(Yes, I hear the innuendo. It was an accident, but you know what? It makes me giggle so I’m leaving it.)
Pairing: Crowley/Dean
Words: 1290
Rating: Mature
Tags: Angst, Crowley King of Hell, Demon!Dean, Sexual Content (but not really explicit)
Summary: Crowley confronts Dean. Dean pushes back, Crowley tries to put him in his place. Things escalate.
(Can be read independently, but belongs to my A Howl at That Moon Crowley/Demon!Dean ficlet series)Â
“Out.” Crowley snarled at the crowd of gaping demons that surrounded them.
They scattered from the throne room
He stood and strode across the room to Dean. “You do realize - even your moronic brain must - that the only reason every demon in Hell isn’t trying to kill you is me, and I only have that power for so long as they don’t get it in their god-forsaken heads that they can buck against me!”
Dean looked way too pleased with himself, far too satisfied with the way he had burrowed under Crowley’s skin. As Crowley stood fuming, Dean circled him slowly. “They shouldn’t buck against you. It’d be stupid.” He sat, draping himself across the throne and hanging one leg over the arm of it, grinning at Crowley. “But I am not them, and I don’t give a fuck.”
Crowley pursed his lips together. “You’re in…my chair,” he said with way more calm than he felt.
Dean smirked up at him. “Oh yeah?” He sat up and leaned forward. “Whatcha gonna do about it?”
Crowley saw red. He snapped his fingers, and they were no longer in the throne room but in some unoccupied beach villa - a summer home for people who had more money than they knew what to do with. They had good taste though, so Crowley came here sometimes to get away.
Dean landed in a heap with a satisfying thump.
Dean looked up, agitated. Good. It was nice to get under Dean’s skin for once. “Crowley, what the hell?” he sputtered.
Crowley sneered at him. “You were in my chair.” He watched as Dean stood. “Also, I figured I’d get us a bit of privacy where we can talk, because you seem to have forgotten where it is you stand in this relationship.” Crowley was seething but managed to control it.
Dean paced towards him. “Where I stand?”
“Don’t go toe-to-toe with me, squirrel. You don’t have what it takes.”
Dean shoved him against the wall and pressed against him, hand around his throat. His voice came out a growl. “Prove it.”
Crowley slipped from Dean’s grasp and appeared behind him. Who did this…this…child think he was?!
Dean spun around wide-eyed.
“King,” Crowley sneered. “I don’t care if you’re Dean Fucking Winchester. I don’t care that you’re a demon now. I don’t care if you bear the Mark of Cain.” He stepped forward, into Dean’s space, his voice growing louder. “I don’t care if you’re a bloody Knight of Hell! I am the KING!” He blasted Dean against the wall. He’d been patient. Hell, he probably should have killed Dean ages ago…but the bloody pest would have just come back anyway.
