Like Cats and Dogs

Chapter 28

Crowley is a simple man, with simple needs. He needs a nice cup of tea to start his day. He needs his cuffs pressed just so. He needs his office clean and his pencils in straight lines. But most of all, he needs the scrambling ants beneath his feet to remember their place in his world.

Really, he's not asking for a lot.

For the most part, everything in Crowley's life works. If anything ceases to work for him, he removes it. It's a simple system. His last bird, for example, that infernal, noisy Macaw. It didn't work for him, so now he has a sharp-beaked, sleek looking, and most importantly quiet hawk in its place. He trained this one well.

So when Crowley's assistant—one of them, at least—hands him the photo that is currently in his hands, pinched between his thumb and forefinger, he isn't happy. That moronic werewolf and his even more idiotic mate. How utterly terrible.

"What should we do, sir?"

Crowley sighs. This one is an moron, above all the rest. He drops the pictures, tired of staring at them. It's nauseating.

"Punish them." He sounds bored. He is bored. Dealing with trivial issues like this is beneath him. He has more important business to attend to, more important sales to make.

"Both of them?"

He rolls his eyes so hard they almost get stuck that way. How this useless lump ended up in his office, he'll never know.

"Yes, you bumbling idiot. Both of them."

***

Dean isn't even fully awake before he decides that this? This is the life. Cas is warm and snuggled against his chest, one arm flung across Dean's hips and his mouth hanging open as he drools lightly on Dean's bare skin. He definitely doesn't think it's cute.

Shifting as little as possible, his arms curl tighter around Cas, Dean's hand smoothing down Cas' spine. A grumbling noise starts up in Cas' chest when Dean presses a kiss to his forehead, using his palm to push his unruly hair out of the way.

"Mornin'," Dean chuckles, the grumpy pout on his mate's face making his chest tight with happiness. Cas' frown deepens and he tries his best to bury himself in the blankets.

"Not morning. Too early."

Dean pries the blanket out of Cas' clenched fingers, pulling it over both their heads. It's still pitch black in his room, and he didn't bother to glance at the clock, but the shelter of the blanket over them manages to coax Cas' eyes open.

"You sure about that?" Dean murmurs, nosing at Cas' jaw and scenting him lazily. He smells kind of annoyed, but Dean can also smell the warm curl of his arousal and slick in the heated air around them.

"I could possibly be convinced," Cas sighs sleepily, dragging a hand across Dean's ribs and tilting his chin up to allow Dean free access to his throat.

Dean takes it as the invitation that it is, mouthing at the tendons of Cas' neck and licking his way across the sensitive skin. He feels the slightly raised bite scar with his tongue, grinning at the way Cas' shivers when he fits his mouth over it.

"Am I convincing you?" Dean rumbles low in his throat, slotting their lips together and pushing a hand through Cas' hair to cup the back of his neck. Cas lets out a quiet moan and rolls his hips against Dean's body, showing off just how convincing Dean really is.

"It's a start. You could try harder," he hums calmly, but Dean can hear the challenge in his voice.

"You got it," Dean smirks with a wolfish grin, capturing Cas' lips one more time before moving away.