Dancing with the Devil - Prologue
Heyyyyyy everybody! Welcome to my new story, Dancing with the Devil. Yes, this is a Destiel fanfiction, and yes there will be some smut in future chapters. I assume you're into that kinda thing since you're here, but if not, don't worry about it. I will post a warning at the beginning of the chapter saying that it contains such content and you can skip over those parts if you want.
WARNING: This will contain DEMON!DEAN, HUMAN!CAS, and DEMON!SAM. BOTH SAM AND DEAN ARE KNIGHTS OF HELL. How this all occurred will be explained later in the story. Crowley is still the King of Hell and, Castiel's brothers and sisters will be mentioned, but MAY OR MAY NOT (haven't decided yet) appear as angels later on. MAY CONTAIN SAMIFER. NOT SURE ABOUT THIS EITHER.
If there are any ships in particular you might want to see (particularly with Sam and Crowley, or other characters) just let me know and I'll consider them.
Anyway, I hope you like this story and stick around a while!
I don't own Supernatural.
Prologue
The Opening Number
The demon stared at him with soulless black eyes. "So . . . what can I do for you, gorgeous?" he said with a dark chuckle.
The man gulped. Suddenly, this didn't seem like such a good idea. He watched the demon with wary eyes. The man's vessel – whoever it was – was very attractive. He was tall – about 6'2 with gelled blond hair . . . and evergreen eyes when they weren't . . . the color of obsidian. Those dark, abysmal eyes made the man shudder in fear; made the hair on the back of his neck stand at attention. "I would . . . like to sell my soul," the man said, his voice catching as he spoke.
The demon smiled sinisterly. "Yeah, I got that part, sugar-lips. But most people don't come to me just to sell their soul. What do you want in return?"
"My brother – Gabriel – he's . . . he's sick," the man explained. The demon watched him closely, his black eyes running over the human's body with carnal intent. The man couldn't help but notice how the demon paid so close attention to him – how it . . . almost admired him. The man, on many occasions, had been told that he was attractive, but it was always women who had told him that. Did . . . did this demon find him attractive too? It was a bizarre assumption, but . . . No, the human tried to tell himself. Demons were always like that – they were always doing whatever they could to make other uncomfortable. That was what Michael had always said, and he was a theologian.
"Ah," the demon said, now clearly understanding the human's intent. "So you want me to cure your poor brother and in return, you give me your soul?"
The man nodded. "Yes . . . that is what I want."
"In ten years, my boss will send his . . . dogs to collect our payment," the demon explained. "That is the normal practice . . . but . . . I have something different in mind."
"Something . . . different?" the man asked, his voice rising in pitch partially out of curiosity and partially out of fear. "What do you mean?"
"I mean . . . I have a different deal to offer you, sugar-lips," the demon said. "How about . . . I fix your brother . . . but instead of you sealing the deal and signing my boss's contract . . . why don't you sign mine?"
"What would . . . your contract entail?" the human asked.
The demon thought for a moment. "Well . . . for one thing, I'll sweeten the deal. Your entire family – your brother, your other brothers, your sisters – anyone who's related to you – I'll give them all a long happy life. All of them. They'll die of old age and they'll all – most likely – go to Heaven. And, I won't take your soul in ten years."
"You won't . . . so . . . is the time length shorter?"
"Nope, that's the beauty of it, sugar-lips," the demon said with a smile. His black eyes were gone now and replaced with the green that the man found . . . rather enthralling. "You get to live the rest of your life too. But, when you die, your soul belongs to me."
"So . . . this is the same deal, but better?" the man asked. He didn't understand. Why was this demon doing this? Why was he making it easier on him?
"Well . . . not exactly. You see, if you pick my boss's deal, when you die, you'll go to the pit. You'll be tortured in unspeakable ways and will have all the humanity burned out of you until you are one of us . . . But, if you go with me, you will be mine," the demon explained.
The human was still confused. "I'm not sure I still understand . . . What does . . . being 'yours' mean for me?"
The demon smirked. "Do you really want to know?" he asked. His voice sounded unusually dark . . . but there was a new tone in it as well. Something still demonic but . . . inviting. It made the man shiver again, but this time it was more in . . . anticipation.
"I don't know . . . is it . . . pleasant?"
The demon laughed. "More pleasant than the pit, rest assured. And . . . you might find it . . . very enjoyable. I won't turn you into a demon – not right away, at least. You'll be my . . . servant of sorts. A . . . what's the right word? Companion? Slave? Submissive? Those all describe it well enough."
"Why, though?" the human continued to inquire. "I don't understand why you would do this for me."
"Why do you think? I like you, sugar-lips. I just met you, but I can see you – really see you. And I like you."
The man thought for a few moments. What choice did he have? At least . . . this deal seemed better than the other one. "Okay. I accept."
The demon smirked. "Excellent. Now come hither."
"Huh?"
"You need to sign my contract," the demon explained.
"Oh . . . okay, do you have a pen?" the man asked, walking over as the demon requested.
When he was less than a foot away, the demon chuckled. "Honey, it's not that kind of a contract."
The human didn't understand. He cocked his head to the side, and his lips puckered ever so slightly. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. The demon got a hungry look in his eyes. His tongue darted out for a split second to wet his lips. "I don't need your signature. I need something else. We seal our deals . . . In a . . . specific way."
"How?"
"C'mere, sugar-lips. Let me get a taste of you."
"W- what?"
"You won't only be signing your soul over to me . . . but also getting a little preview of what's to come," the demon said. Before the human could ask what he meant, the demon had him by the shoulders.
The human stared into his eyes, his own wide with a mixture of fear and, surprisingly, arousal. The demon's eyes were that deep, handsome green again. He looked . . . good. He looked like a god – an angel. How could someone so beautiful be so evil? Did . . . did I just call him beautiful? the human thought. A blush rose to his cheeks at the realization.
The demon didn't miss it. "Aww, that's adorable," he purred. One of his hands abandoned the human's shoulders and gently caressed his cheek. "You're too sweet, sugar-lips. Usually, I don't like sweet stuff . . . but you – if I get sick from you, it'll be worth it. But I don't think you'll make me sick – you're like my special bed. You ain't too hard. You ain't too soft. You're just right."
The human gulped again. "Well . . . I take it that's good."
"Hmm," the demon purred once more. "Very, very good." Without warning, the demon leaned forward and pressed his lips to the man's. The man went rigid; he didn't know what to do. He hadn't kissed anyone before – not a woman, not another man . . . This was completely new territory to him. But the demon kept going, his lips moving against the human's stationary ones. "C'mon," he growled between his kisses. "Open up, sugar-lips. Kiss me back."
The human slowly opened his mouth, and then began to move in sync with the demon's, and the human felt . . . happy. The feeling of the demon's mouth against his – it felt . . . good. It felt . . . amazing. And suddenly he found that he didn't want to stop. Instinctively, his hands went up to cup the demon's face, but that's when it pulled away.
"We have eternity for more of that," he promised with a devilish smirk. "I'm glad you liked it . . . uh . . . I never did get your name, sugar-lips."
The human swallowed. His body was left reeling with the sudden loss of contact. He couldn't explain it, but he wanted to kiss this demon again. He wanted the demon to . . . shove him against a wall and kiss him over and over . . . He didn't want the demon to stop. Ever.
"Castiel," the human answered, breathless.
"Castiel?" the demon repeated with a chuckle. "What kinda name is that?"
"An angel's name," Castiel repeated. "My . . . my parents named all of us after angels. They're very religious."
"Castiel," the demon repeated once more. "Ha, that's too good."
"What is your name, if I may ask," Castiel questioned, his eyes narrowed slightly.
"Dean," the demon replied, his eyes briefly flashing obsidian again.
"Dean?"
"What? Is there something wrong with it?"
"It doesn't sound like a demon's name, that's all," Castiel remarked. "Dean sounds . . ."
"Human? Yeah, I know. Hell, maybe one day I'll tell you the story," Dean muttered, turning away from his client.
"What story?"
"The story about how I became a demon," Dean murmured, turning back toward him.
"You weren't . . . born one?" Castiel asked, suddenly feeling a little foolish. Why would you ask that?
Dean laughed. "No, demons don't work that way. Demons – we were all humans once. Most of us make deals like you and get turned over a few decades – sometimes centuries."
"You say most . . . so you . . . that is not how you . . . became a demon?"
"Oh, darling, I ain't an ordinary demon for starters – I'm not even a crossroads demon," Dean said with a chuckle. "I ain't even supposed to be here, but I . . . I needed some fun, so I 'convinced' the crossroads demon that was supposed to be here to . . . take the night off."
"So . . . if you're not a 'crossroads' demon, as you call them . . . what are you?"
Dean smirked. "Honey, you don't wanna know. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. All you need to know, is that I am the most power demon in Hell, and that's all you need to remember."
"So . . . is it done then? Our deal?" Castiel asked. He decided that he would painfully let the topic rest. I guess I'll have time later to . . . inquire.
"Taken care of," Dean said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Anything else, Castiel, or am I free to leave?"
"You don't exactly need my permission if you're the most powerful demon in Hell," Castiel shot back innocently.
Dean laughed again. "I really like you, Castiel. You've got moxie, and I look forward to spending the rest of eternity with you! See you in . . . oh forty or fifty years, give or take a few." And with that, the demon was gone.
Castiel was left, standing in the middle of the crossroads, looking around in confusion. He knew that Dean had appeared suddenly, but he hadn't even seen him leave. He was there one second, and then gone in the blink of an eye. Castiel sighed and turned to head home. Instead of fearing Hell, he found himself anxious to see Dean again. He couldn't explain it, but he actually thought that his death couldn't come soon enough.
A/N: Please read and review.