Here is chapter. It was a real pain to write, it refused to co-operate with me at all but I think I finally got it right. I hope you like it and thank you to everyone who has reviewed/alerted/favoured this story. It really means a lot to me that you like it.

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One Year Later….

Dean had a normal life. He went to work, he paid his bills, he went to the neighbour's barbeques and every Wednesday night he would get in the car and drives to Bobby's where they would drink beer and watch Dr Sexy MD. He would admit, it was a bit of a boring life. For all its faults the one thing you couldn't say about the hunting lifestyle was that it was boring. Yes, sometimes he would be sat in front of the television watching a repeat from the night before and dread going to sleep because he knew tomorrow would a repeat of today.

Just like today was a repeat of yesterday. But that moment would pass and he'd remember that boring meant being able to go to sleep at night and not have to worry about being torn apart the next day. Boring meant no more drinking until he couldn't remember his own name. Boring meant no longer having the lives of innocent people resting on his shoulders. And most importantly, boring was the price he paid for being with Crowley.

He couldn't have both. He couldn't be a hunter and be with Crowley. His morals wouldn't allow it, it was all or nothing. So he made a choice, a pretty simple choice if he was honest. He chose Crowley. He chose normal. He chose boring. He officially retired six months after Sam had jumped into the cage, simply telling Bobby he was done. Bobby had been surprised, probably more then he'd let on but he hadn't asked why. He already knew.

Dean was no longer willing to give his life so strangers could live theirs. Despite what everyone seemed to believe, he was not the only hunter in existence and it was time for the world to be someone else's problem. It was time for someone else to make the sacrifice. He had sacrificed enough; his mum, his dad, Ellen and Jo. Sam had been the tipping point. He'd lost his baby brother and he didn't have it in him to give up someone else he loved. He wasn't going to give Crowley up and God help anyone who tried to make him.

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Dean grunted when his back hit the wall with a dull thump, Crowley's hands holding him in place. He sighed happily as the warm body pressed against his own, pushing against him, desperate to get closer. Grabbing Crowley's hair tightly he pulled their faces together, forcing Crowley into a deep, demanding kiss.

Their mouths battled, each needing to be closer. It had been so long since they'd last been together and the lust was making his skin itch and he ground their hips together, the friction making his head spin. Once he started he couldn't stop and rutted against Crowley like a teenager. He pulled away from the kiss and placed light kisses down Crowley's neck, the hair on his jaw tickling his lips. He inhaled deeply, loving the smell of the demon when he frowned. He pulled back and slipped out of Crowley's grip in a practiced move.

"You smell of death." He explained, wrinkling his nose at Crowley's confused look.

"I do not."

"Well you certainly smell of something. I'm not touching you until you have a shower."

Crowley rolled his eyes and grunted his irritation at being denied sex for another twenty minutes. He thought quickly and came to the conclusion that arguing with Dean would take longer than simply taking a shower and if he argued there was a good chance he wouldn't be getting any sex.

Dean watched closely as Crowley stripped. He'd lost his jacket sometime earlier and his shoe shad been kicked off a while ago so it didn't take long. He unbuttoned his shirt quickly, exposing chest hair that made Dean's stomach twist pleasantly. Crowley noticed his look and smirked, kicking off his pants and throwing his boxers at Dean's head. Dean laughed and ducked, the boxers flying over his head. Cocking his head he stared at Crowley's ass, appreciating the view.

After Crowley had disappeared into the bathroom, Dean stripped himself down, when Crowley got out of the shower he didn't want to waste time getting undressed. He walked past Crowley's clothes that had been left in a pile on the floor and frowned when he saw a stain. Dean was sure one of the reasons Crowley never wore anything other than black was because blood didn't show up but he had a knack for spotting blood and he picked them off the floor quickly.

The last thing he needed was having to clean blood off the carpet. He was surprised by the weight in Crowley's pants. There was something in his pocket. A part of him told him to mind his own business, it had nothing to do with him what Crowley had in his pockets but his curiosity got the better of him.

Throwing the rest of his and Crowley's clothes on the chest of drawers he reached into the pocket and was shocked when he pulled out a knife. It was a deadly looking knife, impossibly sharp and ornate. It didn't surprise him that Crowley had a knife in his pocket, when he was hunter Dean always had a knife stashed on his somewhere. What bothered him was the fact that it was covered in drying blood, parts of it still sticky.

"Ewwww." he muttered, pulling a face.

Crowley came out form the bathroom completely naked and still dripping wet. The smirk on his face faltered when he saw Dean was holding.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to touch other people's things?"

"Dude this is disgusting. Why do you have a bloody knife?"

Crowley shrugged and took the knife out of Dean's hands before walking back into the bathroom and dropping it into the sink. He came back and one glance at Dean's face told him he wasn't going to let it go.

"Rule one of owning a knife, clean it after you use it." Dean lectured, decades of Bobby and his dad drilling that into him coming to the surface.

"I was impatient to see you." Crowley said, moving over to Dean and pulling them together.

Their naked bodies pressed together, Crowley's shower damp body sliding against Dean. Dean groaned as their cocks slid against one another, the pleasure making him shiver. Crowley's arms wrapped around his waist and he began nibbling on Dean's collarbone.

"Who's blood is on the knife?" Dean asked, panting. His common sense was telling him to let it go but he'd never been one to listen to common sense.

Crowley pulled away from his neck but didn't let go of his waist and sighed heavily. "You're not going to let this go are you?

"Not likely."

"If I tell you, can we get on with having sex?" Crowley growled, he was way too horny.

"Such a romantic." Dean chuckled.

Crowley rolled his eyes again and shuffled Dean back to the bed, pushing him down. "Scoot up."

He moved up the bed so he his head was on his pillow and started up at Crowley with a raised eyebrow, waiting for him to start explaining.

"We're not having sex until you tell me who's blood is on that knife." he promised, closing his legs tightly.

Crowley didn't answer and crawled on top of Dean, straddling his thighs and causing Dean to whimper as their cocks brushed against each other once more.

"I don't know her name. It never came up." Crowley spoke finally.

"Was she a demon?" Dean asked, afraid of what the answer would be.

"No. She was a hunter."

"You killed a hunter?" he wasn't sure why that disturbed him as much as it did.

"It wasn't really the goal but death is usually the side effect of torture."

Dean was startled by how matter of fact Crowley was about it and it reminded him why he never asked for details about what Crowley did when they were apart.

"Why did you torture her?"

"She started poking her nose in things that didn't concern her."

"I meant why torture her? Why not just kill her?" Dean repeated hesitantly. He didn't want to know the answer, but he needed to know.

Crowley paused and reached out to cup Dean's cheek, rubbing small circles with his thumb. "I don't think you want me to answer that."
Dean grabbed Crowley's wrist and held his hand in place, looking up at him intently. "If I didn't want to know the answer, I wouldn't have asked the question."

Crowley hesitated for a moment longer before answering, his gaze never leaving Dean's. "It was fun."

Dean felt his eyes widen at the simple yet terrible answer. Crowley had tortured and killed a innocent woman and there was absolutely no justification behind it. He hadn't done it because it was necessary or because she'd attacked first. He hadn't even done it because she had information he needed. No. Crowley had done it for entertainment.

He still processing that information and what to do with it when a warm pair of lips started to travel down his neck, biting and licking at the soft skin. All thought left his head and he arched up into the demon's touch. Crowley smirked and bit down hard, almost drawing blood. Dean yelled and smack the back of Crowley's head in retaliation.

"Watch it Dracula."

Crowley snorted but licked gently at the bruised skin in apology. Dean hissed as teeth scraped across his collarbone and withered as the demon left large pick hickeys that would turn purple and last for weeks. The demon moved down to his chest, scraping his teeth across his nipples and pulling a breathless whimper from Dean.

Reaching between them he took Dean's growing erection in his hands and began pumping him steadily, twirling his thumb around the swollen mushroom head and pushing a nail into the slit teasingly. Dean thrust up into the touch, his vision swimming. His insides were burning in pleasure, desire and pure lust. He needed to be closer, needed to feel more. More of anything as long as it made him cum.

"Please Crowley." he begged, the hand on his cock not enough to get him off.

Crowley decided to take pity on him. Hooking a hand on his hip, Crowley flipped him over onto his stomach in a single motion. The strength behind the action made Dean shiver in anticipation. The same hand patted his thigh and Dean pushed himself onto his hands and knees, understanding the silent command.

Crowley smirked at the action and settled down onto his knees, taking in the sight. Dean swallowed when he felt large, rough hands caress his ass, a finger trailing in between the cheeks. Two strong hands spread his ass cheeks and Dean frowned when he felt hot air brush against his hole.

"Crowley what…"

"Shut up. You'll enjoy this."

"Enjoy wh….Holy fuck!"

Dean's eyes rolled back into his head when a warm, wet tongue licked over his hole. Crowley was rimming him and it felt fantastic. Why had they never done this before? The tongue swirled around his tight puckered entrance, probing deep with each sweep.

"Fuck!" he cursed when the wet muscle pushed inside him, making him see stars.

The intense pleasure was making him sweat and shake, the muscles in his arms giving way and he collapsed onto his elbows. This forced his ass further up into the air and deeper onto Crowley's tongue. His cock was hard and curved up, pre-cum smearing across his stomach. Crowley was slowly working him open, adding two fingers into the mix. Dean didn't know what was hotter; the fact that his ass was being eaten or the fact that it was the big bad King of Hell who was tongue deep inside his ass.

"Fuck me Crowley!"

Despite the fact he knew what was coming, Dean still wined at the loss when Crowley pulled away. He was about to start swearing when he felt the head of the demon's cock push into his hole. Crowley was pressed against his back, moulding against his body perfectly. With one solid thrust he was balls deep inside him and Dean was sure his brain had gone into shut down. At this point he was amazed that he could even remember how to breathe.

"Is this what you want? Feel my thick cock inside your tight slutty hole?" Crowley breathed into his ear, the husky British drawl making Dean shiver.

All Dean could do was grunt and thrust back, urging Crowley to start moving. The demon took the hint and begun thrusting into him wildly, the force of it making Dean jerk forward. The sound of Crowley's balls slapping heavily against his ass was enough to make Dean completely incoherent. Each thrust battered his prostate and Dean was screeching, each thrust was making his cock throb painfully.

"Crowley please. I can't…" Dean panted desperately.

Crowley reached around and took of his straining cock once more, repeating his actions from earlier. Dean's orgasm came quickly, his body jerking wildly and his vision going black as his cum splattered onto the bed. His hole tightened and pulled Crowley over the edge. Dean moaned softly as the pleasure slowly receded, leaving him weak and shaking. He continued to moan when he felt the warmth of Crowley's cum inside him, making him feel full. His legs gave out and he lay down flat on the bed, panting and trying to regain his breath. He grunted when Crowley dropped down on top of him, the demon was a lot heavier than he looked.

"Dude you are so fucking heavy."

"Are you calling me fat?" Crowley demanded, faking hurt.

"Yes. Get the fuck off me."

Dean sighed when Crowley rolled off him, allowing him to breath easily again. He spread out and buried his face into his pillow, basking in the post orgasm haze. Crowley lay on his side, leaning on his elbow and hovering over Dean. He always recovered faster than Dean did.

"I ran into Amy today, we're invited to her wedding." Dean muttered when he'd come back down to reality.

"I'm busy."

"I haven't even told you when it is." Dean pointed out.

"And yet I know I'll be busy. Isn't that odd?"

Dean snorted and rolled over so his face was buried in Crowley's arm. He sighed happily when Crowley dragged soft fingers up and down his back, from his shoulder blades to the curve of his ass and he reviled in the touch. Loving touches from Crowley were few and far between so he enjoyed them when he could.

"Do you ever think about marriage?" he asked softly, too blessed out to screen what he was saying.

The soothing hand paused for a second before continuing and Dean could feel the heat of Crowley's gaze. "I was married once and have intention of repeating the experience."

Dean would have to be deaf not to hear the warning in his words. Rolling his eyes he reached up and played with Crowley's chest hair. "Calm down Fergus, I wasn't offering. Just curious."

Crowley glared and pulled Dean's hair roughly, hard enough to pull some out and cause Dean to yelp at the unexpected pain.

"What the fuck was that for douche bag?"

"Don't call me Fergus." Crowley hissed, tugging the hair again in warning.

Dean frowned at the rough treatment and made a silent promise to get Crowley back later. He stretched languidly and rolled out of bed, standing on shaky legs.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm dirty and hungry. Someone couldn't wait so I missed dinner."

"Oh please, like you weren't gagging for my cock." Crowley snorted but followed Dean in getting out of bed. Now that it had been mentioned, he was hungry too. Hell wasn't known for its cuisine.

On his way to the bathroom he slapped Dean on the ass with a smirk, knowing how much it pissed Dean off.

"Stop fucking doing that!"

…

Dean entered the kitchen and opened the fridge to take out the leftover roast pork he'd cooked the day before. Over the past year he'd become very good at cooking any form of meat. He didn't know why he'd never cooked before, it was easy and the food much better than anything from a microwave. As he moved around the kitchen he couldn't believe how much his life had changed. He had moved out of Bobby's nearly a year ago, wanting a place where he and Crowley could fuck wherever and whenever they wanted without worrying about someone walking in on them.

Well that, and he'd realised he never wanted to hunt again. After that decision he'd decided that it was time for him to become a normal and semi functioning part of society. And here he was. A functioning adult with a full time job, mortgage, bills and responsibilities. Sometimes it still made his head spin.

Moving quickly around the kitchen he put the cold meat in the microwave. While it was warming up he took out some bread and butter, Crowley would complain but was it was ten o'clock at night and Crowley was delusion if he thought he was getting anything fancier than sandwiches to eat.

When it was done he moved into the lounge room where Crowley had spread himself across the couch and handed him his sandwich before taking his place next to the demon.

"What are we watching?" he asked, voice muffled by pork. That earned him a irritated glance for talking with his mouth but he just replied with a grin.

"A documentary on Hitler."

"Not exactly my idea of fun, but alright."

"You should pay attention. That man knew how to make a deal."

"Hitler sold his soul?"

"Does that really surprise you? A poor solider with no real education or skills becomes the most feared dictator in the world because he followed his dreams and worked hard?" Crowley scoffed, kicking his feet onto the coffee table and taking a bite of the sandwich.

Dean refused to take the bait. He'd learned quickly that Crowley said most of the things he did to get a rise out of people and the angrier you got, the more fun he got out of it. So Dean took a deep breath, twisted in his seat and rested his feet in Crowley's lap with a smirk.

They watched the television in silence, empty plates forgotten on the coffee table. Dean was slowing drifting off to sleep, documentaries had couldn't hold his attention at the best of times, never mind being exhausted from sex.

"How long are you staying this time?" he murmured when the show ended and he had Crowley's attention once more.

"A few weeks."

Dean snapped awake. A few weeks? In the seventeen months they'd been together, Crowley had never stayed longer than a few days at a time. He wasn't sure whether to be happy or suspicious. Both, defiantly both.

"A few weeks? I thought you couldn't be away for that long?"

"Things have finally settled down and it's not like I'm completely out of reach if something comes up." Crowley answered simply, amused at Dean's suspicious reaction.

To anyone else, Crowley would appear to be utterly sincere but Dean knew better. He could see the slight shift in body language, the almost non existent shift in his eyes.

"You're not telling me something." he accused.

"Something? Oh no Dean, there are hundreds of things I don't tell you. Because they don't concern you."

"I bet I could make you tell me." Dean smirked, rubbing his foot against Crowley's crotch.

"You should test that theory." Crowley growled, pulling Dean up and into his lap in one smooth move.

Their kiss was hot and heavy, mouths working together perfectly. Dean was rocking his hips steadily, enjoying the growls he pulled from the demon. He pulled away with a gasp when Crowley's hand snuck up his shirt and raking his nails down his chest.

"Oh fuck." he hissed, bucking into the touch.

"Open your eyes darling."

He didn't even realise his eyes were closed. His eyes fluttered open and what he saw caused his cock to twitch in excitement. Crowley locked their eyes together, burning red eyes keep Dean pinned down. He would never understand where his red-eye kink had come from. What he did know was nothing got him harder than a seeing those eyes. The atmosphere between them had changed from teasing to bordering on desperation and Dean was just about to suggest they remove the hindrance of clothes when his phone rang. The shrill noise cut through his arousal quicker then he would have thought possible. Grunting in irritation he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone, ignoring Crowley's suggestion to just leave it.

"What?" he growled, unhappily. This had better be fucking important.

"Dean?"

"Who else would it be Bobby?"

"I need you to come down here."

"Bobby what are talking about?"

"There's something I need you to see."

"And you can't tell me over the phone because?"

Crowley shot him a questioning look and Dean shrugged his shoulders.

"You wouldn't believe me if I did. Get your ass down here!"

Dean sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "So let me get this straight. It's ten o'clock at night, I'm seeing Crowley for the first time in over two weeks and you want be to drive three hours so you can show me something. But you can't what it is or why I need to see it. Is that the general gist of what's happening here?"

"Dean when have I ever asked you to do something that wasn't necessary? Trust me, you need to get your ass down here."

"Fine. This had better be fucking important." Dean grunted before hanging up.

He growled and let his head flop down and rest on Crowley's shoulder.

"What the fuck is Grumpy's problem?"

"My leading theory is he's in the middle of a complete mental breakdown." Dean shook his head tiredly, tucking his phone into his jeans.

He sighed and pushed himself of Crowley's lap. If he wanted to get back some time before dawn he had to leave now. He grabbed his jacket off the dinning room chair and his keys. He was not looking forward to the drive.

"Do you want me to come with you? I love watching that vein throb in Bobby's head."

"I'm sure you do." Dean chuckled, making his way back over to Crowley and standing in front of him. "But I think you should stay here. Bobby sounds stressed enough."

"Why don't we finish what we started? I know how much you love a quickie."

"As wonderful as that sounds, we don't have any condoms and I doubt even you could eat me out so thoroughly I don't need a shower." Dean pointed out, earning himself a playful kick from Crowley.

He leaned down and kissed him quickly, really wishing he could stay exactly where he was and have another round of mind blowing sex.

Dean didn't know what Bobby wanted but he had that feeling. That feeling that told him he was going to have a mother of a headache by the time everything had been sorted out. Nothing good ever came from a cryptic phone call in the middle of the night. Sighing once more he hoped the night wasn't going to end as badly as he feared.

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When Dean pushed open Bobby's front door he frowned when he saw Bobby standing in the middle of the hallway waiting for him.

"Oh yeah, that's not fucking creepy at all." he muttered, still pissed at being pulled away from his nice warm bed and his horny demon.

"Dean I need you to stow the sarcasm for five fucking minutes and pay attention!"

Dean felt a wave of worry, Bobby had never spoken to him like that before. "Sure Bobby, what is it?"

"Before I show you, I need you to know that I've already done all the tests. Holy water, salt, silver, exorcisms in every language I know. I even muttered some Enochian spell I barely understood." Bobby explained, pacing back and forth in the short width of the hallway. "I need you to not freak out."

Dean watched Bobby worriedly, when he'd told Crowley he thought Bobby was having a break down it had been a joke. Now he wasn't so sure. "Bobby the only thing freaking me out is you."

"Yeah well keep that in mind." Bobby muttered before pushing Dean towards the kitchen. "They're in there."

Dean closed his eyes and struggled to find what little patience he had left. There was that headache he knew was coming. He really didn't want to be here, judging for the Bobby was acting this had supernatural written all over it and he wanted no part in it. He'd spent the last year building his life and he wasn't going to have that taken away from him. "They? Bobby what the fuck are you…"

There were only a few times in his life when Dean had been completely lost for words. This was one of them. In Bobby's kitchen was the massive and unmistakable form of his brother. Now that he could handle, after all it wasn't the first time his brother had come back from the dead. However what really made feel like he was having the most realistic and horrifying dream of his life was the person standing next to Sam. The also unmistakable but much more terrifying John Winchester.

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Ohhh, cliff hanger. I couldn't help myself. I was very happy that no one guessed who I was bringing back from the dead. I was originally planning on bringing Samuel back like in the series but I decided John was a better choice. After all, this story is about Dean and Crowley learning to live with each other and growing as a person/demon. And what better way to test that loyalty than to have daddy Winchester in the picture? Anyway, I hope you like the direction I'm taking this in.