No Event | BYOA

[iustiviri]

Being here long enough one learns the ins and outs of how this weird, fucked up place works. The people it brings in and the people it takes away just as keenly, as if they were never here in the first place. Just like hearing about Sam being in this place yet he'd never run into him. Ran into all sorts of people in a large place like this, and

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[soulkink]

Crowley presses in so that their chests brush at that accusation about being all talk. He wants Dean to feel him; he's not so sweet he needs to hear him say it, but he lets him feel it, makes it slow, gives him chances to pull away. Because those are damning. He lets his hand slide down and settle on his hips, linger a moment watching Dean, who seems to have chosen between desire and doubt, and Crowley very much agrees with his selection. He looks at the hunter, his bright almlet amber hues on green as he sinks down to his knees in front of him. He's as careful as he can be with his slacks- who knows when he'll find another good suit- but for the moment the prospect of Dean's cock is far more enchanting. The demon noses in against Dean's denims, dragging his cheek against the press of his erection and he murmurs quietly

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And Crowley kisses him at those words, a mark on their souls that is unfortunately far more binding to demons than it is to humans. Thankfully, the concept of good behavior is woefully up for abuse, if Crowley was so inclined. As it is, he actually isn't. Is actually more than willing to be on good behavior if it means they do that again.

His powers weren't gone, but they were unfortunately muted. Things that should have been easy and simple, like a standard deal for ten years and an eternity in Hell, somehow beyond his reach. That rankled, chafed, but it wasn't exactly something he intended to admit to Dean Winchester. Not this one, anyway.

"Sealed nice and proper, hmm?"

He liked his lips, a flutter of his lashes. Maybe not his Dean, but he could definitely adjust to this one, he thought.

[iustiviri]

Without meaning to, Dean groans into the kiss, hands coming up to fist in his expensive suit jacket to pull him closer and chasing the kiss when the demon pulled away, jerking back some when he realized what he'd been doing. He licks at his lips and steps back, glancing down to that mouth that'd been on his dick no more than ten minutes ago, able to taste himself on his tongue now due to the kiss.

He moves away from the wall, slides back from the demon to stand in the middle of the hall. "Right," he says for lack of a decent comeback, still reeling, "Well, don't suppose your demonic spider sense can pick up a way out of this joint, huh?" Dean asks, despite having been through at least half the hotel in the time he's been here and yet hasn't found a way out.

[soulkink]

"Unfortunately, no. This place seems to prefer that I'm just as lost as the rest of you dolts. Evens the odds, I suppose."

Crowley wants to kiss Dean again, wants to shove him back against that wall again and strip him down and touch his body. Get Dean to touch his, find out how good it feels when they fit together in other ways. He smiles and lets those thoughts go.. for now. Really, Crowley isn't a cheap date; if they're going to go further than blowjobs against the wall, they should really get a room.

How convenient that they're in a hotel.

"You know, you should show me where your room is, Winchester. Knowing you, I'm sure I'll end up having to show up and save you from your own idiocy at some point."

If you can't guess what he's really saying here, Dean, Crowley is going to be very disappointed in you.

[iustiviri]

It takes him a moment to get the gist of what Crowley is saying his eyes simultaneously widen and darken, tongue sweeping out to lick at his lips as he nods. "Yeah, good idea," he says, then walks off, doesn't wait to see if Crowley follows him. He heads to the staircase and pushes open the door, then heads up the stairs two at a time, moving past the first landing and then up the second flight of stairs. His room is only two floors up from where he was when Crowley found him.

He pushes open the door and moves into the hallway, looking both ways before turning right and heading down the hall. There's markings in red on the door that's his and he pulls a swiss out, flicks it open to scratch away at one of the simples breaking it. Then he tucks the knife away opens the door, motioning for the demon to follow him as he heads inside. It's not much, looks ten time better than what Crowley's likely seen them in previously. It even has a working kitchenette.

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Crowley follows him, of course. Hardly half a step behind, a flutter of his eyelashes, because he's eager, wants to be alone in Dean's hotel room. Crowley's half-expecting some garish recreation of a shitty Motel 7, done just for him. Instead, the place is actually half-decent. Tolerable, even if it's not quite up to Crowley's exacting standards.

"I'm impressed, Winchester. Didn't think you could survive living someplace with half a modicum of tasteHe's teasing, a playful smile curving his lips, a dark glint of desire in his eyes. He eyes the kitchenette and smiles. Crowley does have a soft spot for baking, something he hasn't had the luxury of indulging given the Apocalypse looming over his head these past months. And Dean does have a ridiculous fixation on pie... Maybe he'll bake him something -- skipping the sort of delicacies that demons and monsters prefer, of course, the man is so sensitive about such things

[iustiviri]

Dean just rolls his eyes at the snarky response as he moves into the small kitchen to grab himself a glass from the cabinet -- then on an afterthought he grabs another and pulls down a bottle of whiskey from another. Top grade whiskey as apparently this place has nothing but the best for it's customers -- prisoners, really -- but he's not complaining. He pours a glass for Crowley and sets it aside, then pours himself one too

[soulkink]

Crowley takes a drink of the whiskey, entirely expecting to be able to use his usually quip about the Winchesters and cheap liquor, but instead he settles for taking a longer sip. It's not a good scotch by any means, but as far as whiskey goes, it's actually palatable. Crowley blames tht on the hotel more than he does on Dean's evolving tastes. He catches that look and grins, tossing his tie down on the bed with his suit jacket

[iustiviri]

"That so? Well, least they have something here that suits your taste. There's clothes in the dresser." Not that he was terribly in a rush to watch the man dress up again. As each article of clothing was dropped his gaze darkens further, and he gulps down the rest of his drink before making another. He knows it was wrong to want someone like Crowley, a frigging demon, a hell spawn. But goddamn, why were they so attractive then?

Well, it wasn't like the demon could hurt him or anything, they'd made a deal. He licks his lips at the memory of it, eyes tracking the way Crowley's hands move, deadly, slender hands, fingers that pop buttons of his pants and Dean damn near groans as he remembers Crowley coming hard in them, the pleasure that washed over the man's face when he did, just moments after having his dick in his mouth.

It's a good thing he's behind the counter in the small kitchen or it would be quite embarrassing for anyone to see how hard he is now.

[soulkink]

Crowley strips down with an utter and absolute lack of modesty. He strips each piece of his outfit from his body, adds it to the neat pile at the end of the bed. He does it slowly, but casually, half a striptease, even as he makes it seem accidental. He wants Dean to want him, wants to snap the man's restraint somewhere through getting dressed, wants Dean's hand taking off borrowed clothes that Crowley was going to carefully put on, protest with something about how he was getting them wrinkled, even though they'd both know he didn't mean it. This was a whole new game, one his Dean had never quite picked up on

[iustiviri]

Dean swallows, almost chokes on the liquor, his eyes water as it burns and he could discreetly but his gaze never wavers, keeps watching. His eyes flicker over every inch of naked skin as it's revealed and as he watches Crowley walk to the door he's already so fucking hard in his jeans that he has to reach down and palm himself to take the painful edge off and almost groans with the pleasure rolling up his spine.

His brows raise at the sight of the corset and he shrugs in a 'totally not mine' way, then rolls his eyes at the question. "No into wearin it, at least," he says, eyeing the outfit and then Crowley. He'd much rather ripping it off with his teeth than wearing. And god, the thought of Crowley in an outfit like that made his cock throb. He sets the glass down a little harder than he intended to as he eyes the outfit again, liking the color, thinking it would look good on him and off of him on the floor, too.

"You gonna put that on and show it off for me?"

[soulkink]

Crowley has no shame. His eyebrows quirk at that question and he glances down at the corset, and then up at Dean and he smiles. He's aware of how hot, how on edge the man is, those subtle tells that Crowley's been paying attention to. And his eyes glitter, bright with desire, more than willing to dress up for Dean if it will get the hunter out from behind the counter and over here sjoining him in decadent delights

[iustiviri]

His gaze darkens slightly at the question and he swallows the lump in his throat and after adjusting his jeans -- though he knows there'd be no hiding just how achingly hard he is -- he movs out from behind the counter in the kitchen and makes his way over to the demon. His cock throbs at the sight of Crowley in those black lace panties that hides practically nothing, his hard cock tenting the panties obscenely, hiding nothing at all really now that he looks -- really looks

[soulkink]

Crowley likes this, likes this a lot. He likes the way that Dean's jeans are tented as he comes around the counter, he likes the way that the hunter looks at him- hot and hungry- and he likes how he can see the lust in those dark green eyes. And Dean circles around behind him, and he startes tightening the laces, caging Crowley's chest in satin. He laces it tight, but not unpleasantly so; it makes his waist seem to dip in more, gives his hips the illusion of being larger. It makes his silhouette a little feminine, but is certainly not that dreamed-of Victorian hourglass or any nonsense. He can still breathe, which is the important part. Not entirely necessary for a demon, but certainly unpleasant for one locked into his meatsuit like Crowley is

[iustiviri]

"Dunno," he murmurs quietly. "Never had anyone in one before." Even as he says this his fingers tighten over the demon's hips as he rocks forward into him, and he wants this, perhaps not so suddenly, and thinks about sinking deep into Crowley's body, just like this, corset and all. He swallows at the thought and bites back a groan.

"Seems like you enjoy it quite a bit too, huh?" Dean asks as he snakes his arm around the man's waist and slips his fingers down over his cock, jutting outward and barely restrained by the satin panties. He teases his fingers over the wet tip, rubbing his finger over the head through the satin fabric, even as he presses harder against Crowley's ass.

"Bet you get off on it, don't you? Lookit how hard you are -- or are you hard for another reason?"

[soulkink]

Crowley gasps, pushing back into it as Dean's fingers tighten at his hips and rock forward against his body. He wants Dean to fuck him. And he never would have thought it, but he rather wants him to fuck him like this, in the corset, panties pushed down or hiked to the side, on his knees with Dean between his thighs... And fuck but that thought is so hot he has to stiffle a moan