Author's Note: This was the 7th, and final offering I made for the "All I Want for Christmas is Drowley"exchange on tumblr. This one takes place in a post-S12 AU world where Crowley is brought back to life, but is still a demon. He's helped the boys close the gates of hell, and is working with them (albeit a little reluctantly) with this scene taking place immediately following a hunt that went a bit sideways. The fic itself doesn't follow a prompt or related to the season at all, but *shrugs* Happy Christmas all the same!

"Damn it, Crowley! Why you gotta be such a jackass?" Dean growls, frustration at his companion bleeding through every word as he tosses their gear into the Impala's trunk.

Crowley lifts both eyebrows, before gesturing towards the center of his chest, and saying with clear and slow annunciation. "Demon."

Dean shakes his head, "Nah, that excuse doesn't fly anymore, Peaches."

"And why ever not?"

Dean slams the trunk lid shut, shaking the whole car in the process, then turning to face Crowley. "Because we both know better! Sure your moral compass is facing due south, but following the damn thing is your choice."

Crowley sneers. "Oh, that easy is it?"

"Nah." Dean shakes his head. "It ain't. Hell knows I know it ain't. But we also both know that you don't have to follow it if you don't want to."

"Who says I don't want to?"

Dean levels an intense look at Crowley, taking two long strides to close the distance between them, until they're sharing the same breathing space. "Me. You wanna pull some weird-ass macho crap with Sam and Cas and everyone else, making pretend that you keep tagging along with us because you're bored and not because you give a shit about anything. Fine." Dean nods his head, offering Crowley a half-shrug and a smirk. "But you're not fooling me. I know you, Crowley. And I know why you've stuck around, and it ain't just because the gates of hell are closed and you're out of a job."

"Do you now?" Crowley's too well controlled to allow his voice to tremble, but the amount of effort that it takes for him to avoid doing just that is considerable.

"Yeah. Yeah I do." Dean holds Crowley's gaze for several long, drawn out seconds. Crowley digs his nails into the palm of his hand to avoid looking away. "Just like I know what it is you want. What it is you're hoping is gonna happen. With us." Dean's eyes drop to Crowley's mouth for a split second, almost so quick that if Crowley's whole world wasn't currently narrowed down to the other man's face, he'd have missed it.

"And, cards on the table? I want it too." The breath gets caught in Crowley's throat at Dean's impossible to believe statement. But the look on Dean's face is more open and honest, and yeah maybe just a little bit pained, than any Crowley's ever seen before. Crowley's heart is somewhere in the vicinity of his throat when Dean continues.

"But it's not gonna happen - it can't happen, Crowley - if you don't try harder to avoid following your factory-default evil settings."

Fear and rage and frustration boil up and explode out of Crowley at that damning sentence. "I've been trying! How the bloody hell do you think I've been managing all this time? Running around with you lot? Ignoring my gut instincts to maim and torture first, ask forgiveness never? I've got a constant bloody mantra running through my noggin' of 'What Would Dean Winchester Bloody Do?!' just so I have half a bloody chance of not messing it all up! So excuse me, if every now and again I forget to focus on the idiot of the week and instead prioritize saving yours and my hides from a painful and gruesome death!"

"Crowley…" Dean sighs, reaching up to scrub a hand at the back of his neck and looking away for the first time since the conversation began. "Look, I get it. But saving people is what we do. And if you… you need to be on board with that or this… it's never gonna work."

"And what, you're not one of those people I'm supposed to be saving?"

Dean shakes his head. "That's not - they gotta come first. I can take care of myself."

Crowley barks out a bitter laugh. "Your track record on that front isn't stellar, darling. You've died how many times now?"

"And I'm still here."

"Forgive me if I don't find that reassuring."

Dean heaves out a breath, the warmth of it ghosting against Crowley's face. "Just… can you promise me you'll try?"

Crowley arches an eyebrow at the request. "You'd accept the word of a demon?"

Dean gives him an exasperated look. "When that demon's you? Yeah, I would."

All witty remarks and snarky retorts that Crowley perpetually has at the ready abandon him in that second. Leaving him with a completely inadequate and inelegant "Oh" as a response.

"Yeah. So, we gotta deal or what?"

Speechless, Crowley just nods.

Dean's face lights up at the action, before a slow, mischievous smile spreads over his face. It probably says a lot about Crowley that he loves it. "Nah. You know the rules, Crowley. I'm gonna need to hear the words."

Crowley rolls his eyes, but gives in. "Fine. I promise to try harder to prevent idiot humans from getting themselves killed."

"Even if you don't know said idiot humans."

Crowley heaves out a put-upon sigh. "Even if I don't know said idiot humans."

"There, was that so hard?"

"Excruciating."

Dean lifts the corner of his mouth in that flirty little smile that Crowley not-so-secretly adores (and really, it's a good thing that Crowley has absconded over to Team Free Will full-stop, because he's absolutely useless as demon these days), and takes a half-step back, holding out a hand to Crowley as if to shake. Crowley looks at it with amusement.

"Nuh-uh, Squirrel. You know the rules about how these deals are sealed."

Dean laughs, the sound light in the air. "Yeah, but that would be giving you your reward before you've earned it. Can't have that."

Crowley allows a heated smile to spread over his face, dragging his eyes up and down Dean's body in a slow, methodical motion that can't be mistaken for anything other than the pure appreciation it is meant as. "Hmm, well in that case, how about we discuss the terms regarding exactly what I'll be getting in exchange for keeping my part of the bargain? Say, over drinks?"

The shade of red that fills Dean's cheeks is by far and away Crowley's favorite version of the color.

"I think that could be arranged."

~End