Dean Winchester… as much as Crowley tried to convince himself that he only saw him as a hunter, a potential threat, he knew that that wasn't true. That week spent with him had been one of the best weeks of his life, and with all of the stress that he was under now, he yearned for another week like that. Unfortunately, the main source of his stress was that the very guy he yearned for was trying to close the gates of Hell and lock him, and all of his demons, inside. He knew that he had to stop him, and he couldn't put it off any longer.
He had gone through several potential solutions in his head. Sam was the one doing the trials, he could just kill him. But he knew Dean well enough to know that he wouldn't let him walk away after that. So was there a way to stop them without killing them? And did he have enough time? Could he risk trying and failing?
Eventually he realized that there was no other option. He had to kill them both. And he had to kill Dean first, because if he saw him kill his brother, he would retaliate. And Crowley wasn't sure if he could actually face Dean when he killed him.
So that night he found the hotel where the boys were staying at. Sam was out at the moment, but Dean was in bed, asleep.
"For what it's worth, Dean," Crowley breathed, looking down at him as he squirmed a bit in his sleep. "I don't want to do this."
He was just going to snap his neck – a quick death – but he hesitated, just like he had promised himself he wouldn't do. His eyes roamed over his body, studying his face. At least it seemed like he was having a good dream.
Almost as soon as he had the thought, Dean gave a low moan, his hips bucking slightly.
Crowley raised his eyebrows. A very good dream then. He wondered who he was dreaming about, and was mad at himself for feeling a bit jealous. What did it matter? Why was he jealous over a guy he was about to kill?
Dean moaned again and Crowley shifted slightly as he felt his cock start to harden. Oh, this definitely was not good. If he didn't kill him soon…
"Crowley…" Dean breathed.
Crowley froze, his eyes widening. Him, he was dreaming about him. Dammit…. He stroked his hand absent-mindedly over the front of his pants as he continued to watch Dean, thoughts of killing him vanishing altogether.
"More…"
Crowley took a couple of steps back, sinking down onto the chair behind him. Not taking his eyes off of Dean, he unfastened his pants and slid his hand inside. He wrapped his hand around his cock and began pumping slowly, letting the rate of Dean's breaths, the frequency of his moans, dictate his speed.
He wished he could be on top of him right now, making him moan louder than a dream ever could. He imagined what he would do to him, allowing his mind to go places he hadn't allowed it to go in some time.
His moans were mixing with Dean's now as he could feel his climax approaching. He wanted to go back over to him, to come on him and let him wonder about that when he woke up. He wondered what he would make of that.
Before he could get up, though, he saw headlights and heard a car pulling up outside. Leave it to Sam to ruin all his fun.
He immediately materialized in his own bed, coming with a groan before collapsing back against the pillows. The image of Dean having a sex dream about him was still implanted in his mind, and he wanted more.
Onto plan B, then….
