Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

The Better Deal You Give the Customer	By : ChaosK23 Category: Supernatural > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2214 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Better Deal You Give the Customer
- 1
If the hunter only a few tens of feet in front of him knew he was there- or the reason for that matter- he might be surprised. But of course, someone as arrogant and hard-to-handle as John Winchester wouldn't let an emotion such as shock overcome his face easily, not with an enemy present. The demon watches silently as a desperate man kneels down and begins setting up the ritual for summoning demons- he becomes even more intrigued. Once upon a time, in a land and era much farther away than this one, Azazel had been in John Winchester's shoes. Had summoned demons to take care of the things in his life he should have, had he been a better or more powerful man at the time, done himself. He can almost recall the feeling of fright gripping every surface, crease, and cell of his body at the possibility that anything might change for the worst in his life.
He does, however, distinctly remember when he became interested in the Winchester family. The fight he had in 1973 with one gutsy blond in some other girl's house who was virtually irrelevant now. Now there was a girl with spunk. He had told her time-bending son at the time that he would've liked to do unspeakable things to his mother, but he only wanted to get a rise out of the boy. Azazel may appreciate a woman's spirit or body once in a while, but the demon has a clear taste in men, even while he was a human.
Which, he supposes, is why he is down in here hiding his presence in some godforsaken boiler room, truth be told. At first, he tried to convince himself that it was simply a mere fascination, an admiration of the man's near disregard for life in the weeks after his wife's death. The demon had observed with great delight when John uprooted his children from their childhood home and went on a monster killing spree. Once the human had begun making friends though, Azazel should have either taken them out, or have ceased to stalk the Winchesters. But he couldn't bring himself to tear his interest away from the family, specifically the man, doing whatever they could to climb out of their despair- it would remind him of the familiarity in the human spirit if his memories of such twaddle not been corroded by the centuries.
John, by this time, has finished the chalk symbol, and placed several candles and a black bowl around it, beginning a chant in Latin. He slides a knife across his palm, drawing blood and dripping it into the bowl. Lighting a match he drops it in; the sand in the bowl flaring in a moment's time and dying just as quick. John stands then, looking around for the yellow-eyed he has just summoned.
Showtime.
Azazel finds a suitable host quickly, a janitor whose biggest accomplishment in life is maintaining a tightly knit household and being the saddest goody-two-shoes Azazel has known in a while, and reaches out its hand to grab John's shoulder. "What the hell are you doing down here, buddy?" He can feel the other man's muscles tightening under his stern grasp. While in possession of John's body the previous couple of days, he took time to admire the meat suit while the human slept within the confines of his subconscious, and has to admit- the man was good-looking for a mud monkey.
"I can explain." John tells his vessel, and the demon feels the thrill of the familiar chase between humans and demons conversing before the storm. But now he is about to do so with John Winchester; he knows this particular discussion (or lack thereof, whichever came first), will be interesting to say the least.
"Yeah? You're going to explain to security. Come on. You follow me." With that he turns, counting eagerly down the seconds ticking away before John halts him- he gets to two and stops, hearing the cocking of a gun behind his head.
"Hey. How stupid do you think I am?"
He shifts to find a smirk playing in the man's lips and, handsome or no he would not be made a fool of by a mere child compared to him in the scheme of things. "You really want an honest answer to that?" His own cocksure grin is bordering on sensual, but what the hell? He's feeling a bit flirty today- why not use it on someone he himself had made a widower? He takes a small bit of pride out of John's light deflation, and maintains eye contact with him as two expendable lackeys from the pit flank John. "You conjuring me, John? I'm surprised. I took for a lot of things. But suicidally reckless wasn't one of them."
"I could always shoot you." John counters, and Azazel can sense John growing slightly tired of scornful laughs at his expense. But of course, the demon never let his favorite prey get away that easily before, and he certainly wouldn't begin now.
"You could always miss." He jests, and chuckles lightly at the memory of the youngest Winchester male firing a failed bullet because Azazel was faster. He even demonstrates this fact to the hunter by jokingly half-dodging an invisible bullet. Time to get down to business with John, though. "And you've only got one try, doncha? Did you really think you could trap me?" These are the kinds of treasures Azazel loves most and believes can't be sold at even the greatest auctions in the world.
"Oh, I don't want to trap you." What? To say the demon is surprised to see John Winchester, hunter all of things supernatural no matter how great or small, lowering one of the few weapons in the universe powerful enough to do it for him, is no small statement. He certainly does not expect this- John is more interesting than he previously suspected. "I want to make a deal." Azazel's intrigue is piqued now.
Standing around the summoning symbol, the demon says evenly, "It's very unseemly, making deals with devils. How do I know this isn't just another trick?" This night and the circumstances flowing through it are getting more and more delicious with every passing moment. His vessel's heart begins to beat slightly faster at the notion of making a deal with John Winchester, John Winchester going to Hell for eternity, John Winchester's soul belonging to him. It’s all too wonderful to believe.
"It's no trick." The man before him reassures his tingling nerves. Azazel attempts to calm himself-the last thing he needs is John thinking that this deal means too much to the demon. "I will give you the Colt and the bullet, but you've got to help Dean. You've got to bring him back." How fucking predictable. He can ask Azazel for anything in the world and he asks for Dean. How unbelievably human. It was no matter though, he supposes, after all he has (had?) children of his own.
"Why, John, you're a sentimentalist." The yellow-eyed demon hides his annoyance in a mask of smirks and more jests at John. He didn't mind doing so though- John gets the prettiest flash of defiance and anger in his eyes whenever his family is brought up by anything of the supernatural. It’s always been one of his charms in the demon's not-so-humble opinion. "If only your boys knew how much their daddy loved them." Of course, his words also hold a double-meaning, a reluctance to accept John's part of the deal so easily- something he is sure the experienced hunter will catch onto.
"It's a good trade." Bingo. "You care a hell of a lot more about this gun than you do Dean."
That grates on Azazel's already fraying patience; Dean exorcised and killed his children after all. "Don't be so sure. He killed some people very special to me." Weighing the pros and cons of this deal, however, has him reconsidering his anger. "But you're right; he isn't much of a threat." He allows himself a sly expression, much like a cat playing with a bird within its grasp. "And neither is your other son, of course." There it is; that looked of cursed, undeniable, unwanted knowledge of what his son was turned into. "You know the truth, right? About Sammy? And the other children?"
John's jaw sets itself, anger for his children building transparently within him. "Yeah." He states quickly enough to move this conversation along, but he’s reluctant to give up to much more information that has nothing to do with the deal at hand- Azazel can read it all in his pathetically illustrated face. "I've known for a while."
"But Sam doesn't, does he?" The demon asserts with immense glee in John's irritation. "You've been playing dumb." He knows he’s pushed John far enough when his eyes flash brighter, and he speaks in a low, threatening tone through nearly gritted teeth.
"Can you bring Dean back? Yes or no?"
"No." Azazel continues to milk John's misery as much as he can, not to mention John’s condition really is out of his own powers. However, he doesn't want the other male walking away from this deal- he still wants that gun. "But I know someone who can. It's not a problem." He doesn't mention the fact that the "helper" in his thoughts is a reaper currently in the hospital, or that this particular reaper is after John's eldest boy.
"Good. Before I give you the gun, I'm going to want to make sure that Dean's okay. With my own eyes." John makes sure to look the demon in his unusually yellow orbs, conveying the warning through his own deep green ones.
"Oh," Azazel feigns hurt. "John, I'm offended. Don't you trust me?" John maintains eye contact while tilting his head downward, giving a look the demon knows too well as snarky suspicion. "Fine." He relents, letting John initiate the process of finishing off this deal.
"So we have a deal?" The demon doesn't like the fact that John is beginning to let his guard down in that hope’s sneaking into his voice.
"No, John," he begins with an angered tone of his own, as if it should be obvious to the hunter that he isn't going to get off that easily. And to Azazel it is obvious. "Not yet. You still need to sweeten the pot." His own sickening orbs flash, not with rage but with power and wicked amusement.
"With what?" It’s clear that John is confused now and trying to conceal it, had thought that all his Dean problems could be solved with the Colt and the bullet. ‘He’s almost sweet in his naivety,’ Azazel thinks.
"There's something else I want, as much as that gun. Maybe more." He walks closer; his smile becomes that much more predatory, that much more sadistic, and he watches as John shifts uncomfortably before him. "Now, John, don't you want to save your baby boy…?"
John looks up then, defiance burning green fire in his eyes, but soon enough he manages to blink it away. He needs to save his son, Azazel knows, and will do virtually anything to do so. Slinking up ever closer like a graceful cat crossbred with a sinning snake, he placed his host's arms surprisingly gently on John's broader shoulders. At first the hunter tenses, and very nearly flinches away, but then he remembers his son, dying on one of the upper floors, and he tightly grabs the possessed janitor's back hairs, yanking the demon into a stiff embrace. Azazel has had better, more passionate kisses in his lifetime (afterlife time?) but somehow they pale in comparison to the thought of John Winchester, biggest thorn in his ass for the first time in many centuries, finally belonging to him. Anything, everything the demon asks of him will have to be fulfilled by the dark-haired man, and Azazel shivers at the ideas crossing his mind.
The hunter-extraordinaire pulls away a little too quickly for Azazel's liking, he was just beginning to get into it, and wipes him mouth instantly afterward. The demon gives his most sincerely evil curl of the lips and says with great weight to his words, "nice doing business with you, John." And then he disappears, leaving John to hope against hope that he made the right decision.

Azazel arrives in time to see the eldest Winchester Boy-Idiotic-Wonder turning toward his reaper with a look of acceptance and defeat- looks like he got to the scene right on time. The lights flicker as he begins to pour his black ichor through the ventilation system.
"What the hell?" He hears the life-sized Ken doll ask incredibly. Azazel ignores him though for now, in favor of the reaper who seems to know all too well why he is here.
"You can't do this! Get away!" She screams as he pours into her mouth.
"What's happening?!" The other in the room asks like a fricking moron. Honestly; Azazel needs to speak with John about whether or not this one is worth saving. What a dumbass. He's always wondered why the kid would rather hunt than go to school and now he knows the reason- it’s the one thing he is nearly adequate at, and even that statement has a question mark at the end. But he'll hold up his end, he guesses, and laugh about with John later.
For now he only turns. "Today's your lucky day, kid." He places a hand on Dean the Dumbass's head, watching the boy convulse and return forcefully to his body. He won't remember anything about his encounter with the reaper or the demon, but that hardly matters to Azazel as he goes to find John's room. He’ll wait for his prize there.

Ten minutes later, John walks heavily into his hospital room and immediately notices Azazel, inside his re-found vessel, perched upon his bed. He looks slightly annoyed as he full took in the scene. "Couldn't bear to wait somewhere else; have you been here the entire time?"
"Oh, John," Azazel states with feigned innocence. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be." He bats "his" eyelashes for emphasis. John rolls his eyes at the demon's obvious excitement for the result of this entire situation. He walks further into the room, placing the Colt on the small bedside table by Azazel.
"Okay." Is all the hunter says after an almost invisible sigh. Azazel takes John’s soul from his body, and brings it to his "sanctuary' of sorts in Hell for safe-keeping against Alastair. He may be the temporary King of Hell, but it is still unorthodox for a demon to acquire a human soul and then not bring it to be tortured by the High Inquisitor. But he has his owns plans for the oldest Winchester male- he just doesn't want to have to answer any questions.
He journeys back to the surface, hiding his presence once more to watch the spectacle that was surely happening in John's hospital room. He makes it there with enough time to hear the inevitable, the beautiful lyrics that ring in his ears long after he returns to Hell. The torrent of emotions on Sam and Dean Winchester's faces are just icing on his cake at that point.
"I'll call it. Time of death: 10:41 am."
- 1
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Better Deal You Give the Customer