Kings of Hell • Crowley x Dean • Castiel x Dean •

• chapter one •

"Are you listening to me? You need to kill now. It's been weeks. What are you playing at?"

Dean tried to zone Crowley out, keeping his mouth shut, and his hazel-green eyes fixed on the pages of the latest issue of Busty Asian Beauties. The more it looked like he didn't care, the better.

"Come on Dean, how about our deal, huh?"

The two men were sat at a hotel bar. They had made hotel hopping a routine thing in their new lives. After all, they couldn't risk staying in one place for long.

A couple months ago, Dean had unwillingly become a demon. The Mark of Cain stained his arm. Before he became one with it, he had worked tirelessly at removing it. It was originally a way to seal the Darkness, but lived on to be a horrible curse. Providing him with immortality and unimaginable strengths. However, he had to reside in becoming a killer in order to survive. A murderer. A monster that he would have once hunted down and sent to hell.
Maybe it was because he was a demon now, but Dean didn't care. He enjoyed his new self.

Closing the magazine and setting it down next to his empty shot glass, Dean turned to face Crowley.

"There was no deal, I told you. I was drunk when you talked me into it."

"Ah ah," Crowley shook his head, "A deal's a deal. Can't you just picture it, Dean? You and I. Ruling hell. Together? An iconic duo."

The truth was, Dean could picture it. He could shut his eyes, hold his breath, and imagine a world where he could be free to do anything he wanted. Kill anyone he desired. And he couldn't imagine anyone better by his side than Crowley.

In his old life, Dean had a boyfriend. Castiel. An angel. Since becoming a demon, he had distanced himself from him. At first, Dean missed him. The quirky comments he used to make. But now, Dean felt nothing. They were all distant memories. He was certain Cas was still searching for him. It's why he and Crowley had been moving so often.

This new darkness Dean had, changed him. A good change, he thought. He wasn't going to let it go. Even though he pissed Dean off sometimes, he found Crowley's aggressiveness alluring. His old self would have been frightened if he'd blossomed feelings for the King of Hell, but it'd happened so fast in the past couple months that Dean pushed it aside.

"I don't like you when you're sober, you're more fun when you're drunk," Crowley whispered in my ear, then called over the bartender, "two more shots for my friend here, and a fancy drink with a tiny umbrella for me."

Dean smirked, "Oh please. You just want to have me in bed with you again."

Crowley didn't deny it, his left hand moved to Dean's leg "Ah, you can't tell me you didn't like it last time."