The Gate Keeper and His Soul - Dean/Crowley - R
Title: The Gate's Keeper and His Soul
Author: youaredriving aka Scarletsptember
Fandom/Pairing: SPN - Dean/Crowley
Rating: R
Words: 432
Summary: Even though Crowley's a demon, Dean should hate him. But Dean doesn't, he just can't seem to bother.
Crowley, the self declared King of the Crossroads. Dean couldn’t have hated the bastard more for just what he was. He was a demon who dealt years for souls. A demon who gave out prison sentences to Hell and he did it all with a wide smile and a kiss.
How they got to this point, when they got past hate and here? Dean wasn’t sure, it wasn’t supposed to be possible. They were supposed to be bitter enemies to the end. Dean was the one who got out and Crowley was the gate’s keeper. It was the natural order of things.
Maybe it was somewhere between Crowley crossing over to the light side, working with them or perhaps it was that twisted sense of humor and that laugh Crowley had. Whenever Crowley was in a room everything narrowed down to him and Dean’s heart stuttered in his chest for just a second before going back to normal.
What Dean was sure of at the moment was the fact that Crowley’s mouth felt good everywhere, even while he was down pushed and crowded tight against the back of a chair. Crowley knew where to kiss, bite, and soothe. He knew when to tear at their clothes and when to hand the reigns over; rarely.
Calloused hands gripping tight at his spiked hair, a grip tight enough Dean went limp against the grip and he felt Crowley marking him. Biting and bruising so everyone knew Dean was Crowley’s.
“You are mine.” Crowley spoke low and harsh against Dean’s swollen lips. Lust blown eyes met Crowley’s eyes and Dean’s swallowed down the rest of Crowley’s words in a wet kiss. His thumbs brushed down along Crowley’s sides. They pressed along the top of the demon’s slacks as Dean moved in to loosen the belt buckle against the roll and hitch of Crowley’s hips against his.
“Maybe,” Dean tore his mouth away from Crowley’s and the feral growl that left the demon’s lips, the fervor and bite of the next kisses were enough that Dean wanted out of the chair. He needed to move, to taste, and to take control.
The move was less than fluid and they grappled until Dean ended up straddling Crowley, holding Crowley’s arms to the floor above his head. Dean rolled his hips against Crowley’s and watched the way Crowley tilted his head to the side. Exposing a long line of neck and Dean let go of Crowley’s hands, resting his elbows on either side of the demon’s face as he leaned in a left a mark of his own.