Supernatural - Crowley/Castiel - Boss-Man
title. Boss Man
fandom. Supernatural
pairing. Crowley/Castiel
rating. Hard R for sex and language and stuff
summary. Crowley and Castiel (accidentally) meet, have a few drinks and talk about how much it sucks to be King of Hell/Sheriff of Heaven.
author's note. For the drunk sex prompt at spn_kinkmeme
Boss-Man
Crowley was sick of it all. The whole crossroads demon, let's-end-the-world, apocalypse bullshit. Being the King of Hell wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Sure, he enjoyed making deals (he certainly didn't mind the whole "sealing them" thing.) It just seemed so drawn out and Crowley quite enjoyed the scotch and screwing that humanity provided. They really knew how to cater to a man's interests.
Besides, he didn't need the deals to get a snog. "I'm the King of Hell," was a great pick-up line.
Meanwhile, boss-man decides "hey, let's throw a fit because daddy didn't give me what I want."
It was the end of the world and he didn't even know what to expect himself. All the biblical bull was going to be a piece of crap at this rate as Lucifer shit on it.
That's Lucifer for you, though, self-centered bastard he is.
The drink slid across the counter and Crowley didn't even take a breath before picking it up and guzzling it down like a shot.
"Happy hour's in about ten minutes," the bartender - a cute brunette with a petite little ass - told him. He decided to wait to start ordering shots until it got cheap. 'Happy Hour' was the perfect term being as it left Crowley feeling ever spectacular.
---
Ten minutes later, who strolls in but Castiel in his Jimmy Novak meatsuit. Crowley rolls his eyes. This was going to be a long night.
"Well, well, well, Mr. Angel of the Lord, what brings you to a den of iniquity such as this?"
Castiel coughed. "Uh..."
Crowley smirked. He had no response. It was of no matter. Getting the angel drunk could prove to be interesting. Although, he wasn't going to be a great conversationalist until he had a couple drinks in him.
"Order one for the boy over there and I'll take one myself."
The bartender asked him what he wanted.
"Surprise me."
She just smiles and pulls a couple bottles out from under the counter and mixes them together like a pro before walking towards the other end of the bar where the cat-calls and whooping of the drunk men was becoming something of an annoyance. She probably enjoyed the attention, however.
"Women," he mumbled to himself. Apparently not quietly enough, however, because Castiel heard him.
"What about them? They are marvelous creatures."
Crowley snickered. Of course, the angel would take it in a literal sense. Proud of daddy for making them.
"Oh nothing."
There was a silence for a moment, but Crowley never left tension in the air.
"So how's heaven, Sheriff?" he did a mock salute.
"Probably not much better than hell," Castiel sighed.
Oooooh. A confession from the angel. Maybe liquor didn't even matter.
"Oh hell's a blast!" Crowley joked. "All the scum of the earth compiled in one place shitting and pissing while I clean it up."
"Oh," Castiel said simply. He didn't even remember what Heaven was like after rebelling.
Crowley noticed the change in the Angel's demeanor and held his glass up.
"To the human race being superior to our bosses!"
Castiel just stared from him to the shot and back again.
"You're supposed to raise your glass, love," Crowley whispered.
The angel held it directly above where he had held it before. Crowley rolled his eyes and clinked the glasses together.
"What do I do now?"
"Drink it," Crowley said simply before lifting the glass to his lips watching as Castiel did the same.
Castiel calculated Crowley's gaze. Why was he suddenly so friendly? Then again, the demon prided himself on being quite the charmer whether drinking with heavenly hosts or demonic slaves.
Castiel slowly drained the shot before hearing Crowley order another. And another.
"You see, boss-man here, pardon - Lucifer - as you all refer to him. Your light bringer and such and such now in the most lit up place in the world. Pardon, whatever beyond the earth is. Anyway, he calls out to me. He says "Crowley, you rule hell while I'm gone." Well, not those exact words, but you catch my meaning. Anyway. so then he just leaves and doesn't say another word."
Castiel cocked his head to the side, eyes wide and bloodshot. Obviously a lightweight, he had been listening intently from after the first drink.
"Yes, God just disappears too," Castiel slurs. "He told me to go rescue Dean..."
"And you didn't even get a 'thank you,'" Crowley finished. "It's a thankless job."
"Amen," Cas agreed.
Crowley licked his lips as he stared into the angel's blue eyes, took note of the contours of his face, the sharp line of his jaw. He shook his head. He'd obviously had too much to drink.
Next thing he knows, he's got his rough hands cradling Castiel's face and Castiel isn't stopping him, but he's thinking "Uh...what?"
Soon, Cas is pinned against the bar counter.
The bartender would tell them to "get a room," but it's been a long night and she could use some entertainment. Sure, public sex was frowned upon, but who was she to stop a couple lovers.
Crowley pushes his crotch up against Castiel's and the angel is taken aback by how pleasurable he finds it.
Then comes another sloppy kiss, breath reeking (and tasting) of alcohol, and Crowley's hand slides up under Castiel's shirt which is a feat in itself considering the coat, but Crowley likes to think he's an expert on this kind of thing.
Castiel just leans back, enjoying the sensation of being rubbed and kissed and he forgets that it's ungodly because he's so fucking drunk and he loves this.
Soon, Crowley begins to unbutton and unzip his trousers, prodding Castiel to do the same. He bends the angel over the counter (usually, he would do this in the lap, but the Angel wouldn't know what to do) and slips two fingers in, not waiting, in a rush. He's too turned on to think about what Castiel wants and Cas doesn't mind this at all. He's thoroughly enjoying it, whatever it is.
"You ready for this, love?" Crowley whispers in the angel's ear and he shudders, waiting for it. Cas simply nods.
Crowley thrust in with so much force that you'd think he had a good shag in a while (he hadn't). At first, it hurt like hell (no pun intended), then it got better. Much better. He slid in and out, in and out, keeping a steady rhythm while Cas moaned, despite himself.
By now, they had a crowd of spectators urging them on.
Cas shut his eyes as he came close, Crowley breathing heavily himself. One more thrust and Cas was frickin gone. Hearing the angel moan got Crowley off and he came inside soon after.
He pulled out and they just looked at each other for a brief moment.
After the two men realized what they had just done, Crowley straightens his coat, pulls up his trousers, and leaves with a "Well that was fun. Let's do this again sometime."