This Ain't No Bromance
A SuperWho fanfiction, about Captain Jack Harkness and Crowley
Everyone has their secrets. Their biggest embarrassing moment. Crowley, King of Hell, kept his under lock and key and hell hound. No one knew. No one but Crowley and that bastard.
Crowley remembered that crossroads deal all too well. It was another day at the office, and as the boss, Crowley was getting bored of sitting at his desk, listening to the success stories of arrogant, kindergarten demons. He answered the next call.
The crossroads he was summoned to was somewhere in England, Crowley didn't really pay attention to the location then. The guy who had summoned him, god was he a dick. Handsome features, late twenties at Crowley's guess, expensive looking trench coat, smug look on his face. Crowley bet his bones that he never lost that smug look. Probably never lost his flirty ways either. Crowley still remembers the first thing his client, boldly said to him. "Hell-o. Captain Jack Harkness- I hope you're a demon."
Crowley remained cool and calm throughout the entire deal. If Crowley really knew who Captain Jack Harkness was back then, he'd rip his balls off and probably use him as a meatsuit for baby demons.
But Crowley didn't know who Captain Jack Harkness was, not until he arrived in hell ten years later after making that deal. The smug look on his face and flirtatious comments remained, Crowley was the first to greet him but that's when he realised.
Captain Jack Harkness had screwed him hard in the backside.
"I'll only be here for an hour." He'd said. "Then I'll be back on the earth, doing what I do best."
Of course, Crowley thought he was talking bullshit at first, but then an hour later, Harkness was gone.
Crowley had sent the word out to all demons he knew, telling them to keep an eye out. That's when he got the interesting news.
Captain Jack Harkness can't die.
This was the part when Crowley set fire to his office. That was the first time someone- some dickbag- had screwed Crowley, and it would never happen again.
Crowley knew that killing Harkness again would solve nothing. He'd only be breathing again, a few hours later. So, Crowley stayed away but made a vow: if Harkness were to cross him again, his cards would say torture.
But for years and decades, Harkness never did cross Crowley again.
Well, not until sometime in 2008.
Crowley heard the call and went to the crossroad, middle of nowhere, like he'd expected. Typically bastards can never pick any place exotic, can they?
That's when he heard that arrogant voice.
"I thought that the point of a crossroads deal was that you get the better half." His lips were curled into an amused smirk as he slowly walked up to Crowley. "You didn't have me in hell very long did you?"
Crowley smiled softly. "You still have a room there, if you ever want back in."
Jack chucked. "No thanks big boy. Speaking of hell, how is the old place?"
Well, he might as well tell him.
"I'm the king of it now."
Jack just laughed, loudly and clearly amused by what Crowley had just said. Crowley took in Jack's appearance for the first time that night.
Nothing had changed. He still had his handsome features, late twenties, expensive looking trench coat (much nicer than Castiel's in Crowley's opinion). While Jack continued laughing, Crowley came to a swift conclusion.
"Have you been drinking?"
Jack's flirtatious eyes, blinked up at Crowley. "I'm always drinking."
Crowley was getting bored. He had better things to do, then have a sleepover with this dick all night.
"What d'you want, pretty boy?" Wrong choice of words.
"'Pretty boy' huh?" winked Jack.
Crowley let out a sigh which gave Jack the signal that Crowley was getting pissed. That's when Jack gave him a serious answer.
"I want information."
Was he having a laugh?
"Really?" Crowley was amused and bored all together.
"Yup."
"Why would I do you a favour?"
"Because I will return it."
Jack's answer was clear and true but Crowley didn't believe it.
"Can I leave now?" Crowley's sarcastic comment caused Jack to chuckle again.
"I'm working a case, looking for some dashing young man," Jack spoke confidently, just like Crowley had always remembered. "goes by the name of Castiel."
Crowley's attention picked up at that. The pretty angel face stamped into his mind. He turned to Jack, with his trademark cool printed across his face. "Then give me the juicy details."