf."

"I'm stronger than I look darling." Crowley promised but the way his head kept dropping onto Dean's shoulder told a different story.

Both were oblivious to the look being directed at them. Lucifer's eyebrows were raised and a spark of understanding was slowly appearing in his eyes. Sam was too busy reeling from the knowledge that Lucifer knew of their plan and the only upper hand they had was gone. But it didn't matter, the plan would still work.

"None of this matters. I'm still saying yes."

"Sam, No!" Dean yelled, pulling his attention away from Crowley at Sam's words.

"This is the only plan we have Dean. Him knowing changes nothing!"

"Oh course it changes things!"

"This is our one shot Dean." Sam whispered, shrugging his shoulder sadly.

Dean opened his mouth to respond when he took a deep breath and closed his mouth. He glanced over at Crowley who gave him small nod. Dean sighed again and looked at Sam closely. "Do it."

Sam swallowed and stiffened his jaw before turning back to Lucifer and nodding. "Yes."

Lucifer smirked and Dean's stomach clenched, Lucifer was getting exactly what he wanted and that fact made Dean feel dirty.

"I'd close my eyes if I were you." Crowley murmured into Dean's ear.

Dean shivered as the hot breath ghosted across his skin and gave him goosebumps. He cursed himself for the response, now was not the time or the place to turning into a gooey eyed school girl. Thankfully he snapped his eyes shut just in time but the white still burned his eyes and he buried his face in Crowley's shoulder.

After the blast wave had passed Dean pulled away and opened his eyes. For a moment he thought he'd gone blind but after a few rapid blinks his vision came back with a few lingering white blotches like he'd spent too long looking at the sun. His scanned the room quickly and found Sam's body crumpled on the floor with the Devil's old vessel not far from him. Dean felt a twinge of sympathy for the poor bastard Lucifer had been walking around in, hopefully he'd been killed instantly and hadn't had to watch all the horrific things Lucifer had done in the past few months.

Crowley shifted beside him and flinched when the movement pulled on his wounds. Dean's worry for Crowley returned but he couldn't tear his attention away from his brother. Was he alright? Did this mean he was winning? What was he supposed to do? Could he help? Not for the first time in the past few months he was slapped in the face with the fact that he was in way over his head. He didn't know what to do, he didn't know how to help and he didn't know how to fix it. He hadn't been this helpless, this unsure since being a child.

"What do we do?" he asked finally.

"We wait until he wakes up and see who's in the drivers seat. I can think of a few things we could do to pass the time."

Dean snorted which nearly turned into a giggle when Crowley licked his neck. "My brother is unconscious a few feet away and you look like you've gone six rounds with a Hell Hound. Not exactly the conditions I look for when I'm horny."

"But you do admit you're horny?"

"Shove it."

"I can think of one place in particular I'd like to shove it."

"This is so inappropriate."

"I specialise in being inappropriate."

Dean whined as Crowley bit at his jaw. God what was wrong with him? As soon as Crowley came near him all self control went out the window. Here he was, leaning against a wall with his half dead almost-lover in a room with four dead bodies and his unconscious little brother and all he could think about was pushing Crowley to the ground and fucking him senseless.

He was seriously fucked up. However knowing that didn't stop him from twisting his neck and capturing Crowley's lips in a harsh, wet kiss that made his head swim. He refrained from pushing Crowley to the ground, mindful of the demon's wounds. Crowley was less gentle and slid his hand up to the back of Dean's head and gripped his hair painfully tight, tugging roughly and pulling little whimpers from Dean.

"I'm sorry. Am I interrupting something?"

They sprung apart and stared up at Sam who sometime during their kiss had woken and was looking at them with one raised eyebrow. Well not Sam, not anymore. Dean knew it wasn't his brother at first glance, he saw the hatred and contempt in his little brother's eyes and he knew it was Lucifer and his heart sank.

"You know, this really is rather exciting. Tell me Dean, how long have you been the demon's whore?" Lucifer asked and that look crossing Sam's face made Dean want to vomit.

"Better a demon's whore than Michael's little bitch. Which consequently is what you're going to be when Michael is done with you." Dean shrugged.

"And he does make such a pretty little whore." Crowley purred, stroking a finger down Dean's face with a smirk, enjoying Dean's shiver and Lucifer's disgusted scrunch of his nose.

"If you're going to kill us. Do it." Dean snapped, he didn't like feeling like a toy Crowley used to make people uncomfortable.

Lucifer rolled his eyes and moving quicker than the size of Sam's body would suggest it was capable of, pulled Dean up and stuck his hand into Dean's jacket pocket. Dean didn't even bother to struggle as Lucifer took the Horseman's rings from him.

"And people say I'm dramatic." Lucifer muttered as he straightened Dean's jacket. "I'm not going to kill you. Not yet at least."


"Because you still have hope. I can see it in your eyes. And I want to take that from you before you die."

Dean blinked and Lucifer was gone, leaving him alone with Crowley and the bone crushing defeat.

"We are so fucked." he muttered, staring at the empty space where Lucifer had been.

"You only just figured that out?"

Chapter Text

Dean wasn't too sure how he managed to get back down to the street with Crowley hanging off him limp as a doll. He was moving on auto pilot, survival mode kicking in while his mind struggled to comprehend exactly what had just happened. Well that and it probably didn't help that he could feel Crowley's hot breath on his neck and his warm body pressed tightly against his own. The fact that Crowley was letting Dean practically carry him with no fuss made warning bells go off in Dean's head. The demon must be hurt more than he let on and Dean was ridiculously concerned. What am doing? The world in literally ending and I'm more concerned about my demon lover.

But then again, that was a future problem whereas there was a very real possibility that Crowley would die within the next few moments. Crossing the street and ignoring the confused looks from Castiel and Bobby he used his free hand and opened the Impala door and kicking it open with his foot. He would deal with Bobby and Castiel after he'd put Crowley down before he dropped the demon on his bleeding half-conscious ass. Twisting them around he managed to shuffle and shift Crowley onto the back seat with minimal hissings of pain and half muttered cursing.

"What the fuck is going on?" Bobby asked finally when Dean continued to ignore him. "Why the fuck is he here and where the fuck is Sam?"

Castiel watched Dean carefully before sighing and closing his eyes in resignation. "Sam is gone. Lucifer has won and the apocalypse begins."

Bobby stopped yelling abruptly at Castiel's little announcement and looked at Dean for confirmation. Dean sighed and nodded. The silence that followed was deafening, no one knowing what to say that they didn't already know. The time for false hope and pep talks were over, everyone knew they had lost and the cost of their failure hung heavy in the air.

"As wonderfully depressing as this little self-pity party is, I would prefer not to bleed to death in the back of this piece of shit car."

It didn't surprise Dean in the slightest that Crowley was the one to break the silence and with a wince of sympathy and a spike of annoyance at Crowley's description of his baby, he moved to the boot and pulled out what passed for a first aid kit. He did his best to ignore the dried clotted demon blood on the remaining plastic bottles.

"Bobby can you clean him up?" Dean asked, throwing the first aid kit at Bobby who caught it with a frown.

"Why don't you do it? He's your demon." Bobby pointed out, throwing the pack back to Dean.

"You're better at it than I am."

"You're more than capable of stitching up some knife wounds."

The pack went pack and forth between them, neither willing to give up. Dean could see from the look on Bobby's face that he wanted to know why Dean wouldn't do it and the truth was he couldn't deal with seeing Crowley ripped open and bleeding. With loosing Sam and the weight of his failure sitting on his shoulders, seeing the damage down to someone he was beginning to care for deeply would push him over the edge.

"Somebody had better fucking stitch me up!" Crowley hissed, pain showing clear on his face despite his best efforts not to let it.

Bobby sighed and rolled his eyes with a huff. He made his way over the Crowley while Dean leaned against the car, watching Crowley's face silently. At Bobby's request and with much swearing, Crowley took off his tattered shirt and bared his chest, his eyes meeting Dean's worried ones.

"Are you worried about me sweetheart?" Crowley muttered teasingly, sucking in a breath when Bobby poured alcohol onto the gashes.

Although he didn't find it funny in the slightest, Dean wasn't surprised be Crowley's attitude. They were much more alike than anyone realised, both defaulted to smartass when they were scared or hurt and Dean could see right through Crowley's cocky smile.

"Yes." he murmured in reply to the demon's question, not bothering to lie. He was way past lying and he couldn't care less what Bobby or Castiel thought.

The cockiness in Crowley's face flickered, surprise at Dean's answer knocking Crowley off his game. Dean wasn't sure if he was surprised my his honesty or the fact that Dean cared enough about him to worry.

If the tables were turned, would he show the same concern? Probably not. That knowledge hurt more than it should.

They stared at each other and Dean could sense something unspoken between them, he just wasn't sure what. It might have something to do with the awkward glances from Bobby and Castiel, both of them feeling they were intruding on something.

With Bobby's expertise Crowley was stitched and bandaged quickly, looking much better when he was no longer covered in blood and some colour was entering his cheeks once more. Dean had the impression that Crowley had been through much worse before and it confirmed the idea that Crowley had been through a lot to get to where he was. He knew what it was like to be on the bottom of the food chain and fight your way up.

"So what happens now?" Dean broke the silence finally.

Castiel cocked his head like he didn't understand the question and Dean resisted the urge to slap him, he wasn't in the mood to deal with Castiel's inability to understand the simplest of questions.

"Now? Nothing happens now Dean, it is over. We've lost." Castiel explained, resigned to his fate.

"What do mean nothing? Sam is still out there! Lucifer is still out there!" Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"I am aware of that! Why are you so surprised? You knew what would happen if we failed!"

"It's not over!"

"Of course it is. We had one play, one chance and we failed. You failed." Castiel said sadly.

Dean hadn't seen him this deflated since God had abandoned him. "I'm sorry Cas but no. I'm not giving up. I can't live with that."

"Well that won't be a problem because it is very unlikely you'll live much longer." Castiel shrugged.

"Well aren't you just a little ray of sunshine?" Crowley snapped.

Bobby glared up at him and pulled harder than necessary on a stitch.

Crowley narrowed his eyes and gave Bobby a look that made even Dean a little uneasy. "Ow." he hissed.

Castiel rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Dean.

"So what do you suggest we do? Tuck our tails between our legs and hide?" Dean asked, angry that Castiel was so prepared to just give in.

Although maybe that's another difference between humans and Angels. No matter how much like a human he acts, Castiel is first and foremost an Angel.

"I suggest you spend you last few hours doing whatever makes you happy. But going after Lucifer is a suicide mission and I want no part in it." Castiel sighed, avoiding eye contact.

Dean stared at him in disbelief, betrayal churning in his stomach. He squared his jaw and looked at Bobby. Bobby hesitated and looked away, refusing to meet his eyes.

"We always knew there was never much hope."

He stepped back and bit his lip to refrain from yelling. He couldn't make Bobby or Castiel do something they didn't want to do however after all they'd been through together; especially him and Bobby he found it hard to accept the fact they'd just let Sam suffer alone.

"So that's it? I'm on my own?"

Bobby finished patching Crowley up and backed away, standing next to Castiel. Dean glanced over at him and felt some of his worry lift. Now that he was cleaned up and covered in clean white bandages, his injuries seemed less threatening.

"Well I'm going to find Sam. If I'm going to die anyway, I'm going to die with my brother." he grunted, opening the car door, using more force than necessary.

Before he slipped into the drivers seat he glanced back at Crowley who had made no move to get out the car.

"Do you need help?" he asked hesitantly.

"Fuck off. I'm more than capable of moving myself." Crowley grunted before sinking into the leather chair and buttoning what was left of his tattered shirt.

It took Dean a moment to grasp what Crowley was saying. "So you're coming with me?"

Crowley didn't speak, his answer came in the form of him reaching out and closing the car door. Dean smiled softly and slipped into the car. Maybe Crowley cares more than he likes people to think?


Dean slipped in between Crowley's legs awkwardly, the gap between the back seat and the drivers seat smaller than he'd thought and he had little space to move. His body was tingling in anticipation and nerves. He'd never given a blow job before, but then he remembered he'd never had anyone inside him before Crowley and that had turned out to be one of the most amazing experiences of his life.

He needed this, needed to feel close to someone; even if that someone was Crowley. He needed to feel alive and wanted and taken care of. Needed to be reminded when he even bothered anymore.

He was still staring at the shiny black belt when he felt a hand twisting through his short hair, stroking softly and offering as much comfort as Crowley was capable of and although it wasn't much the thought behind the action made Dean's heart stutter. He smiled and unbuckled the belt easily, pulling the demon's pants off as quickly as he could while still being gentle. The bleeding had finally stopped and he didn't want to jostle him unnecessarily.

"I've always wondered what this would be like." Dean mumbled, curious to see Crowley's cock up close.

It was just like the rest of him, short but stocky. Not particularly long but more than made up for it in girth. Swallowing his nerves he reached out and grasped the semi hard cock firmly. The feel wasn't anything new, he was a male with previous experience with males so a hard cock wasn't anything new however the knowledge of what he was about to do with it was.

"Shit!" Crowley groaned as his throbbing cock hit cold air. He wasn't used to the how attracted he was to Dean. For him sex was usually a way to release tension, something fun to do for a bit but with Dean he could feel curling's of affection.

Dean just smiled and wrapped his hand around the base of the cock, before licking a small bead of pre-cum off the tip and moaning at the taste. He'd prepared himself for something unpleasant but god that was a good taste. Wrapping his mouth around the head and hollowing his cheeks, he did his best to suckle the hard flesh while keeping his teeth away. He knew from experience how painful teeth could be.

His hand squeezed and caressed the base and the shaft, drawing Crowley closer and closer to orgasm. He groaned when he heard the hungry slurping noises coming from Dean and knew he wouldn't last long. It had been a long time since anyone had sucked his cock with as much excitement as the man between his legs, what he lacked in practise he made up for in enthusiasm.

"Dean I . . . . " he tried to warn him, he really did because he knew if he just came in hiss mouth without warning Dean would be less likely to do it again. Unfortunately he waited to long and he exploded into Dean's mouth with a deep grunt.

Dean just hummed and swallowed as mush as he could, some flowing down onto his chin. Crowley rubbed Dean's hair as a way of thanks. Dean sighed and rested his on the sweaty thigh to his right, allowing the now soft cock to fall from his mouth with a quiet plop. He was drifting off, all thoughts of his problems floating away when he was bought back to reality with a sharp tug to his hair.

"Ow! What was that for?" he asked angrily, looking up at Crowley with a frown.

"Get your ass up here." Crowley ordered as an answer, pulling on Dean's hair again.

Dean slapped his hand away and rolled his eyes. He considered refusing and remaining on the floor just to be difficult, taking orders from anyone; even Crowley made him bristle. However he did want to get off the floor as it was uncomfortable and they did need to get going again if they were to make it to the cemetery on time so with a huff he stood up as best he could in the cramped space.

Crowley reached up and grabbed his shirt roughly, pulling him down so he was forced to straddle him. His arms shot out to steady himself and stop their chests from colliding, he didn't want to burst Crowley's stitches. Their faces were inches apart, their warm breaths mingling together. Removing a hand from the leather seat he ran a hand through Crowley's thinning and enjoying the intimate moment before cupping a cheek and shifting up to capture his thin lips in a kiss.

Crowley's hand snaked between them and groped Dean through his pants, massaging the bulge there harshly and dragging a whimper from Dean. With a practised move Crowley unzipped Dean's jeans efficiently and wrapped his finger around the throbbing length he found there. Dean cursed and arched back, the feeling of Crowley touching him making his mind go blank.

"Lean forward." Crowley panted after successfully pulling their mouths apart.

Dean was too desperate to argue and leaned forward, resting his head on the demon's shoulder. The hand around him continued to twist and he thrust into the fist. He could feel Crowley's erection pressing into the curve of his ass through his jeans and that feeling alone was nearly enough to push him over the edge.

What did push him over the edge however was when Crowley moved up his cock and played with his slit teasingly before rubbing a thumb roughly underneath the head. His hips jerked wildly and shot his cum between them as he grunted against Crowley's neck. When his orgasm passed he went completely limp, his muscles turned into jelly and he mouthed lazily at the salty skin. He was reached in between them to return the favour when Crowley stopped him.

"Sorry darling. We don't have the time for another round."

Dean snorted put pulled away and grimacing as his cum stuck them together. "I still have those wet wipes you gave me in the boot." he laughed, seeing Crowley pull his face at the mess between them.

"I'll clean us up. You figure exactly where the fuck we're supposed to be going."

He snapped the phone shut with a snap and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Knowing as prophet came in handy, even though it usually caused more trouble than it was worth.

"The final hoedown is happening at Stull Cemetery. Noon." Dean muttered for Crowley's benefit. He waited for any sign that the demon had heard him and when he received none he sighed and asked the question that had bothered him for the past three hours. "Why are you doing this?"

He had expected Crowley to brush it off or give him a sarcastic half answer so he was shocked when he received an actual answer.

"I put my money on the losing horse. What's the expression? I made my bed and now I have to sleep in it."

"I thought all demon's were cowards?" That came out more bitter than he had intended and he winced at the harshness of his words.

"You call it cowardice, I call it self preservation. And usually you'd be right, usually I'd run."

"But not this time?"

"Where on Earth, Heaven or Hell could I possibly hide where Lucifer couldn't find me?"

"You hid before." Dean pointed out, looking at Crowley through the rear view mirror.

"He didn't have Sam before."

Dean made a noise of agreement but otherwise stared blankly ahead.

"Where's your at head Dean?" Crowley asked him suddenly, noticing Dean was a thousand miles away.

"I never thought it would end like this you know. I always knew I'd die young but I thought it would be something more ordinary. I thought I'd end up getting my heart ripped out by an angry spirit although lately drinking myself to death looked like it was becoming more and more likely." Dean admitted softly

"Some people are made for greatness."

Dean snorted at Crowley's sarcasm, thankfully Crowley wasn't going to allow him to wallow in his own self pity. His part in this completely messed story wasn't over yet and he didn't have the luxury of falling apart, no matter how much he wanted to.

There was a long silence where Dean stared at the open road and Crowley stared at Dean; both thinking very different things. Dean was trying to think of exactly what he was going to do when they made it to the cemetery while Crowley was wondering what that feeling was in the pit of his stomach whenever he caught Dean's eyes.

No that was a lie. He knew what that feeling was, what he didn't know was what he was going to do about it. He wanted Dean, that much was certain. He wanted him in ways he hadn't thought of since being human. He made him feel things, dangerous things. Things that made him weak, made him vulnerable. From the first time he met the older Winchester he knew he needed to keep his distance, knew Dean could destroy everything he'd worked so hard for. Unfortunately Crowley had never been good at denying himself something he wanted, consequences be damned.

"Fergus." he muttered finally.

Dean tore his eyes away from the road and looked at the demon in confusion. "What?"

"Not long ago you asked me what my name was back when I was human. Fergus. Fergus Roderick McLeod." he explained.

"You're Scottish?" Dean asked, a smile spreading across his face. That's much more of a turn on then it should be.

"I was. A long time ago."

"Fergus." Dean muttered as though tasting the word and seeing how it fit. "Hmmmmm…..I like Crowley better. It suits you." he announced suddenly and drawing a genuine laugh from the demon.

"Yes, I rather thought so when I chose it." Crowley chuckled deeply.

Dean laughed with him, enjoying the small moment. "You always make me laugh you know, even when you're saying something completely inappropriate."

"I'm a demon of many talents."


Dean used what was left of his strength to pull himself back and away from Lucifer as he advanced. His backed into a tombstone and he used it for support. Hot pain made his vision blurry. Or maybe that was the black eye? For someone who had the power to pop Castiel like a meat balloon, Lucifer really enjoyed beating the shit out of him. Dean was sure he had a few broken ribs, broken jaw and probably more but it was hard to tell when his entire body was throbbing.

Stull Cemetery looked to be the definition of a haunted graveyard. Over the years Dean had been in a lot of cemeteries and had stopped being scared by them as a child, however driving through the gates of that cemetery made him feel queasy. His well honed instincts were screaming at him, warning him of the danger just over the hill.

And yet again he found himself ignoring all of those instincts; something he'd been doing a lot lately. Lucifer and Michael came into view or was it Sam and Adam? It was all very confusing and it made his head hurt. With a quick glance back at Crowley he stepped out of the car and then it had all gone to hell.

He looked over at Bobby and mourned the loss of the closest thing he had to a dad. He'd been so angry at him, at Castiel too but in the end they had shown up. They had come through for him and they'd died for it. A small part of him wondered if Michael would be popping up again anytime soon. Castiel's little holy oil bomb couldn't last much longer but then he remembered that is wasn't really his problem because he'd be dead in a few minutes.

"I have never met anyone who caused as much disruption as you." Lucifer hissed. "You have been a never ending thorn in my side." With a wave of his hand, Crowley was thrown into the tombstone next to Dean so they were side by side. "I have to admit, your little tryst with the demon scum was a surprise."

"You know this name calling is getting a little bit hurtful." Crowley muttered, shifting against the tombstone with a wince. His stitches had come undone and he was bleeding again.

Lucifer ignored Crowley in favour of stepping closer to Dean. "Any last words?"

Dean swallowed and tried to think of something witty and funny to say but for the first time in his life he couldn't think of anything to say. It was a novel experience and he didn't like it. Without thinking he reached out and latched onto Crowley's arm. If he was going to die he was going to take what little comfort he could find. Crowley's free hand reached up and grabbed his wrist before entwining their finger together and squeezing tightly.

"Are you holding my hand?" Dean huffed out a small laugh.

"Keep your mouth shut or I'll let go." Crowley growled. "By the way…this is going to hurt."

Before he could ask exactly what was going to hurt, Lucifer rolled his eyes and leaned down to grab Dean by the jacket, pulling him into a standing position roughly. Dean winced and grunted in pain at the rough treatment and the head splitting pain of his broken ribs but he refused to give Lucifer the pleasure of hearing him cry out.

However he did yell when he went flying through the air and crashing to the ground, barely missing a tombstone. The pain was blinding and he nearly blacked out but he managed to keep conscious. Lucifer however was not so lucky, having gone flying through the air with him he hit his head on the same tombstone Dean had missed. Although unlike Dean, Lucifer didn't look to be getting up anytime soon.

"What the fuck Crowley! What the fuck was that?" Dean yelled, voice cracking. His head was spinning and he couldn't grasp what had actually happened.

Crowley was still slouched against the tombstone and shrugged. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy that."

"Are you out of your fucking mind? How did you even do that?"

He stood up and held his broken ribs protectively, waiting for Crowley to answer. They had been thrown twenty feet and Lucifer was out cold. He looked at Crowley and for the first time he understood just how powerful the demon was. At his best Dean was willing to bet Crowley was strong than Lilith, yellow eyes and Alistair.

"Could you do that the entire time? Why did you wait?"

"I only had enough left in me for one hit. Didn't want to waste it."

"Waste it? So you knocked him out, he's gonna wake up and he's gonna be pissed!"

"You moron. I'm giving Sam another chance to take back control of the wheels." Crowley rolled his eyes his tone of voice suggesting Dean was an idiot.

Before Dean could reply with a few choice words of his own, Michael reappeared and looking ready to rein down all the wrath he was capable of.

"Dean." Michael hissed in a way that sounded more like an accusation then anything else.

Dean rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Michael in case you can't see, my demon lover and I are having a little discussion. And I can only deal with one dickhead at a time so wait your turn."

Michael raised an eyebrow and Dean could see he was ruffled at Dean's words. The arch-angel obviously wasn't used to be spoken to with disrespect.

"Your arrogance is mind boggling! You have no idea what I could do to you!"

"There are plenty of things in this universe that can kill me, you just have fancy ways of doing it. You're no better than any other evil son of bitch I've gone up against. No. Actually….you're worse because you actually think you're one of the good guys."

Michael opened his mouth to answer but snapped it shut when he noticed Lucifer's unconscious body. "What did you do to my brother?"

"Oh Lucy? He's just having a little beauty nap." Dean shrugged, trying to buy some time.

"If he's hurt in any way…"

"You'll what? What could you possibly threaten me with that wasn't already going to happen to me?"


Dean had never been so happy to hear Sam's voice. At least I hope it's Sam.


Sam sat up and put a hand to his head. He was pale and breathing heavily and with a struggle he pushed himself off the ground.

"Oh god Dean. He's so strong. You have no idea what this feels like."

"That's not possible." Michael whispered, eyes wide and Dean would swear he could see worry in his eyes.

"Sam it is you right?" Dean asked hesitantly, not daring to hope that their was a chance of succeeding.

"Yeah. I got him." Sam reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the Horseman rings, snapping Michael back into action.

"No! I won't you do this Sam."

Michael stepped towards Sam and Dean acted on instinct, tackling Michael to the ground. Thankfully he'd managed to catch the angel off guard and they hit the floor with a thump. Sam took the chance to throw the rings on the ground and open the cage but not before Michael broke Dean's nose.

"Fucking hell!" Dean swore loudly as more pain blossomed across his face and blood erupted from his nose.

Through the blood he could see Michael charge Sam.

Time stood still.

Sam was looking at him, hands tangled in Michael's jacket and then he was falling. Dean watched the spot where Sam and Michael had been seconds before. He was numb, his brain struggling to comprehend exactly what had happened.

Lucifer was gone.

Michael was gone.

Sam was gone.


Chapter Text

Dean stood staring at the place where Sam had disappeared along with Michael. He was capable of doing little more than blinking dumbly at the empty space. He was too distracted to notice Castiel come up behind him and touch his shoulder. What he did notice was the unexpected and complete relief from pain. It should have raised some questions for him to see the recently dead angel standing next to him, or at least some shock but he was still too numb to care. Reaching a hand up to touch his face he found his nose was no longer broken, his eye wasn't swollen and judging by the fact he could breath without pain, his ribs were healed.

"You got your mojo back." it wasn't a question, more of a statement but he knew Castiel would answer anyway.


Dean nodded and glanced over to where Bobby's body was. "Too bad you can't….." Who moved Bobby?

"Can't what?"

Dean spun around and felt the breath leave his body. "Bobby."

He lunged at Bobby, pulling him into a crushing hug. Sam might be gone but he wasn't completely alone. He still had some family left. He still had Bobby.

"A touching as this is, do you think I could get some touched by an angel action?" Crowley asked, bringing Dean's attention away from Bobby.

"No." Castiel answered quickly.

"Cas. Fix him up." Dean ordered. There was no point leaving Crowley in pain when Castiel was more than capable of healing him.

Castiel opened his mouth to argue but a look from Dean stopped him. Sighing heavily he maybe his way or to Crowley who had managed to push himself off the ground and was standing on shaky legs. Looking away from him and making it perfectly clear he didn't want to be doing it, Castiel reached out and placed one finger on the demon's forehead.

Crowley made a noise of relief as all his injuries were healed and Castiel smiled tightly while Dean pretended not to notice Castiel wiping his finger on his pants.

"So what do we do now?" Bobby asked hesitantly.

Dean paused and thought for a moment. What were they supposed to do now? What was he supposed to do now? His brother; his best friend and the one constant in his life was gone and would never be coming back, but that was something he'd push down and deal with at a later date. Castiel had his magic angel powers back and Dean doubted he'd be hanging around now. And to top if all off, the one thing that was keeping Crowley on their side was gone and he would probably leave with it.

"I must return to heaven. My brothers and sisters will be confused and needing guidance." Castiel announced.

"So you're just leaving? Have you forgotten everything those douche bags put us through? Put you through?" Dean huffed, shocked at Castiel's words.

"They're soldiers Dean. They did what they were told to."

"Oh and that makes it alright?"

"Stop arguing! You two are acting like something good didn't just happen. We just saving the world!" Bobby cut in, shutting them up before it could escalate.

Castiel made a face but backed down with a shrug. "I have to go. News of Lucifer and Michael's demise will already be spreading."

He disappeared in a flutter leaving Dean to shake his head.

"I have to go too." Crowley said, drawing attention to himself.

Dean wanted to tell him not to go, he wanted to scream that he couldn't leave him; not now. Not after he'd just lost his brother but he didn't. He didn't have any right to tell Crowley what to do and he didn't want to step out of bounds. He still wasn't sure exactly what they were doing.

What he did know was that he had based his decision to get involved with Crowley on the fact that he would be dead before he had to face any of the consequences. But he had survived, he had a future again and he had to decide whether he wanted the demon in his life. Stop lying to yourself. You know you want him.

No. He couldn't admit it because if he did, it would hurt so much more when Crowley got tired of him and left. And he would get tired eventually. Demons couldn't feel love, they didn't feel normal human emotions and just as Dean had reminded himself before; Crowley was first and foremost a demon.

"Of course. I'm sure you have business to take of. Thanks for all the help." Dean muttered, avoiding eye contact and pretending he couldn't see Bobby's sympathetic look.

Crowley cocked his head and rolled his eyes. "Come here."

Dean wanted to refuse, he really did but he was slowly finding out he didn't have the power to deny Crowley anything. Closing the gap between them he grunted when Crowley reached out and grabbed his jacket, pulling them together.

"Don't look so fucking miserable. I'm not disappearing on you." Crowley promised, wrapping an arm tightly around Dean's waist.

"Your not?" Dean asked hesitantly, relaxing into Crowley's hold.

"What can I say? I'm invested."

Crowley's free hand sneaked up and curled around the back of Dean's neck, pulling them into a kiss. Dean sunk into the touch, basking in the loving touch. God he needed this. The kiss was slow and soft, neither fighting for dominance and just enjoying the moment. Groaning loudly, Dean lifted a hand to stroke the rough line of Crowley's jaw, obviously the demon hadn't shaved in a while and it made his stomach flip. Dean was desperate for air but before he could reluctantly pull away, Crowley disappeared and leaving Dean panting and staring at open air.

"Why can't you just admit you love him?" Bobby asked quietly.

"I don't love him." Dean muttered, not sure if he was trying to convince himself or Bobby.

"You're a shitty liar."

"Yeah I know."


Dean grunted and buried his face further into his pillow. All he wanted to do was sleep but his body was refusing, apparently it didn't like sleeping constantly. And he had been sleeping a lot. Since Sam had gone, Dean had been two places; the bed and the bathroom with Bobby bringing him food twice a day. He heard the bedroom door open and waited for Bobby to throw a energy bar at him like he did every afternoon but it never came.

"I've tried to be understanding Dean but I'm done. Congratulations my patience has officially run out. Get out of bed." Bobby order, kicking the foot of the bed.


"No? I didn't realise I was asking a question. Get out of bed!"

"I just lost my brother Bobby, I'm mourning." Dean replied, voice muffled by the pillow.

"Bullshit! If this was you mourning for your brother, I'd leave you alone but it's not. This is you sulking because it's been two months and you haven't heard from Crowley."

"Fuck off."

Bobby glared and grabbed a handful of blanket. There was a small struggle but he managed to yank the blanket off Dean, leaving him exposed. Dean grunted and curled in on himself, he knew he was acting like a child but he didn't care.

"Get your ass out of bed, have a shower and put on some proper fucking clothes! You're a grown ass man, you cant live in sweatpants." Bobby growled, throwing Dean's duffle bag at him. "If you're not downstairs in fifteen minutes, I'll physically remove you from the bed myself."

Dean just rolled over and ignored him. Bobby could say whatever he wanted, he wasn't moving. He listened to Bobby leaving before he uncurled himself and lifted the pillow over his head to shut the outside world out. Five minutes passed and he waited for Bobby to return because he wasn't getting out of bed without a fight. Some time passed before he sensed another presence in the room and he tensed his muscles in preparation. What he wasn't prepared for was two hand to come down, grab the elastic waist of his sweatpants and pull them down in one smooth move, leaving him ass up and completely naked.

"What the fuck Bobby?" he screeched, rolling over and covering himself with his pillow.

"Bobby? Something you wanna tell me cupcake?"

"Crowley?" Dean whispered.

"Fucking hell, I'd forgotten how tight you are." Crowley hissed, scissoring his fingers.

"Is that a compliment?" Dean managed to gasp out, eyes widening at the feel of Crowley's fingers rubbing inside him. His cock was twitching, leaking pre-cum. He hadn't come in two months, having been completely disinterested since the cemetery.

"You bet your tight little ass it is."

Dean whimpered when Crowley pushed against his prostate, rubbing the spongy nub enthusiastically. Dean whined and began to thrust his hips uncontrollably, doing his best to fuck the invading fingers deeper inside him. Crowley watched him closely, fascinated by the tight heat constricting around his fingers. Dean had the most responsive body.

"Please Crowley, please." Dean begged, well beyond caring about something as useless as pride.

"Soon Dean." Crowley promised, softly caressing Dean's ass.

Dean arched up as particularly hard thrust against his prostate made his vision turn white.

"Now Crowley!"

"Demanding bitch." Crowley chuckled, slapping Dean's thigh sharply and earning himself a yelp.

Dean replied by swatting the back of the demon's head. "Heavy handed bastard."

"You love it." Crowley muttered, smirking as he pulled his fingers out of Dean's quivering hole.

"What are you doing?" Dean demanded, terrified that Crowley was going to leave him. "Oh fuck!" he screeched, arching his back impossibly high when Crowley entered him in one thrust.

He'd forgotten how good it felt to have Crowley inside him, the intimacy of it was mind blowing. The stretch was almost painful but that didn't matter, what mattered was that Crowley was there, inside him, around him and holding him close. Nothing else mattered. Crowley did his best to give Dean time to adjust to the intrusion but he could only hold off for so long before his desire took over. He thrust roughly into the amazing heat. Dean wrapped his arms around the demon's neck and hitched his legs around his waist, although him the thrust deeper.

"Oh fuck yes!" Dean yelled when Crowley hit his prostate head on, "There, there, there, oh fuck yes there!" he gasped out desperately as Crowley continued ram his prostate.

Remembering how much it turned Dean on, Crowley allowed his eyes to change to a deep blood red and smirked when reacted with a deep moan and tightened around him like a vice. He panted heavily as Dean withered against him and he griped Dean's hips painfully tight in order to keep him still enough so he could hit his prostate dead on.

"I'm gonna cum." Dean warned, choking out the word as best he could.

"Cum, I want you to cum for me." Crowley encouraged, speeding up his thrusts.

Dean pushed back into Crowley, sending his cock deeper then he had thought possible.

"So close, so close." he murmured, feeling the pleasure coil in his stomach, "Almost, almost, oh fuck, Crowley! Fucking Christ!" Dean screamed, coming so violently his vision went fuzzy.

His cum splattered between them, their bodies sliding together with cum and sweat as powerful waves of pleasure shot throughout his body causing his muscles to tighten and clench around Crowley's cock. Slowly the pleasure receded and Dean was left exhausted and limp, panting heavily with each thrust of the demon's cock in his over sensitive hole.

Crowley continued to impale Dean roughly. It was harder to get off with Dean's body turned into jelly after his orgasm. Thankfully Dean was naturally tight so there was still enough friction. Dean grunted as Crowley continued abuse of his hole became uncomfortable and he buried his face in Crowley's neck, moving with him with each thrust.

"Fuck I missed this. Missed you." Crowley panted into Dean's ear.

Dean would bet anything that he would deny the words later when the haze of pleasure and desire had passed but the words still made Dean's stomach flutter happily.

Crowley could feel his balls begin to tighten and sped up his thrusts, enjoying the sound of his balls slapping against Dean's ass mixed with his half aroused whimpers.

"Fill me. Make me yours." Dean murmured, pushing Crowley over the edge and with a roar he emptied himself into his lover.

Dean's eyes widened as the demon's hot cum spilled into his ass, warmth spreading pleasantly through his body. With a grunt Crowley dropped his head onto Dean's shoulder, smirking when he slowly pulled out and Dean whined at the loss.

Crowley collapsed on top of Dean heavily, their skin sticking together with drying cum and sweat. Dean pulled a face at the feeling of Crowley's cum leaking out of his ass and dribbling down his thighs. Crowley smirked and reached between them, scooping a decent amount of cum and spread it across Dean's lips.

"If you wanted me to eat your cum, all you had to do was ask." Dean teased, licking the sticky substance off his lips. "Although I would prefer not to eat cum that has been in my ass. Just for future reference."

Crowley chuckled and leaned down for a deep kiss, moaning at the lingering taste of cum. Dean groaned and ran his fingers through Crowley's thin hair, scratching at the scalp and causing Crowley to shiver. Taking advantage of his lack of concentration, Dean flipped them over so he was on top, sitting in Crowley's lap. Pulling away he sat up and looked down at the demon on the back underneath him, enjoying the change in position. He turned his attention the Crowley's chest and began playing with the dark hair there, running his fingers through it happily.

"Where have you been?" he asked curiously.

"Securing my position."

"What position? You're a crossroads demon."

"I was a crossroads demon. Now I'm King of Hell."

Dean's attention snapped back up to Crowley's face, colour draining from him. "King of Hell? We finally kick Lucifer into his cage and you turn around and replace him? Oh god. I feel sick." he tried to move off Crowley but he was stopped by two unnaturally strong hands on his waist. "Let me go Crowley!"

"Why are you acting like this? What's wrong?"

"Wrong? I thought ….."

"Thought what? Thought I was different? We've had this conversation before." Crowley growled, his grip on Dean's waist tightening.

"No! I thought you were better! I thought you were better than Lucifer and Lilith. Better than Alistair but you're not. You're exactly the same."

He wouldn't cry, no matter how betrayed he felt. At least, he wouldn't cry in front of Crowley.

"No I'm not. They wanted to watch the world burn. I'm more than happy to leave the world alone. I just want Hell." Crowley explained.

"Same thing."

"It's not. I couldn't give a shit what humanity does."

Dean hesitated and stopped struggling against Crowley's grip. He frowned and watched the demon's face closely, searching for any hint of deceit.

"Why? If you don't have some big plan to destroy the world, why even bother?"

"Power, Dean. It's all about power. Someone has to be in charge, you can't just let demon's do whatever they want. It'd be chaos. So why not me?"

"You better not be fucking with me Crowley." Dean warned but his body relaxed and went back to stroking Crowley's chest hair.

Crowley sighed and placed a hand on Dean's cheek, rubbing his thumb across the smooth skin in soothing circles. "I promise."

"You're asking me to trust you." Dean pointed out but still found himself leaning into Crowley's touch.

Crowley didn't answer, he didn't have to. He knew what he was asking. Dean frowned thoughtfully and watched Crowley's face carefully. Should he trust him? Could he trust him? His gut was telling him to trust him but his gut had been wrong before. And if he was wrong, it would not only destroy him it could also have horrible consequences for the world. Could he take that risk?



Dean smiled softly and leaned down for a kiss. "I trust you."

"You may live to regret that decision."


"Dean that's it….."

Dean and Crowley froze, turning their heads slowly to see Bobby standing in the open doorway. Bobby stood with his mouth open, flicking his gaze between them. He was obviously horrified but couldn't find anything to say and he could only make choking noise as he tried to force the air out of his lungs.

"Right." he finally managed to choke out. "Well, you're….busy. So I'll just….go…anywhere that isn't here."

Dean managed to wait until Bobby had left the room and closed the door behind him before he broke down in laughter. He was laughing uncontrollably against Crowley's neck. After a moment Crowley joined him, the rough voice chuckling deeply. Eventually they calmed down and breathed deeply trying to catch breaths.

"Oh fuck me that was awkward." Dean huffed.

Crowley snorted in agreement. "Move your ass. I want to have a shower." he said, slapping Dean's ass playfully.

"Stop slapping me!" Dean huffed, but rolled off him.

"I thought you would enjoy a spanking." Crowley teased, getting up from the bed.

"A spanking and you slapping my ass every time you want me to do something are two very different things." Dean growled, rolling over onto his stomach and burying his face back in his pillow. "Now piss off and have a shower. And don't use all the hot water!"

"Sorry darling but it's my ass and I'll do whatever I want to it." Crowley told him, slapping his ass once more, hard enough to really hurt and prove his point before rushing off to the bathroom.

"You red-eyed bastard!" Dean cursed, laughter in his voice and springing off the bed to chase after him.


"Would you like some company?" Dean asked hesitantly, leaning against the garage door.

Bobby was sat at the dirty, oil stained table and Dean was willing to bet Bobby wasn't actually fixing anything and just hiding.

"Where's Crowley?"

He took that as an invitation and entered the garage, putting a beer in front of Bobby as a peace offering, before sitting across from him.

"I left him inside watching TV. I figured you'd prefer it if he wasn't here."

"You don't have to explain anything to me Dean. It's not my business." Bobby shrugged, taking a swig of beer.

"I know I don't have to, but you're a big part of my life and the only family I have left. I want you to be ok with this and you're clearly not."

"It's your life. Your mistake."

"See that right there! That passive aggressive shit. That's what I'm talking about."

Bobby sighed and sunk down lower in his chair. His shoulders slumped and he seemed to deflate. Dean really looked at him for the first time and noticed with shock how old and tired Bobby looked.

"Look. I have nothing against Crowley. Considering what he is, he's a decent enough guy. He's been nothing but helpful these past few months. But I'm sorry, I just don't like you two being together." Bobby admitted. "But it's not for the reason you think." he added, cutting Dean off before he could speak.

"Well then explain it to me!"

"I think you're getting too involved and he's going to hurt you."

"He cares about me." Dean was well aware how immature that sounded. Even to his own ears that sounded like he was grasping at straws but he knew Crowley cared. If Crowley didn't care he wouldn't be sat in Bobby's lounge room watching crap television.

"I don't doubt that. But whether you're willing to admit it to yourself or not, you love him. I can see it and it worries me. He will never love you back, he can't. He's not capable of it."

Bobby's words felt like a slap to the face. He already thought about everything Bobby was saying on regular basis, he didn't need to hear it out loud and he definitely didn't want to hear Bobby talk about him loving Crowley because he wasn't ready to deal with that can of problems anytime soon. But Bobby was wrong. There was a time Dean could have punched someone in the face if they ever suggested he'd feel anything for a demon other than hatred. There was a time when he never would have done half the things he'd done in the past six months but things change. Maybe Crowley would never love him but maybe he would. It wouldn't be the weirdest thing to happen.

"Maybe you're right. maybe you're wrong. I need to see where this goes. I need to give him a chance." Dean said, hoping Bobby would accept his decision.

"So what you're saying is; I should get used to seeing you two together?"

"Yeah pretty much."

"Wonderful." Bobby grimaced, pulling a face.

"Look Bobby I'm not good at this shit. I don't know what to say to make you understand, I don't really understand it myself. But what I do know is that Crowley is good for me. He makes me feel like old Dean again. The person I was before I went to Hell. I'm happy and I'm smiling again, I don't have to fake it anymore. I like being that person again." Dean explained as best he could. Talking about how he felt had always been difficult for him but he knew Bobby needed a proper explanation so he stumbled through it.

"This past year I've seen things I never thought possible so for you sake, I hope I'm wrong."

Bobby really did hope he was wrong. He hoped Crowley could give Dean what he deserved, he hoped Dean would finally catch a break and get what he really wanted. He hoped Crowley wasn't going to break Dean's heart. He just didn't believe it.

Chapter Text


Dean sighed and rubbed his eyes in an effort to stop them stinging. It had never occurred to him how much time and effort went into researching a case. Over the years he'd taken all the work Bobby did for granted. Bobby always had all the answers for any hunter in the country and Dean had never thought about how much work that was.

Well he was thinking about it now as he read through yet another musty book written in a language he didn't quite understand. It had been three months since Sam's death and after realising that he wasn't going to be hunting anytime soon he offered to help Bobby run the home base. So there he was, trying to find some obscure paragraph about killing a monster he'd never heard of to help a hunter he'd never met. He sighed again and let his head drop onto the table, grunting when it hurt more than he'd anticipated.


He was exhausted but refused to go to sleep until he had a answer for Riley, the hunter chasing a monster who had murdered seventeen women over twenty years. The worst past was how desperate he was for a drink, he wanted nothing more than to break into Bobby's liquor cabinet and chug whatever was in reach but he wouldn't do that because that desire alone was enough to tell him he had a drinking problem. He lifted his head to drop it on the table once more when his phone buzzed.

"Oh thank fuck."

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and hoped it was something to distract him from the mind numbing boredom before he did something stupid. Well more stupid than slamming his own head on the table. He smiled when he saw Crowley's name flash across his screen. He didn't see Crowley in person that often, he was always busy doing one thing or another and could never stay topside for more than a few days at a time. He wouldn't talk about it but Dean knew that being in charge wasn't going as smoothly as he'd hoped and his position wasn't as stable as he tried to make Dean believe. Leaning back in his chair he read the message.

Exactly how miserable are you without me?

Dean rolled his eyes at the cockiness.

I'm bored out of my fucking mind. Entertain me.

I'm in the middle of a meeting. This moron has been blabbering for over an hour. I'm thinking about stabbing him in the neck with a letter opener.

You're in Hell?

No, I'm at a day spa getting a seaweed wrap. Of course I'm in Hell. Where else would I fucking be?

You're texting me from Hell? I can't even get reception on the other side of the room and you're texting me from another plane of existence? What phone plan are you on?

My phone plan is called; I'm a demon dumb ass and I know how to use magic.

Sounds much better than my plan. How do I get involved?

Well doing that thing I mentioned would be a good start.

I'm not doing that!

I'll make it good for you.

You are not putting your fist any where near my ass!

Not even if I ask nicely?

Not a fucking chance Hell

I'm the King of Hell you know. That expression doesn't mean anything to me.


We'll discuss this in person later.

We really won't. Wait, later?.

Well I was going to surprise you but I'll be done here in a few hours and I was planning on dropping in.

You should really be careful about just 'dropping in'. Bobby is a jumpy bastard and you're likely to get a cup of holy water to the face.

I'll keep that mind

You do that.

I will


Dean was glad Bobby had gone to bed hours ago because he was openly smiling like an idiot at his phone. It took ten minutes for Crowley to reply and Dean had gone back to his research.

I'll be there soon xx

It was embarrassing how happy those two little crosses made him.



Dean shuffled into the lounge room wearily, it had been a long day and he was looking forward to watching a movie. Sitting down on the couch he curled his legs underneath him comfortably and stared at the giant bowl of popcorn hungrily. It had taken four packets of double butter popcorn to fill the bowl and he was very happy with the results.

He settled down and flicked the television on, waiting for the movie to start. He ran his hand through his wet hair and thought about his day. He had very quickly realised that helping Bobby with the researching was going to drive him to suicide so he decided to help one of Bobby's friends in town. Simon was a mechanic at the local garage and Dean was natural with cars. The only thing he didn't like about the job was smelling like oil all day and spending an hour in the shower trying to get clean.

He was just about to start on the popcorn when a hand came over his shoulder and stole some. Irrational anger at someone stealing his food coursed through him and whoever had stolen his popcorn was lucky he didn't have anything to stab with. A pair of lips touched his neck and mouthed softly at the skin, tearing his attention away from food. He turned his head and buried his fingers in Crowley's hair, massaging his scalp.

"Mmmm, that feels good." he murmured before using his grip to pull the demon's head away from his neck and into a kiss.

They pulled away eventually and Crowley jumped over the back of the couch with more grace then Dean would have thought possible. He settled down next Dean and pulled him close. He spread out on the couch and Dean curled up next to him happily. He rested his head on the demon's chest and balanced the bowl on his stomach. The silk shirt was soft against his face and caused him to wonder where Crowley found the money for such expensive suits.

"Do ever where anything other than black?" he asked curiously.


Dean took the hint and focused his attention back to the movie. Crowley obviously didn't want to talk and he wasn't going to push him. Halfway through and he was struggling to keep his eyes open. Crowley was warm and comfortable, the rise and fall of his chest was soothing and the gentle hand carding through his hair was sending him to sleep. He put the half empty bowl on the floor and snuggled closer, playing absently with the black buttons of Crowley's shirt. The hand in his hair moved down and began stroking up and down his spine.

"Bad day?" he asked finally, hoping Crowley had calmed down enough not to snap at him.

"You have no idea. I'm beginning to understand why Lilith was such a raging bitch." he sighed, rolling his eyes.

"I thought you were Lilith's right hand man?"

"She was winning. I knew the seals would be broken, it was in my best interests to be on her good side."

"Awwww, your complete lack of any morals is such a turn on." Dean muttered sarcastically. When that failed to pull any kind of response from Crowley he hooked his leg across the demon's waist.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he whispered seductively, kissing the underside of Crowley's jaw.

"As wonderful as that sounds, I haven't slept in what feels like a month. I'm exhausted."

"You haven't been sleeping?"

"Time moves differently in Hell, you know that. When you spend half your time topside and half in Hell, it messes with your sleeping patterns." Crowley explained.

"Well when I was in Hell, I had bigger problems then missing sleep."

"Being King isn't as fun as I thought it would be."

"There's something I've been wondering about that actually. We're dating right?"

"Of course we're dating, what did you think we were doing?"

Dean rolled his eyes when Crowley gave him that look, that 'you're so stupid and I don't know how you breathe and walk at the same time' look.

"Shut up. Anyway, so if you're the King of Hell and I'm your boyfriend, what does that make me?"

"I hadn't really thought about it. You could be my Queen?" Crowley smirked.

Dean glared and at the answer and before Crowley could stop him he reached down and grabbed the demon's crotch painfully tight, squeezing his balls. He tried to remain serious when Crowley squeaked and his eyes went wide.

"Did I say Queen? I didn't mean Queen." Crowley panted.

"Damn right."

"Well what the fuck do you want to be?"

"Can I be King too?"


"Why not?"

"There can only be one King. You can't make things to complicated, demons are easily confused. You can be my Prince?" Crowley teased, happy when Dean removed the punishing grip from his balls.

"Prince." Dean repeated thoughtfully. "Hmmm….I'll take that."

"Excellent. It's decided. When you can finally managed to die and stay dead you can be my Prince. We'll rule together."

"Do I get a crown?"

"I'm sure I'll be able to find you a crown. I might get one for myself now that you mention it. Oh and we'll have thrones made from the skulls of infants. I've always wanted one of those."

"You are so ridiculas." Dean chuckled.

"I prefer eccentric. But you have a point, crowns might be a bit much."

"Yes because the thrones made from the bones of infants is reasonable."

"Skulls." Crowley chimed in suddenly.


"The thrones will be made from the skulls of infants. You said bones."

"Oh well that makes much more sense."

"Of course we'll only bring the thrones out on special occasions."

"Of course." Dean agreed, trying to look serious but failing. It was nice joking around with Crowley. At least he thought Crowley was joking. Oh please let him be joking.

"This is by far the most disturbing conversation I've ever walked in on."

Dean craned his neck up to see Bobby standing next to the armrest of the couch. Bobby smiled tightly at him before frowning at Crowley. He didn't like Crowley being in his house, something Dean could kind of understand. He and Crowley had a habit of having sex in all areas of the house and Bobby was the unfortunate one who kept walking in on them.

"How was work?" Bobby asked as he moved to the liquor cabinet to refill his glass and pointedly ignoring the demon's presence.

"Good. Simon will probably hire me full time before the end of the month."

"Awwww, my little grease monkey." Crowley teased, ruffling Dean's hair.

"Fuck off."



Dean was doing the dishes when a pair of hands covered his eyes suddenly. The only thing that stopped his from elbowing whoever it was in the kidney was the fact he recognised Crowley's cologne.

"Guess who?" Crowley whispered huskily in his ear.

"Oh Ryan, are you gonna fuck me like a naughty boy?" Dean answered, filling his voice with lust.

Faster than he could comprehend, the hands left his eyes and he was spun around roughly before being crushed against the sink. Crowley pinned him in place by placing his hands on either side and boxing him in. His eyes were blazing red, jealously making it hard for him to control himself.

"That isn't funny." he hissed.

"Woops. Wrong lover." he smirked, enjoying winding him up. He liked bringing out Crowley's natural aggressive nature, it was fun and consequences were always enjoyable.

He reached up and stoked Crowley's face, he was really liking the facial hair the demon had going lately. He didn't know what had caused the demon to stop shaving but he was thankful to whatever it was. Running his hand through Crowley's hair he frowned thoughtfully.

"Your hair is longer." he muttered, watching the black strands falls through his fingers.

"I haven't had time for a haircut." Crowley shrugged.

"I like it."

Crowley smiled. A real smile, not a smirk. It made Dean's heart miss a beat. He tilted his head and caught the demon in a kiss. Crowley groaned low in the back of his throat and deepened the kiss, taking control and plundering his mouth. Dean went limp against him and allowed him to dominate the kiss, the warmth of his body making Dean's head spin. When they pulled away Dean couldn't disguise the dopey look on his face. Sometimes he went weeks without seeing Crowley do kissing him was still a relatively new thing and still made his stomach flip.

"Close your eyes for me."

"Why?" Dean asked, instantly suspicious. Crowley was up to something, he could see it by the look in his eyes and it put him on edge.

"Because I have a surprise for you."

"Your idea of a surprise makes me nervous." Dean pointed out, pulling a face.

"Close your eyes." Crowley repeated. His tone of voice making in perfectly clear he expected Dean to obey.

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes. It was easier to just do what Crowley said, he couldn't be bothered to argue. He closed his eyes and waited impatiently. When northing happened he started to get irritated, thinking Crowley was just fucking with him to make him look stupid.

"Open them sweetheart."

Huffing impatiently he opened his eyes, getting ready to smack Crowley on the back of his head for wasting his time. He froze. Bobby's kitchen had disappeared and he was standing in the middle of a dingy hallway. The walls were a horrible cream colour and the floors an off white. It was boring, plain and yet soul crushingly depressing.

"Where the fuck are we?" he asked, confusing colouring his voice as he looked around.

"You don't recognise it?" Crowley was smirking and tucked his hands into his pockets.

Dean frowned and tried to understand why he should recognise the remarkably unremarkable room. A cold feeling spread through him as an idea entered his mind and his breathing quickened rapidly as he veered closer and closer to a panic attack. Crowley wouldn't. he wasn't that cruel. Was he?

"Is this Hell?" Dean asked, embarrassed by his shaking voice.

"Do you like what I've done with the place? It's taken some extensive remodelling but I finally got it the way I want it." Crowley explained, proud of his work.

His face fell quickly when he looked at Dean. He was deathly pale and shaking. From anger or fear he couldn't tell.

"What's wrong?" he asked, taken back by the betrayal radiating from Dean.

"This is your idea of a surprise? I still wake up screaming from nightmares of this place! This was a massively shitty thing to do, even by your standards! Take me back to Bobby's." Dean couldn't believe Crowley could be cruel enough to bring him here of all places.


"Fuck you Crowley! Take me back!" he yelled, refusing to listen to any of Crowley's bullshit.

Crowley moved towards him and raised a hand to cup his face. Dean flinched at the touch but didn't pull away.

"Look at me Dean."

Dean forced himself to look meet the demon's eyes. "What?" he grunted.

"In the time we've been together, have I ever done anything to hurt you?"

"You bought me to this place!"

"And you said you trusted me. Trust me now."

Dean closed his eyes and swallowed his anger. Crowley had a point. Maybe he had a good reason for bringing him here? Maybe Dean was being irrational. Crowley deserved the benefit of the doubt. "I swear to God Crowley, if you're fucking with me.."

"I know, I know, you'll rip me a new one."

"Fine. You have one chance to prove you're not a raging prick."

"Follow me."

Crowley's hand dropped from his face and settled it against his lower back, guiding him down the hallway. Dean lost track of how many twists and turns they'd taken quickly, the place was a maze. Every hallway looked exactly the same. Eventually they came to a stop outside a door, the first Dean had seen. Leaning around him, Crowley pushed the door open and gestured for him to enter. Dean hesitated as images from his time in Hell. Blood and Screams, his worst nightmares coming to life. He pushed through it and with one last look at Crowley he passed through the door.

What he walked into was breath taking and Dean was reminded that Hell had no basis in reality. He was standing in what looked to be a massive underground cave. The sheer size of the place was hard for his mind to grasp. The grey stone walls were bathed in a soft orange glow that came from a hundred and eighty foot waterfall made of fire instead of water. The wall of fire disappeared from sight and Dean realised they were standing on a cliff. Moving forward he walked to the edge and looked down. It was a three hundred foot drop to a lake, the fire hitting the water in a cloud of sparks.

"Holy shit." he breathed in awe.

"Like it?" Crowley appeared behind him and wrapped an arm tightly around Dean's waist.

"It's beautiful." he whispered, not caring if he sounded like a girl. He'd never seen anything like it.

"Forgive me?"

Dean nodded dumbly, eyes still wide with shock and mouth open.

"Close your mouth darling."

Dean's mouth snapped shut and he kissed Crowley's cheek. "Thank you for brining me here."

Crowley used the arm around him waste to spin him around to face a empty space of smooth stone near the edge of the cliff. With a wave of his hand a black blanket and a picnic basket.

"Is this date?" Dean asked surprised.

"I thought you might like to do something together other than fuck. And if you say one word about me acting like a girl I will push you over the edge of the fucking cliff." Crowley warned, the gruff British voice making Dean shiver.

"What's in the basket?"

"You have a choice of pork with beurre meuniere and mushrooms or Boeuf bourguignon with Raspberry dacquoise for desert."

Dean tried not to pull a face. He had no idea what Crowley had just said but he had a feeling he wouldn't like it. He had a rule, if he couldn't pronounce it, he didn't want to eat it.

"That sounds…..nice." he smiled shakily.

Crowley smirked and looked at him closely, watching him struggle. Dean wasn't nearly as good at lying as he thought, especially not to someone like Crowley who lied for a living.

"Dean I'm fucking with you. It's two large meat lovers pizzas, a six pack of beer and an apple pie."

Dean groaned in relief, happy beyond words that he wasn't going to have to eat something funky.

"You have no idea how much I love you right now." Dean muttered without thinking.

Crowley went ridged next to him and he realised exactly what he'd said. Fuck.



It had been three weeks since Dean's monumental cock up and he hadn't heard from Crowley. After an awkward dinner Crowley had dropped him off at Bobby's and disappeared without a word. Dean was beginning to think he had fucked up beyond fixing and Crowley had made a run for it and he couldn't blame him. What was wrong with him, telling Crowley he loved him? He knew the demon didn't feel the same way, he knew it would make things uncomfortable and he'd said it anyway.

He looked down at the small red box curiously. Not one word, text or phone call from Crowley in three weeks until he had found the box sitting on his chest of drawers.

"Are you gonna open it or just stare?" Bobby asked dryly, leaning against the bedroom door.

Dean didn't answer and instead twirled the piece of card that had come with the present idly. He looked down at it and read the words again.

For you,

Fergus xxx

Shaking his head he opened the box quickly, like ripping off a bandaid. It was a ring. A silver ring with two entwined hearts, a crown sitting above them. Frowning heavily he took it out of the box and noticed writing engraved on the inside. He could see it was Enochian but he couldn't read it, he'd never learnt to read Enochian.

"What does that mean?" he asked, handing the ring over to Bobby.

Bobby took the ring and stared at it intently, a look on his face Dean couldn't read.

"My Enochian is a bit spotty but I'm pretty sure it's a protection spell, and a strong one. The design is called a Luckenbooth "


"A traditional Scottish love token." Bobby explained with a shrug.

Dean felt the breath leave him. Crowley had sent him a love token? Maybe he hadn't completely fucked up. A smile spread across his face and for the first time he didn't ignore the warmth in his stomach or the ache in his heart. It was love, he loved Crowley and Crowley loved him in return.

"Looks like you got your Christmas wish kid." Bobby grunted, handing the ring back to Dean.

Looks like he did.

Chapter Text

One Year Later….

Dean had a normal life. He went to work, he paid his bills, he went to the neighbour's barbeques and every Wednesday night he would get in the car and drives to Bobby's where they would drink beer and watch Dr Sexy MD. He would admit, it was a bit of a boring life. For all its faults the one thing you couldn't say about the hunting lifestyle was that it was boring. Yes, sometimes he would be sat in front of the television watching a repeat from the night before and dread going to sleep because he knew tomorrow would a repeat of today.

Just like today was a repeat of yesterday. But that moment would pass and he'd remember that boring meant being able to go to sleep at night and not have to worry about being torn apart the next day. Boring meant no more drinking until he couldn't remember his own name. Boring meant no longer having the lives of innocent people resting on his shoulders. And most importantly, boring was the price he paid for being with Crowley.

He couldn't have both. He couldn't be a hunter and be with Crowley. His morals wouldn't allow it, it was all or nothing. So he made a choice, a pretty simple choice if he was honest. He chose Crowley. He chose normal. He chose boring. He officially retired six months after Sam had jumped into the cage, simply telling Bobby he was done. Bobby had been surprised, probably more then he'd let on but he hadn't asked why. He already knew.

Dean was no longer willing to give his life so strangers could live theirs. Despite what everyone seemed to believe, he was not the only hunter in existence and it was time for the world to be someone else's problem. It was time for someone else to make the sacrifice. He had sacrificed enough; his mum, his dad, Ellen and Jo. Sam had been the tipping point. He'd lost his baby brother and he didn't have it in him to give up someone else he loved. He wasn't going to give Crowley up and God help anyone who tried to make him.


Dean grunted when his back hit the wall with a dull thump, Crowley's hands holding him in place. He sighed happily as the warm body pressed against his own, pushing against him, desperate to get closer. Grabbing Crowley's hair tightly he pulled their faces together, forcing Crowley into a deep, demanding kiss.

Their mouths battled, each needing to be closer. It had been so long since they'd last been together and the lust was making his skin itch and he ground their hips together, the friction making his head spin. Once he started he couldn't stop and rutted against Crowley like a teenager. He pulled away from the kiss and placed light kisses down Crowley's neck, the hair on his jaw tickling his lips. He inhaled deeply, loving the smell of the demon when he frowned. He pulled back and slipped out of Crowley's grip in a practiced move.

"You smell of death." He explained, wrinkling his nose at Crowley's confused look.

"I do not."

"Well you certainly smell of something. I'm not touching you until you have a shower."

Crowley rolled his eyes and grunted his irritation at being denied sex for another twenty minutes. He thought quickly and came to the conclusion that arguing with Dean would take longer than simply taking a shower and if he argued there was a good chance he wouldn't be getting any sex.

Dean watched closely as Crowley stripped. He'd lost his jacket sometime earlier and his shoe shad been kicked off a while ago so it didn't take long. He unbuttoned his shirt quickly, exposing chest hair that made Dean's stomach twist pleasantly. Crowley noticed his look and smirked, kicking off his pants and throwing his boxers at Dean's head. Dean laughed and ducked, the boxers flying over his head. Cocking his head he stared at Crowley's ass, appreciating the view.

After Crowley had disappeared into the bathroom, Dean stripped himself down, when Crowley got out of the shower he didn't want to waste time getting undressed. He walked past Crowley's clothes that had been left in a pile on the floor and frowned when he saw a stain. Dean was sure one of the reasons Crowley never wore anything other than black was because blood didn't show up but he had a knack for spotting blood and he picked them off the floor quickly.

The last thing he needed was having to clean blood off the carpet. He was surprised by the weight in Crowley's pants. There was something in his pocket. A part of him told him to mind his own business, it had nothing to do with him what Crowley had in his pockets but his curiosity got the better of him.

Throwing the rest of his and Crowley's clothes on the chest of drawers he reached into the pocket and was shocked when he pulled out a knife. It was a deadly looking knife, impossibly sharp and ornate. It didn't surprise him that Crowley had a knife in his pocket, when he was hunter Dean always had a knife stashed on his somewhere. What bothered him was the fact that it was covered in drying blood, parts of it still sticky.

"Ewwww." he muttered, pulling a face.

Crowley came out form the bathroom completely naked and still dripping wet. The smirk on his face faltered when he saw Dean was holding.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to touch other people's things?"

"Dude this is disgusting. Why do you have a bloody knife?"

Crowley shrugged and took the knife out of Dean's hands before walking back into the bathroom and dropping it into the sink. He came back and one glance at Dean's face told him he wasn't going to let it go.

"Rule one of owning a knife, clean it after you use it." Dean lectured, decades of Bobby and his dad drilling that into him coming to the surface.

"I was impatient to see you." Crowley said, moving over to Dean and pulling them together.

Their naked bodies pressed together, Crowley's shower damp body sliding against Dean. Dean groaned as their cocks slid against one another, the pleasure making him shiver. Crowley's arms wrapped around his waist and he began nibbling on Dean's collarbone.

"Who's blood is on the knife?" Dean asked, panting. His common sense was telling him to let it go but he'd never been one to listen to common sense.

Crowley pulled away from his neck but didn't let go of his waist and sighed heavily. "You're not going to let this go are you?

"Not likely."

"If I tell you, can we get on with having sex?" Crowley growled, he was way too horny.

"Such a romantic." Dean chuckled.

Crowley rolled his eyes again and shuffled Dean back to the bed, pushing him down. "Scoot up."

He moved up the bed so he his head was on his pillow and started up at Crowley with a raised eyebrow, waiting for him to start explaining.

"We're not having sex until you tell me who's blood is on that knife." he promised, closing his legs tightly.

Crowley didn't answer and crawled on top of Dean, straddling his thighs and causing Dean to whimper as their cocks brushed against each other once more.

"I don't know her name. It never came up." Crowley spoke finally.

"Was she a demon?" Dean asked, afraid of what the answer would be.

"No. She was a hunter."

"You killed a hunter?" he wasn't sure why that disturbed him as much as it did.

"It wasn't really the goal but death is usually the side effect of torture."

Dean was startled by how matter of fact Crowley was about it and it reminded him why he never asked for details about what Crowley did when they were apart.

"Why did you torture her?"

"She started poking her nose in things that didn't concern her."

"I meant why torture her? Why not just kill her?" Dean repeated hesitantly. He didn't want to know the answer, but he needed to know.

Crowley paused and reached out to cup Dean's cheek, rubbing small circles with his thumb. "I don't think you want me to answer that."
Dean grabbed Crowley's wrist and held his hand in place, looking up at him intently. "If I didn't want to know the answer, I wouldn't have asked the question."

Crowley hesitated for a moment longer before answering, his gaze never leaving Dean's. "It was fun."

Dean felt his eyes widen at the simple yet terrible answer. Crowley had tortured and killed a innocent woman and there was absolutely no justification behind it. He hadn't done it because it was necessary or because she'd attacked first. He hadn't even done it because she had information he needed. No. Crowley had done it for entertainment.

He still processing that information and what to do with it when a warm pair of lips started to travel down his neck, biting and licking at the soft skin. All thought left his head and he arched up into the demon's touch. Crowley smirked and bit down hard, almost drawing blood. Dean yelled and smack the back of Crowley's head in retaliation.

"Watch it Dracula."

Crowley snorted but licked gently at the bruised skin in apology. Dean hissed as teeth scraped across his collarbone and withered as the demon left large pick hickeys that would turn purple and last for weeks. The demon moved down to his chest, scraping his teeth across his nipples and pulling a breathless whimper from Dean.

Reaching between them he took Dean's growing erection in his hands and began pumping him steadily, twirling his thumb around the swollen mushroom head and pushing a nail into the slit teasingly. Dean thrust up into the touch, his vision swimming. His insides were burning in pleasure, desire and pure lust. He needed to be closer, needed to feel more. More of anything as long as it made him cum.

"Please Crowley." he begged, the hand on his cock not enough to get him off.

Crowley decided to take pity on him. Hooking a hand on his hip, Crowley flipped him over onto his stomach in a single motion. The strength behind the action made Dean shiver in anticipation. The same hand patted his thigh and Dean pushed himself onto his hands and knees, understanding the silent command.

Crowley smirked at the action and settled down onto his knees, taking in the sight. Dean swallowed when he felt large, rough hands caress his ass, a finger trailing in between the cheeks. Two strong hands spread his ass cheeks and Dean frowned when he felt hot air brush against his hole.

"Crowley what…"

"Shut up. You'll enjoy this."

"Enjoy wh….Holy fuck!"

Dean's eyes rolled back into his head when a warm, wet tongue licked over his hole. Crowley was rimming him and it felt fantastic. Why had they never done this before? The tongue swirled around his tight puckered entrance, probing deep with each sweep.

"Fuck!" he cursed when the wet muscle pushed inside him, making him see stars.

The intense pleasure was making him sweat and shake, the muscles in his arms giving way and he collapsed onto his elbows. This forced his ass further up into the air and deeper onto Crowley's tongue. His cock was hard and curved up, pre-cum smearing across his stomach. Crowley was slowly working him open, adding two fingers into the mix. Dean didn't know what was hotter; the fact that his ass was being eaten or the fact that it was the big bad King of Hell who was tongue deep inside his ass.

"Fuck me Crowley!"

Despite the fact he knew what was coming, Dean still wined at the loss when Crowley pulled away. He was about to start swearing when he felt the head of the demon's cock push into his hole. Crowley was pressed against his back, moulding against his body perfectly. With one solid thrust he was balls deep inside him and Dean was sure his brain had gone into shut down. At this point he was amazed that he could even remember how to breathe.

"Is this what you want? Feel my thick cock inside your tight slutty hole?" Crowley breathed into his ear, the husky British drawl making Dean shiver.

All Dean could do was grunt and thrust back, urging Crowley to start moving. The demon took the hint and begun thrusting into him wildly, the force of it making Dean jerk forward. The sound of Crowley's balls slapping heavily against his ass was enough to make Dean completely incoherent. Each thrust battered his prostate and Dean was screeching, each thrust was making his cock throb painfully.

"Crowley please. I can't…" Dean panted desperately.

Crowley reached around and took of his straining cock once more, repeating his actions from earlier. Dean's orgasm came quickly, his body jerking wildly and his vision going black as his cum splattered onto the bed. His hole tightened and pulled Crowley over the edge. Dean moaned softly as the pleasure slowly receded, leaving him weak and shaking. He continued to moan when he felt the warmth of Crowley's cum inside him, making him feel full. His legs gave out and he lay down flat on the bed, panting and trying to regain his breath. He grunted when Crowley dropped down on top of him, the demon was a lot heavier than he looked.

"Dude you are so fucking heavy."

"Are you calling me fat?" Crowley demanded, faking hurt.

"Yes. Get the fuck off me."

Dean sighed when Crowley rolled off him, allowing him to breath easily again. He spread out and buried his face into his pillow, basking in the post orgasm haze. Crowley lay on his side, leaning on his elbow and hovering over Dean. He always recovered faster than Dean did.

"I ran into Amy today, we're invited to her wedding." Dean muttered when he'd come back down to reality.

"I'm busy."

"I haven't even told you when it is." Dean pointed out.

"And yet I know I'll be busy. Isn't that odd?"

Dean snorted and rolled over so his face was buried in Crowley's arm. He sighed happily when Crowley dragged soft fingers up and down his back, from his shoulder blades to the curve of his ass and he reviled in the touch. Loving touches from Crowley were few and far between so he enjoyed them when he could.

"Do you ever think about marriage?" he asked softly, too blessed out to screen what he was saying.

The soothing hand paused for a second before continuing and Dean could feel the heat of Crowley's gaze. "I was married once and have intention of repeating the experience."

Dean would have to be deaf not to hear the warning in his words. Rolling his eyes he reached up and played with Crowley's chest hair. "Calm down Fergus, I wasn't offering. Just curious."

Crowley glared and pulled Dean's hair roughly, hard enough to pull some out and cause Dean to yelp at the unexpected pain.

"What the fuck was that for douche bag?"

"Don't call me Fergus." Crowley hissed, tugging the hair again in warning.

Dean frowned at the rough treatment and made a silent promise to get Crowley back later. He stretched languidly and rolled out of bed, standing on shaky legs.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm dirty and hungry. Someone couldn't wait so I missed dinner."

"Oh please, like you weren't gagging for my cock." Crowley snorted but followed Dean in getting out of bed. Now that it had been mentioned, he was hungry too. Hell wasn't known for its cuisine.

On his way to the bathroom he slapped Dean on the ass with a smirk, knowing how much it pissed Dean off.

"Stop fucking doing that!"

Dean entered the kitchen and opened the fridge to take out the leftover roast pork he'd cooked the day before. Over the past year he'd become very good at cooking any form of meat. He didn't know why he'd never cooked before, it was easy and the food much better than anything from a microwave. As he moved around the kitchen he couldn't believe how much his life had changed. He had moved out of Bobby's nearly a year ago, wanting a place where he and Crowley could fuck wherever and whenever they wanted without worrying about someone walking in on them.

Well that, and he'd realised he never wanted to hunt again. After that decision he'd decided that it was time for him to become a normal and semi functioning part of society. And here he was. A functioning adult with a full time job, mortgage, bills and responsibilities. Sometimes it still made his head spin.

Moving quickly around the kitchen he put the cold meat in the microwave. While it was warming up he took out some bread and butter, Crowley would complain but was it was ten o'clock at night and Crowley was delusion if he thought he was getting anything fancier than sandwiches to eat.

When it was done he moved into the lounge room where Crowley had spread himself across the couch and handed him his sandwich before taking his place next to the demon.

"What are we watching?" he asked, voice muffled by pork. That earned him a irritated glance for talking with his mouth but he just replied with a grin.

"A documentary on Hitler."

"Not exactly my idea of fun, but alright."

"You should pay attention. That man knew how to make a deal."

"Hitler sold his soul?"

"Does that really surprise you? A poor solider with no real education or skills becomes the most feared dictator in the world because he followed his dreams and worked hard?" Crowley scoffed, kicking his feet onto the coffee table and taking a bite of the sandwich.

Dean refused to take the bait. He'd learned quickly that Crowley said most of the things he did to get a rise out of people and the angrier you got, the more fun he got out of it. So Dean took a deep breath, twisted in his seat and rested his feet in Crowley's lap with a smirk.

They watched the television in silence, empty plates forgotten on the coffee table. Dean was slowing drifting off to sleep, documentaries had couldn't hold his attention at the best of times, never mind being exhausted from sex.

"How long are you staying this time?" he murmured when the show ended and he had Crowley's attention once more.

"A few weeks."

Dean snapped awake. A few weeks? In the seventeen months they'd been together, Crowley had never stayed longer than a few days at a time. He wasn't sure whether to be happy or suspicious. Both, defiantly both.

"A few weeks? I thought you couldn't be away for that long?"

"Things have finally settled down and it's not like I'm completely out of reach if something comes up." Crowley answered simply, amused at Dean's suspicious reaction.

To anyone else, Crowley would appear to be utterly sincere but Dean knew better. He could see the slight shift in body language, the almost non existent shift in his eyes.

"You're not telling me something." he accused.

"Something? Oh no Dean, there are hundreds of things I don't tell you. Because they don't concern you."

"I bet I could make you tell me." Dean smirked, rubbing his foot against Crowley's crotch.

"You should test that theory." Crowley growled, pulling Dean up and into his lap in one smooth move.

Their kiss was hot and heavy, mouths working together perfectly. Dean was rocking his hips steadily, enjoying the growls he pulled from the demon. He pulled away with a gasp when Crowley's hand snuck up his shirt and raking his nails down his chest.

"Oh fuck." he hissed, bucking into the touch.

"Open your eyes darling."

He didn't even realise his eyes were closed. His eyes fluttered open and what he saw caused his cock to twitch in excitement. Crowley locked their eyes together, burning red eyes keep Dean pinned down. He would never understand where his red-eye kink had come from. What he did know was nothing got him harder than a seeing those eyes. The atmosphere between them had changed from teasing to bordering on desperation and Dean was just about to suggest they remove the hindrance of clothes when his phone rang. The shrill noise cut through his arousal quicker then he would have thought possible. Grunting in irritation he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone, ignoring Crowley's suggestion to just leave it.

"What?" he growled, unhappily. This had better be fucking important.


"Who else would it be Bobby?"

"I need you to come down here."

"Bobby what are talking about?"

"There's something I need you to see."

"And you can't tell me over the phone because?"

Crowley shot him a questioning look and Dean shrugged his shoulders.

"You wouldn't believe me if I did. Get your ass down here!"

Dean sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "So let me get this straight. It's ten o'clock at night, I'm seeing Crowley for the first time in over two weeks and you want be to drive three hours so you can show me something. But you can't what it is or why I need to see it. Is that the general gist of what's happening here?"

"Dean when have I ever asked you to do something that wasn't necessary? Trust me, you need to get your ass down here."

"Fine. This had better be fucking important." Dean grunted before hanging up.

He growled and let his head flop down and rest on Crowley's shoulder.

"What the fuck is Grumpy's problem?"

"My leading theory is he's in the middle of a complete mental breakdown." Dean shook his head tiredly, tucking his phone into his jeans.

He sighed and pushed himself of Crowley's lap. If he wanted to get back some time before dawn he had to leave now. He grabbed his jacket off the dinning room chair and his keys. He was not looking forward to the drive.

"Do you want me to come with you? I love watching that vein throb in Bobby's head."

"I'm sure you do." Dean chuckled, making his way back over to Crowley and standing in front of him. "But I think you should stay here. Bobby sounds stressed enough."

"Why don't we finish what we started? I know how much you love a quickie."

"As wonderful as that sounds, we don't have any condoms and I doubt even you could eat me out so thoroughly I don't need a shower." Dean pointed out, earning himself a playful kick from Crowley.

He leaned down and kissed him quickly, really wishing he could stay exactly where he was and have another round of mind blowing sex.

Dean didn't know what Bobby wanted but he had that feeling. That feeling that told him he was going to have a mother of a headache by the time everything had been sorted out. Nothing good ever came from a cryptic phone call in the middle of the night. Sighing once more he hoped the night wasn't going to end as badly as he feared.


When Dean pushed open Bobby's front door he frowned when he saw Bobby standing in the middle of the hallway waiting for him.

"Oh yeah, that's not fucking creepy at all." he muttered, still pissed at being pulled away from his nice warm bed and his horny demon.

"Dean I need you to stow the sarcasm for five fucking minutes and pay attention!"

Dean felt a wave of worry, Bobby had never spoken to him like that before. "Sure Bobby, what is it?"

"Before I show you, I need you to know that I've already done all the tests. Holy water, salt, silver, exorcisms in every language I know. I even muttered some Enochian spell I barely understood." Bobby explained, pacing back and forth in the short width of the hallway. "I need you to not freak out."

Dean watched Bobby worriedly, when he'd told Crowley he thought Bobby was having a break down it had been a joke. Now he wasn't so sure. "Bobby the only thing freaking me out is you."

"Yeah well keep that in mind." Bobby muttered before pushing Dean towards the kitchen. "They're in there."

Dean closed his eyes and struggled to find what little patience he had left. There was that headache he knew was coming. He really didn't want to be here, judging for the Bobby was acting this had supernatural written all over it and he wanted no part in it. He'd spent the last year building his life and he wasn't going to have that taken away from him. "They? Bobby what the fuck are you…"

There were only a few times in his life when Dean had been completely lost for words. This was one of them. In Bobby's kitchen was the massive and unmistakable form of his brother. Now that he could handle, after all it wasn't the first time his brother had come back from the dead. However what really made feel like he was having the most realistic and horrifying dream of his life was the person standing next to Sam. The also unmistakable but much more terrifying John Winchester.

Chapter Text

There were not many moments in Dean's life where he had been completely lost for words, his mind unable to cope with what was in front of him. In fact, he liked to think that over the years his ability to deal with whatever crap was thrown his way had improved greatly and there wasn't anything he couldn't deal with.

He was wrong.

So very, very wrong. Seeing his long dead father standing in Bobby's kitchen was enough to short circuit his brain and sent him reeling. Accepting Sam's return was easy, after all, it wasn't first time one of them had come back from the dead, but not John. John who had died long before Alistair and Lilith, before Lucifer and Michael, had no place there. He had lived in a time when spirits, werewolves and shifters were their biggest concerns, when demons were almost unheard of and angels a thing of myth. That time felt like a lifetime ago.

And then there was Crowley. Dean was pretty certain his dad wouldn't approve of his demon lover. Not that Sam would either, but Sam wasn't a problem. His brother would whine, and bitch and stomp his feet but John was dangerous. John could cause serious problems. Dean could feel the warm metal of the ring Crowley had given him burning against his finger.

He never took it off and half the time he forgot it was there but at that moment he had never been more aware of anything in his life. It was like a beacon, standing out sharply and calling attention. He fiddled with it absently, twirling it around with his thumb. Crowley often teased him for wearing on the ring finger of his left hand but it was the only finger it fit comfortably on.

He began to feel light headed and realised with a start it was because he'd stopped breathing a while ago. Forcing air into his lungs was difficult as his body recovered from his brain's little holiday. His attention came back to the room and the back of his neck became hot when he noticed everyone was staring at him.

"You ok son?" Bobby asked hesitantly, clearly not wanting to be the first to break the silence.

Dean snorted and made a beeline for the liquor cabinet. It didn't escape his notice the nasty look John sent Bobby's way at calling Dean son. "Not really no." he choked out, grabbing the bottle of Johnnie Walker and holding onto it like a lifeline.

"I thought you'd stopped drinking spirits?" Bobby pointed out.

Dean laughed bitterly and poured himself a drink. "Yeah well, I thought my brother and dad were dead and yet here we are."

Bobby was right though. He shouldn't be drinking. It had taken him nearly a year before he stopped needing alcohol to sleep or just to get through the day. However, his world was currently crashing down around him so a bit of liquor was justified right? Taking hold of the full glass he leaned against the kitchen counter and stared at Sam and John, trying to think of anything to say.

"Why are you so upset about this?" Sam asked finally, hurt colouring his voice. "Didn't you miss me?"

Dean shifted as the wave of guilt washed over him. Smiling apologetically he walked over and pulled Sam into a crushing hug, trying to ignore the lump in his chest. He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't.

"Of course I missed you Sam. You have no idea how much. I'm happy you're alive and I hope I'm wrong, but when has one of us coming back ever been a good thing? Someone bought you two back for a reason, there are going to be strings attached, there are always consequences and those consequences always end up fucking us over!" he explained once he'd pulled back from the embrace.

He could feel John's presence near him and knew the older man was expecting a hug also. Pretending it didn't feel awkward he pulled his dad into a strong one armed hug and moved away much sooner than he had with Sam. Why it felt awkward he didn't know and reminded himself to think on it later. Heading back to his drink he leaned against the counter.

He raised the glass and had every intention of downing it in one shot but something stopped him. He'd worked too hard and for too long getting his life together to throw it all away. He didn't want to end up a drunk like his dad, like Bobby and Rufus. So he put the untouched drink back on the kitchen counter and pushed down the desire to drink it. Thankfully John provided a distraction.

"What took you so long to get here? You on a hunt?"

Dean's head started spinning once more when he heard that deep, rough voice for the first time six years. "No. I wasn't on a hunt. I live in Minnesota."

"You moved out?" Sam asked, surprised.

"Yeah. Bout a year ago."

"So how do you hunt?"

Dean had really been hoping not to have this discussion with John. It was going to be unpleasant.

"I don't. I….retired."

"Retired? What do you mean retired?" John's voice was beginning to take on a very familiar tone. The 'you better not be saying what I think you're saying' tone Dean knew so well.

"I mean retired. As in, I have a mortgage, a nine to five job. I pay bills and taxes. I have a life."

"There's no such thing. You're a hunter Dean! And a damn good one! You can't just quit!"

Six years ago Dean would have backed down when John shot him that look and spoke in that tone. He would have apologised and conceded that John was right and he was wrong. But six years ago he hadn't fought demons and angles. He hadn't stood up against Satan himself and all the might of Heaven. Six years ago he hadn't been to Hell and back, hadn't sat across from Death and held his own. He had stood up to much more powerful things than John Winchester and won. And he'd be damned if he was going to let John order him around like a child.

"I can't?" every once of self control was needed to keep himself from screaming. "I am thirty-two years old. I stopped needed your permission a long time ago. You have no idea about the things I've done, the sacrifices I've made! I have done terrible things but you know what, I've done a lot of good as well. I saved the fucking world, how many people can say that? So I'm done! It's someone else's job now."

"Your job is to save people Dean!"

"I've saved enough people. I deserve to live my own life." Dean growled. No one had any right to tell him he'd hadn't done enough. He'd spent the majority of his life saving strangers. He'd earned the right to be happy.

"Can we not do this? Not here, not now." Sam cut in, pleading softly.

Dean bit back the nasty words he so desperately wanted to throw at John. Sam was right, Now wasn't the right time. Thankfully living with Crowley had done wonders for his anger management skills. Living with a cocky demon you learned quickly how to avoid getting angry, otherwise he would have strangled Crowley months ago. Sighing heavily he turned his attention to Bobby and ignored John's sour face. If he was so angry about Dean quitting, he didn't even want to think about how livid he would be when he found out about the whole demon lover thing.

"Do we know anything? Or are we completely in the dark?" he asked Bobby.

"They arrived separately, hours a part. Sam was first, I was dealing with him when John knocked on my front door. Thought I'd finally lost it. I mean, Sam coming back from the dead stopped being shocking the second time it happened, but John standing on my front step? That's a new one." Bobby shrugged.

Dean sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes. He wondered if there was any chance he could just back in the car, drive home and curl up the couch and pretend none of this was happening. Probably not. "So we have nothing?"

"Pretty much."


Bobby shifted uncomfortably for a moment, glancing between Sam and John before motioning Dean to follow him into the hallway. "I need to speak to you."

Dean frowned but followed him, wondering what he didn't want to say in front of Sam and John. As soon as the they rounded the corner, out of sight and hearing from the others Bobby rubbed his face tiredly.

"You have to take them to yours." Bobby demanded suddenly.

"What? Why?" Dean asked shocked, he couldn't take Sam and Bobby to his house.

"Look Dean, my patience hasn't gotten any better over the years. John has been here for five hours and I already want to blast him full of buckshot! You have to take him!"

"I can't take him! Either of them! I have a fucking demon boyfriend sitting in my lounge room." Dean hissed, careful to keep his voice down.

"You don't have a choice. Sam is going to want to stay with you and John won't stay with me. What are you going to tell when they ask why they're not allowed at your home?"

"It's not fucking happening!"

"Get your shit, you're both coming home with me." Dean muttered sullenly. How the fuck did Bobby get him to agree to this?

Sam smiled and headed upstairs to his old bedroom where his stuff was kept. Neither Dean nor Bobby had the heart to throw it away after he died to it was still sat exactly where he left it. John left to go and raid the garage for the guns he'd left at Bobby's year ago and Dean took the opportunity to slip outside and get some much needed fresh air. He was busy contemplating how he was going to explain to Crowley exactly why he needed to disappear for a few days when his phone rung.


'I'm not going to be home when you get back.'


There was no way he could be that lucky.

'Who else could it possibly be? Fuck, you better hope you never loose your looks Darling.'

"Shove it. Do you know when you'll be back?"


Dean desperately wanted to know what Crowley was up to. It must be something massive or he would just get someone else to deal with it. But he didn't ask because he had bigger things to worry about and he was learning quickly not to ask Crowley what he was doing because he very rarely liked the answers.

"Right well, pop by whenever you can."

'I always do.'

The phone went silent and Dean realised the demon had hung up on him. Crowley's complete lack of sarcasm and wit told Dean just how serious whatever he was dealing with was.

"You ready?"

Dean jumped guiltily. He'd forgotten how good his dad was at sneaking up on people.

"Not yet. Waiting on Sam."

John nodded absently and leaned against the car next to him. "We're going to discuss this whole retiring business." he promised after a moment of silence.

"That's going to be hard considering there's nothing to discuss."

"You never used to talk to me like that." John growled.

"You've been dead for six years. Things change."

He was saved from John's angry retort by the arrival of Sam. He pushed himself off the car and slipped in the drivers seat, waiting for Sam to throw his duffle bag in the boot. John sat in the passengers seat and Sam climbed into the back seat. Without a word he started the car and sped off down the driveway.


They drove in silence for most of the way and Dean was beginning to think that maybe they would reach their destination without any fighting. Once again, he was proven wrong. He was so focused on the road that he didn't notice the light from the street lights catching on his ring and drawing John's attention.

"That's a nice ring."

"Yes it is." Dean muttered, not liking the direction of the conversation.

"Looks like a wedding ring." John pushed.

"Well it's not."

"What kind of ring is it?"

John really wasn't going to let it go and Dean swallowed a curse.

"It's a Luckenbooth. It's an old Scottish love token." Sam chimed in, having leaned forward to see what John was talking about.

"Thank you for sharing that Sammy." Dean hissed, sending his brother a glare.

"You're seeing someone." John grunted, disapproval seeping from every pore in his body. "And it's serious judging from the ring."

"I don't want to talk about it." Dean's tone made it perfectly clear the subject was closed and thankfully John let it drop. For the moment at least.

He hated himself for not wanting to tell his dad about Crowley, after all it seemed hypercritical after his declaration of not caring what his dad thought. But as much as he loathed to admit it, a tiny part of him still cared about John's opinion. Twenty years of being taught to take orders from the man had ingrained it in him and it was a hard habit to beat, especially with John sitting next to him.

He hated it. It had taken years for him to stop listening to his dad's voice inside his head telling him he wasn't good enough, that he'd never be good enough. Years to overcome the constant self doubt and an hour with his dad caused it all to unravel and he was back to being old Dean again.

Thankfully his words halted the conversation and they continued the drive in silence but he could still feel the combined heat of Sam's questioning glancing and John's disapproving ones. The rest of the journey passed quietly and as they pulled into his driveway, Dean couldn't help but smirk at the look of shock on Sam's face.

"Christ Dean. You went full on domestic."

The words drew a huff from John and Dean was sure he could actually feel his own blood pressure shoot through the roof. It was becoming clear that the same words and attitude that would once have caused waves and quilt and a sense of failure now only caused contempt and the urge to break something, preferably his dad's jaw. He would definitely have to keep an eye on that.

He stepped out of the car and headed up to the house. Walking up the five steps to the his front door had never caused such twisting in his stomach. He was trying to remember if he had anything in the house that would give Crowley and himself away. Thankfully neither of them liked posing for pictures so that wasn't a problem.

The only thing of Crowley's he had was a blood stained suit but that was already in the laundry basket so it wouldn't be a problem. By the time he'd finished mentally scanning the house, Sam and John were standing behind him with their bags. So with a quiet sigh and ignoring the voice inside his head telling him this was a very bad idea, he unlocked the door and gestured for them to go inside. They stepped into a dark hallway and Dean flicked on the light before throwing his keys onto a small table near the door. He guided them into the living room and rubbed his eyes, it was getting late and his eyes were burning.

"There's a spare bedroom at the end of the hall but someone is gonna have to take the couch." he muttered, taking of his jacket and throwing over the back of the arm chair.

"I'll take the couch." John spoke up before Sam could speak.

Sam shot their dad a thankful look and Dean was beginning to think their time apart had done John and Sam good. If he was lucky they would get through this with as little screaming as possible. Well at least until they found out about his little demon love affair and then the screaming would probably wake the neighbours.

He had no delusion that he would be able to keep it a secret for much longer. They were both tired and still reeling from the past few hours but tomorrow would come and so would the questions. If you're living with someone, where are they? Can we meet her? What's her name? Why wont you tell us Dean? If it's not serious, why are you wearing what looks suspiciously like a wedding ring? Dean, why are there another man's clothes in the laundry?

"Right well. I'm going to bed. Yell if you need anything." Dean sighed turning away and leaving the room before John or Sam could say anything.

He knew he was acting like a child and his dismissive nature towards them was both hurtful and unnecessary. It wasn't their fault this was happening but he just couldn't deal with it at the moment. He dragged himself to his bedroom and closed the door behind him. He kicked o his shoes across the room, followed by his jeans and shirt.

He stared at the mess and was glad Crowley wasn't there to yell at him for not picking up his clothes. For someone who spent a lot of his time elbow deep in blood and other bodily fluids, Crowley really was anal about keeping the house clean. Throwing himself on the bed he buried his face the pillow with a groan. He should be in the middle of another round of mind blowing sex right now but instead he was in bed alone, dreading the morning.

The tension in his body was making his head hurt and he rolled over onto his back. Closing his eyes he breathed deeply as his hand drifted over his chest and inched down to the hem of his boxers before slipping inside. He hadn't done this in a long time but desperate times called for desperate measures. He relaxed his muscles and allowed his favourite fantasy to take over.


The morning came sooner than Dean would have liked and with a headache already beginning he made his way to the kitchen. Any hope of the night before being a highly realistic dream was dashed when he saw Sam sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper and his dad was rummaging through his fridge. Fuck me.

Dean moved over to the kettle and made himself a coffee before leaning against the kitchen bench, staring at his dad who was swearing at a bottle of orange juice.

"What are you doing?" he asked finally.

"Where's the beer? You have three different juices but no fucking beer." John grunted unhappily, pushing aside a packet of butter as though the beer was hiding from him.

"It's seven in the morning." Dean pointed out. Apparently being dead for half a decade hadn't done anything for his dad's drinking problem.

All he got in answer was the crash of the fridge door being slammed shut and a disgruntled look.

"What happened to you Dean?" John asked, sitting down next to Sam.

"I grew up." Dean answered simply, taking his place at the table.

John snorted and stood up suddenly, leaving the kitchen with a huff. Suddenly Dean didn't feel so bad about acting like a child, apparently it ran in the family.

"So what's her name?" Sam asked suddenly, gesturing towards Dean's ring.


Sam froze and blinked at him stupidly. Dean's eyes widened as his brain caught up with his mouth. His stupid, stupid mouth. That was not how he'd planned on telling Sam and he thanked every god he knew that John had already left the kitchen. The silence between them was deafening as Dean waited for Sam to speak. It took a moment but he eventually saw the understanding spark in Sam's eyes and his jaw clenching in anger.

"Are you shitting me?" Sam hissed angrily, leaning over the table. "Crowley? Crossroad demon Crowley?"

"No, the other Crowley we know."

Sam's eye twitched and Dean cursed silently. So not the time for jokes Dean.

"You're fucking Crowley?"

"Kind of?"

"Kind of? Yes or no Dean?" Sam pushed and Dean could almost hear Sam's teeth grinding.


Sam leaned back in the chair and shook his head in shock. "I knew it! I knew you were too close! You know you have to stop right? Dad will have a heart attack."

"I can't do that Sam."

"You have to! Find someone else to fuck."

Dean sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. He was just thankful Sam was yelling, something he had a feeling would change in the next ten seconds.

"We're not just having sex Sam. We live together, have done for a year. I love him." Dean whispered. There were only two people he'd ever admitted that to.

Sam cocked his head and looked at Dean liked he'd just grown a second head. Dean become worried when Sam hadn't blinked in a while.

"I'm not sure what to do that information." Sam muttered slowly. "This is so wrong I don't even know where to begin. You have to end it Dean."

"No. I have a life with Crowley and I'm not giving that up. Not for you, not for dad, not for anyone."

"Dad's right Dean. You've changed, and not for the better. What happened to the Dean who used to dry heave whenever he was in the same room as a demon?"

"I'm not going to explain myself to you Sam."

"Fine. Then how about you explain yourself to dad?"

Dean raised his eyebrows at Sam's not so subtle threat to tell dad. He suppressed a snort, his little brother had a lot to learn about offering ultimatums.

"You know what Sam, that is a excellent idea! And after you've told dad about Crowley, I bet he would love to hear all about Ruby and your little demon blood addiction don't you?"

Sam shifted in his seat uncomfortably and glared at Dean.

"Or, you can mind your own god damn business and we'll both keep our mouths shut. How does that sound?" Dean asked, smiling innocently.

Apparently one of the better skills he'd picked up from Crowley was how to blackmail someone successfully.

"Where's dad?" Dean asked, suddenly realising John hadn't returned from his storm out.

"Look, fine! I'll keep my mouth shut!" Sam was clearly terrified of John finding out about Ruby.

"Yeah that's great. But seriously, where's dad?"

Dean stood up, his stomach twisting as his instincts kicked in. Something was wrong. He hesitantly made his way to the lounge room, Sam following behind him.

"Dad?" Dean called out, not liking the silence that answered.

The lounge room was deserted but there was something in the air that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Cursing his utter lack of any weapons, his stomach jolted when he saw his dad spread out unconscious on the floor behind the couch.


A sharp pain to the back of the head.


Chapter Text

Dean came back to consciousness with a jerk. It had been a long time since he'd been knocked out and he was reminded how unpleasant it was. As he shifted slightly it came to his attention that he was tied down rather tightly to one of his dinning room chairs and judging by the moans and muffled groans next to him, Sam and his dad were in the same situation.

Cracking open an eye he served the room and his gaze quickly fell on the three figures standing in the doorway to the hallway. Two large, dangerous looking henchmen standing either side of a petite brunette. He had no idea who the two goons were but he knew the woman. It would seem his past had finally caught up with him.

"Hi Meg."

"Hello Dean. You know, today must be my lucky day. I came for you and instead I get this wonderful surprise. Three Winchesters for the price of one. Its like Christmas and Birthday all at once."

Meg smiled brightly, something that made Dean immensely uncomfortable and pulled a knife from her back pocket. Not just any knife, Ruby's knife.

Seriously? Like I don't have enough to deal with?

Looking over Dean noted thankfully that although glaring hatefully, both Sam and John were keeping their mouths shut. He needed to think and having his brother and his dad yelling wasn't going to help. The first thought that crossed his mind was that Meg had something to do with bringing Sam and John back but he quickly dismissed it. They were already dead, she would gain nothing from bringing them back and the look of shock in her eyes when she looked at them was enough to convince him.

Meg's only concern was Crowley. Dean knew for a fact Crowley was currently hunting down any Lucifer loyalists and Meg was at the top of his list. She'd been on the run for months but he must he closing in, he could practically smell the desperation and fear rolling off her. He was her last chance. As much a Crowley would deny it, Dean was his weakness and Meg knew it. Get to him, get to Crowley.

"What do you want Meg?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

Meg smiled and moved over to straddle him, pushing her body against his. Dean could feel his gag reflex acting up and turned his head away from her. She laughed and grabbed his face painfully tight, forcing him to look at her.

"I want to cut your liver out with a bread knife. However you're worth nothing to me if you're dead so that will have to wait."

The weight of her body pressing against him made him want to heave and her touch made his skin crawl. She stunk of stale sweat, her hair was greasy and her clothes hadn't been washed in months.

"You were harder to find than I thought. Crowley is very good at hiding his toys."

"Crowley? This is about Crowley? Oh that's just fucking fantastic! Well done Dean!" Sam yelled, struggling the ropes that bound him.

"Oh, Sammy knows does he? How's he taking it? Not well I'm guessing?" Meg purred, digging her nails into Dean's face.

"Fuck you Sam!"

"No, fuck you Dean! I told you it would bring nothing but trouble. Seven billion people in the world, you chose Crowley and now we're all fucked!"

"You don't know what you're talking about Sam. You have no idea about my relationship with Crowley so keep your mouth shut." Dean growled in warning. Sam had no right to judge something he didn't understand. He didn't even know Crowley, not like Dean did.

"Who the fuck is Crowley?" John quiet words bought the room to a standstill.

Dean had never thought it was possible to hate, truly hate his own brother but in that moment he did.

"Oh this is just perfect! Daddy Winchester doesn't know! Can I tell him? Please Dean let me do it." Meg begged and Dean felt something he hadn't felt since his time in Hell. He wanted to hurt her, really hurt her. He wanted to make her scream and beg for death before denying it to her. The extremely violent nature of his thoughts made him uncomfortable, he'd spent the better part of four years keeping that side of him, the side Alistair had bought out tightly tucked away. His body was shaking in suppressed rage and his fingers itched to circle Meg's throat. The strength of his hatred knocked the breath out of him and it was then he knew he had to push it down and quickly. It was clouding his thoughts, making it hard for him to see through the haze of anger and that was dangerous in his current situation.

"Crowley is a crossroads demon but after Lucifer went back in the cage he became the King of Hell." Dean explained when he'd calmed down meeting John's gaze head on and refusing to look away. "He's also the man I've been dating. He's the one who gave me this ring. We live together. That's why Meg is here. She's going to use me to get to Crowley."

Dean waited. He waited for the yelling and the screaming. Waited for the ranting, for John to tell him the same thing Sam and Bobby told him only louder. Waited for the hurtful words and ultimatums. They never came. Instead he got silence. John turned his gaze away from him and focused it on the wall opposite. The rejection hit Dean in the stomach and for a second he forgot how to breathe.

"I've never been more disappointed in you." John's voice was barely above a whisper but it didn't matter. The room was absolutely silent, Sam sitting awkwardly between them while Meg and her bodyguards were enjoying the tense atmosphere.

Dean tried to catch Sam's eyes but he couldn't. "You're such a hypocrite Sam. After everything you did with Ruby!" he hissed when he realised Sam was avoiding his gaze because he agreed with John. For some reason, Sam's disappointment hurt much more than John's did.

"You keep using Ruby as an excuse. Like because I did it, that makes it alright! Look at the chaos it caused. I thought I had a handle on it, I thought I was in control but I wasn't! Just like you aren't in control! Crowley is a demon and no matter how sweet and nice he is to you, he will never be anything else!"

"You are so full of bullshit Sam! You've been gone for over a year and been back for a little over ten hours. You have know nothing about my life with Crowley! You've met him what; four times in total? You've never even seen us together!" At that point Dean had completely forgotten he had a pissed off demon sitting in his lap with a knife held to his neck.

"You don't need to see something to know it's wrong." John murmured quietly. "I thought I taught you that at least."

"No. You taught me if it feels wrong, it probably is. It doesn't feel wrong."

"Dad's right Dean."

"Oh that's just great. Twenty years of being at each of throats about every fucking little thing and this is the one thing you finally agree on! Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"Dean I'm feeling ignored. I don't like it." Meg spoke up, cutting Sam off before he could snap back.

The knife pressed against heavier against his skin and he could feel blood trickling down his neck.

"How do you think this is going to go Meg? Are you going to ransom me in exchange for your life?" he sneered, giving her his attention.

Where the hell was Crowley? The demon living across the road he wasn't supposed to know about must have gotten word to him by now.

"That's the plan handsome."

"Well it's a pretty shitty plan. Do you really think Crowley is going to just let you walk away?" he pushed his face closer to Meg's. "He is going to skin you alive. And you know what? I'm going to be right there watching while he does. Do you think if I ask nicely he'll let me have a go? There is nothing I'd enjoy more than having your blood running through my fingers."

"All you'd have to do is ask baby."

Dean felt his heart jump at the sound of the rough British voice coming from the hallway and a cruel smile broke across his face when Meg's eyes flashed with fear. The knife dug deeper into his flesh but before she could inflict any serious damage, she was pulled off him with such force Dean wasn't too sure what had happened for a moment. Crowley had her on her knees, a strong hand in her hair and holding her in place. She grunted when the knife was kicked out of her hand. Dean couldn't control the warmth in his stomach at the display of power from his lover mixed with a flood of relief.

Dean looked over Crowley's shoulder, wondering who was taking care for Meg's goons. Simon and Daniel, two of Crowley's higher-level demons were holding them firmly in place as they waited for orders.

"Hey Dean." Daniel grunted, putting more pressure on the demon's throat to stop him squirming. "How are things going? You having a family reunion or something?"

"You have no fucking idea how weird the last twelve hours have been."

"Your supposedly dead brother and dad sitting next to you gives me good idea."

"You know where to take them." Crowley ordered over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off Meg.

Simon and Daniel disappeared with their respective hostage, leaving Dean to stare at a glaring Sam.

"What?" he snapped, so far beyond caring about anything Sam said.

"You're friends with them now?" Sam demanded, frowning heavily.

"Fuck off Sam. Oh and Crowley, you gonna help or just leave me tied to a chair."

"But you look so pretty tied up." Crowley smirked, taking his eyes off Meg for the first time.

"Crowley!" Dean hissed in warning, he did not need Crowley to make the atmosphere in the room any more uncomfortable than it already was.

Crowley rolled his eyes and sighed before flicking his wrist and snapping the ropes around Dean's wrists easily. As Dean stood up another demon appeared, one he didn't recognise and took hold of Meg firmly.

"You and I are going to have so much fun." Crowley promised her, causing her to shiver in fear and Dean couldn't blame her.

Crowley was pissed and even he knew to stay away from Crowley when he was this angry. Meg stuck her jaw out defiantly but it did nothing to hide the fear in her eyes.

"Can you untie Sam and dad as well?" Dean asked hesitantly once Meg had been taken away, presumably to where ever the other two had been taken.

Crowley's attention snapped to John and Sam as though noticing them for the first time. His eyes narrowed at Sam, a gesture that Sam returned before flicking his eyes towards John.

"Ah yes. I was wondering about that."

Crowley's silky smooth voice made it perfectly clear to Dean that he better start explaining and quickly. The only problem was that it was hard to explain what was going on when he didn't understand it himself. His hesitation only made things worse when Crowley shot him a look usually reserved for Sam.

"Kitchen. Now." Crowley growled, grabbed Dean's arm tightly and guiding him past John and Sam and into the kitchen.

Dean did his best to ignore the painful grip but it was hard. A small part of him was worried that Crowley was actually annoyed enough to hurt him, and he could hurt him if he wanted to. Not that he couldn't take Crowley in a fight, he was pretty sure that even without a weapon he could put Crowley on his ass but that wasn't the point.

"Talk." Crowley demanded when they were out of sight.

"Let them go first."

Crowley rolled his eyes and clicked his fingers but not without a sour look on his face. "There. Now what the fuck did you do Dean?"

The pure anger in his voice made Dean take a step back. He'd seen Crowley angry plenty of times but never directed at him. Frustrated maybe, but never angry and it made him more than a little nervous. He knew better than anyone what Crowley was capable of doing when he was angry.

"I didn't do anything!" Dean swore, a bit annoyed that Crowley was accusing him of something. "But while we're having question time, care to tell me exactly what Meg and her goons were doing here? How did they know about us?" he shot back.

"Every demon knows! Do you think they've stayed away for the past year out of common curtsey? They stayed away because I made it very clear you were off limits and what the consequences would be if they came after you." Crowley sneered and Dean had to strongly resist the urge to punch the demon. He really wasn't in the mood to deal with Crowley's snark.

Dean opened his mouth to shoot back a response but closed it suddenly. Crowley had been after Meg for months, there was no way he hadn't known she was going to come after him. Crowley had known. He'd known Meg was coming and used him as bait. That was why he'd planned on staying topside longer than usual, he'd been waiting.

Damn it Dean! I should have seen that coming. I knew Crowley was up to something; he never stays longer than a few days. I've gone soft.

It was in that moment Dean realised just how much he had changed since meeting Crowley. His instincts had told him something was wrong but he'd ignored it because it was Crowley. Crowley who played with his hair to help him fall asleep and kissed the back of neck to wake him up. Crowley who watched Dr Sexy MD with him even though he hated it. The Crowley who Dean would have bet his life on would never do anything to hurt him.

"I'm not sure what I'm more pissed off about. The fact that you didn't tell me Meg was after me or the fact that you knew and still left last night to do god only knows what!"

"I had to leave to deal with whatever fucked up mess you've got going on in there!" Crowley roared, pointing to the lounge room. "Do you have any idea the amount of power needed to bring those two back? Even I can't swing that. When that kind of power is used, there are signs. I knew something big had happened I just wasn't sure what. But now I know once again, you have done something monumentally stupid!"

"Exactly what do you think I've done? Look at me! Do I really look like I have a fucking clue about what's going on? What, do think I sold my soul?" Dean yelled back, not caring that Sam and John were probably hearing everything.

"Of course I don't. No demon would touch your soul, it belongs to me."

Dean filed that sentence away for later, that was definitely a whole other conversation that was going to happen. Sighing heavily he felt himself deflate, the anger leaving him like a puff of hot air. He didn't even know why he was arguing with Crowley. Probably because he was stressed and needed someone to yell at. But with Sam and his dad coming at him from both sides, arguing with the one person who was on his side was stupid.

"So if not that. What do you think I've done?" he asked, hearing the exhaustion in his own voice.

"I don't know. But I know it's bad and I know that whatever it is, you're messing with something you shouldn't be messing with."

Dean took note of the softening of Crowley's face and was thankful that they were both calming down. Swallowing nervously he made a split second decision and stepped towards the demon until their bodies were touching and their faces inches apart.

"Do you trust me?" he asked softly.

Crowley blinked slowly and rested his forehead against Dean's. Dean was too busy marveling at the difference between the Crowley standing in front of him and the Crowley from five minutes. This was the Crowley only he got to see. The Crowley Sam, dad and Bobby would never understand.

"I never trust anyone."

Dean snorted and pulled their heads apart before cupping Crowley's face and playing with the short beard. "Do you remember the first time you took me to Hell?"

"When you freaked out and called me an evil bastard?"

"I'm pretty sure those weren't my exact words but close enough. Anyway, you asked me to trust you and even though common sense told me not to I did. I still do. Even tied to that chair, I knew you'd come for me. I trust you with my life, more importantly, with my soul."

Crowley's eyes hardened and he pulled away, putting distance between them. Dean knew he was slipping back into defense mode. Cocky, sarcastic Crowley was coming back into play.

"Where are you going with this Dean?"

"It's my turn. I'm asking you to trust me. Trust me when I tell you I had nothing to do with bringing Sam and my dad back. Trust me when I say I would never do anything to jeopardies the life we've built together."

Dean was well aware of the fact he sounded like a bad romance movie but he wasn't sure how else to say what he wanted to say. As much as he tried to convince himself otherwise he sometimes felt their relationship was a bit one sided. He felt like he had more invested in this relationship than Crowley did. He had a bad feeling that things were only going to become more and more difficult over the next week or so and it wouldn't work if they didn't trust each other.

Too caught up in his own head he didn't see Crowley moving towards him. He grunted as Crowley crushed their bodies together and took Dean's face in his hand, eerily similar to the way Meg had except a lot less painful. Their eyes locked and Dean's breathing hitched when Crowley's eyes flickered to red, arousal pooling in his stomach.

"Never trust anyone Dean. That's the rule that's gotten to where I am today. But then again, I find myself all sorts of things for the first time for you."

Crowley's hot breath ghosted over his face and Dean couldn't control the stupid grin on his face as Crowley's words coursed through him, causing him to shiver pleasantly. Sighing happily, Dean wrapped his arms around Crowley's neck and buried his face into the soft skin. He was thankful for the extra strength the demon possessed as he was practically hanging off him. For the first time since getting the call from Bobby he felt safe and content. Crowley's body heat soothing him and the smell of his cologne calming him like nothing else could.

He sunk further into the hold and Crowley responded with a tight arm curling around his waist and rubbed soothing circles on his lower back.

"I don't know if can do this Crowley." He muttered against the skin of the demon's neck.

"You don't have to do anything. I'll take care of it." Crowley promised, cringing inside at the thought of dealing with Sam and John for any period of time.

"No. My family, my problems."

"Well isn't this charming."

Dean groaned at the sound of Sam's voice but pulled away from Crowley and turned to face Sam and John who were stood in the kitchen doorway. He was secretly thrilled when Crowley didn't let go of his waist, continuing to hold him tight.

"Samantha." Crowley sneered in greeting.

"Demon scum." Sam returned, cocking his head and glaring at Crowley in a way that made the hair on the back of Dean's neck stand on end.

Crowley turned his attention the John when he realized the older man was just staring at him. "John Winchester, the man himself."

"So you're the demon who's brainwashed my son." John growled.

"Dean doesn't do anything he doesn't want to. And he just happens to want to do me. Or more accurately for me to do him."

"Watch how you speak to me." John warned, grinded his teeth so forcefully Dean was sure he could hear it from the other side of the room.

"Please, you're not nearly as threatening as you think you are. I will rip you to pieces, Dean's father or not." Crowley's smooth voice washing over the room and Dean couldn't help but laugh silently to himself.

John really thought he was the most dangerous person in the room. He still had no idea how much things had changed since his death.

"I'd like to see you try."

Crowley moved forward but Dean stopped him by placing a firm hand on his chest. He had no doubt Crowley would win in a fight against John but he really didn't want to be mopping up his dad's blood from the kitchen tiles.

"Drop it. Both of you."

Crowley tensed for a moment before relaxing against him once more and Dean watched as John shifted his stance into a less threatening pose. Dean glanced up at Crowley and realised why Sam was shooting him such odd looks.

"Crowley. Eyes."

Crowley blinked and his eyes returned back to normal but the damage was done. Sam and John were looking at him differently and Dean was reminded what it felt like to see those eyes for the first time. It was a strange feeling, seeing the undeniable proof that Crowley was a demon. Although Sam and John were having a much different reaction than he did. Fear was clouding their eyes and Dean could tell Sam was resisting the urge to take a step back.

"Look, we don't have time to have a staring competition. The sooner we figure this out, the sooner we can all get on with our lives." Dean cut in; someone had to be the voice of reason.

"Do you mean the life that I'm no longer welcome in?" Sam asked, hurt coloring his voice.

"You're my brother and I love you Sam. Nothing will ever change that, but until you learn to accept that I've made my choices concerning Crowley; No, you're not welcome in my life or my home."

"Dean? I have to take care of Meg, make sure she's being dealt with appropriately. Do you want to come with me?" Crowley asked quietly, not wanting to leave Dean alone.

Dean smiled at the gesture and kissed Crowley on the check even though what he really wanted to do was drag him upstairs and fuck him silly. "No. You go. I want to have a chat with my dad. Sam my laptop in the lounge room. Go and see if you can find anything that might explain what the fuck is happening."

Sam nodded and left the kitchen but not before glancing hesitantly at John. Crowley kissed Dean softly before disappearing with a snap and leaving Dean alone with his dad. Turning to face his dad, Dean sighed and leaned against the kitchen table. He tried to catch John's eyes but he couldn't and he rolled his eyes when he realised John was going to make things as difficult as possible.

"Are you just going to ignore me? Or are we going to talk like adults?"

John sighed and Dean was surprised by how defeated he looked.

"You know. The day you were born I knew there was noting you could ever do to make me stop loving you. I knew that no mater what you did or who you became, I would love you regardless." John sighed again and Dean felt a spark of hope that maybe, just maybe everything would be alright. "I was wrong."

Maybe not.

"Are saying you don't love me anymore?"

"I'm saying I can't even look at you right now. I'm saying you're no longer my son."

Dean froze and what little affection he left for his dad disappeared. "Fine. When this is done. We go our separate ways."

John nodded and left the kitchen, heading into the lounge room and leaving Dean alone in the kitchen.

Chapter Text

Dean wasn't sure how long he stayed in the kitchen, all he knew that when he finally entered the lounge room his dad was nowhere in sight and Sam was hunched over his laptop, pretending he didn't exist. Dean sighed and slid into the chair across from Sam, resting his elbows on the dining table. Sam continued to ignore him so he reached forward and snapped the laptop shut. Sam grunted and leaned back in the chair, folding his arms and glaring at Dean.

"Come on man. I've already got dad pretending I'm invisible, I don't need you ignoring me too."

"What do you want me to say Dean?"

"Well you could start with where dad is." Dean asked, the thought of John wandering around the house made him very uncomfortable. He didn't need his dad rifling through his things.

"Said he was going for a walk."

"Yeah, a walk to the nearest bar." Dean snorted darkly. Perfect. Just what he needed. "Come on Sammy. Dad's not here, Crowley's not here. It's just you and me. Say what you wanna say."

Sam sighed and unfolded his arms with a shrug. "I just don't…. I don't understand how you can think this is alright. You've always been the moral one, the one who sees everything in black and white. How did this happen Dean?"

"Look, I know that if I were in your position and it was you playing house with a demon, I would be acting the same way you are. And I know there would be nothing you could say to make me think otherwise, but I'm going to try anyway." Dean answered quietly, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "We are both very different to the people we were when all this started. We have both done things we never thought we were capable of and do you know what I've come to realise? I'm not the person I thought I was."

"Yeah. I'm getting that. What's your point Dean?"

"There's something twisted inside me Sam. Something dark that I keep hidden. I didn't even know it was there until I went to Hell and met Alistair. It scares me, so I push it away and I cover it with sarcasm and humor. You have no idea what I thought about doing to Meg and if you did, it would make you uncomfortable. It would anyone uncomfortable." Dean felt the words pouring out and he couldn't stop them. Oddly enough he didn't want to. It felt good telling Sam about something he'd kept hidden for so long, a part he'd only shared with Crowley up until that moment.

"But not Crowley." Sam guessed.

"No. Not Crowley. He understands, he never judges and I know that no matter what I say it won't freak him out or scare him off. In fact, I'm pretty sure he likes my sadistic side."

"Of course he does Dean! He's a sadist. And you love him. You love him so much you've given up everything. So what happens when he breaks your heart? Or when you get tired of playing the doting housewife and you want your old life back? What are you going to do when every hunter and demon knows about your little trip to the suburbs? No one will work with you, you'll be black listed!"

"You gave up everything for Jess." Dean pointed out.

"Yeah and that worked out brilliantly!"

Dean sighed and decided to try something else, going the Jessica route had been a badly thought out idea. "Your problem is that when you look at him you just see Crowley the crossroads demon."

"What else am I supposed to see? That's what he is!"

"Actually he's not a crossroads demon anymore but that's not really the point. The point is; there is more to him than being a complete bastard. Yes, he's an utter sadist but that's not all he is." Dean tried to explain but even he could tell he wasn't doing a very good job.

"Well what is he Dean? What do you see that I don't?" Sam demanded, needing to know why of all people Dean had chosen a demon.

He wanted to be happy for Dean, he wanted to believe that Dean had finally found someone who could make him happy but he was having a very hard understanding why that someone had to be Crowley.

Dean knew Crowley would kill him when he found out what he was about to tell Sam but he didn't care. Despite what he tried to tell himself, he needed Sam on his side, he wanted Sam to approve.

"I see the man who stood by side when no one else did. I see the man who held my hand when I thought I was going to die. The man who watches crappy daytime television with me even though he hates it, who goes grocery shopping with me and goes with me to barbeques. I see the Crowley who reminded me why the world was worth saving." Dean was sure he was smiling like an idiot but he didn't care. Crowley had the ability to turn him into a thirteen-year-old girl and he'd accepted that a long time ago.

"That sounds…. Really nice actually." Sam admitted softly as though hesitant to let the words out. "I'll never like him Dean, something about him just sets me on edge."

"I'm not asking you to like him Sam. I'm asking you to accepted my choices, to be civil to him. I'll make sure he does the same." Dean promised quickly, not looking forward when he told Crowley what he'd promised.

"Does he really go grocery shopping with you?" Sam asked suddenly, a smile on his face.

Dean laughed and took that as Sam's acceptance. "Yeah he does. Complains the whole fucking time though."

Sam laughed and there was a moment of comfortable silence as they both smiled at each other and for the first time since walking into Bobby's kitchen, Dean felt like he had his brother back. After a moment, Sam became serious again and looked at Dean.

"Does he love you Dean?"

Dean paused at the question and frowned thoughtfully. Not really sure how to answer. He'd never had to answer that question before. "I think so. I mean, he's never actually said it but sometimes I catch him looking at me when he thinks I'm not paying attention and I see something in his eyes. I'm…I'm pretty sure it's love."

"You know Dean, I may not approve of your choice of partner but I'm glad he makes you happy. After all the shit you've been through, you deserve someone who loves you."

"Thanks Sam. Although it would be nice to hear him say it at least once."

"Say what?"

Sam jumped at the sudden appearance of Crowley but Dean didn't even flinch, he just craned his head back and stared up at him. Crowley was standing directly behind his chair and rested his hands on Dean's shoulders.

"Just talking about you." Dean smirked.

Crowley leaned down so their faces were closer and glared playfully. "What about me?"

"Ah, see now, that would be telling."

"I could make you tell me." Crowley threatened and Dean shivered at the thought of exactly what that would entail.

"You could try."

"You'd like that wouldn't you?"

"You bet I would. Speaking of making me talk, did you deal with Meg?"

"For the moment. Didn't start any of the fun stuff though."

Dean knew exactly what Crowley meant by the fun stuff but it didn't bother him, Meg would only be getting what she deserved.

"Why not? The fun stuff is your favorite."

"True. But I thought you might like to join me."


"Of course. We'd make a good team and I'd love to see what Alistair taught you."

Dean hesitated as he thought about it. Did he really want to cross that line? Before he could answer, Crowley leaned down further and captured his lips in a tender kiss before pulling away.

"You don't need to decide yet. Give it some thought." The demon muttered against his ear, causing him to shiver pleasantly. "It's completely up to you."

Crowley pulled away and headed upstairs with Dean staring at him as he went, completely forgetting about Sam frowning at him from across the table.


"Hmmm?" Dean hummed, snapping back to reality.

"Were you two just flirting over torturing someone?"

"Well to be fair, we were talking about Meg." Dean shrugged, still thinking about Crowley. "Anyway. You keep doing…. whatever you were doing before I interrupted." He leaned across the table and opened up the laptop before spinning it around to face Sam who was looking at him suspiciously. "And I'm just gonna go upstairs and do some… stuff."

"You're gonna go and have sex with Crowley aren't you?" Sam muttered, shaking his head and pulling the laptop closer towards him.

"No! Ok, yes. So if you want to go upstairs for any reason… well it would probably be best if you just didn't go upstairs." Dean answered quickly before standing up and heading over to the stairs.

About halfway across the room he stopped trying to appear calm and bolted up to bedroom, leaving Sam to pull a face and hope he wouldn't be able to hear them. "One o'clock in the fucking afternoon. Horney bastards." he muttered, hitting the keys of the keyboard harder than strictly necessary.


When Dean found Crowley the demon was rifling through their cupboard with his back to the door.

"What are you looking for?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Crowley continued to search through his clothes and for a moment Dean thought he was being ignored but then with a huff Crowley slammed the closet door closed.

"Have you seen my suit?"

"Which one?"

"The black one."

"All your suits are black."

Crowley rolled his eyes and moved to the chest of drawers to begin search through his ties. Dean snorted and moved across the room with the sort of stealth it had taken years to develop and with a triumphant grin he wrapped his arms around Crowley's neck and pressed his body against the demon's back. Crowley straightened and abandoned his hunt, turning his attention to Dean.

"What are you doing?"

Dean didn't answer and instead slowly begun to unknot Crowley's tie, moving with sure, precise movements. He let the tie slip to the floor and took advantage of the newly revealed skin. Crowley groaned low in the back of his throat when sharp teeth began to bite and nibble at the tender skin of his neck only to be soothed by gentle kisses.

The biting quickly turned to sucking and Dean felt a surge of arousal at the fact Crowley was allowing himself to be marked. When he had finished paying attention to let particular patch of skin he put his hands to use by unbuttoning Crowley's shirt, nibbling and sucking on every area of skin he could get his mouth on.

The shirt soon followed the tie to the floor and he wrapped his arms around Crowley's waist, hands roaming freely and playing with dark chest hair. Crowley was still moaning and Dean couldn't believe how good it felt to be the one staking his claim for once. As he continued to feast on Crowley's neck and collarbone, the heat was slowing building between their bodies and arousal flooded his mind. It was that heady mix of lust and desire that caused the words in his head to come tumbling out of his mouth without thought.

"I want to fuck you." He murmured against the demon's ear, the thought alone making his shiver.

Crowley froze, his entire body tensing up and it bought Dean out of his lust induced haze rather harshly. Before he could process what was happening, Crowley was removing his hands and the wonderful body heat was taken away to be replaced by a startled look demon.

"You want to fuck me?" Crowley repeated.

"I probably could have used more tact when I said that but yes."

Crowley nodded slowly and his body began to unwind after the initial shock of the question had worn off. "What's bought this on? I thought you were happy with our sex life."

"I am! It's not about that." Dean assured him, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Meg, Bobby, Sam, even dad, they say I'm yours. And I am yours! But… you're mine too and I want you to belong to me the same way I belong to you. If that makes any sense?"

Crowley smiled one of those rare, real smiles that Dean loved and reached forward to undo Dean's belt. "Well you can't fuck me with your pants on."

Dean's jeans fell to the floor next to Crowley's shirt and tie. Kicking them away, he started on Crowley's pants. As soon as he undid the buttons he was pulled into a kiss, mouths crashing together and teeth bumping but this time Crowley allowed Dean to dominate the kiss.

When the last of Crowley's clothes pooled on the ground, Dean broke the kiss and maneuvered him over to the bed. He pushed him down onto the mattress and took a moment to admire the view. Crowley was spread out and Dean thanked what ever had made Crowley chose that body as his meat suit. While he stared he quickly removed the rest of his clothes, sighing happily when his straining cock was bought out into the cool air and his boxers thrown off to the side somewhere.

Thankfully Crowley was just as hard as he was otherwise he would be having serious doubts about being able to keep from blowing his load before anything started. The dominant side of him that had been hibernating for so long reared its head at the sight of Crowley spread out and waiting. He was in control. Climbing onto the bed he pushed Crowley's legs apart with his knee so he could settle in between them.

"Pass me the lube?" he muttered as he ran his hands up and down the strong calves either side of him.

Crowley reached under his pillow and pulled out a bottle of lube, causing Dean to cock his head in confusion.

"Why is there lube under your pillow?"

"Figured you'd follow me up. Might as well be prepared, although I did assume of positions would be reversed." Crowley explained, handing him the bottle.

Dean chuckled and took the bottle, scratching his nails across Crowley's muscled thighs.

Crowley shivered at the touch but it wasn't enough to smother the panic rising inside him. Giving up control was against every fiber of who he was. There was a reason he always topped, bottoming required trusting your partner and trusting was still a foreign feeling for him.

"I think someone is horny." Dean teased as his face hovered over the straining, dripping cock.

He loved Crowley's cock he really did and being so close to the dusty pink mushroom head was making his mouth water. The hand still resting on his lover's thigh alerted him to Crowley tensing up again.

"You need to relax." He muttered, trailing his fingers across the demon's stomach and watching the muscles jump and shift under his touch.

His fingers followed the hair that took him to the base of Crowley's cock and he ran his fingers through the dark hair. Crowley gasped and arched against Dean's fingers.

"I'm trying." He grunted, irritated when Dean's hand stayed away from his cock.

"I know something that will help you relax." Dean promised, more to himself than anything else.

He leaned down and licked a strip from the root to tip, swirling his tongue around the tip and dipping it into the slit. Crowley's hips bucked Dean took the not so subtle hint. Crowley groaned low in the back of his throat when Dean's impossibly hot mouth enveloped his cock and suckled lightly on the head.

"Fucking hell!"

Dean chuckled and the vibrations travelled through Crowley's cock, making his pant. Dean was doing his best not to hump the mattress, the noises his lover was making driving him insane with want. Taking a deep breath he swallowed Crowley until the head touched the back of his throat and was rewarded by a hand gripping tightly in his hair. He looked up at Crowley who was silently asking permission and he answered with a nod.

The hand tightened and Crowley began to thrust his length in and out of Dean's mouth, fucking his face roughly. Dean was doing his best not to gag while his free hand popped the cap of the lube open. Crowley was too busy fucking his throat to notice the slick finger rubbing around his entrance. However he did notice when that finger was pushed inside him and begun sliding in and out.

He stilled his movements and focused on the invading finger, it wasn't as invasive as he'd thought it was going to be. He heard Dean start to choke and he realised he still had Dean pushed down on his cock with his nose pressed firmly against his pubic hair. Dean's throat was clenching and twitching around him as he fought for air and it felt fantastic, his whole body jerking as he gag reflex acted up.

The finger was still moving inside him and Dean wasn't struggling so he took that as a sign Dean was still alright so he held the position for a moment longer before pulling Dean's head up and allowing him to breathe. Dean gasped for air, spluttering as his gag reflex calmed down and the need to throw up faded.

He was slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen but he continued stretching Crowley and added another finger to join the first. He progressed quickly from there, a third quickly joining the second and then a forth as he battered Crowley's prostate while the demon let lose a string of what Dean assumed to be profanities. He wasn't too sure what language Crowley was speaking.

He pulled his fingers out and marveled at the sight of Crowley's hole stretched, quivering hole, the possessive part of himself rising up and preening at the sight. Crowley was his, only he got to see this. He was the only person in six hundred years Crowley had given this to.

Without wasting anymore time he coated his length in lube and settling on his knees he lifted Crowley's legs over his shoulders and guided his cock into the waiting hole. Crowley grunted at the burning stretch as Dean pushed in completely. He leaned over Crowley with his hands on either side of the demon and begun to thrust.

He wasn't confident in his ability to last ay length of time, it had been over a years since he'd topped and Crowley was amazingly tight. Crowley couldn't believe how good it felt to have Dean battering against his prostate or how unbelievably full he felt. Their bodies pressed together and soon they were just two sweaty bodies, thrusting and grunting against each other. Crowley wrapped his arms around Dean's neck and grabbed the hair at the base of his neck, tugging roughly with each thrust.

"You're mine." Dean grunted as his thrusts became more and more erratic.

"I'm yours." Crowley panted breathlessly, knowing it was what Dean needed to hear. And it was true; he did belong to Dean. He was dreading the day Dean figured out that he could never deny him anything although not without a good deal of grumbling first.

Dean could feel his orgasm building in the pit of his stomach and the tightening of his balls. Reaching between them he wrapped hand around Crowley's neglected length and started jerking him off to the rhythm of his thrusts.

"Come on Crowley. Need you to cum."

Crowley didn't need Dean's encouragement, he was ready to blow and with a well placed thrust to his prostate he was coming. His orgasm erupted through his body and cum landed in thick ribbons across his stomach. Dean followed him with a deep grunt as he emptied himself inside Crowley's body, filing him to the brim with cum.

Rolling off Crowley, Dean hit the mattress with a thump before turning and cuddling into Crowley's side. They lay in silence while they both caught their breaths and their heart rates returned to normal. Dean rested a hand on Crowley's chest and traced patterns idly, enjoying a moment where his mind was completely empty. Unfortunately the moment didn't last long and Crowley bought him back to reality.

"So where has you complete asshole of a father gotten to?"

"Out at some bar getting utterly shitfaced. I'll warn you now, he's a mean drunk."

"So is Bobby but I handle him perfectly fine." Crowley pointed out, playing with Dean's hair.

"No, Bobby is a grumpy drunk. Dad will start throwing punches." Dean sighed happily at the feeling of Crowley massaging his scalp.

Those wonderful fingers stalled for a fraction of a second before continuing as through nothing had happened. "Has he ever hit you?" Crowley asked eventually.

"A few times. More than a few times. At least once a month I'd have black eye or a split lip." Dean admitted softly. Not even Sam knew about that, he'd been too wrong at the time to remember and he'd never told him.

"How old were you?"

"Ten. The last time anyway."

"What happened?" It was nearly unrecognizable but Dean could still hear the concern hovering in Crowley's voice.

"Don't really know. I remember dad coming back from the bar, I think Sam had done something wrong and dad was pissed. I told Sam to go to his room and then I told dad if he ever touched Sam I'd call Bobby and tell him. I'd take Sam away. I woke up in hospital the next day with two broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder and a fractured collarbone." Dean answered absently. He hadn't thought about it for a long time and it was unpleasant dragging up those memories. "After that he never touched me again and he stopped coming back to the motel drunk."

"When didn't you ever tell Bobby? Or anyone?"

"I was a kid. Dad had taught me not to trust anyone but family and I knew if I told Bobby he'd take us away. I'd already lost my mum, I couldn't lose my dad too." He said with a shrug. "Did you ever hit your son?"

"Gavin? Once." Crowley muttered, taking Dean's hand in his and twirling the ring around Dean's finger thoughtfully. "I hated him in general, don't know why. There was just something about him that I didn't like but I mostly ignored him. One day he came over for dinner with his wife and she had a broken arm. She said one of the horses had done accidently but I knew it was Gavin. It was obvious she was terrified of him and Gavin had always been quick to anger, he took after me in that respect. I beat the shit out of him. I was a bad person Dean, in fact I could be downright cruel but out of the all the shitty things I'd done in my life, I never hit my wife. No matter how angry I got."

Dean didn't say anything, there was nothing to say and instead he buried his face against Crowley's neck and closed his eyes. He was taking full advantage of what would probably be one of the last moments of peace they would have for awhile.


The street was empty when John stumbled out of the bar, tripping over his own feet and swaying slightly when he stopped to regain his balance. He wasn't sure how long ago the sun had set but the streetlights were on and the sky was pitch black, clouds covering the stars from view. Sighing heavily when his head started to swim he leaned against the nearest streetlight and closed his eyes until the spinning stopped.

"I didn't bring you back to get pissed at the local dive bar."

John started upright to face a tall black man in a well-tailored suit standing in front of him. "You were right. About everything." He murmured. "They're not the son's I raised, they've forgotten everything I taught them."

"Not forgotten. They've been corrupted. The demon blood has changed Sam, the need for it will never go away and it clouds his judgment and Dean left his humanity in hell, becoming the whore to a demon."

John flinched at the words but couldn't deny their truth. He hadn't believed the man who called himself an angel at first but seeing Dean and hearing what Sam had done since his death had proven his words. Something had happened to his boys, he'd always known Sam could go either way but Dean; Dean had always been the good one, the moral one. Now he spread his legs for demonic scum and Sam was an affront against humanity. They had to be stopped before they caused any more damage to the world then they already had.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, slurring his words slightly even though the cool night air had sobered him up significantly.

"Nothing. Not yet. I need them to get me something first."

John nodded, dreading having to go back to Dean and Sam. "Who are you really?"

"The Archangel Raphael, John. You're doing God's work."


Sam was still sitting at the laptop when Dean and Crowley came down the stairs and entered the lounge room.

"Do we have anything?" Dean asked, pulling out a chair and sitting next to Sam.

Sam glared at him and snapped the laptop shut before crossing his arms. "Are we just going to pretend I didn't hear what I heard?" he asked.

"Well if you prefer we can talk about how pretty your brother sounds choking on my cock?"

"Excuse me! I was only choking because you wouldn't let me fucking breathe!"

"Enough! Fucking hell!" Sam yelled, shaking his head wide eyed at the both of them.

Crowley smirked and leaned against the back of the couch, winking at Dean.

Dean suppressed a smile and turned his attention back to Sam. "Back to my original question. Do you have anything?"

"Well I couldn't find anything but then I remembered what Bobby said when you came back from hell."

"Before or after he tried to stab me?"

"He said the only thing capable of pulling you out of the pit was an angel." Sam continued, completely ignoring Dean.

Dean blinked and leaned back in his chair. Why didn't they think of that before? It had taken serious juice to pull Sam from the cage and angels were the most powerful creatures they knew. "Is it possible?" he asked Crowley.

"It's possible but it would take an enormous amount of power, not just any angel could have done it." Crowley conceded with a shrug.

"What about an Arch?"

"An Archangel would definitely have the juice." Crowley confirmed and Dean noticed the talk of angels was making him increasingly nervous and he couldn't blame him. Crowley was powerful but even he couldn't take on an angel in a fair fight.

"Yeah there's just one problem. Every Archangel that had anything to do with the fuck-up that was the Apocalypse is dead." Sam reminded them.

"Not all of them. Last time I heard Raphael was still up and kicking."

"That's just fantastic. Just what we need, a crazy ninja turtle who wants your head on pike!" Sam sighed unhappily. "Can we call Castiel? He might know something."

"I doubt it. Cas hasn't spoken to me in nearly two years. He's pissed at me for the whole Crowley thing." Dean admitted, rubbing the back of his neck a little bit embarrassed.

"Well than what the fuck are we supposed to do?"

"We catch ourselves an Archangel. I know exactly where to put him." Crowley spoke up. He was smirking in a way that told Dean he wasn't going to like the next thing Crowley said. "I'm going to need a few things though."

Chapter Text

"The venom of a Manticore and the blood of a virgin? Dude your boyfriend is fucking creepy." Sam muttered, throwing himself onto the creaky bed of their motel room.

Dean rolled his eyes and settled across from Sam on his own bed. "Virgin blood will be easy. I don't even know what the fuck a Manticore is."

Sam frowned and cocked his head, narrowing his eyes at Dean. "Did you really just use the words; getting the virgin blood will be easy?"

Dean shrugged and leaned against the headboard of the bed. He reached over and picked up the cherry pie he'd bought at the first gas station they came across. He hadn't had a pie in ages; in fact being back on the road was making his junk food addiction kick start again. "So what is a Manticore?" he asked around a mouthful of pie.

Sam looked like he was going to mention Crowley again but instead sighed heavily and flicked the lid of his laptop open. He scrolled through a page Dean couldn't see and rubbed his eyes.

"A Manticore is a monster with the body of a lion, the face of man and shoots poisonous spikes from its tail." Sam read out from the website. "When we get back remind me to punch your boyfriend in the face."

Even Dean had to agree that the sound of what they were hunting was terrifying. But according to Crowley their venom was the only thing outside of a heavenly weapon that could actually hurt the feathery bastards.

"You like saying that don't you? My boyfriend?"

"I'm going with this theory that if I say it out loud it will stop sounding ridiculous."

"How's that working out for you?" Dean asked around a mouthful of pie, nearly choking in the process.

"Fabulously. I can now say it without flinching."

"Baby steps, baby steps. So where are we supposed to find ourselves a Manticore?"

"That's exactly what I was wondering. They haven't been around for a couple of millennia and never outside of Persia. Crowley was less than helpful by the way but Bobby managed to pull through." Sam said, not being able to hold back the dig at Crowley.

"And are you going to tell me what Bobby said or are you gonna make me guess?"

"There's been some bodies found at Gila National Forest that slightly resemble what a Manticore would do."

"Gila National Forest? That's in New Mexico!"

"That's the least of our problems. Gila National Forest covers an area of over five hundred and fifty thousand acres and our Manticore is in there somewhere."

"Sam? Why does the universe hate us?"

"Because we're bad people."

Dean watched his brother as Sam continued to scroll through the website and he couldn't deny the fact that this felt right. Being with Sam in a crappy motel room and a monster to fight. It all had an odd sense of comfort and it scared him.

Giving up hunting had been an easy decision a year ago. Sam had been gone and he had done the only thing he could to hold onto the most important person in his life, the one thing he had left. But now Sam was back and Dean was finding it hard to ignore the fact that whether he wanted it or not; deep in his soul he was a hunter. It was in his blood, it was imbedded into his consciousness and he didn't know what to do.


Sam's voice pulled him out of his thoughts and with a small shake of his head he turned his attention to his brother.

"Sorry what?"

"I said; do you think dad has been acting weird?" Sam repeated after sending Dean a strange look.

"You'll have to be more specific Sam. Dad's never exactly been a vision of normality." Dean quipped, resolving to push aside his troubling thoughts and deal with them another day.

Sam sighed and closed the laptop, spinning around so he sitting on the edge of bed facing Dean. "Alright. Dad storms out after you have a massive argument and pretty much disowning you only to come back the next day and apologies? You're telling me that doesn't send off alarm bells? I have never once heard dad admit he was wrong…..ever."

Dean rubbed his face tiredly. "Look, I don't trust dad as far as I can throw him but I think this is one of those times where we just have to work with what we've got."

"So you don't think he's up to anything?"

"Oh God no! I think dad is neck deep in whatever the fuck is going on. I also think he's going to fuck us over the first chance he gets. So we watch him, keep him close and make sure he doesn't cause any damage."

"Watch him? Dean, dad is thousand miles away." Sam pointed out with a frown.

John had been sent to get the third ingredient to Crowley's little angel weapon; a knife forged with dragon fire. Dean had to admit, John had gotten dawn the short straw. That kind of blade would be harder than hell to find.

"What, did you think I would just let dad wander off by himself with no supervision in sight? Ye' of little faith Sammy. One of the perks of being the King Of Hell's boyfriend, I have my own private army of demons at my disposal. I've got two of them following dad as we speak."

Sam looked momentarily stunned at Dean's words and opened his mouth a few times before he could make words come out.

"So are these demons loyal to Crowley?" Sam asked eventually.

Dean shrugged a grabbed another slice of pie. "Demons don't really go for the whole loyalty thing, however they are shit scared of Crowley so it amounts to the same thing really."

"You know Dean, I kinda like this version of you." Sam admitted. "You're a lot nicer to be around when guilt isn't eating at you."

"Aww... and you're a lot less whiney then you used to be." Dean answered with a smirk although Sam had a point. Life was a lot easier when he wasn't swimming in guilt and he wasn't drowning himself in alcohol.

Sam laughed and threw a pillow at him, hitting him in the face. Dean snorted and tried not to think about where that particular pillow had been.

"Come on moose. We have a Manticore to kill. How do we kill one again?"

"The only place a Manticore is vulnerable is the inside of its mouth."

"Perfect... just perfect."

"And don't call me moose!"

Dean laughed harder and threw the pillow back at Sam. There was a moment of silence while Sam chewed on his thumbnail, obviously trying to gather the courage to say something.

"How old is Crowley?" he finally spat out, looking decidedly uncomfortable.

Dean shrugged and kicked the empty pie packet onto the floor. He was trying not to laugh at Sam's question.

"Not sure, I don't think Crowley even knows. Around six hundred I think."

"No I mean the meat suit he's in."

"Oh...Um, late forties I think?" Dean guessed, not sure of the answer.

Sam's eyes widened and he chocked down a laugh while Dean could actually feel irritation "What?"

"Dude, you're fucking someone older than dad." Sam gasped, laughter pouring out.


When Sam had mentioned they were going to Gila National Forest he'd thought the hardest part would be finding and killing the Manticore, completely forgetting that Gila National Forest was over a thousand and six hundred miles from where they were.

That added up to at least two days on the road, three if they couldn't push themselves. It hadn't even occurred to Dean that he would be forced to spend all day in the car with Sam. By the time they had packed their duffle bags and were on route; the road stretching out forever in front of them, singing along to AC/DC, Dean was enjoying the time alone with his brother and certain that the road the New Mexico would be a peaceful one. He'd forgotten just what a whiny passenger Sam was.

100 miles:

Dean settled into old habits quicker than he'd anticipated, sliding into the drivers seat with a hamburger, a coke and ready for a long drive. Sam was sat next to him, leaning on against the window and staring out at the scenery, ACDC was thumping through the radio and Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel along with the beat. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Sam fidgeting, shifting around in his seat and frowning uncomfortably. Dean narrowed his eyes at his squirming little brother and wondered what his problem was.

"Someone put itching powder in you knickers again Sammy?" Dean teased, smirking at the memory.

Sam rolled his eyes and his jaw clenched tight, irritation practically radiating off him. "No douche bag. I need to pee."

"Again? We just stopped!" Dean growled. If things continued this way, they would never make it to New Mexico.

"I can't help it! I don't have any control over when I have to pee." Sam reminded him with a shrug, shifting in his seat once more.

"Well maybe if you didn't buy a Grande latte at every gas station we stop at, you wouldn't need to piss every five minutes."

"Well maybe if someone didn't keep me up all night wanking over the phone with his hell spawn lover, I wouldn't need gallons of coffee to keep me awake." Sam shot back with a pointed look, enjoying the wide-eyed shock that crossed Dean's face.

"You were listening?"

"Listening? You were a fucking meter away! It was like being a supporting actor in a bad porno."

"I thought you were asleep!"

"Like that makes it any fucking better!"

500 miles:

"Hey Dean?"

"I swear to god Sam, if you need to pee again I'm going to have a fucking breakdown." Dean grunted, not taking his eyes off the road.

"Fuck you douche bag. What I was going to ask; is when did Crowley give you that ring?"

Dean looked down at the ring in question, watching the say the sunlight bounced off the shiny surface.

"A few months after...well, you know." he answered awkwardly after a moment.

"So what happens when you die?"

Dean was a little taken back by Sam's questions but he was glad Sam was actually taking an interest. It showed that he supported him at least a little.

"What do you mean?"

"Well eventually you're going to die. Are you going to give up heaven for him?"

"What's so great about heaven Sam? I can think of quite a few angels who would love nothing more than to have our eternal souls screaming in agony." Dean pointed out.

Hell might be full of demons but while Crowley was in charge, he had nothing to worry about. Whereas in Heaven there would be nothing between him and hundreds of pissed off angles with nothing better to do than make him suffer for the rest of forever.

"I bet no one ever saw that coming. You going to hell while I go to heaven." Sam chuckled darkly.

Dean shrugged and his lips quirked up in a half smile. "I always knew."

"Oh yeah? Are you the physic now?" Sam teased.

"No. I'm your big brother. No one will ever know you like I do."

700 miles:

"So Dean, who tops and who bottoms?"

Kill me now…

1000 miles:

"I want to drive!"

Dean gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned white. He'd known it would only be a matter of time before Sam started pestering him to drive and that first quietly asked question was the beginning of what Dean knew would be a very irritating afternoon. "No."

"Why not Dean? It's not fair. I never get to drive."

"Because when you drive you turn into a fucking manic."

"I do not. You're just a control freak."

"Oh yeah? What about that time in Texas?"

"I knew you'd bring that up. You always do."

"For good reason."

"You're over reacting. It wasn't that bad." Sam grumbled, locking his jaw into what Dean recognized as his brother getting ready for battle.

"I'm sure the mother of the child you almost ran over would disagree." Dean pointed out.

"He shouldn't have been in the middle of the road!"

"He was crossing the street with him mum at a pedestrian crossing."

"Let me drive and I'll disappear for an hour tonight so you can be alone with Crowley."

1020 miles:

Dean was holding onto his seat with every ounce of strength he had as they sped down the highway at a speed way over the speed limit, each bump in the road and turn making him flinch. Sam had always been a bit of an erratic driver, slamming his foot on the accelerator like his feet were made of lead.

Dean's stomach twisted nervously as another car blasted its horn at them as it passed and Dean was actually beginning to think they were going to end up wrapped around a tree. Thankfully the sudden vibrating of his phone in his pocket took his attention away from his inevitable fiery death.

'How's the brotherly bonding going?'

'I think I may actually be about to die.'

'Did Sam find the picture I took of you?'

'What picture?'

Dean glared at his phone, mind churning with all the possibilities of Crowley's words. He was waiting for an answer for an uncomfortably long time.

'What picture? There's no picture.'


'Yes darling?'

'What picture?'

'What are you talking about Dean? You really should be careful; I think you're becoming delusional. Imagining all sorts of things.'

'If you have a picture of me somewhere that I'm not going to like, I'll make you pay.'

'You have to find it first, princess.'

'No first I have to survive Sam's driving. Fuck, the way he takes corners you'd think he was training to be a stunt driver.'

'He must get it from you.'

'Excuse me? I am an excellent driver!'

'I'm not saying otherwise. I'm saying you drive like you're in the middle of chase scene from an action movie.'

The car swerved dangerously and Dean jerked his attention back to Sam who was watching him closely.

"Eyes on the fucking road Sam!" Dean yelped as they swerved once more so Sam could avoid a squirrel that had run across the highway.

1500 miles:

Eventually Dean simply couldn't take it anymore and demanded Sam pull over. He was so tired his eyes were burning and judging by the glazed look in his brother's eyes, Sam wasn't doing any better. Thankfully a motel came into view and Sam pulled over happily.

They pulled up in front of the main office and Sam went in to book them a room while Dean remained in the car. He pulled out his phone and started at it curiously wondering if he should call Crowley or not and let him know they'd stopped for the night. Sam knocked on the passenger door and stuck his head through the open window.

"You coming?"

"Yeah, um…can you take my bag in? I'm gonna call Crowley." Dean muttered, making up his mind. He wanted to know what John had been up to.

Sam nodded passed him the car keys before grabbing the bags from the back of the car with a word. Dean was rather impressed with how Sam was handling everything lately. Apparently being in hell had knocked some of the bitchy out of him. After another moment sitting in the car, he opened the door and stepped out into the cool night air. He locked the car and walked over to the end of the car park, standing under a streetlight. His breathing fogged in front of him and with a sigh he called Crowley.

The demon answered almost immediately.

"What's shakin bacon?"

"I need you."

The only answer that came was a dial tone and Dean stared dumbly at the phone, shocked that Crowley had just hung up on him and with an unbelieving snort he tucked his phone back into his jeans pocket. He flinched heavily when a pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist and a warm body pressed into his back.

"I can't stay long." Crowley muttered quietly, lips brushing against his neck.

Dean nodded in understanding and placed his arms over Crowley's, twisting their fingers together.

"It will all be over soon." Crowley promised, knowing what Dean needed to hear.

"I'm not so sure. I thought it was over a year ago, and yet here I am. I don't think it will ever really be over."

Crowley didn't know how to answer that but that was all right, Dean didn't want him to. He just wanted him to listen while he had a moment of self-pity, which thankfully was something Crowley understood.

"So what has John been up to?" Dean asked eventually, breaking the silence as he spun around in Crowley's arms.

"Not much. Doing what I sent to do. He'll have the knife in a few days."

"Has he been doing anything he shouldn't be?"

"He's actually being remarkably well behaved, hasn't even visited any bars. It makes me uneasy."

"You think he's up to something?" Dean asked, lifting a hand to cup Crowley's face and scratching gently at the short beard.

"Yes. I think he's going to fuck us over and I want to know; when he does, are you willing to do what needs to be done?"

"I have very little sentimentality left towards John." Dean smiled grimly and looked down at Crowley's tie, using a free hand to play with the soft fabric. "I bought you this one." He muttered absently. He had bought it as a joke really, never really expecting the demon to wear the bright blue tie.

Dean blinked, heart skipping a beat at Crowley's smirk before he leaned down and captured Crowley's lips with his own. Crowley's hand crept around the back of his neck and gripped his hair while Dean moved his hand down to Crowley's ass, squeezing possessively.

Crowley grunted against his mouth and Dean grinded their lower bodies together in answer. Crowley pulled their lips apart and placed small biting kisses down Dean's jaw and up to his ear, biting his earlobe. Dean groaned and arched his head pack to give Crowley more access to his neck.

The shorter man was sucking a hickey onto his neck, causing shivers to wrack Dean's body when a yawn broke its way out of him. There was a horrifying moment of utter stillness as they both froze. Embarrassment flooding Dean's cheeks with red as he realised what he'd done.

Crowley pulled away from his neck slowly and looked at him with one raised eyebrow. "Am I boring you darling?"

"I am so sorry." Dean muttered horrified that he'd yawned in the middle of make out session. "I'm just so tired." He tired to explain.

Crowley was still watching him but a smirk had spread across his face and could see he was trying not to laugh. "Don't worry about it darling. I'm not offended."

"I'm going to go to bed. I have to fight a Manticore tomorrow." Dean said with fake enthusiasm.

He kissed Crowley gently once more before pulling away and backing up back towards the motel.

"Sweet dreams sweetheart!" Crowley called after him, smirking broadly.

"I really like you in that tie!" Dean called back in answer, watching Crowley disappear with a smile.


"I still think we should check out the bodies first." Dean grumbled as they pulled up outside the Gila National Forest head office.

Over the past five years twelve people had been found dead somewhere in the forest. The police had put it down to accidents, tourists wandering off the track, getting lost or killed by one of the numerous dangerous wildlife found in the area. Dean was getting a little jumpy; he hadn't been in a forest since the Wendigo incident and he didn't like being blocked in by trees.

Too many variables in such an open area and it made him uncomfortable. Dean sighed and followed Sam into the head office, shoving his hands in his pockets and shifting uncomfortably in his fed suit. It had been a long time since he'd been forced to wear a suit and it felt like the tie was trying to strangle him, he didn't know how Crowley wore suits everyday; they drove Dean mad.

"Can I help you boys with anything?"

Dean turned his attention to the owner of the voice, who judging by his uniform was the head ranger. Dean was taken back by how startling handsome he was. Blonde complimented perfectly by bluest eyes Dean had ever seen. He was young, younger than Sam by the looks of it and he looked like he'd just walked off the cover of a magazine. Instant distrust swam through Dean, knocking him off balance. This man was absolutely perfect, too perfect and it sent warning bells off in his head. Something wasn't right.

"Agent Singer and agent Mcloud, we would like to discuss that ridiculously high mortality rate this place has." Dean spoke up, cutting off Sam before he could speak.

Ranger good looking smiled and Dean felt his heart skip a beat against his will, which only made him dislike the man more.

"Yes, all those poor people. Of course I'll do anything I can to help." He guided them into his office at the far end of the building. "I'm Ranger Manson by the way and I'll be happy to answer any questions have."

Ranger Manson sat behind a large wooden desk and gestured for them to sit across from him. Sam and ranger Manson exchanged pleasantries while Dean scanned the room. It looked normal enough but there was something off about the place, something he wasn't seeing.

"Did you know any of the victims?" Sam asked, drawing Dean's attention back.

"Not really, no one ever comes to the office."

"I thought if you wanted to camp here you had to check in through the front desk?" Dean pointed out, smiling pleasantly.

"That used to be true but a few years back we started using online booking so people don't have to come all the way out here to check in. It can be a bit of a inconvenience if you're staying on the other side of the forest." Ranger Manson chuckled, flashing another one of those stunning smile.

"So what do you think killed those people?" Sam asked.

"Unfortunately there are plenty of things out here that can kill you if your not careful. People come here and they think that watching nature shows makes them qualified to mess with things they don't understand."

Dean got the distinct feeling that was threat.

"How long have you worked here?"

"Ten years."

"Wow. You barely look twenty-five." Dean pushed; every instinct in his body telling him Ranger Manson was full of crap.

Ranger Manson smirked and turned his gaze to Dean. "I'm older than I look."

Those impossibly blue eyes pinning Dean down and made his head spin. He fought the urge to smile back stupidly and giggle like a school girl. Thankfully the moment passed and Dean was certain Ranger Manson was their Manticore.

Chapter Text

"I'm telling you Sam, he's our guy." Dean muttered once more as he unlocked the door to their motel room.

They'd been having the same argument since they'd finished their interview of Ranger Manson. Even when picking up the victims medical records at the local Sheriff's office Dean hadn't let it drop.

"Yeah one problem Dean, our 'guy' is supposed a lion with the head of man and a giant stinger sticking out of its ass. Now I may have missed it, but Ranger Manson looked pretty human to me." Sam pointed out with a sigh.

Dean huffed and sat down in one of the rickety chairs next to what passed for a dining room table. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and shrugged.

"Well maybe it can change its form? It wouldn't be the first monster we've come across that can. Maybe that's how it's survived this long?"

"And maybe it vomits glitter and sings show tunes? Who knows, the lore is hazy at best. What I do know is that we can't going killing a man simply because you get bad vibes from him!"

"Oh come on Sam! You can't tell me you didn't see it?" Dean pushed. "That man is perfect, like ridiculously perfect, like so perfect he shouldn't exist. Nobody is that good looking! He looks like he just walked out of a fucking magazine!"

Sam looked at him like he'd gone mad for a second before understanding sparked in his eyes and his lips curved into a soft smile.

"I get it. This is because you were attracted to him and it's freaking you out. Just because you're with Crowley, it's not a bad thing if you're attracted to other people." Sam promised him soothingly, voice dripping with his best comforting tone.

Dean stared at him blankly for a few seconds, blinking slowly before irritation began radiating off him in waves. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Dean it's al…"

"Fuck you Sam! I know how to keep the job separate from my private life! And I am telling you, Ranger Manson isn't human."

Sam sighed heavily and Dean noticed happily he looked more than a little chastised. Sam sat down at the end of the bed, lifting his hands in surrender. "Alright. What's your theory?"

Dean stood up and picked the medical files off the kitchen counter before handing them to Sam.

"I was reading them in the car. There are no defensive marks on their bodies, no sign any of them fought back. One woman was found barely a hundred feet from a campsite of ten families and no one heard her scream. And where they were staying there are no signs of a struggle."

"What are you saying Dean?" Sam asked as he flipped through the five medical files, grimacing at the horrific pictures that greeted him.

"I'm saying he doesn't take them by force. His victims go with him willingly."

"But he uses his venom to paralyze them. Why do that if he can control them?" Sam wanted to know, reading the toxicology reports on the victims.

"He reverts back to his natural form to kill them. Once they see what he really is, their adrenaline shoots through the roof; survival instincts kick in and overpowers whatever spell he has them under."

"It makes sense Dean, it does. But non of this." Sam waved the medical flies in the air. "Points to Ranger Manson."

"You didn't feel what I felt in that room Sam. When he looked at me, it was overwhelming. It wasn't just everyday attraction, it was complete and utter devotion." Dean admitted, the memory of it making him shiver.

He hadn't realised at the time just how strong the feeling had been, it was only afterward when his head had cleared that he could think back and shiver in horror at how little control he'd really had.

Dean could see Sam hesitating, shifting as he tried to come up with a decision but Dean wasn't worried, he knew he'd won.

"Alright. I trust your instincts but we still need more proof. We need to be sure beyond a shadow of doubt because if we kill Ranger Manson and he's not the Manticore, we've blown it. The real Manticore will go into hiding for another two hundred years and then we're fucked."

Dean wanted to argue and suggest they just stab Range Manson in the throat but he knew Sam was right. They didn't even know how to kill a Manticore and it never hurt to a hundred percent sure you were stabbing the thing you were supposed to.

"Fine but I'll go. You stay here and give Bobby a call." Dean muttered, pulling his jacket back on with a sigh.

"Why do I have to stay here? Not the smartest idea to be alone with Mr Mcdate rape." Sam pointed out.

Dean shrugged and shoved his car keys in his pocket. "Someone has to figure how to kill it other wise all this is useless. And besides, it's seven o'clock. His office will be empty."

Sam sighed but knew it was useless to argue, besides Dean had a point, they didn't have a lot of time to wrap this up. They needed to get this done and it would be quicker if they split up.

"Fine. But ring me when you get there."

"Awwww, you worried about be Sammy?" Dean teased.

"I'm worried about what Crowley would do to me if something happened to you." Sam answered with a dry smile. Crowley may be a bastard but he was a scary bastard.

Dean snorted but he wondered what Crowley would do to Sam if anything happened to him. Or what he'd do to anyone who actually hurt him. Nothing pleasant, he knew that much.


Dean arrived at the ranger office and looked out of the car window uncomfortably. The forest was especially creepy at night and it made him shiver. Shaking his head and cursing himself for acting like a scared teenage girl, Dean stepped out of the car and headed towards the building. When he reached the door he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his lock picking kit. As he picked the lock he began to wonder exactly what it was about the place that set him on edge. There was just something about the office he didn't like.

Inside was exactly like every other he'd ever been in, the entire office smelled vaguely of dirt and there was a large stuffed bear standing by the front door. Dean wondered if the bear had been killed by one of the rangers or if there was some wholesale warehouse you could buy them from he didn't know about. There was a check in desk on the left and behind it a door that led to what looked to be a staff room.

He had walked past the desk when he froze and backtracked. Turning to face the desk he frowned and swiped his finger across the top of the computer. His finger cut a clean line through a thick layer of dust. Upon further inspection he saw the entire desk was covered in dust. The penholder, the chair and the computer. Nothing had been cleaned in a very long time. The uncomfortable feeling in his stomach started again and his gut told him no one but the Manticore had been in this office for a while.

A check of the staff confirmed his suspicions. The fridge was empty, every file and draw completely bare. No wonder no one had ever raised concerns about the place; there was no one to complain, the Manticore had turned the entire national forest into its own private buffet table. That realization made the place impossibly creeper and not the first time; Dean wished he really didn't have to be there.

Deciding to get this over and done with he headed to Ranger Manson's office. He half expected to see Ranger Manson waiting for him and let out a sigh of relief when the office was empty. Heading over to the desk he stumbled over something and had to catch his balance against the desk. Swearing loudly he bent down to pick up the offending item. It was something roughly thirty centimeters in length. It was black and surprisingly flexible.

"Well I've never seen a Manticore spike before but if I had to guess I'd this is exactly what one would look like." Dean muttered to himself. Smiling smugly he flicked the tip of spike and causing it to spring back and forth. What he wasn't expecting was a small amount of thick, yellow liquid to ooze out of the tip. "It's my lucky day."


"Right. Let's get this show on the road." Crowley said as he tucked the tin in his suit pocket. "If you leave tonight, you'll be home in two days."

"What are you taking about? We still have a Manticore to deal with."

Crowley froze and turned to face him. Sam eyes widened as he sensed the atmosphere shift in the room. His gaze flicked between Dean and Crowley as he backed away and did his best to blend in the with wall.

"We have the venom, the job is done." Crowley growled out.

Dean blinked at Crowley's answer and shook his head.

"No it's not! That Manticore is killing people, innocent people and I can stop it."

"No one is innocent Dean."

"So they deserve to be torn to shreds? I can't just walk away, not while there's a Job to be done!" Dean answered, his voice rising to a shout.

"Send another hunter! This isn't your job!"

"Yes it is."

"Why? Why is it your job? Why does it always fucking have to be you?"

Crowley was shouting now too and it was making Sam feel very awkward. This was private and he shouldn't be here but he didn't want to leave and draw attention to himself, as they both seemed to have forgotten he existed.

"Someone has to!" Dean had to grit his teeth to stop from outright screaming.

Crowley paused for a moment before narrowing his eyes at Dean. "Bullshit! This your 'save the world so you don't feel guilty' shit!

"I'm a hunter! It's who I am!"

Silence echoed through the room and somewhere in his anger clouded mind Dean realized he was very close to saying something he couldn't take back, something he'd regret.

"No Dean, you used to be a hunter. You gave it up. Or have you forgotten?" Crowley had stopped shouting but anger was still dripping from every word he spoke. "You gave it up for me."

"Well maybe that was a mistake." he growled out before he could stop it.

Dean could almost see Crowley's eyes harden and the last rational part of his mind was screaming at him to take it back.

"Maybe it was." Crowley admitted quietly. "Fine. Do whatever you want, you always do anyway. You wanna get yourself killed? Be my guest. It's not like you're irreplaceable or anything."

Before Dean could answer, Crowley was gone. Dean could only stare at the place the demon had stood seconds before and try to calculate exactly how much damage his words had done. A lot judging by the icy look in Crowley's eyes. He hadn't looked at him like that since the first time they'd met.

"What did Bobby say?" he asked Sam eventually.

Sam was looking at him sadly and it took him a moment to answer. "Are you alright?"

That was most defiantly the last question Dean wanted to answer.

"How do we kill the Manticore Sam?" he asked more forcefully.

Sam sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly, knowing better than to push. "Knife coated in the blood of one its victims. Through the heart."

"Isn't it always?" Dean snorted bitterly.

He picked up his keys and pulled on his jacket roughly. "You can deal with it. I'm going out."

"Deal with it? How the fuck am I supposed to deal with it?" Sam yelled.

"Get the blood, its not hard Sam.," he growled, trying hard not to take his lingering anger out on Sam. "there's half a dozen victims in the morgue."

Dean moved towards the door, hoping to get out before he exploded and had a go at Sam.

"Do you not understand the concept of 'bleeding out?' there's no blood left."

"Just fucking figure it out Sam!" he yelled as he slammed the door behind him.

Sam started sullenly at the door before rolling his eyes and sighing heavily. "Just figure it out. How hard can it be? Not the fist time I've broken into a morgue." he muttered to himself as he pulled his own jacket on. He was about to leave when he remembered Dean had taken the car keys. "Fucking hell!"

Despite his intention to drive around until he no longer had the urge to punch the first person that looked at him funny, Dean found himself falling back into hold habits and pulled into the first bar he came across.

It wasn't as run down as it had originally appeared from the road and judging from the empty parking lot, there weren't a lot of people out that night; something dean was glad of because the last thing he wanted to do was deal with people.

Walking into the old wooden building he made a beeline for the bar and was thankful to see the pale was empty. Sliding onto a stool he gestured for a bartender. The bartender was a young woman with red hair and two years ago Dean would have been very drawn to her low cut top and low riding jeans but at that moment all he wanted was a beer.

"What can I get for you honey?"

"Beer thanks." he grunted, smiling tightly. It wasn't her fault he was in a crappy mood.

"Any particular kind?"

"A cold one."

A moment passed before there was a crisp crack and a bottle was placed in front of him. Reaching out he took a sip before putting it back down and staring at it sullenly.

"Girlfriend troubles?"

Dean shook his head softly and traced the rim of the bottleneck absently. "Something like that. How'd you know?"

The woman shrugged and wiped the table in front of him with a less than clean cloth. "Comes with the territory. Wanna talk about it?"

"My umm…my boyfriend doesn't approve of what I do for a living." Dean answered, not taking his eyes off the bottle of beer.

The bartender didn't miss a beat at his mention of a boyfriend and smiled down at him sympathetically. "What do you do for a living?"

Dean opened his mouth to answer but the words caught in his throat. It took a moment before he realised why. "I don't know." He answered truthfully.

"How can you not know?" she asked confused. She cocked her head to one side and Dean had to admit, she was beautiful.

"I thought I did. I wasn't always a mechanic, I gave up my job for my boyfriend and everything was fine. We were happy. But recently I've been having some…family issues and it's uncovered a part of me I thought I'd left behind." He explained, trying to reveal too much but still feeling better for getting it off his chest, even if it was to a stranger. "This is the first argument we've ever had and I have absolutely no idea what to do now."

"Maybe that's the problem? You're trying to force yourself to be something you're not and whether your intentions are noble or not, it's tearing you apart. People say you can change who you are, I don't believe that. Maybe you can change the outside, even the first few layers if you really try but deep down? Right in your core? You are you are."

The words hit Dean like a fist to the stomach and made him feel even worse than he had ten minutes ago. Was that really his problem? Had he just been acting for the past year and half? Acting at being normal, acting at being happy? Everything was so much harder now that Sam was back. It had been easy to put aside Dean the hunter when Sam had died but now his brother back and it was getting harder and harder to ignore that part of himself.

"So I think you need to decided Dean Winchester, are you a mechanic or a hunter?"

Those words made his stomach clench for another reason and his head whipped up to comfort the woman who somehow knew who he was. The bar was empty, the woman gone and leaving nothing behind but a bad taste in his mouth. A door to the left of the bar opened and Dean jumped off the bar stool, reaching for the gun he hadn't carried with him in over a year. The man who walked out looked just as startled to see Dean as Dean was to him.

"How did you get in? Bar's closed mate." the man said with a certain degree of aggression.

"The door was open." Dean answered slowly, "Who was the woman who was here?"

"What woman?"

"The bartender. Red hair, green eyes."

"This is my bar, I'm the only one who works here."

The man was looking at him like he was thirty seconds away from a mental breakdown and maybe he was, he certainly felt like it.

"Right. My mistake. Sorry." he muttered as he pulled out his wallet and threw some money down on the bar.

He left the bar with his stomach twisting and his head swimming. He had no idea who the woman had been, in fact he had a strong feeling it hadn't been a woman at all. A brief thought of it being the Manticore flashed through his mind but he pushed it aside, their was no lore to suggest Manticore could turn into women and even if they could, it wouldn't have let Dean leave the bar alive knowing he was a hunter.

No, this was completely different shit to the shit he was already dealing with. So with a deep sigh he pushed the chilling encounter to the back of his mind, adding it to the ever-increasing pile of 'shit to deal with later.'

The ringing of his phone made him startle violently on his way back to the car and after swearing loudly he pulled the phone from his pocket.

"What?" he muttered gruffly, feeling silly for his reaction.

"If you're not too drunk, come back to the motel." Sam's tired voice drifted through the phone and Dean felt a little guilty for snapping at him earlier.

"What makes you think I've been drinking?"

"You and dad have more in common than you like to admit."

Dean tried to tell himself Sam's words didn't sting as much as they did.


By the time he arrived at the motel room, Sam was standing in the parking lot waiting for him and sporting the most impressive bitch face Dean had seen yet.

"Did you get the blood?"

"Would I have called you otherwise?" Sam bitched, pulling a face.

"Sam, on some days I almost find your bitchiness endearing, almost. But ya know what? Today is not even close to being one of those days." Dean answered drily.

Sam rolled his eyes but didn't argue but kept his mouth shut, something Dean was thankful for.

"So. Let's try again without the attitude. Did you get the blood?" Dean repeated.

Sam pulled a knife from his back pocket and flashed the blade in the light of the streetlight, dry blood staining the blade.

"I found a relatively intact arm from the last victim. There was squeezing involved... I don't really want to talk about it." Sam muttered, screwing his face up at the memory.

Dean blanched at Sam's words and scrunched his nose. "Eww."

"Big time. So what now?"

"Any idea how to lure a Manticore?"

"He seemed to take a shine to you." Sam suggested with a shrug.

"Bait him? Make him think his voodoo mind powers worked?" Dean guessed, getting Sam's hint.

"Do you think you can resist him?" Sam asked.

Dean hesitated for a moment. Could he? He did the first time but he had a feeling the Manticore hadn't really been trying that time.

"I can do it."

Even to his own ears that sounded more like a reassurance than a promise.


Dean's boots crunched across the dry leaves of the forest floor. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and he shivered violently in the freezing night air. Ranger Manson had been contacted easily enough, all it had taken was a well-phrased email to Ranger Manson's private email address, conveniently found on the Gila National Forest website. So now Dean was waiting in the middle of a forest that gave him the creeps waiting to meet up with the date rapist from Hell.

"You came."

The impossibly smooth voice made Dean jump and he spun around to face Ranger Manson. The nervous that had been thrumming through him all night disappeared at the sight of Ranger Manson. It should have been impossible but the man was even more good looking at night, the glow of the moon making him shine.

"Of course. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you." He whispered in answer.

No. Manson is the Manticore. A killer.

"I've been thinking about you too…"

"Dean." He answered the unasked question.

He's a killer. Dean, Fight it.

"Dean. What a wonderful name." the man's voice was like butter and it washed over Dean.

He felt his heart stutter at the complement and he was beginning to feel light headed. God the man was gorgeous.

Manson stepped closer until they were inches apart. Dean's mind went completely blank as he inhaled Manson's musky scent and his head spun pleasantly. This man was wonderful, how had he ever thought otherwise. A hand reached up, cupping his face softly and Dean pushed into the touch. He shivered in desire as piercing blue eyes bore into him, causing him to pant.

"Do you want me Dean? I want you." Manson whispered, his breath ghosting across Dean's face.

Their bodies pressed together and Dean found himself arching his body into the touch. Lust pooled in his stomach and his body burned in want. He reached up and dug his fingers into Manson's hair.

"I want you. I want you so much. Please." Dean wasn't sure what he was begging for, but he knew whatever it was; he needed it.

Manson backed him up against the nearest tree, crushing their bodies together and making Dean gasp desperately. He hooked his leg around Manson's waist and rocked his hips, trying to relive some of the pressure in his cock. Manson kissed down the expanse of his neck, biting at the tender skin. When he pulled away Dean raised his left hand and rubbed a thumb across Manson's lips. He blinked when a flash came from his finger, the light from moon hitting something and catching his eye.

Doesn't matter. Manson is only thing that matters.

It happened again and this time something was creeping into the back of mind. Something wasn't right.

He blinked heavily and focused his attention to where the flashing was coming from.

A ring? Why do I have ring? Why is it important?

"Look at me Dean. Just you and me."

His head was swimming but this time it was making him feel sick. He didn't want to look at Manson. There was something important about that ring. It signified something important, something so important. What was it?

Crowley. Oh god, Crowley.

Dean felt like throwing up. What had he done? Manson was still pressed against him and it made him feel sick to his stomach. His skin was crawling with disgust. Towards himself or Manson he wasn't sure.

Both. Definitely both.

Manson reached for is face and he flinched away. Manson froze and frowned at Dean, taken by surprise by the rejection.

"What's wrong Dean?"

The voice that moments ago made his knees weak with desire now made bile rise in his throat. Dean plastered on a fake smile and reached a hand around to the back of his jeans, grabbing the hilt of his knife.

"I'm taken Manson. He may be a sadistic bastard but he's my sadistic bastard. I wouldn't change him for anything. So he may not be tall and tan, with eyes bluer than the sky but that's alright and you know why?"

"Why?" Manson asked, his mouth twisting into a nasty sneer.

"I prefer red eyes."

Dean swung the knife forward, slicing through skin and muscle tissue into Manson's stomach. Normally it wouldn't have been a kill shot but Dean was hoping it wouldn't have to be, the blood and knife would do its job.

It did.

Manson slumped against him, mouth open in a silent scream. His eyes flashed and yellow blood poured from his mouth, he jerked against Dean before slumping to the ground. Dean stared in horror as Ranger Manson disappeared and he saw he true form of a Manticore for the first time.

It was massive, and laying spread out dead on the ground Dean was surprised to see it still had blue eyes. He slumped against the tree and slid to the ground. He could still feel the hickeys Manson had sucked onto his neck and that thought made him vomit uncontrollably on the ground next to him. He was still dry heaving when Sam appeared through the trees running towards him, worry written across every inch of his face. Dean wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking up at Sam accusingly.

"What took so long?" he muttered, voice rough from vomiting.

"You said to keep back!" Sam reminded him loudly.

Dean wanted to argue but all he could think about was Crowley and what he'd done. He was horrified when tears began to flow freely down his checks but he couldn't stop and when Sam pulled him into a hug he cried harder, while Sam pretended not to feel the Dean's tears wetting his neck.

Chapter Text

Dean was silent the entire ride back to the motel, looking out the window and trying desperately not to start crying again. It had taken him twenty minutes to gather himself in the forest and he didn't want and repeat of that and he was sure Sam didn't want that either. He was sure the reason he was so emotional was due to the Manticore messing with his head and feelings. Well that and the soul crushing guilt resting on his shoulders. No matter how many times Sam said otherwise, he had cheated on Crowley, betrayed his trust and when he told Crowley; Dean wasn't sure he would be forgiven.

The sun was beginning to rise, turning the sky a golden orange when Dean dragged himself into the motel room. Before Sam could follow him inside he turned around and blocked the door.

"Can you um…. disappear for a few hours?" he asked softly, voice like gravel from crying.

Sam hesitated before nodded, knowing why Dean needed him gone for a bit. "Sure. I'll get another room."

He left Dean standing in the dark room alone and Dean watched as he headed to the check in office to rent another room before closing the door and staring at the dark beds. He sighed heavily and tried to breath around the lump in his throat that seemed to growing with each passing moment. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone, staring at the screen sadly. Closing his eyes he gather what courage he could and tapped on Crowley's number with growing dread.

'I need to talk to you.'

After their argument Dean wasn't even sure Crowley would answer or how pissed he'd be if he did. So he was surprised when the demon showed up not thirty seconds later in the middle of the still dark room.

The silence in room only served to make Dean even more uncomfortable.

"You still angry?" he asked hesitantly, not meeting Crowley's eyes.

"Angry doesn't even cover it." Crowley answered simply.

Dean nodded and continued to stare at the floor, shame drowning him

"What did you do Dean?" Crowley asked eventually when it became clear Dean wasn't going to speak.

Dean didn't bother asking him how Crowley knew he'd done something. He didn't have to, no one knew him better than Crowley, and the demon could read him like a book.

"Which conversation do you want to have first? Our argument or the other thing?" he asked hesitantly.

Crowley frowned, narrowing his eyes and watching him suspiciously. "What's the other thing?"

Dean's breathing hitched and although he'd practiced what he was going to say in the car,meh found the words catching in his throat. He suddenly wondered if it was possible to make Crowley angry enough to hurt him. No. Crowley wouldn't hurt him, not physically at least. He knew that without a doubt.

Crowley was still watching him closely and Dean knew he had to say something. He was an adult and he needed to act like one. Taking a deep breath he forced out the words that made him hate himself.

"I cheated."

His voice was barely above a whisper but there was no doubt Crowley heard him. The demon tensed and his eyes flashed with hurt before going completely blank. That look, that complete shut down made Dean's heart ache. Crowley had trusted him, trusted him in a way he'd never trusted anyone before and Dean had thrown it back in his face.

"Who is she?" the demon asked sharply, making Dean flinch.

"Wasn't a woman." Dean murmured softly.

Somehow that made it so much worse.

"A man? You let another man fuck you?"


"So you fucked him?"

Dean wined at the hash words but the words were stuck in his throat. He simply shook his head and stared at the wall opposite his bed. Crowley's mouth twisted into a sneer and striding across the room he pulled Dean harshly up by his arm, forcing him to stand and face him.

"Look at me!" he roared, making Dean jump.

Crowley's grip on his arm was painful, strong fingers digging into his flesh and causing bruises.

"There was no fucking." Dean managed to choke out, finding his voice.

Crowley snarled and grabbed his face, holding his jaw firmly in place. "Did you kiss him?"

"No." Dean answered, shaking his head. "He kissed my neck and I... humped him." he explained, voice breaking.

"Why should I believe you?" Crowley demanded, not releasing his face.

"Because I've never lied to you. I'm not proud of what I've done, but I'm telling you the truth." Dean promised, silently begging him to believe him.

"Why Dean? Was it because we argued? Were you drunk? Why?"

Dean closed his eyes and tried to ignore the ache in his heart after hearing the hurt in his voice.

"No! I didn't do this to punish you for something and there isn't enough alcohol in America to make me unfaithful to you. It was the Manticore. He fucked with my head." Dean explained hurriedly.

"The Manticore?" Crowley blinked and looked at him like he was stupid.

"That's how it lures it victims. It fucks with your head, makes you think you're in love."

Crowley pulled away and glared at him accusingly. "Assuming I actually believe that crap; you knew all of that and you still went after it?"

"I thought I could fight it! I had before and I thought I could do it again. I fucked up, I fucked everything up and I'll never be able to explain how sorry I am."

The room was once again silent except this time it was Crowley avoiding eye contact.

"You swear you didn't fuck him?" he asked eventually, giving Dean hope. "If you lie to me Dean, I'll find out. You know I will."

"I swear."

Crowley moved back over to him and cupped his face; much gentler than he had the first time.

"You know if you were anyone else, I'd cut out your spleen and feed it to you. Why is it so easy to forgive you?" Crowley muttered, more to himself than Dean.

"You forgive me?"

"Promise you didn't fuck him?"


"You didn't kiss him?"

"I didn't."

"Than yes. Maybe not completely, not yet. But I will."

Dean let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Everything would be alright, Crowley forgave him. He wouldn't forgive himself for a long while but as long as he had Crowley it would be all right. Dean smiled sadly and moved forward, going in for a kiss but stopped as he realized that maybe Crowley wouldn't want to kiss him. Thankfully his fears were unfounded and Crowley captured his lips in a soft yet possessive kiss. Dean moaned into the kiss and pulled their bodies together. He knew they still had to have a conversation about their argument but that could wait until later.

Dean flinched when Crowley pushed him against the kitchen table but he said nothing, feeling like he deserved a bit of pain after what he'd done. Crowley smirk and pulled Dean's shirt over his head roughly and attacking the vulnerable skin with sharp teeth, biting and nipping. Dean gasped loudly and arched into the heated touch, desperate to erase the memory of Manson's touch from his body. Punishing teeth scraped across his collarbone, leaving red marks in their wake. A strong hand wrapped around the side of his neck and a well-paced thumb under his chin kept his neck exposed to every harsh bite.

With no warning Crowley reached down and popped the button of his jeans open, ripping his pants and boxers down before spinning him around and smashing the front of his body into the kitchen table hard enough to cause bruises.

Before he could protest, he yelped when his hair was griped roughly and his head pulled back.

"You are going to do exactly what I tell you to do. You belong to me and I think you need reminding of that fact." Crowley growled into his ear, biting his ear lobe hard enough to draw blood.

"Yes. I'm yours, whatever you want." Dean whimpered, arching back against the demon, body crying out for Crowley's touch.

Crowley growled and held Dean steady.

"Now don't be naughty." Crowley warned.

A strong hand came down on his exposed ass, the slap echoing through the room followed by Dean's yelp. Crowley had never spanked him before, he'd teased him about it but Dean had never thought he'd actually do it.

Before he could think more on the situation, two fingers were shoved near his mouth. "Suck."

Dean opened his mouth and greedily sucked in two fingers, coating them in as much saliva as he could, knowing exactly what they would be used for. He wet them as much as he could, knowing it would be the only preparation he'd get. Normally Crowley used three and large amounts of lube but Dean knew this was less about pleasure and more about Crowley marking his territory, dominating him.

"You're so good with your mouth baby, you were born to do this."

Crowley pulled the fingers out with a pop and in any other circumstances Dean would have been embarrassed at the obscene slurping noises he made. Dean screeched when he felt two slicked fingers roughly push him, the pleasure of having something inside nearly completely overwhelmed be the pain of the sudden intrusion.

"You're so tight." Crowley grunted, harshly preparing him

Dean whimpered when Crowley's fingers brushed against his prostate and giving him his first bit of pleasure since they'd started.

Dean moaned brokenly when Crowley ceased his movements and his fingers stood stationary inside him, causing him to clench and unclench around the demon's fingers encouraging him to move.

"Crowley." Dean whined.

"Who do you belong to Dean?" Crowley murmured, kneading the soft globes of Dean's ass harshly.

"Please." Dean whimpered again, coherent thought flying out the window.

"Who do you belong to Dean?" Crowley asked again, more aggressive this time spanked him again, putting more force behind it than the last one.

"You. Only ever you. You're the only one I want.," he whispered as pressing his face against the cold tabletop, trying to cool his feverish skin.

"Oh fuck!" he screeched, arching his back painfully when Crowley tore his fingers out and entered him in one thrust.

Dean could barely breath as pain spread throughout his ass and lower back. It felt like he was being torn in half, but he couldn't deny how much he was enjoying being completely owned by the demon.

Crowley didn't give him time to adjust to the sudden intrusion and thrust roughly into the amazing heat. Each harsh thrust bought a soft whimper from Dean as the force of the thrust crashed him into the table causing much needed friction to his cock. The pain of Crowley's quick intrusion was beginning to dull and the pleasure was spreading throughout his body and caused his cock to pulse.

"You're the one who can make me feel like this. The one who owns me completely." Dean muttered, not exactly sure what he was saying but judging by the strangled moan from Crowley, it was the right thing to say.

"Oh fuck yes!" Dean yelled when Crowley begun to hit his prostate head on, "There, there, there, oh fuck yes there!" Dean gasped out desperately.

Crowley smirked as Dean withered against him and he griped Dean's hips painfully tight in order to keep him still enough so he could hit his target.

"Please Crowley! I'm gonna cum." Dean begged, hissing through his teeth.

"Cum baby, cum for me." Crowley encouraged, speeding up his thrusts.

Dean pushed back into the demon, sending his cock deeper then Dean had thought possible.

"So close, so close." he murmured, feeling the pleasure coil in his stomach, "Almost, almost, oh fuck, Crowley!" Dean screamed, coming harder then he had done in a long time.

His cum splattered on the table and on his stomach, powerful waves of pleasure shooting throughout his body and his muscles tightened clenched around Crowley's cock. Slowly the pleasure receded and Dean slumped exhausted against the wall, panting heavily.

Crowley continued to impale Dean punishingly on his cock, the tightness slightly less as every muscle in Dean's body was jelly after the power of his orgasm. Dean moaned quietly as Crowley continued to thrust into his abused hole.

"I'm gonna fill you up, I'm gonna empty my cum so far into your ass you'll taste it." Crowley panted into Dean's ear, causing Dean to release a tired moan as his cock twitched in interest at the filthy words.

Dean could feel his balls begin to tighten and sped up his thrusts, enjoying the sound of his balls slapping against Dean's ass followed by Dean's half aroused whimpers.

"Fill me Crowley, fill me and make me yours." Dean begged, pushing Crowley over the edge and with a roar he emptied himself into his lover.

Dean hummed as Crowley's cum filled his ass, warmth spreading through his body and he squeezed his ass griping Crowley's cock and milking every last drop. With a grunt Crowley dropped his head onto Dean's shoulder, smirking when he slowly pulled out and the younger man whined at the loss.

Turning around, Dean wrapped his arms around Crowley's neck and buried his face in his chest, still recovering from his mind-blowing orgasm. Crowley wrapped his own arms around him and rested his chin on the top of Dean's head and both stood together in silence except for soft panting as they recovered and their heart rates returned to normal.

Dean shifted as the cum on his stomach began to dry and with a sleepy groan realised Crowley's cum had begun to leak out of his ass and was slowly dribbling down his leg.

"Jump up." Crowley whispered in his ear.

Dean didn't think and just wrapped his legs tightly around Crowley's waist, trusting Crowley to hold his full weight. He nuzzled into the demon's sweaty neck as he was carried to the bed. Crowley lay him down and followed him onto the bed, wrapping their bodies together and sinking into the mattress. This time the silence in the room wasn't unpleasant or stifling, it was comfortable and lazy, Dean enjoying having the heavy weight lifted from his conscience. Dean sighed and nuzzled his nose into Crowley's chest hair, basking in the feeling of the gentle hand drifting up and down his spine.

"I do forgive you Dean but if anything like this happens again; I don't care if you're drunk, I don't care if you're not in your right mind, I don't care if you're fucking hypnotized. If it happens again, I will leave you." Crowley warned him quietly, his hand never stopping its path along Dean's back.

"Why are you forgiving me this time? You don't believe in second chances." Dean asked despite himself. He craned his neck to look up at Crowley and rubbed a thumb along the demon's jaw.

Crowley looked down at him with a soft smile, "Because I…." he paused and Dean could see him battling with something. "…I care about you."

Dean let out a puff of air and smiled up at him, wriggling closer to Crowley. "You really can't say it, can you?"

"Does it need saying? Everything I've done for you, everything I'm willing to do for you, doesn't that show you how I feel?"

"Of course it does. But it would nice to hear it out loud." Dean admitted, before kissing Crowley's jaw and pulling away from him. He sat up and looked down at the demon who was cocking his head in confusion. "There are still some things we have to talk about."

"Are you going to apologize for acting recklessly?" Crowley asked once he'd understood what Dean was talking about.


"Then there's nothing to discuss."

Dean stared down at him in shock, mouth hanging open at the answer. "Really? Is that how this works? Doesn't matter if we have a difference of opinion because you're right and I'm wrong. That's bullshit and you know it."

"I am right! I told you not to go after the Manticore! I told you something would happen and I think we'll both agree that something did happen!" Crowley growled, leaning up on his elbows and frowning at Dean.

Dean rocked back and his face hardened like he'd been slapped. "Don't do that. Don't say you forgive me for something and then throw it back in my face to win an argument that has nothing to do with it. You had no idea what I might do with the Manticore. You just thought I'd die!"

"Just die? Dying is not a paper cut Dean! It is not a joke! Do have any idea what would happen to you if you died?" Crowley roared, shooting up and pushing his face close to Dean's.

"Yeah, I'd go to Hell. To you. Right?" Dean answered hesitantly, not sure of the answer.

"No Dean. Maybe a month ago, but not now. Raphael is pissed Dean and he wants you to suffer. If you die, he will take your soul before I can get to it. And although I would burn heaven to the ground to find you, I wouldn't. Not where he'd put you." Crowley wrapped his hand around the back of Dean's neck firmly and pressed their foreheads together. "Raphael would spend eternity carving into your soul like a Halloween pumpkin and there wouldn't be a damn thing I could do about it."

Dean closed at the demon's words and lifted a hand to cup Crowley's cheek. "I get why that scares you. It scares me too but I can't change who I am. And I think it's pretty shitty that you expect me to. When we first started dating you told me not to expect you to change, and I never have! Do you think I like washing blood out of your clothes? Do you think it doesn't bother me when you come home angry as all fuck and ignore me for days? Do you think I like coming downstairs and finding demons eating breakfast in my fucking kitchen? Trust me Crowley, you're not exactly a shinning beacon of perfection! But I have never asked you to be something you're not and I never would."

Crowley sighed and pressed his lips against Dean's softly. Dean's eyelids fluttered at the kiss and sunk into the touch, soaking in the comfort he received. The kiss wasn't passionate or demanding, there was no fighting for dominance; it was simple and soft, and one of the most perfect kisses Dean had ever experienced.

"Can we both agree that we handled it badly?" Crowley asked once they'd broken the kiss.

"That sounds good." Dean agreed with a crooked smile.


"Where the fuck are we?" Sam muttered, scrunching his nose in disgust.

The building was massive from the outside and Sam got the feeling it was even bigger than it looked. It had the air about it that at one point it had been a decent place but years of neglect had made fall into disrepair. The windows were smashed and the walls peeling and stained with dirt, grim and mold. The place gave Sam a massive case of the creeps.

"It's a old mental institution. Abandoned in the fifties." Crowley explained, opening the door and gesturing for them to go inside.

Dean went inside without a word but Sam pulled a face before stepping hesitantly inside. They followed Crowley down a maze of corridors until they were both completely lost. Insides was just as disgusting as the outside and Sam found himself ignoring various suspicious stains on the floors and walls as they moved further into the building.

"What do you use this place for?" Dean asked curiously, looking around with wide eyes. "It has kind of a serial killer aura going on."

"Punishment mostly. Demons aren't really afraid of Hell and I needed to give them something to fear otherwise they might start getting dangerous ideas. It also comes in handy as a prison. Meg is in here, so are a number of other Lucifer loyalists." Crowley explained, guiding them into a room at the end of a corridor.

When they entered the room, Dean was surprised to see John standing in the middle of the room. After all the trouble over the last few days, Dean had completely forgotten that John was involved in all of it.

"What took you so long?" John grunted, crossing the room. "I've been waiting here for hours."

"Yes and he's been absolutely charming company." Crowley muttered, rolling his eyes in Dean's direction.

"Well hello to you to you to dad. Yes Sam and I are fine, thanks for asking." Dean answered, feeling his blood pressure spike just by being in the same room as John.

He noticed an elaborate drawing on the floor drawn in what Dean guessed to be blood. He didn't recognize the marks but he assumed it was the angel version of a demon trap. Crowley picked up a knife from a battered table and reached into a draw to pull out the jar of Manticore venom. Dean watched as he unscrewed the lid and poured the small amount of venom onto the knife.

"Will that be enough?" Dean asked, worried when he saw how little of the venom there actually was.

"It's not how much you have, it's what you do with it." Crowley muttered, spreading the venom across the knife with a cloth and being careful not to let any touch his skin. "Everyone spread out equally around the circle." He instructed, pointing where he wanted them to stand.

When they were in place, Crowley swallowed and took a breath. Dean knew from his tense posture, the demon was nervous and Dean couldn't blame him. No demon wanted to mess with angels, no matter how powerful the demon was and Raphael wasn't just an angel, he was an arch.

John moved away from the circle and Dean felt the hair on the back of neck stand up in warning. "What are you doing?" he asked, following John with his eyes.

John headed over to the table and picked up an old piece of tattered paper. "So this is the angel summoning?"

"Get back in the circle." Crowley answered, narrowing his eyes.

"No. I don't think I will."

Before Dean could react, John pulled a gun out of the back of his waistband and pointed it him.

"Hands where I can see them." John demanded.

Dean sighed and raised his hands, followed by Sam and Crowley.

"You didn't check if he had a gun?" Sam growled at Crowley.

"I didn't think he'd be that stupid!" Crowley grunted back before flicking a finger in John's direction.

Nothing happened.

Crowley frowned and flicked his fingers again, once more nothing happened and he narrowed his eyes at John.

John shrugged and used his spare hand to pull a necklace with a small wooden talisman attached. "Sorry, your Jedi powers aren't going to work on me. It pays to have friends in high places."

Crowley huffed and closed his eyes. "Fucking Winchesters." He muttered bitterly.

"Yeah, raging pains in the ass. I know." John shrugged. "Now, I have some business to attended to so you're all going to have to leave the room for a while. Don't worry though, it won't be for long."


Dean sighed and looked around the grey walled cell. The room was even more disgusting than the rest of the building, Dean was pretty sure there was a decomposing finger in the corner. John had put locked him and Sam in two separate rooms but there was a small barred window near the roof and he could hear Sam pacing back and forward. For some reason he hadn't bothered putting him and Crowley in different rooms, probably because he still didn't view Crowley as a threat, a mistake the demon in question would make sure he regretted.

Usually he wasn't all that worried when something like this happened, he was an expert at pulling daring escapes out of his ass however this time felt different. This felt final. He couldn't help but think about his last discussion with Death. He'd been right, all the times Dean had died had taken the finality out of it; he'd come to think of it as a temporary thing. But not this time. Crowley was right, Raphael would kill him and put his soul where no one would find it.

"You wouldn't happen to have any last minute crazy plan would you?" Crowley asked suddenly.

"Nope. Not this time."

Dean sighed and shifted uncomfortably, the floor was freezing. They were sat side by side and leaning against the hard concrete wall.


Dean looked up to where Sam's voice was drifting through barred window.

"Yeah Sammy?"

"We're going to die aren't we?"

"Looks that way Sam." Dean answered dully. No point in lying to him.

"Well then there's something I have to tell you."

"Sam can we not do this? I really don't want to do the whole last words thing." Dean cut in before Sam could continue.

"Just shut up and listen Dean. If I'm about to die, I'm going to say whatever I damn well please and you're going to listen to me."

Dean sighed but kept his mouth shut and leaned his head on Crowley's shoulder. "Go ahead Sam."

There was a long pause and Dean wondered if Sam had changed his mind.

"I know dad used to hit you when we were kids."

Sam's words hit the breath of his lungs; it was like a punch to the stomach. "How do you know that?"

"I was young Dean, not stupid. Dad would come home drunk and the next morning you'd be covered in bruises. Wasn't hard to figure out." Sam admitted, his voice barely audible through the window. "When you ended up in the hospital I told Bobby. He told dad if he ever touched you again, he'd put him in the ground himself."

Dean didn't know what to say and was more than grateful when Crowley wrapped a strong arm around his shoulders.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Figured if you wanted me to know you would have told me. Anything you want to admit to?"

Dean snorted but decided to go along with it. "Remember Jason Wilkerson?"

"My best friend from high school?" Sam guessed, unsure.

"Yeah. We had a thing." Dean admitted, feeling awkward at voicing a secret he'd kept quiet for over ten years.

"What kind of thing?" Sam asked, accusation clear in his voice.

"A sex thing."

"You fucked my best friend! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

If Dean had to guess he would say Sam was now standing right under he window and he sounded pissed.

"Wait…he was sixteen!" Sam said suddenly, sounding horrified.


"And you were twenty-one you fucking pervert!"

"Oh please Sam, you make it sound like I lured him into a unmarked white van with candy." Dean snorted. "He came after me."

"Can you two shut up? This is not how I want to spend my last few hours." Crowley growled, rolling his eyes.

Sam huffed but remained quiet and moved away from the window.

"Anything you want to tell me before we die?" Dean asked, smirking up at Crowley.

"Sometimes when you piss me off; deliberately go against what I tell you to do, I fantasize about waiting for you to fall asleep and suffocating you with a pillow." Crowley admitted without hesitation.

Dean looked up at him in shock, mouth hanging open. "You fantasize about killing me?"

"Not all the time and I'd never actually go through with it." Crowley shrugged. "Don't look at me like that, after all this time you should know not ask me questions you don't want the answer to."

Dean closed his mouth and shook his head. He glanced up at the window and wondered how much Sam could actually hear and then decided he didn't care. He slipped out from under Crowley's arm and stood up before standing over Crowley's legs.

Dean smiled softly and lowered himself down onto Crowley's legs. He leaned forward and undid the buttons on Crowley's pants with practiced ease, pulling them down as far as he could.

"What are you doing Dean?" Crowley asked softly but made no effort to stop him.

Dean shrugged and pulled Crowley's boxers down. "If I'm going to die, I want to make love to you one last time."

When Crowley made no objection, Dean unzipped his jeans and wriggled out of them before kicking them across the room. He didn't bother with either of their shirts, they didn't have time to get dressed again after as Raphael or John could come in any minute. Crowley was only half hard so Dean reached forward and gripped his cock firmly, pumping him to full hardness.

They were so close Dean could feel Crowley's breath against his face and shivers wracked his body as desire coursed through him. It wasn't desire for sex or orgasm; it was simply the desire to feel close to Crowley. A need to feel connected and safe for one last time before an eternity of torment began.

He spat on his hand and lathered Crowley's cock with as much as he could, before gripping the demons shoulders tightly as he pulled himself up. Crowley's hands shot out and gripped his waist to keep him steady. He lowered himself down slowly on Crowley's cock, gasping at the painful burn of the barely lubricated entrance. His body shook as he was filled completely and settled down on Crowley's lap. He was on fire and he rested his head on Crowley's shoulder, rolling his hips in circles.

Crowley moaned wetly against his neck and gripped his hips tightly, fingers slipping against the sweat soaked skin. He sped up his thrusts and nibbled along Crowley's jaw. Crowley's hand left his hip and cupped his face tenderly, guiding their lips together and kissing him passionately. Dean groaned and kissed back wantonly. Crowley was filling him to the brim and his stomach was twisting as he neared his orgasm.

His hips jerked uncontrollably, his body shaking as unconditional love for the demon beneath him crashed over him like a wave. Crowley pressed their foreheads together and their eyes locked; green against flaming red, mouths open and breath mingling together. Their orgasms came slowly, building between them and washing over them like warm water. Crowley empty inside him and Dean exploding between their bodies. They both stilled as they shuddered through their orgasms, holding each other close and basking in the feel of the other.

Crowley cupped Dean's face and kissed him softly. He pulled away but kept their eyes locked together, eyes still burning red.

"Dean Winchester, I love you." Crowley's voice was rough like gravel and his words shook Dean to the core.

Dean let loose a shaky breath and his eyes filled with unshed tears. Oh God, this is real. This really is the end.

"I love you too." He whispered, closing his eyes and pushing his cheek into Crowley's hand. "I love you too."

Chapter Text

Well here we go. The last chapter. I’ve been wondering how I was going to end this story from the beginning and I had a lot endings planned but this one seemed to fit. I hope its lives up to expectations. I’m so sorry to see this story end but I’m so happy everyone likes it so much. Anyway, enjoy.




Dean was still curled in Crowley's lap twenty minutes later, head resting on the demon's shoulder and trying to gather enough energy to stand up and pull his pants back on before John came back. The chilly air of the room was sinking into his skin and he'd just begun shivering when the room started shaking. It was like an earthquake had hit, brick dust raining down on them and lights flickering madly. Unfortunately Dean knew better then to think it was an earthquake.

The whole thing had incoming archangel written all over it. Dean pulled away from Crowley and looked him in the eye. Without saying a word he stood up and picked his jeans off the floor, gave them a shake and slipped them on. Crowley tucked himself back into his pants and pushed himself off the floor. They stood side-by-side and waited. Waited for John and Raphael. Neither said a word, but that was alright. They'd already said what they'd needed to. Crowley admittance of loving him had left a warmth in Dean's chest that not even Raphael's approach could dampen.

It was ten minutes before the door to their cell opened. Dean couldn't contain a sneer at the sight of Raphael. Out of all the angles he hated, there had always been a special place in that hatred for Raphael. He wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the pure smugness that rolled off the angel in waves or it could have been the complete and utter disdain the angel had for him and humanity in general. Raphael had upgraded his clothes since the last time Dean had seen him and was now in a expensive looking suit, although he didn't look nearly as hot in a suit as Crowley did; he noted with a smirk.

"Dean. It's been a while."

“Not long enough. I’d hoped you forgotten about me.” Dean answered with a shrug. No matter how scared he was, he wasn’t going to let Raphael see it.

Raphael stepped further into the room and Dean felt Crowley tense next to him. Angels were probably the only thing that could make Crowley unsure.

“Oh I had. But then I heard a rumor about you hooking up with a demon, and not just any demon, the new resident king of hell. And you know, I just couldn’t let that happen.” Raphael was closer to them now and gestured to them both. “By yourself you’re both easy enough to deal with but I just can’t let you join forces. You’d be too powerful. So you have to die. Although I will admit, it will give me no small pleasure to peel the skin from your bones.”

Although Dean couldn’t see his face, he knew Crowley was bristling at the threat towards him. Before the demon could do something stupid, Sam appeared in the doorway being pushed forward by John.

The sight of John made Dean’s heart rate jump and anger claw at his insides. Raphael was just another douche bag Angel; there was nothing he could do that could surprise Dean. John however was something different. Everything John had grilled into them over the years about family loyalty, all the lectures, all the years he’d been shoving down their throats the importance of family and he’d betrayed them to a complete stranger. He’d led them right into a trap and turned them over with a moment of hesitance.

“So why bother brining me back?” Sam asked as he pushed roughly towards Dean. He stumbled slightly but caught himself and stood next to Dean, staring at Raphael stonily and silently demanding an answer.

“Oh you were a mistake.” Raphael shrugged. “John was my goal, after all, you two have proven over and over again that the only thing that can really break a Winchester is another Winchester, but I wasn’t specific enough and I got Sam instead. Spells are tricky like that. Don’t make things clear enough and you end up with the wrong Winchester.”

As he explained, Dean gritted his teeth. The same cocky attitude Dean loved in Crowley made the bile in his throat when it came from Raphael.

“You are a massive bag of dicks.” Dean muttered at Raphael before turning his attention to John. “And one day you’re gonna realise just how much you fucked up and it’s going to be too late.”

“And you’re spreading your legs for a hell spawn. Don’t really think you’re in any position to throw stones Dean.” Raphael shook his head at Dean like he was a naughty child. The Angel pulled out the Manticore venom dipped knife out and twisted it around, watching it catch the light. “Thank you for this by the way. That Manticore was the last in existence, its venom was the only thing that could really hurt me, well the only thing a human could get their hands on. That’s one less thing I have to worry about.”

Dean swallowed and unconsciously shifted closer to Crowley, pressing their arms together and wishing he could feel the demon’s body heat through the thick suit jacket. He had a feeling Raphael was coming to the end of his gloating.

“Anyway, lets get this show on the road. I have a proposition for you Crowley.”

“Shove it up your feathered ass.” Crowley growled.

“Don’t be hasty. Technically you’re still a crossroads demon, you should be able to appreciate a good deal.” Raphael pointed out, leaning against the wall and examined his nails calmly. “Sam and Dean are going to die, that’s just a fact but you don’t have to. No one knows where demons go when they die, do you really want to find out?”

“So what did you have in mind?” Crowley sneered.

“I can’t run Heaven and Hell by myself. Of course you’d work for me but you’d still have reign of Hell and more importantly, you’d be alive.” Raphael explained.

“That wasn’t part of the plan! What are you doing?” John yelled, speaking up for the first time.

“I’d watch how you speak to me. You have officially outlived your usefulness, don’t push it.” Raphael warned John, shooting him a disdainful look.

John looked shocked at Raphael’s sudden change in attitude by wisely chose to say nothing.

Raphael watched John a moment longer before turning his attention back to Crowley. “But of course you’ll have to prove you’re serious about working for me. You can start by killing Dean.”

Dean froze and his gaze turned to Crowley sharply but the demon was ignoring him, and instead staring hard at Raphael. Would Crowley take the offer? Did his love for Dean outweigh his deep-seated sense of self-preservation?

“Fuck you. And fuck your offer.” Crowley finally answered.

“Crowley.” Dean muttered, reaching out and laying a hand on his shoulder.

Crowley looked at him in shock, knowing what Dean wanted him to do. “No Dean!”

Dean sighed and pushed down that little voice that was rejoicing at the fact Crowley loved him more than his own life. “I’m going to die, one way or another, but if there’s a chance for you to get out of this…..”

“And what? All I have to do is kill you?” Crowley whispered, cutting him off and reaching out and stroking Dean’s cheek softly. His hands were rough and Dean knew then how broken the idea made him. Crowley’s hands were shaking. “No. I can’t. I won’t. I’d rather die.”

"You know Dean, I've died a lot of times but this is the shittiest way yet! And it's all your fault!"

Dean started at the sudden blast of angry words from Sam and had to blink a few times before he understood what Sam wanted him to do. "You know Dean, I've died a lot of times but this is the shittiest way yet! And it's all your fault!"

Dean narrowed his eyes and stepped away from Crowley. "Excuse me? How the fuck is this my fault?" he hissed.

"You just had to fuck the demon scum didn't you? And not only that but you fell in love with the bastard! And now we're all going to die because you couldn't keep your slutty legs closed."

"I am not a fucking slut! I haven't been with anyone but Crowley in nearly two years." being called a slut hurt, even if he knew Sam didn't mean it. "If I weren’t spreading my legs, you’d still be in the cage being bitch slapped by Lucy and Mickey. And you have no to right to get all high and mighty. It seems fucking demons runs in the family!"

"Oh please, I bet Crowley passes you around his demon buddies like a used tissue. Lucifer and Michael were right; you're a whore! You bent over for that Manticore quick enough."

"Watch what you fucking say or I'll kill you myself." Crowley growled, pushing past Dean and grabbing Sam by the throat.

Sam may have been head and shoulders taller then Crowley but he didn't have the same supernatural strength the demon did. Crowley managed to force Sam backwards closer to John, who was looking on horrified.

"Let him go Crowley!" Dean pleaded, following them across the room.

"Are you sure?" Crowley asked, gaze flickering between Sam, John and Raphael.

"Yes. Now!"

Everyone moved quicker than Dean could see. Crowley let Sam go who then lunge forward and tackled John to the floor. Dean and Crowley jumped at Raphael while the Angel was still startled by the surprise attack. Dean was thankful for all of Crowley's angel warding throughout the building.

They were enough to cut down Raphael's power significantly; enough for Dean to kick the knife out of Raphael's hand and pick it up himself. He stabbed at the first bit of skin he saw, ramming the blade deeply into a shoulder, while Crowley was enjoying getting in few punches. Unfortunately the warding didn't block Raphael's powers completely and once the element of surprise had passed, the angel threw them off like rag dolls.

Sam had overpowered John easily enough, holding him down with a knee to the back but it didn’t last. He went flying through the air with Dean and Crowley before they all crashed painfully against the wall.

“That was smart. I didn’t see that one coming.” Raphael panted, the venom from the knife coursing through him. It wasn’t enough to kill him but it did slow him down.

Dean tried to pull himself away from the wall but found he couldn’t. He was stuck and judging from the way Sam and Crowley were fidgeting, so were they.

Raphael stepped in front of Dean and wrapped and hand around his throat in a crushing grip. “I was going to kill you quickly but just for that, I’m going to make you suffer.” He nodded his head in Crowley’s direction. “And I’m going to make him watch.”

The hand tightened around his throat and Dean cold feel his lungs fighting for air. Cold fear washed over him as he realised; this was it. He was going to die and this time he wasn’t going to come back.

Just as his vision began to blur there was a knock at the door. Everyone froze in surprise. Raphael turned his head to look at the closed door with a frown. There was a beat as they waited.

Another knock.

“You should really get that.” Sam pushed, looking wide eyed as Dean continued to struggle for air.

Raphael paused before rolling his eyes and letting go of Dean’s throat. Dean gasped for breath, spluttering as his throat ached. That would definitely leave a bruise.

There was another knock as Raphael reached the door. He opened the door and revealed to source of the knocking.

Dean blinked stupidly. Things really couldn’t get any fucking weirder. It was the woman from the bar. The one who had disappeared on him.

“Oh God it’s her.” He muttered.

“Her? Who’s her?” Crowley asked suspiciously, eyes narrowed at the newcomer.

“I don’t know who she is! I met her bar and she disappeared in front of me when we were hunting the Manticore.” Dean explained.

“And you didn’t bother mentioning the mysterious disappearing woman?” Sam accused, looking at him like he was an idiot.

“I had other things on my mind in case you’re forgetting.”

“Shut up! You people are the single most irritating morons I’ve ever met.” Raphael yelled.

Dean glared at him before turning his attention to the woman. “Who are you lady?” he demanded.

The woman looked startled at Dean’s question. She frowned and looked down at herself. “Don’t you recognize me?”

“Clearly not.”

She cocked her head to one side before understand sparked in her eyes and he smiled. “Oh right. You don’t know this body. Sorry, I’ve had so many over the years. It gets hard to keep track.”

Dean watched, his mouth hanging open as the air around shimmered and Chuck replaced her.

“Chuck?” Dean muttered, sure he’d finally lost his mind.

“Hey Dean. Hey Sam.” Chuck answer, stepping further into the room. “And Crowley, I don’t believe we’ve met yet.”

Dean looked over and was shocked to see Crowley staring wide-eyed at Chuck. Fear clouding his eyes. He was going to ask what was wrong when he noticed Raphael was looking at Chuck the same way.

“Father?” Raphael whispered shakily.

It took a moment for those words to sink in. “Father? As in, God?” Dean stuttered.

“Holy shit!” Sam whispered.

“Quite.” Chuck answered drily.

“What the fuck is going on?” John demanded to know.

“I’ll deal with you in a moment.” Chuck promised before he turned his attention to Raphael. “You know, you never did play well with others. I had thought leaving you in charge might teach you a valuable lesson. Evidently I was wrong.”

Chuck’s voice sent shivers down Dean’s spine. This was not the drunk, scared Chuck he knew. This was the creator of everything, the man who was more powerful in a way that made Dean’s head ache thinking about it.

“You left us! We did everything you wanted us to, we loved you. And you left us. No warning, no instructions. What were we supposed to do?” Raphael demanded.

For the first time, Dean could actually sympathize with the Angel. He knew what it felt like for a father to leave you without warning.

“You weren’t supposed to take your anger and pain out on humanity.”

“You always loved them more. The filthy mud monkeys.”

Chuck sighed and shook his head sadly. “That’s not true. I don’t have favorites. Humans just required more attention in the beginning.”

He looked at the other people in the room before turning back to Raphael. “This is a conversation to have later. Go back to Heaven.”

“Why? So you can throw me in the cage with Lucifer and Michael?”

“No. I’m stopping you before you go too far, before you do something you can’t take back and I have no choice but to lock you in the cage.”

Raphael looked like he was going to argue but thought better of it and with one last withering glare at Dean he disappeared, allowing them to pull away from the wall. Chuck sighed sadly and turned his attention to John.

“I am very disappointed in you John Winchester. Sam and Dean are good people, in fact I like to think they’re my friends. They’ve been through a hell of a lot for this world, they don’t deserve to have their own father turn on them.” Chuck narrowed his eyes and Dean was glad he wasn’t the one getting that stare. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Send him down to me. I’ll take care of him.” Crowley growled, straightening his jacket and shooting John a look of pure hatred.

“I’m sure you would. But no. He’s going back where he came from. He never should have been brought back. Raphael will be punished severely for that. John has no place in this world anymore.”

“If it were up to me, I’d more than happily let you tear his heart out through his ass.” Dean muttered to Crowley who smiled at him in return.

“You sure how to make me all tingly inside Dean.” Crowley smirked, bumping Dean with his hip.

“Disgusting.” John murmured, watching them with a sneer.

“Keep your mouth shut or I might change my mind.” Chuck warned softly. When it seemed John wasn’t going to heed the warning, Chuck cocked his head and John fell the floor in a heap.

“What did you do?” Sam asked.

“Sent him back to where he came from.”

“What about me? Do I have to go back?” Sam asked fearfully.

Chuck looked at him closely as though deciding something. “No. I think you still have a role to play in this world.”

“So that’s it? John conspires to kill us and he gets sent back to Heaven, Raphael literally tries to destroy the world and he gets a slap on the wrist?” Dean yells, despite common sense telling him not to yell at God.

“What would you have me do? Kill one of the few angels I have left? My last Arch?”

“What did you do to with Chuck?” Sam asked suddenly.

Chuck winced and scratched the back of his neck. “There was never another Chuck. It’s always been me.”

“You were there the whole time? You saw what was happening and did nothing? You son of a bitch!” Dean yelled, the only thing stopping him from lunging at Chuck was Crowley’s hand on his arm.

Chuck froze and shot Dean a look that was overflowing with anger, making Dean take a step back. For a second he’d forgotten who he was speaking to.

“Excuse me? I interfered more in that year then I have done since the beginning of time! Or are you forgetting all my little hints and warnings? I introduced you to Becky. I put you on that plane, I bought Castiel back more than once. If it weren’t for me, you never would have met Crowley!” Chuck reminded him.

“You could have stopped it! All those people we lost, how close we came to losing and it’s all your fault!” Dean yelled back.

“My fault? See, now my memory must be fuzzy because that’s not how I remember it.” Chuck said, stepping towards him. “You’re the one who sold your soul and started torturing in Hell.” He pointed at Dean before turning on Sam. “And you’re the one who started drinking demon blood and continued despite numerous warnings from many, myself included. The apocalypse happened because you two made a series of remarkably bad decisions and that’s somehow my fault?”

“You still could have stopped it.” Sam pointed out.

“Yes I could have. But I didn’t and you know why? Because it is not my job to clean up your mess. You wanted free will, the ability to make your own choices, choose your own destiny. Well guess what, the choices you make have consequences. You don’t get to fuck up the world and expect me to make everything better.” Chuck ranted, the simmering anger enough to make them all nervous.

Dean dropped his head, feeling chastised like a small child. He wanted to continue to argue but decided he’d pushed his luck enough. He wasn’t stupid enough to risk the wrath of God.

“Right, well, I’d love to stay and chat but I’ve got some work to do. Everything’s gone to hell since I’ve been gone.” Chuck shrugged, the anger evaporating as quickly as it had appeared.

“Wait! Did Raphael do something to Cas?” Dean asked suddenly. Maybe that was why Castiel hadn’t spoken to him in over a year?

“No. Castiel has been on house arrested since Raphael took over. He’s fine.”

Dean opened his mouth to ask something else but Chuck was gone before he could.

“Is it just me, or was that a little anti-climatic?” Sam muttered, looking around the empty room. It all seemed a little too easy.

“I don’t know. We did got our asses saved by the big man himself. And either way, something was easy for once in our lives. Let’s not question it.” Dean said with a shrug, leaning heavily against Crowley.

Crowley wrapped a strong arm around his waist and pulled him close. His throat was sore, every time he swallowed it felt like swallowing razors.

“So what now?” Sam asked what they were all thinking.

“Now we go home and forget this whole fucking mess ever happened.”




Six months later

Forgetting was a lot easier said than done. Sam had moved in with him and Dean had to admit, it was nice having someone around when Crowley was away. Although it had taken a months before Crowley would leave his side for longer than a day or two. Dean nearly dying had ramped up Crowley’s protectiveness to near overbearing levels but Dean was too busy basking in it to be annoyed. Dean’s problem was he just couldn’t settle back into his old life. He dreaded going to work, he hated coming home and doing housework and laundry. And he hated watching Sam going on hunts and feeling the burning desire to go with him. He generally hated himself, hated himself for being this unhappy with his life. It shouldn’t be like this, he was happy before. Why not now?

You know why. Sam being back changed everything.

He shook his head and opened the fridge door. The orange glow of the setting sun lit up the kitchen, his muscles ached from being under cars all day and all he wanted was to go to bed. He continued to be lost in his thoughts as he removed the groceries from the paper bag and put them in the fridge.


Sam’s voice startled him and caused him to nearly drop the orange juice.

“Yeah Sammy?”

“Can ya help me?” Sam waved a green folder in the air.

Sam had been taking over some of Bobby’s hunters. Researching and taking calls for them while Bobby took a bit of break.

“Sure. Lets have a look.”

Sam handed over the folder and Dean flicked through the pages.

“It’s a Vetala. Tell Lee to be careful, they hunt in pairs and their venom will knock you out cold.” Dean answered after a moment.

Sam looked at him in shock before smiling thankfully. “Dude, you’re a fucking genius at this.” He muttered before pulling out his phone to call Lee. “How do you kill them?”

“Same thing that kills most monsters. Silver knife to the heart.” Dean shrugged, returning to his job of putting the groceries away. “There’s a bit about them in John’s journal.”

Sam nodded and left Dean to his job. Soon the fridge was full and Dean was rubbing at his eyes tiredly.

“Do you want dinner?” he yelled out to Sam, hoping the answer was no.

“Nah, I ate before you got home.” Sam called back, making Dean sigh in relief.

Dean headed into the lounge room where Sam was busy on his laptop and ruffled his brother’s hair. “I’m off to bed. I have to be at work at seven tomorrow.”

“Night. I won’t be here when you wake up. I told Bobby I’d check something out in Kansas.” Sam said, looking at him with a smile.

Dean felt a twinge of jealously that Sam got to go on a hunt and he didn’t. Quilt swiftly followed and with a shake of his head he went upstairs to his bedroom. Locking the door behind him, he walked to the bathroom and pulled off his grease stain clothes, leaving them in a pile on the tiled floor. He’d deal with it later. He kicked his boxers off and grabbed a pair of dark green pajama pants, pulling them on before throwing himself face first on the bed. He’d changed the sheets that morning so they were crisp and clean. With a tired sigh he buried his head in his pillow as much as he could without suffocating himself.

He was just drifting off to sleep when a heavy weight settled on his lower back. He jerked awake but was quickly relaxed again when he recognized Crowley’s touch. A pair of hands began massaging his shoulder blades. The touch was strong, strong enough for it to almost be painful but it made his muscles melt.

“I’ve had a bitch of a day.” He wined, turning his face to one side so Crowley could hear him.

“You fix cars for a living. My job is literally Hell. How can you complain?”

Because I’m not a mechanic and pretending I’m not miserable everyday is killing me. “It’s just been a long day.” Is what he said instead. Besides, he wasn’t miserable all the time, just when Crowley wasn’t there to take the mind off the boredom. He loved Crowley, he really did and he wanted to be with him but he couldn’t deny who he was.




Dean was woken by a gentle shake to his shoulder and he forced himself to peek out from the warm cocoon he’d created in the bed. Crowley was stood over him fully dressed and Dean looked up at him in confusion. A quick glance at the alarm clock told him it was five-thirty in the morning.


“Get dressed and come downstairs.” Crowley answered with a tense smile.

“Why?” Dean asked, sitting up in the bed.

“Just get dressed and come downstairs.”

Crowley left the room and Dean blinked at the bedroom door. Frowning heavily he slipped out of bed and pulled on a clean pair of jeans and a shirt before grabbing a jacket from the closet. It was cold night and he was already shivering. He wasn’t sure what Crowley had planned so he also slipped on a pair of shoes before heading downstairs.

When he reached the lounge room Crowley was stood next to couch with two duffle bags at his feet.

“What’s going on?” Dean asked, not liking the way his heart jumped into his throat.

“I’m calling in your debt.” Crowley answered simply, confusing Dean even more.

“My debt?”

“Our first date, we made a deal. I’d answer your questions and you’d owe me something.”

“So what do you want?”

Dean was fighting his rising fear. Those were his duffle bags on the floor and he knew exactly what Crowley wanted.

“Sam is outside in the car. There’s a hunt in Kansas and I want you to go. Go with Sam.”

“You’re kicking me out.”

“No. if you can look me in the eyes and tell me honestly you don’t want to go, I won’t force you.” Crowley promised.

Dean opened his mouth but he couldn’t force the words out. He never could lie to Crowley and now was no different. So instead he said the only thing he could. “I love you.”

“I know. Wanting to leave doesn’t change that. You’re not happy here Dean. This isn’t who you are, you’re a hunter and you can’t change that any more than I can stop being a demon.”

“I chose you once, and I’ll always choose you.” Dean muttered, squaring his jaw and refusing to back down.

“This isn’t about choosing me Dean! You have me! You’ll have me whether you’re a mechanic, a hunter or a fucking mailman. I’m yours. This is about you thinking you have to be something else to be with me and you don’t!”

Dean was looking at the floor, trying to find the courage to take what Crowley was offering so he didn’t see Crowley move towards him until the demon was touching his face. Gentle but firm fingers lifted his chin until Dean’s watery eyes met Crowley’s.

“You need to go with your brother. Everything changed when Sam came back and we both know it.”

Dean knew Crowley was right, knew it was only a matter of time before the resentment of living a life he hated started to effect their relationship but letting go still hurt. He leaned forward and captured Crowley’s lips in a passionate kiss, wrapping a hand around the demon’s neck and pulling him as close as possible. Crowley groaned and sunk into the kiss, fisting his hand in Dean’s short hair. They pulled away when the need for air became too much and they stood, foreheads pressed together sharing breathless puffs of air.

“You had better come and see me.” Dean warned.

“Every chance I get. Promise.” Crowley chuckled breathlessly. “Get all this helping people out of your system because I’m gonna turn you into one hell of a demon.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Dean pulled away and picked up the duffle bags. If he didn’t leave now, he never would. Smiling softly he kissed Crowley on the cheek and left the lounge room before stepping out the front door. Sam was in the Impala, sitting in the passenger seat waiting for him. He slipped in the drivers seat and took the keys Sam offered him.

“You gonna be ok?”

“Of course. People to save, monsters to kill. The family business.”






Dean dies three years later.

He watched Sam dig up the grave, it was a freezing night and even with his thick jacket he was still shivering. The cemetery was old, they’d stopped burying people here years ago and Dean couldn’t help but wonder why the ghost had taken so long to bop up on their radar.

“You could help you know!” Sam yells up at him, sweat pouring off him.

Dean grinned down at him. “Sorry Sammy, you know the deal. I dug up the last one, your turn.”

“I fucking hate you.” Sam muttered, shoving the shovel angrily into the dirt.

Five minutes later there was a thump as Sam hit the coffin. Dean was about to jump down to help Sam life the lid when he was thrown backwards. He flew through the air and smashed into a tombstone. The force of the hit forced the air from his lungs and he was still struggling for air when the ghost appeared in front of him.

He pushed himself against the tombstone in a feeble attempt to get away. A hand forced its way into his stomach and he choked when blood filled his mouth, the ghost staring down at him. Her name was Meredith Wells and she’d killed her husband when she found out he’d been cheating on her with a man. Over the past two hundred years she’d killed over thirty gay men and although Dean was bisexual, he had feeling she wouldn’t be too concerned with technicalities, she was going to kill him all the same.

She twisted her hand and Dean screamed. He was in agony, the pain making his head spin and his vision blur. He dimly heard a something whoosh in the background and seconds later Meredith went up in flames, her hand still inside Dean. Sam had salted and burned her bones but it was too late. Half of Dean’s stomach was ripped out and blood was pooling around him. There was so much blood, impossible to see in the dark but Dean could feel it.

He could feel drenching his clothes and blood loss was making him dizzy. Sam appeared in front of him, and Dean was dimly aware Sam was yelling something. His brother knelt beside him and tried to get to stand up but he couldn’t even if he wanted to. He couldn’t feel his legs anymore.

“Come on Dean. The hospital’s twenty minutes away, get up.” Sam begged, tears building in he eyes and panic rolling off him.

Dean chuckled wetly, blood splattering his lips. “Sam we both know I’m not making it to a hospital.”

Sam closed his eyes but didn’t argue and slid down next to Dean. He stretched out his legs and wrapped an arm around Dean’s shoulders and pulling him close. Dean didn’t fight and leaned against Sam’s chest, each breath causing bone-shattering pain.

Sam was shaking against him and Dean knew his brother was fighting tears.

“Come on Sam, this isn’t the first time you’ve had to watch me die.” He pointed out softly, all the energy leaving him.

“Doesn’t get any easier though.” Sam choked out, holding him tighter.

“If it makes you feel any better, this is the first time I’m actually excited about what’s on the other side.”

“Crowley had better take damn good care of you.”

Dean didn’t answer, it was hard to keep track of his thoughts and his eyes kept closing, his vision dimming.

“Love you Sammy.” He whispered.

He was dying so he did something he’d never done before in his life. He stopped fighting.

“Love you big brother.”

That was the last thing Dean heard before he died.

He found himself standing at the back of a long line. He stuck his head out and raised his eyebrows when he saw the line went on for as far as he could see. There was a machine next to him and a sign above his telling him to take a ticket. He frowned at the dejected looking people and stepped out of line.

Nothing happened.

Demon guards didn’t step out the shadows, lightening didn’t strike him down and he wasn’t attacked in any way so he took another step. When it became clear that nothing bad was going to happen, Dean headed off down a passageway. He recognized the place as Hell but he had no idea exactly where he was or where he was supposed to find Crowley. Although this was Hell so he figured if he just wandered around long enough, he’d run into a demon sooner or later. He was right. It didn’t take long. A short, red haired man in a suit.

“Sean, right?” Dean guessed, vaguely remembering the man Crowley had once introduced him to.

“Winchester. What are you doing here?”

“I died.” Dean answered simply.

Sean nodded and looked a little awkward. Dean didn’t blame him. Most of Crowley’s demons were awkward around him, as much as they feared Crowley it was hard for them to ignore who Dean was.

“Right well, I’ll take you to the boss.” Sean murmured after a moment.

Dean nodded and followed the demon silently. He was thankful he’d run into Sean, they were turning down one corridor after another and he never would have found it by himself.

Sean paused at a door and nodded towards it. “He’s in there. He’s in a meeting though, I wouldn’t interrupt.”

Before Dean could answer, Sean had turned around and was walking away. Dean hesitated before knocking on the door. He waited for a moment but when he received no answer he pushed the door open. He entered a plain looking office with a large antique wooden desk against one wall. A large bookcase covered the wall behind the desk and the carpet was a deep mahogany colour. If Dean didn’t know any better he’d say he was in the office of an aging lawyer or politician. Crowley had his back turned to him and was talking to three demons.

“What have I told you morons about…” Crowley hissed turning around before catching sight of Dean. “Dean.”

“Hey.” Dean answered, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

They stared at each other silently for a moment and for a terrifying second Dean thought Crowley wasn’t happy to see him.

“Get out.” Crowley ordered the three demons.

They wasted no time in following Crowley’s orders, scurrying out of the room quickly.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Crowley lunged at him and kissed him passionately.

“God I’ve missed you.” Dean panted, pulling away and placing small kisses down Crowley’s neck.

“How did it happen?” Crowley asked.

“Ghost ripped a hole the size of a tennis ball in my stomach.” Dean answered, pushing Crowley’s jacket off and working on his shirt.

Crowley backed him up and pushed him through a door that hadn’t been there before into a bedroom. Dean looked at the welcoming bed and ached to have Crowley inside him.

“What about your meeting?” he asked, whining when Crowley latched his teeth onto his collarbone.

“Fuck ‘em. They can wait.” Crowley growled against his skin.

“I’d rather you fuck me.”

Crowley looked up at him with a smirk. “It’d be my pleasure darling.”

Dean stretched languidly across the silk bed sheets, the feel of it wonderful on his naked skin. Crowley was stretched out next to him and Dean rolled onto his stomach, arching his back into the air before flopping down. Crowley smiled and ran a hand along Dean’s spine, basking in the peaceful moment.

“So what happens now?”

“That’s up to you.” Crowley shrugged. “I meant what I said, I want you to rule by my side. Raphael was right about one thing; together we’d be unbeatable. However if you’re uncomfortable with committing certain….acts, Hell is whatever I make it. I can give you anything you want. Any way you want it..”

Dean rolled on his back and cupped Crowley’s face, pulling him closer. “I chose you, I chose this life. I will rule by your side and no one will stand in our way.”

Crowley smiled wildly and kissed Dean’s chest above his tattoo. “You’re finally mine and no one, not angels or demons or God himself is going to take you away.” He whispered possessively in Dean’s ear, causing him to shiver.

“You know this is closer to a happy ending than I ever thought I’d get.” Dean admitted softly, carding his fingers through the demon’s hair.

“Darling, this is just the beginning.”




Well there it is. This story has turned out better than I ever could have hoped and went on far longer than I’d planned. I hope it was the ending you wanted and if not, I hope it wasn’t too bad. Thank you so much to every one of you who supported me through the writing of this story. All your kind words and encouragement has meant so much to me.