Title: Addiction

Author: Fenikkusu Ai

Rating: T

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Alastair/Dean

Characters: Dean Winchester, Alastair

Words: 356

Genre: Angst

Summary: Alastair and Dean have artistic differences. Demon Dean AU.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or "Poison" by Alice Cooper.

Alastair watched as Dean enticingly spread out on the bed. He always got too lazy when they went topside. By his side was the radio; an ever present companion. Alastair was starting to feel ignored. Not to mention jealous. Very, very jealous. He preferred it when Dean only had eyes and ears for him.

"That music is too damned loud. Please turn it down," Alastair instructed calmly.

The thumping bass spilled out of the speakers. Dean didn't respond to him. Perhaps he couldn't even hear him.

At first, his boy's antics were amusing. Almost...human. Now, they were just getting to be annoying. Apparently, it seemed that loud music could be a torture all of its own. It was a technique that begged to be explored. But, right now, Alastair was starting to run out of patience. Purposefully, he strode over and switched the device off.

There. The ensuing silence was so much better.

Dean's-his Dean's-eyes flashed pure black.

"I was listening to that!" the young demon snarled.

With the dexterity of a predator, Dean reached over and Alastair was suddenly aware of a sharp pain; he looked down to see a familiar knife in his thigh. Dean had stabbed him.

Alastair shook his head. His boy was still a rebellious brat, and he adored it.

"What am I to do with you?" he clucked his tongue as he drew out the blade. "I think that I will have to introduce you to the classics eventually. Mozart, Bach, Beethoven..."

The rock music resumed. Alastair watched Dean lay back down. The boy was now staring off into space as if trying to remember something.

Alastair gleefully took the opportunity to bend down and nibble his earlobe; stretching out with his protégé on the mattress as he did so. In reply, Dean's lips found his neck; Alastair could feel the edge of his teeth. As much as he detested it, rock music always got Dean's blood pumping.

Oh, well. There would always be another day to get back on the job. The radio continued to blare over their hisses and deep groans.

"I don't want to break these chains..."