ohmistercrowley | For righteous

It wasn't that Dean had any specific problems with Crowley, but after everything with Meg and fucking Ruby, Dean just wasn't crazy about being around demons. Not that he ever had been, but it set him even more on edge now. As far as demons went, Crowley was tolerable enough, but he was still a demon and Dean held no illusions of why he was helping them.

When the demon appeared, Dean gave him a long-suffering look. He'd been about to take off his pants and relax with some magic fingers. Demons ruined everything. Then he noticed the little squirming thing and indicated towards it with his head.

"You eat puppies now?"

"Really. I'm a demon, darling, not an uncultured heathen."

Because, yes, infants make absolutely scrumptious muffins that go well with mimosas, but puppies are totally off the table. Yes, Crowley has a very creative list of moral standards, thank you for noticing.

"It's for you, you dolt."

Have an equally long-suffering roll of Crowley's eyes, as if sometimes he thinks you're too stupid to have survived this long alone (he does). He set the squirming lump down on the floor, and the ball of fur promptly galloped over to sniff at Dean's leg.

She was quite large for a puppy, with paws that were each the size of her head. Her fur was faintly mottled, ash greys that shifted from slate to charcoal. Her eyes were a bright, feral yellow.

She looked up at Dean and wagged her tail.

Dean eyed the puppy carefully. It looked harmless enough, but then so did Cas. Actually Cas looked more harmless than your average puppy, if Dean was being honest.

"You know, between the messed up brother and the drunk angel on my shoulder, I don't know that I have room for another pet, thoughtful as that is."

Dean wasn't sure what about him screamed puppy-lover. Sure, he liked dogs fine, but he wasn't the kind of person who went around owning one. Still, he couldn't help reaching down to pet her. He was a sucker for puppy eyes, whether they were coming from his brother or an actual puppy.

"Yes, well, I quite frankly don't have the time to spare to make sure you're not figuring out new and inventive way of getting yourself murdered."

She looked harmless enough, and she reacted eagerly as he reached down to pet her, firs playfully headbutting at his fingers, and then nuzzling into his hand. She canted her head so he could reach behind her floppy ears. Pet the puppy Dean.

Crowley, quite frankly, seemed rather unconcerned with the fact that Dean might not want the puppy. It was for his own protection, and, well, let's just say that she took after her mother in all the ways that Crowley had been concerned with.

"This way I'll know when you're in trouble and not just getting your kicks."

Yes, Dean, Crowley was hinting that he thought you liked getting roughed up.

Dean snorted.

"How the fuck is some puppy going to keep me safe? I think I'll be too busy keeping it safe from all the things I hunt."

But he was already scooping her up so she could sit on his lap. Okay, he really was a sucker for floppy ears and eager kisses and if Crowley tells anyone about this, it's holy water bathtime for him.

"And it's not like I try to get myself killed. My job's just not safe."

It was one time!

The puppy seemed even more interested in Dean's lap than she had been in his hand, promptly flopping down and curling up in Dean's lap and claiming it as hers. Congratulations Dean, she's claimed you as one of her people. She laps at Dean's hand with messy puppy kisses, yellow eyes glittering up at him, and she looks particularly happy. Good luck getting rid of the beguiling ball of fluff. But don't worry Dean, your secret is safe with Crowley.

On that note, the demon saunters over, reaching down into Dean's lap and scritches her behind the ears.

"Because if you get yourself into trouble now, she'll know, which means I'll know, and it means I can protect my investments in this Apocalypse mess without having to play devil on your shoulder."

His tracking coins were bound to one location and while they were useful in their own way, they didn't excel at the particular task Crowley needed at the moment. Not to mention she was better at taking care of herself than Dean likely assumed, but Crowley was going to let Dean figure that out on his own.

"Really, it's better for everyone all around."

He was trying to eye the dog suspiciously, but she was just so cute, so he kept petting her softly instead.

"So, what? You're psychically linked to a puppy?"

He tried not to smile, but he couldn't help it. Shit, this whole thing was just so bizarre.

"And I don't need a demon looking out for me. I have Cas and Sam and I can lookout for myself, anyway. I'm fine."

But the puppy was really cute and she seemed to be really comfortable in Dean's lap. Dean could stand to keep her around. He bent over his lap to look at her closer.

"What's her name?"

"That is one way to put it, I suppose."

Yes, he was. That same puppy that seemed to be making herself quite at home on Dean's lap, her tail wagging as the human she'd newly claimed continued petting her. She liked him, liked the way that he smelled. Crowley watched Dean, noted how he smiled as the puppy's whip-thin tail wagged.

Maybe the puppy could be good for him in other ways, too.

"Darling, you're not fine. You throw yourself into harm's way like it's an addiction. You go looking for innocent people that you can risk your life over. Normally I wouldn't worry since you have an angel on your shoulder, but it hasn't escaped anyone's notice that he's not quite up to snuff these days. So keep the puppy. She's housebroken."

She filled out most of Dean's lap, her bright yellow eyes gleaming up at him with a mix of sharp intelligence and interest. She straightened up and licked at the tip of his nose. She likes you, Dean.

"I was thinking the least I could do is let you name her."

The whole thing was kind of like a present. Like one of those first gift scenes in some romance movie.

Dean laughed and wrapped his arm around the puppy, looking into her eyes. He was ignoring the comments about himself and Cas. Crowley didn't know what he was talking about. Dean could take care of himself and Cas.

"You look like a Mary. Do you like that?"

He took the resulting nose lick as a yes and grinned wider.

"I think she likes it."

No one had ever given Dean a present like this. It was weird, but she seemed like something really special. He was going to take good care of her, even if he wasn't crazy about where she came from. It wasn't her fault a demon gave her to Dean.

"So how does your link with her work? Do I have to change in the bathroom from now on?"

Thankfully neither the hunter nor the demon quite managed to translate the exchange out to the obvious I'm worried about you.

Crowley smiled, watching as Dean gave her a name, and she licked his nose in response. Mary it was, then.

"She does," Crowley agreed. He could feel the low pulse of approval from her, even if her eagerly wagging tail didn't make her feeling in the matter clear as daylight.

She really was special, not that Crowley thought that Dean would have appreciated that. Hellhounds were next to impossible to breed with other dogs; to his knowledge, he was the only one that had ever managed it, but he'd always had a special touch with the creatures.

"Empathy. I can tell if she's hurt, threatened, so on... Really, darling, if I wanted to see you naked, I'd just stop by when you're in the shower."

Crowley's gaze slipped away from Mary and instead focused with perhaps too much intensity on Dean's green eyes. He found the hunter... fascinating. He might need both of the Winchesters to stop the Apocalypse, but Dean was the one that captivated him.

Looking away quickly, Dean tried to busy himself with playing with Mary.

"You know, Cas can get away with shit like that, because I know he doesn't know any better. You can't."

The attention was strange. Sam was the one who wanted a dog. Why was Crowley always going through Dean when he had to know that Sam was easier to deal with. Still, it was nice that she was his. She felt like she belonged with him and he wondered how much of that was Crowley pulling some weird demon mojo and how much was real, but it didn't really matter, because she was sweet and if she needed someone to feed her and take her for walks, Dean could do it.

"And I'm not going to let her get hurt. What kind of monster puts a puppy in danger?"

"If I did it, it would be precisely because I know better."

Which was to say that when the angel stumbled in on Dean in the shower it was out of ignorance. Crowley would do it out of intention, out of sexually-tinged interest. But, instead of walking in on him in the shower, Crowley had give him a puppy. See? He was, in his own way, almost trying to play by Dean's obtuse rules, here. But, even for Crowley, that was an odd subject.

"I have no intention of letting either of you get hurt."

Crowley admitted, a brief flicker of fondness as he reached down again, ruffling her ears and then scratching at the top of her head. There was also the fact that she wasn't as helpless as Dean thought, but Crowley thought he'd let them get to know one another before admitting she was half-hellhound.

And for the record? There was no demon mojo involved here, Dean. Mary was just an adorable little thing.

Dean eyed Crowley and muttered, but there wasn't really any bite behind his words.

"Great, well I'll be bathing in holy water from now on."

The last thing he needed was a demon with sexual designs on him, though at least Sam was getting a break for once. It was weird, anyway, watching Crowley touch Mary so fondly. He wouldn't have pegged Crowley for the kind of person to like cute, cuddly pets and definitely not one to give them to people, but Dean wasn't going to complain. At least she seemed happy.

His eyes flickered up to Crowley at that second point, though. He knew Crowley needed him, but it almost seemed like Crowley actually cared beyond just Dean being useful to him. Weird.

Crowley had a side he didn't often let out aside from around animals. Hellhounds, for all that they might be unforgiving creatures to those that owed contracts, would never have faulted him for sentimentality like the rest of Hell. And so he had a certain fondness for the creatures. Truth was that Crowley did care more than he should, perhaps even more than he wanted to.

Mary shifted, standing up in Dean's lap, her gaze on the door sharp, and a low growl in her throat. Crowley raised an eyebrow at Dean, a smile curving his lips. "I do believe that's my cue. I'll catch you later, darling."

It was, of course, Sam. After introductions had been made, she liked him just fine, though it was readily apparent that she liked Dean better.

Crowley wasn't seen or heard from for a couple days, until one morning Dean would find him roused only a few minutes early by the alluring scent of coffee, and the warmth of someone sitting on the edge of his bed. Mary was in what had become her customary place curled up at Dean's side.

"Morning, sweetheart."

Well, of course she liked Dean better. Dean was cooler and she was a smart dog. He could already tell that much. She was more clever than Dean had ever given dogs credit for and she was still young. He was pretty sure his dog was going to take over the world, but she liked him, so it was probably okay.

At the sound of Crowley's voice, Dean groaned and curled closer to Mary.

"Me or the dog? 'Cause I don't think you can give coffee to dogs."

Yeah, the world after Mary took over would probably be pretty tolerable. Needless to say, they wouldn't have to worry about any idiotic Apocalypse nonsense.

"You, of course."

He dangled the cup of coffee nearer to Dean, a lift of an eyebrow. This was how one did things if you were playing by human rules, wasn't it? Or, well, close enough, anyway. Coffee in bed. That was something, at least. And also, Dean? Crowley totally notices that you're sleeping with Mary in your bed.

Dean stretched, blanket falling off of his bare chest. He was trying not to smile, really, but he couldn't help it. Waking up to coffee was pretty rare when you lived out of a car with your brother.

He sat up, careful not to disturb Mary too much, and leaned back against the headboard. There was nothing weird about letting your adorable puppy sleep in your bed. It was supposed to just be that first night, anyway, but it had somehow got extended a little.

He reached out for the coffee.

"So, what are you trying to get out of me?"

Crowley's eyes may have slipped to Dean's chest as he sat up, leaning back against the headboard and taking care not to disturb the little puppy curled up next to him in bed. Crowley was not going to be surprised when she was big enough to take up half the bed and Dean was still letting her sleep in his bed.

Crowley relinquished his grip on the coffee and eyed Dean curiously. He sipped at his own cup of coffee with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

It was a question that Crowley didn't exactly have an answer for. So he just settled for looking entirely unconcerned, instead.

"Just thought you could use it."

Slightly flirtacious glint in his dark eyes, however.

Dean was really too tired to notice the looking or the flirting. He hadn't slept well the night before and he really could use some good, hot coffee. The only thing that had kept him in the bed for most of the night was Mary sleeping next to him.

Still, he knew that Crowley didn't just do nice things and much as he liked Mary and the coffee, he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Half of him was almost scared Crowley was going to take the dog back and Dean had already started to think of her as his own. He's never had much to himself and she was really something special. She wasn't even bad in the car. She settled on the backseat every time they got in, occasionally sticking her face between the seats to see what they were doing if she got restless. He had to pull over more now, but he didn't really mind.

"Thanks."

He noticed Mary twitching and waking up and reached over to pet her gently. Yeah, he was a sucker for coffee and a sleepy puppy. Sue him.

Crowley reached over, petting the stirring dog as she leaned her head into Dean's hand. She was quite the sucker for affection, and while she liked Sam, it was already fairly clear that she was Dean's. Crowley had no intention of taking her away, not that he'd actually say that.

Crowley did have a certain capability for being nice, even if he did go to lengths to make sure that no one was aware of that. Seeing Dean with Mary was kind of encouraging that secretive side, not to mention his awkward interest in the man. He might be the one that was harder to deal with, but Crowley also thought he was more interesting.

And he did have some useful information, but, he was holding onto that for the moment.

"I should say you owe me a kiss for the coffee. That's how it works, isn't it?"

Dean sipped the coffee, eyeing Crowley warily. The last time he kissed a demon, he'd wound up in Hell a year later. Dean wouldn't go back there, not for anything short of Sam's life.

"Not happening, buddy, and not just 'cause your meat-suit is a dude. I'm not making any more deals."

Even if Mary was just about the cutest thing he'd ever seen, he wasn't getting roped into any more deals--not for all the coffee in the world.

"You can take the coffee back if that's what you're after."

"I wasn't talking about making a deal for your soul, moron."

Crowley rolled his eyes, looked at Dean as if he really was almost too slow to the party to even have a conversation with. He looked at Mary, scratching her ears as he mused on the oddity of the entire situation.

"The terms of the deal have to be disclosed before it can be sealed, you know. Elsewise, a kiss is just a kiss."

Admittedly it had been a few hundred years since he'd even attempted anything remotely like courtship, but he thought he remembered most of the basic points. He eyed Dean and waited to see if the hunter was ever going to catch up.

Unortunately for Crowley, Dean's pretty slow to the party even when he hasn't just woken up and the concept of Crowley wanting to kiss him was possibly more foreign than the idea of angels had been before he'd gone to Hell.

"So, then what are you playing at, here?"

But if his soul was safe, he was going to keep drinking the coffee and petting the dog. No sense letting Crowley's weirdness ruin what might be the most pleasant wake up he's had in years.

Crowley was going to sip at his coffee and ignore Dean's utter obliviousness for a moment as he let the warmth slide down his throat. It was actually good coffee, too. Not the crap that the Winchesters got at whatever local diner they happened to stumble into for breakfast.

"I thought this was still how humans expressed interest. Nice gestures for your intended, and if it was acceptable there was some sort of reciprocation."

Yes, Crowley was a few hundred years behind the times. He was trying, however. He actually looked almost puzzled, as if unsure that he wasn't somehow missing something important here.

Dean rolled his eyes, head falling back so that he was looking at the ceiling.

"Intended what? You're talking like some Victorian romance--" His eyes shot to Crowley's face. "No. No way. It is too early for this."

It was bad enough Dean had to put up with Cas making cow eyes at him half the time. At least Cas had no idea what he was doing. Crowley wasn't nearly that out of touch. Holy shit.

"So... the dog and the coffee? These are you trying to woo me?"

Dean didn't want to admit that it was probably the best wooing he'd had thrown at him.

"Shouldn't you be asking Sam for permission or something?"

Crowley wasn't that out of touch. Instead, he meant it. He really hadn't thought that he'd been particularly subtle about it, and so he found Dean's shock just a little bit exasperating. Just how obvious did he have to be, here?

"Yes, love."

He answered with a nod and a lifted eyebrow as he watched Dean and sipped at his coffee. Of course, he had had legitimate concerns about the man getting himself into trouble, and wanting to keep him safe from less pleasant demons, but he'd also thought that Dean might actually like her. He'd even made sure she knew to not chew on the Impala before hand.

A smirk grazed his lips at that question and he looked at Dean with a hint of amusement.

"I wasn't get the impression that you'd actually take his opinion under advisement."

Now he was teasing; mostly. It was more accurate to say that Crowley's attempts at keeping to cultural mores only extended to the individual in question.

"You know I'm not interested in dudes, right? Or demons."

He played with his coffee cup for a minute, then at Mary.

"And you can't have the dog back, either. She's very particular and no one else would know how to keep her happy."

That was entirely untrue. She was a pretty easygoing dog, even as a puppy, but Dean liked her and she wasn't going anywhere.

"Of course I wouldn't listen to Sam. He thinks dating demons is A-Okay."

Not that Dean was bitter or anything.

"I suppose I'll just have to change your mind. Danish?"

He was pulling a cherry danish from a small bakery bag; fresh made, not one of those prepackaged things on racks at gas stations.

Really, Dean's insisted-upon sexuality didn't fluster Crowley at all. For one thing, Crowley took an almost vengeful pleasure in dragging people out of their hetero-centric homophobic shells. For another, Dean didn't seem like that to him, at all. Dean might insist he was straight, but there was something in his green eyes, and the occasional curve of his lips that made Crowley think that he just wasn't quite as straight as he wanted to be.

Maybe it was wishful thinking. Maybe it wasn't.

"I gave her to you, darling. Just because you haven't agreed to kiss me yet, doesn't mean I'm going to take her away."

Really. That wasn't how the game went; it would be calling it over, and Crowley hardly intended to give up just because Dean had decided to state he wasn't interested.

That was how the first round of courting was supposed to go, wasn't it?

Yeah, that was usually how it went when Dean went after women. That wasn't really comforting, though, because he usually got those women to sleep with him eventually. Then again, he did have a very charming smile.

"I guess you're welcome to try."

He shrugged and reached for the danish. If puppies and coffee and pastries were how Crowley tried to win someone over, Dean was happy to be on the receiving end, even if he wasn't really interested in what Crowley was.

He scratched behind Mary's ear. He'd grown attached to her at an embarrassingly fast rate already. Sam was pretty annoyed that he'd gotten a dog without talking to him first, but it wasn't like he'd planned her and Sam was clearly just jealous, anyway.

Crowley was charming, in his own perverse sort of way. He relinquished the danish with a smile, glad that he'd had the foresight to buy two.

Pastries and morning coffee and Dean not being exceptionally frustrating was a delightful thing.

Mary was exceptionally fond of Dean, so at the least he wasn't alone in his attachments. Of course, part of that might have been something she'd picked up from Crowley, she was a smart little thing like that.

Perhaps the silence ought to have been awkward, but Crowley rather thought it was almost comfortable.

He was charming and the fact that Dean could admit that, even to himself, was unsettling. Crowley could be a real dick when he wanted to be, but he was also good at making people forget about it a minute later and making them forget he was even a demon at all.

Dean couldn't afford to let his guard down, so he just ate his danish and kept an eye on Crowley.

"So, should I expect this to happen again? Because I'm not sure how well Sam will actually react to you bringing me breakfast if you catch him in the room when you do it. I didn't really tell him that you gave me Mary."

Because she was clearly not evil. She was entirely too cute to be and he wasn't going to let Sam put her through tests to prove it.

"I do have the sense to try and time my visits to avoid your brother, you know."

Crowley commented with a hint of amusement. It wasn't that he was afraid of Sam or any such nonsense, merely that he thought that flirting with Dean would not go as well if Sam was around. Of course, he was the smarter one, and might have pointed out what was going on before Crowley had been obliged to spell it out for Dean.

"But, yes. I do like stopping in to check on you. I do intend to do so again."

He reached over and pet Mary, who greedily lapped the remnants of sugary icing from his fingertips. She even shot him a look with her yellow eyes, as if she was offended that Crowley hadn't brought her something.

Mary wasn't entirely evil. She'd pass the tests, for the most parts; iron and salt didn't stop her, she just didn't like them. It was uncomfortable like being sprayed with water.

He finished his coffee and left the empty cup sitting on Dean's bedside table. He leaned in close, voice a low whisper against his ear.

"There used to be a rose garden out behind the house at 2330 Roslin Drive. Do be careful, mm, love?"

Hadn't the entry in the town records Sam had unearthed said something about beneath the roses? Crowley was being helpful, it seemed... but maybe it was just to distract Dean before he leaned in a pressed a kiss to his mouth. A tempting whisper of warm, soft lips and a flick of a tongue that stole the errant taste of cherries.

And then Crowley was gone, leaving Dean alone with his puppy.

Alone with his puppy and about a million questions, maybe. He'd had no time to react and his lips were still tingling. After a minute, he looked down at Mary.

"I have no idea what that was. Do you?"

Her answer was less-than-helpful, but he couldn't really hold it against her. He gave her the last tiny bite of his pastry and pet her.

"At least I get you out of it, though, huh? You're worth putting up with a crazy demon who probably doesn't want me dead."

Then he remembered what Crowley had said about the roses. He finished his coffee and got dressed before taking Mary out for a quick walk and leaving her food and water. Crowley might have just saved them days of work on this case.

In the end, Crowley's information had saved Dean from a broken leg and a dead brother. He would have to actually thank the guy next time he popped up.

He found that having a puppy excited to see him when he got back made hunting a little less weary. Instead of coming back to a sterile motel room and passing out, he came back to a dog that needed a quick walk and a ton of attention. She would jump on him for a few minutes and then they would settle on his bed and he would pet her until he fell asleep. Sam kept teasing him about it, but Sam was just jealous.

It was a few days before Crowley appeared again. Sam had just left, which was turning out to be something of a cue for his intermittent visits. Mary betraying his arrival with a small bark and an eager wag of her tail just before he appeared leaning back against a dresser, a small basket of muffins dangling from one wrist.

He brought coffee again, though his eyes first made a trek over Dean's body, looking for injuries. And there was a faint curve of his lips into a smile when Dean didn't look too much the worse for wear.

"Morning, darling."

And then he was sauntering over to sit on the edge of the hunter's bed with a smile.

Dean groaned. He was already awake, but he wasn't awake enough to be ready to face Crowley, not that he thought he would ever be awake enough after he'd kissed Dean. He did perk up a little when he noticed the smell of coffee, though.

"Thanks, uh... for that heads up with the flowers. We were totally off-base on that hunt."

That was about all he could make himself say on the matter. He wasn't going to get emotional and talk about how Crowley had probably saved Sam's life. Crowley could just figure that out or whatever.

Dean wrangled Mary gently and pulled her into his lap.

"Yes, well, I can't have you morons running off and getting yourself killed, now can I? Coffee?"

There was a tinge of affection to the almost dismissive way that Crowley called them morons. He did worry about the Winchesters in his own way. Sam might not be quite as interesting as Dean, but he didn't want him turning up dead, either. He held one of the two cups of coffee in Dean's direction rather temptingly.

And there was the smell of blueberry muffins from the small basket -- still warm. Usually his adventures into baking involved more grisly ingredients, but that had a lot to do with the sort of creatures that he usually found himself baking for.

Dean took the coffee with one hand, the other still on Mary.

"Tell me you didn't bake those."

This was too much. Dean could barely wrap his brain around the kiss and now Crowley was bringing him muffins. This was just not happening. He was dreaming. A djinn? No, he wouldn't wish for this. A really twisted djinn?

Whatever, he can't remember the last time he had a warm muffin.

He lifted an eyebrow at Dean's statement as he relinquishes his grasp on one cup of coffee and sips carefully at the other. Yes, he did bake them, Dean. He can bake, you know. Quite well, even. He'd even found some fresh blueberries just for the occasion. Busy dodging Hell, and yet he still manages to find the time to make muffins.

He actually enjoyed baking; it was simple and calming and the end result was always gratifying. He rolled his eyes at Dean's commentary and just held the basket in his direction.

"Just have a muffin."

Dean took his hand off of Mary to grab one. She lifted her head, look somewhere between questioning and annoyed, but he'd give her a little piece without any blueberries later, so he figured she'd understand.

He took a bite and it was actually... well, it was really good. Who would have thought that demons could bake? No one's baked anything for Dean since he was a little kid, back before his mom died. He's had some fresh-baked thing, but never things that were baked for him.

He smiled, even if he didn't really want to. He was starting to forget why he should be discouraging Crowley at all.

Crowley grabbed one of the muffins himself, smiling as he nibbled at it. Mostly, he was enjoying the way that Dean was smiling despite himself. There was that old saying about the way to a man's heart being through his stomach... At least in his day it had always seemed rather apt; it was hard to resist the draw of homecooked things.

The muffins really were good, even if he did say so himself (not like Crowley was known for being modest, here).

"What do you think?"

He leaned in a little uncomfortably close, a slow blink of his dark eyes, peering into Dean's greens. He really was tempted to kiss him again, but that would be too easy, and so he simply lingered, uncomfortably close but not trying anything.

Yet, anyway.

Dean wasn't sure if it was the fact that it was fresh and warm or the fact that they were made for him or something else entirely, but it really was a good muffin as far as he could tell.

"It's good. I wouldn't have pegged you as the baking type."

Did Crowley have to sit so close? God damn, he's just right there. Was he going to kiss Dean again? Dean wasn't even sure how to feel about that. He didn't really want him to, per se, but the idea didn't bother him as much as it probably should have.

Crowley shrugged his shoulders, a smile curving his lips and he licked at some errant crumbs. His dark eyes glinting with that flirtatious sort of interest as they watched Dean's greens.

"It's a hobby."

He admitted with an arch of an eyebrow, still sitting close to the hunter. It was the sort of thing that one might expect from Cas rather than Crowley; Crowley understood things like boundaries and personal space. But, with Dean he had a tendency to disregard those things because it was intentional, because he meant it, because he wanted to be in his space, because he wanted to push him and see if he'd push back.

He wasn't, at least not yet, and Crowley thought that he liked what that said.

Dean's eyes darted to Crowley's mouth. He wasn't stupid. He knew why Crowley was sitting so close. He wasn't going to give the demon the satisfaction of knowing how uncomfortable he was.

He leaned back, sharing a tiny piece with Mary and trying to focus on her and not on the demon who was doing a great impression of Cas.

"Well... you're good at it, I guess."

Not that Dean had a lot of home-made baked good to compare it to.

For righteous_bro

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