Chapter warning- Nudity(mind out of the gutter people-no sex in this one), Crowley making fun of Dean, and angst.
I think that about covers it. Don't like, don't read. Don't be that person.
One of the few things Dean never wanted to see first thing in the morning was Crowley's leering face. Hell, he didn't even want to see it on a good day so his brain was trying to rationally explain to him why it was the first thing he saw upon waking.
Ingrained survival instinct that was so deeply entrenched it didn't need consciousness to guide it made Dean's hand dive underneath his pillow as the hunter rolled out of the bed to seek immediate cover. Surrounding and current events caught up with him belated as the search for his weapon came up empty.
This place was so obviously not the crappy motel Sam and him had checked into last night unless Dean had somehow failed to notice that the rundown pay-by-the-hour that they chose to stay at for lack of anything better in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, Illinois was actually now looking more like a charming Mediterranean villa in the heart of Tuscany, complete with a stunning view of vineyards and other picturesque scenery.
The bed Dean had fallen asleep in and was now using for cover was not the stained, broken mattress he had passed out on but instead, a monstrosity of cushion looking soft as a cloud and piled high with the kind of fluffy blankets Dean preferred but would never admit aloud to upon pain of death, smelling of sunshine and clean linen.
The other denoting factor of the situation was not of Crowley standing here, smirking widely at Dean but the fact, he was most definitely naked in every sense of the word, completely bare of any clothing and even worse, without a weapon.
"Oh calm down all ready. It's nothing I haven't seen before, sweetheart, and be perfectly honest, I have to admit I'm a touch disappointed.", Crowley leered good-naturedly . "Especially after hearing all the hype."
"Why are you here, damn it?", Dean glared at him, refraining the urge to cover himself with his hands. Confidence was key in any situation, even when your dangly bits were unexpectedly on full display.
"Because when the boss says 'Jump', if I want to keep existing, I'll say 'How high?' with a smile on my face and a song in my heart.", Crowley shrugged, taking a moment swirl his glass of scotch, watching the golden brown liquid coat the inside of the crystal. "Believe me, I'm not exactly thrilled to be here ogling the tender undercarriage of god's favorite lap dog."
"Screw you.", Dean snapped, giving in to yank a sheet off of the bed to make a makeshift toga. It wasn't ideal but it was better than nothing. Plus wherever he was, it was kinda chilly and not doing anything kind for his boys, Crowley's derogatory comments about his size aside. He had never gotten any complaints in that department and he wasn't about to take shit from a guy who when he was human sold his soul to hit double digits.
"Not for all the pretty little souls in heaven. I would prefer to die not at all but if given the option, I'd rather go painlessly.", Crowley dismissed airly, paying more attention to the stunning glass vases in the room then at Dean as he struggled to arrange his impromptu clothing so that it didn't trip him.
"Do you wish for me to take his eyes? Will that make you more comfortable?", was Castiel's greeting as he appeared in the room beside Dean, who if he wasn't so used to it by now would have jumped. As it was, he just turned to scowl at the former angel.
"Still very much in the room and more than willing to look elsewhere.", Crowley said, quick to turn his back on the pair.
"Cas, I need clothes. Real ones.", Dean snapped, though it was hard to appear menaced when one was wearing a sheet. That and the other being menaced was god who tended not to be easily intimidated, especially by a grumpy human in said sheet.
"I prefer you without them in my presence.", Castiel said coolly, staring at the sheet like its very existence upon Dean's body personally offended him. Dean felt like he had to act quickly lest he be responsible for the smiting of all sheets everywhere. He wasn't sure if he could handle that kind of guilt. Out of ideas, Dean pressed his hand to the mark on his shoulder, his own personal hotline to god, shoving all his emotions through it- fear of being naked in the presence of an enemy, hunter's instinct hard wired to kill any threat, the near physical need for a weapon to stay calm, the anger of being caught unaware and left vulnerable.
"Ah. I understand now. Very well.", Castiel nodded. Dean looked down to find himself clothed, dressed in his normal amount of comfortable layers and armed with his favorite gun and all his other weapons, even the ones no one was supposed to know about. Dean sighed in relief.
"Now that bit of unpleasantness is over and done with, can we all move on with our day? Some of us are very busy. What can I do for god and his precious poppet today?", reminding Dean that Crowley was still very much in the room. Dean's fingers itched for the comforting grip of his gun and was warming up to the idea of putting several well aimed bullets into the demon's head and heart.
"I have summoned you here for Dean's pleasure.", Castiel answered, his way with word, or truly his lack of skill with them, making the other two stare in confused horror at him.
"What?", Crowley and Dean asked as one, the demon and hunter glaring at each other when they realized them had just done so in tandem.
As per usual, Castiel failed to notice he had said anything amiss, the god pressing on. "You have pleased me Dean with your obedience. I wish to give you a gift, one of so many that you deserve for being my beloved.", Castiel stated clearly in his cut and dry manner. Dean ignored Crowley as he felt his entire body commit to a blush.
"Gee, thanks, Cas.", Dean said dryly, his exasperation making him close his eyes for a second as he regrouped mentally. He wished that Castiel would refrain from making those kind of statements in front of other people and beings. Dean just knew he was never going to hear the end of this from the damn demon, Crowley's amusement already a near tangible thing.
"I would quit smirking if you wish to keep your face.", Castiel told the King of Hell whose smug expression snapped off like light under the god's half lidded look.
"Just happy for the pair of you and your domestic bliss is all. Please let me know what I can do for you so that my face and I can be on our way.", Crowley backpedaled magnificently, his demeanor all professional calm. Dean was torn between applauding or shooting him.
"What a matter? To good for god?", Dean goaded because he could and the bastard had seen him naked so Dean felt he was entitled to a little payback.
"Not at all.", Crowley answered, all smoothness and snake oil. "I'm just a very busy monarch, not that you would know anything about that.", he said, giving Dean a pointed look. The hunter scowled back, remembering the dog comment from earlier.
"I didn't bring you here to upset Dean.", Castiel reminding all that he was still in the room and not exactly pleased with one member of his company if the cracks running up the walls and through the floors were any indication. Dean shot Crowley a glare, mouthing 'you owe me' before turning to Castiel with all charm and smiles.
"We're fine, Cas. Just bantering.", Dean soothed, sidling up along side Castiel as he wrapped his arms around the god's narrow waist, working his hands under so many layers. It was worth the effort when he touched skin that crackled with power, making his fingertips tingle from the slight burn of it. Castiel seemed to be calming down though as reality healed itself, the room returning to normal. The god liked it when Dean willingly initiated contact between them. Ignoring Crowley's presence entirely, mostly because he had to, to commit himself to this course of action, Dean pressed his face into the crook of Castiel's neck, resting his head there as he breathed in the mild scent of god, faint and sterile as metal or stone.
In the quiet of their shared moment though, Dean's brain went elsewhere analyzing the situation at hand, presenting something that left Dean chilled down to his bones. The hunter fought to breath normally as his body tried to commit itself to an all out panic attack. It was possible that Crowley was here for Dean just like Castiel said, but the demon was here to personally escort the hunter back to hell. He was going to freeze and burn, drawn and quartered at leisure on the rack again, after all that he had been through and suffered.
Dean wasn't even aware that he had let go of Castiel, or perhaps the god had moved him back upon noticing him shutting down, until cool hands cupped Dean's heated face, making his lost gaze focus on the face in front of him. Blue eyes the color of summer skies held his own earth bound green, making it impossible for Dean to look away. "Oh Dean, there is no need for fear. One day you will quit punishing yourself for things far beyond your control and come to expect gifts such as this as your right.", Castiel sighed, his rough voice hushed to an almost softness.
"What are you giving me?", Dean licked his lips tentatively, his mouth sour with fear as he listened to his own pulse rate drum in his ears.
"Yeah boss. What are you giving him?", Crowley looked less than pleased and maybe even a touch worried.
"Dean spent forty years in hell being tortured by demons.", Castiel explained without really doing so.
"I'm aware he took the grand tour though I would like to point out that I was not one of the guides.", Crowley arched an elegant brow in unspoken question.
"So what? Why are you bringing this up?", Dean made himself ask, tremors still working their way through his body at intervals. He felt dizzy, wondering where the hell this was going. Dean found himself gathered up into unrelenting arms, Castiel pressing close to seal the line of their bodies. Dean practically sagged in relief as Castiel took his weight, the hunter all out leaning against the god as Castiel touched their foreheads together in an intimate gesture.
"You will name every demon who dared to touch you during that time. You will then decide their punishment and the method of their destruction. This is my gift to you, my beloved, my Righteous Man.", Castiel murmured as he pressed light kisses to Dean's mouth which went slack with surprise.
It just all seemed too good to be real. Of course, Dean had dreamed of such things, dark little fantasies of revenge he kept to himself because they were too bloody and too dark to be exposed to the light of reality. He kept them there in the back corners of his mind, back where the side of him that liked to torture permanently resided. It was the only way to keep it sated, feeding it bleeding bits of vengeful wishes.
There are had so many in that span of forty years but Dean knew each and every one of them. The demons who had kept him company had taken their time and turns carving their names into his skin, weaving it in his muscles, and burning it into his exposed nerves and organs. He would never forget them.
He couldn't accept this though. It would be like letting Superman blow up a planet, going dark side from temptation. It was all too sweet and alluring to be good for anyone, but when Dean opened his mouth to voice that sentiment, sudden realization stole his words and breath all at once.
These were demons Castiel was offered revenge upon, not humans. If the hell spawned bastards were topside, Dean would be hunting them down personally, ending each and every last one of them. Castiel was offering something he would have taken for himself if life were fair. The more he thought about it, Dean realized that he didn't even have to torture them if he didn't want to. They had Crowley for that. Castiel wasn't interested in entertaining Dean's dark side either or sullying his own hands for that matter. They had the demon King of Hell to do their bidding.
So the two respective rulers of Heaven and Hell were quite startled when Dean started to laugh, great big bouts of it with such a force it shook his body and made tears stream down his cheeks. Long and loud Dean Winchester laughed as God 2.0 and the Devil's understudy looked on in wonder, watching the hunter sink weak and empty to his knees, his body shaking as the hunter attempted to hold himself together.
And still he laughed.
"Dean."
Dean looked up, panting because god sounded a touch worried for him. Castiel looked down at the hunter, his human, his dark head delicately tilted to the side and just for a moment, Dean could allow himself to admit that he loved him with all his heart and soul,
"God, you're beautiful.", Dean grinned up at his impossible lover because it was funny and he felt so alive and life could be good to him sometimes if he just let it. He made the feeling pass though, waving off Castiel's look of concern as he got back on his feet, feeling exhausted but strangely relieved as well. It was like someone had taken a crushing burden off his back, one he hadn't even realized he had been carrying until now.
Not bothering to wipe away the sticky trails of tears from his face, Dean started to list name and name, one right after the other without fear, without hesitation, with a clear conscience and a smile on his lips.
More to come. Thanks for reading. Feed the need and leave a comment cause I'm a selfish bastard of a writer. :P