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Crowley is an indulgent thing, and not particularly in the manner that his former bosses would encourage.
Crowley is an indulgent thing in that he is willing to do anything and everything to give Aziraphale the world, because his beloved deserves nothing less.
He has been indulging the Angel since before he was even allowed to think of him as beloved; before he’d even realised he was doing it. Taking note of the little Earthly comforts Aziraphale delights in and then looking for any excuse to give them to him became second nature as easily as breathing*.
(* Breathing hadn’t been easy when he was first issued his body, being both an unnecessary and conscious effort. But you can’t go a few thousand years without getting the hang of something.)
And Crowley has never put a limit on it. Treating Aziraphale to fine dining and antique books. Tickets to Sondheim first nights and freebie miracles.
Bloody Hamlet.
It was - is - worth it, every blessed time. The pretty smiles these acts win him, the way Aziraphale lights up with genuine pleasure, and the demure but heartfelt ‘thank you’s and ‘my dear’s that fall effortlessly from those alluring lips - Crowley has collected them all like treasured prizes, clutching every scrap of affection he could wring out of the Angel jealously to his heart.
Then there were the more clandestine meetings in dark places. Crowley had indulged Aziraphale then too, making a mess of him in whichever manner Aziraphale liked best. The way he cried out Crowley’s name* was what he took away from those trysts, to revisit on cold lonely nights until their next meeting.
(* Even before Aziraphale showed Crowley his true feelings, it was that what made Crowley suspect - hope, really, like the optimistic thing he was - for several centuries that maybe, just maybe, the Angel felt the same way.)
Now, in a world set upon a fresh path in the wake of an Armageddon that never came to pass, there is nothing to stop Crowley from holding back. Nothing to stop him from loving Aziraphale openly and out loud, in their dalliances outside in the human world - and their dalliances in the privacy of their own homes.
He is greedy, almost, in the way he showers his attentions on Aziraphale, drunk on this newfound freedom. He knows Aziraphale so well, his soft supple body committed to memory from their secret meetings dating back some two thousand years. But now that there is no fear, no rush, Crowley can take his time picking Aziraphale apart.
There are still nuances to discover, new ways to make Aziraphale moan in that delicious, obscene way that drives Crowley crazy. And Crowley takes every single advantage that presents itself to him.
He knows he’s not alone in enjoying this, the frankly ridiculous amounts of foreplay they revel in and the sweet love-making that follows. When they collapse together afterwords, he takes extra care of Aziraphale, making up for all the centuries he wasn’t allowed to do so before. He cleans up his Angel without miracles and soothes away any soreness; he wants none of that for Aziraphale. Only pleasure and comfort.
Until the day Aziraphale decides he doesn’t always want that.
Crowley doesn’t see it coming. Not really. He’s always known Aziraphale likes it a little rough, and it’s not like Crowley doesn’t deliver when the Angel wants it. But on that particular night a few weeks after the world did not end, there is nothing about their date at the Ritz that hints at what is to come when they stumble into Aziraphale’s upstairs flat later, exchanging heated kisses as they clumsily grope their way to the bed.
‘I don’t want you to stop,’ is the first thing Aziraphale says, right after he comes down Crowley’s throat.
Crowley pulls his mouth off Aziraphale’s pulsing cock, licking his lips as he looks up in surprise from where he is on his front between Aziraphale’s legs. The Angel is still trembling from his orgasm, reclining nude against the pillows* Crowley had stubbornly added to Aziraphale’s sparse bed after they officially moved their bedroom activities to the, well, bedroom.**
(* Tartan, of course, to match Aziraphale’s predictably patterned sheets. Let it not be said that Crowley isn’t an indulgent lover in every department, regardless of his partner’s questionable tastes.
** Aziraphale finally found a use for his previously unused flat when he decided after Armageddon that proper love-making requires proper beds. But he prefers being in Crowley’s, he’d said once, because ‘I love being surrounded by you in every possible way when we make love.’
Considering they’d been in Crowley’s bed at that moment, with him balls deep in Aziraphale, the confession made him come almost immediately. Aziraphale had laughed off Crowley’s embarrassment, and Crowley made it up to him by sitting on the Angel’s cock.)
‘What d’you mean?’ Crowley asks, his voice hoarse from how fervently he’d been deep-throating Aziraphale.
It’s the result of having been steadily driven mad with want during dessert earlier, when Aziraphale deliberately devoured an apple tart with lewd moans that had Crowley scrambling for miracles - one to block out the humans within hearing distance, and another to hide his prominently tented jeans. He’d considered throwing Aziraphale into the backseat of his Bentley when they exited the Ritz and sucking him off right there; but he was forced to stretch his patience when the Angel stopped him with a promising whisper of, ‘Take me home, darling.’
Sprawled across his mountain of pillows now, Aziraphale looks wrecked already, his face fetchingly flushed and his chest rising and falling rapidly. Crowley feels a flare of pride, shivering a little at the thought that he has done that to Aziraphale; that he is now allowed to do that to Aziraphale as many times as he wants.
Or rather, as many times as Aziraphale wants clearly, because he’s saying again, ‘I don’t want you to stop. Please.’
Crowley presses his lips softly to the tip of Aziraphale’s cock, which is already beginning to soften. ‘Stop what? D’you want me to suck you again?’
He’s not against it at all. He’s not against anything Aziraphale wants to do, really, and being an ethereal and occult being, they are not entirely bound to the limits of human stamina. It’s just that Aziraphale is not the sort to immediately jump into round two; since the day Aziraphale stopped leaving his bed after sex, Crowley has found that his Angel enjoys basking in the post-coital glow before they get up to anything else.
But tonight, Aziraphale is shaking his head. His face still appears dazed and blissed out, but his eyes are heated as he takes in Crowley sprawled between his legs.
‘Not - not exactly. I mean, I’m not averse to the idea, I’m certain I can get it up again in a jiffy, but -’
‘Aziraphale,’ Crowley interrupts gently, sensing a meandering ramble and deciding to nip it in the bud. ‘Just … tell me. You want something specific. You can tell me, whatever it is.’
Aziraphale’s face is red but this time it has nothing to do with what they’d just been doing. ‘I…’ He clears his throat and slowly licks his lips. ‘I want … I want you to - ah …’
‘Hmm?’ Crowley smooths his palms up Aziraphale’s thighs, running his fingers through the downy hair. He repeats the action in what he hopes is a soothing manner, keeping his eyes on Aziraphale’s but carefully hiding his growing surprise.
Even before Armageddon, Aziraphale has never been shy with pursuing what he wants from Crowley in bed. This hesitation tonight is rather novel and Crowley just barely stops himself from asking something stupid like, Is it something kinky?*
(* Even if it was, Crowley doubts Aziraphale would be too embarrassed to get that across. He has, after all, a very vivid memory of a finely dressed Aziraphale all chained up in a Parisian jail cell, who practically begged to be used as Crowley saw fit during his ‘rescue’.
And an even older memory of a rare female-presenting Aziraphale, then a Gentlewoman of Her Majesty Queen Anne’s Bedchamber. She had demanded in all but words that Crowley rip open her bodice and pin her hands above her head as he took her against a wall, just a corridor over from the queen’s personal quarters.
Oh, Aziraphale is most definitely not shy about getting what he wants.)
Instead, he guides Aziraphale towards more familiar territory with a whispered, ‘Yeah, tell me what you want, angel.’
Even after all this time, those words make Aziraphale shiver. Crowley can’t hide his pleased smile, which freezes on his face when Aziraphale blurts,
‘Fuck me again like it’s our last time.’
Crowley almost chokes. ‘W-what?!’
Blushing, Aziraphale exhales. ‘Like … like that night in ’41. Remember?’
Crowley doesn’t answer, staring up at him in quiet shock.
‘You … we … we made love for hours that night. We didn’t stop until -’
‘Morning,’ Crowley finishes quietly. ‘’Course I remember, angel.’
How could he forget? His cheeks grow warm as he recalls being wrapped up in Aziraphale in the bookshop. Make it last, Aziraphale had pleaded and Crowley, like always, obliged, bringing both of them to the brink again and again as he tried to make every second count of the one night he’d been allowed to love his Angel. Until Armageddon, that is.
‘We…’ Aziraphale bites his lip. ‘That was the only night we’ve ever … like that.’
‘Understandable, that, since we both thought it was our only chance,’ Crowley says carefully. He’s beginning to see where Aziraphale is going with this.
True to his guess, Aziraphale says, ‘I want that again.’ Ignoring the hitch in Crowley’s breath, Aziraphale rushes, ‘I want to, oh, Crowley, I want you to make love to me like it’s our one and only chance again.’
‘Aziraphale,’ Crowley breathes.
‘Please.’ Aziraphale’s voice is almost a whisper. ‘I want you. I want you all the time. I want you the way I had you that night, but I could never stay with you -’
‘You do, now,’ Crowley interrupts. Going up on his hands and knees, he crawls up to press a sweet kiss to his lips. Aziraphale immediately deepens it, winding his fingers through Crowley’s hair and they kiss heatedly for several seconds before Crowley gently breaks away.
‘We have all that now,’ he reminds Aziraphale. ‘You stay with me. We’re both staying. You have me, angel. Always.’
‘I regret not being able to, before,’ Aziraphale replies, his voice cracking a little. ‘Thousands of years, Crowley … I always left you after -’
Crowley silences him with another kiss. ‘It’s all right. We’re free now. We have all the time in the world.’
‘We do … and I don’t want to waste a moment of it.’ His blue eyes are blazing again. ‘Please, Crowley, would you? Do you want to?’
Crowley’s lips twitch, a hint of mischief stitching through his smile. ‘Tsk. If you don’t know by now that I’m always up for whatever you like -’
‘Crowley…’ Aziraphale drags his name out, frustrated.
‘But first, I’d just like to remind you,’ Crowley looks pointedly at him, ‘how long till you could walk properly again after that night?’
The colour that blooms on Aziraphale’s cheeks is the rosiest shade of pink, but there is nothing rosy in his words as he growls, ‘I ached for days, darling, and that’s exactly what I want. Make me feel you, Crowley. I want every step I take for the next week to remind me of you.’
Crowley makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. ‘Ngk. Azira - unh … y-you can’t just say things like that!’
‘I agree, we’re talking too much. Now would you fuck me already, darling?’
Crowley hisses under his breath. ‘You’re unbelievable.’ But he can’t hide the fondness that saturates his voice and Aziraphale hums in pleasure when Crowley leans down to kiss his neck, letting his weight settle on top of Aziraphale’s body.
Aziraphale’s neck and throat already bear the marks of Crowley’s mouth from earlier tonight, when he’d pounced on the Angel as soon as they were inside the bookshop. He drags his tongue over the bruises, greedily sucking kisses over them and revelling in the fact that he doesn’t have to worry about accidentally leaving love bites where others can see them.
He can show them off to the whole damn world now, Heaven and Hell be blessed.
‘Crowley,’ Aziraphale says breathily as Crowley’s wandering lips close about his Adam’s apple. Aziraphale swallows and Crowley smiles at the way his throat bobs under his mouth.
Aziraphale makes little shuddering sounds as Crowley lightly bites his way down his throat, pausing to drag his tongue over his clavicle, and then further down to kiss his nipples. The Angel’s reaction is instantaneous, his mouth falling open on a moan. Crowley chuckles low in his throat and teases the hardened nubs some more with his tongue and fingers. He is always tempted to spend hours doing this, Aziraphale has such deliciously sensitive nipples, but Crowley has a goal in mind for now and, with a biting suck, wordlessly promises to return to Aziraphale’s chest later.
Splaying his fingers to feel along Aziraphale’s sides, Crowley drags his lips down over the swell of the Angel’s stomach, taking a detour to nip at the soft flesh over his right hipbone. Aziraphale’s hips jolt and Crowley smiles against his skin, before turning to nose at Aziraphale’s cock, which is stirring again with interest.
‘Eager again so soon, hmm?’ Crowley says, letting his hot breath waft over Aziraphale’s head. He flicks his tongue out, just grazing at the slit, and Aziraphale shudders in response. Licking his lips in anticipation, Crowley is about to take Aziraphale’s length in his mouth again when the Angel suddenly stops him, a gentle hand in his hair.
‘Wait,’ Aziraphale says, still breathing hard from Crowley’s attentions. ‘I want - would you mind terribly if I changed my, ah, effort?’
Crowley raises his eyebrows. This is definitely new. He’d thought he’s had Aziraphale in every imaginable way, but never before has either of them swapped out genitals in the middle of fucking.
‘Really?’
Aziraphale’s face falls. ‘I mean, if you’d rather not -’
‘No, angel, I - I don’t mind. I’m just … surprised.’
‘It is rather different, I suppose,’ says Aziraphale. ‘But since we just did this’ - he gestures somewhat self-consciously at his cock - ‘I’d like to, erm, save it for later, in a sense.’
Crowley smiles lazily up at him, amused and endeared all at once. ‘’Course. Whatever you like.’
‘You always indulge me so,’ Aziraphale murmurs, his face pinking again. Then, with a flick of his hand, his half-hard cock vanishes and a plump cunt takes its place.
Lying between Aziraphale’s legs as he is, the change occurs right in front of Crowley’s eyes and he makes a wanton sound as he takes in the thick, pink folds of Aziraphale’s pretty cunt. Cock, pussy, it doesn’t matter what Aziraphale manifests; Crowley is always hungry for him and he buries his face between Aziraphale’s legs without further ado.
Aziraphale makes a choked sound. ’T-that’s -! I … oh, C-Crowley, I …’
Tonguing greedily at his soft, velvet folds, Crowley gazes up at Aziraphale from under his lashes. ‘Hmm?’ He pulls off with a filthy, slurping sound. ‘Something the matter, angel?’
Aziraphale exhales, his breath stuttering. ‘I - I was hoping you would just -’
‘Fuck you?’ Crowley finishes. Licking up another wet stripe over Aziraphale’s core, just light enough to keep his labia from parting, Crowley hisses, ‘Oh, I’ll fuck you, angel. As many times as you want. But you can’t present me with a goddamned feast and expect me to not taste.’
The full-bodied shiver this evokes in Aziraphale makes Crowley grin, flashing his teeth.
‘Lie back, angel,’ he croons, voice low and dark with promise. Winding his arms around Aziraphale’s thick thighs, Crowley heaves them over his shoulders. ‘You just lay right there and let me take care of you.’
Aziraphale whimpers and relaxes back into the pillows as Crowley presses the pads of his fingers into the soft flesh on his hipbones. He sucks kisses over and around Aziraphale’s lips, laving his tongue generously over the soft skin before gently pressing in.
The Angel’s lips part for him and Crowley groans at the burst of familiar flavour as his tongue is welcomed into Aziraphale’s slick heat. Above him, Aziraphale is moaning, eyes closed and head thrown back over the pillows as Crowley slowly retracts his tongue and then pushes in again, steadily licking deeper and deeper into his pussy. When the whole length of his tongue is buried in Aziraphale, Crowley pauses just to enjoy the taste of his juices and the warm, wet feel of him.
Whining, Aziraphale tries to buck his hips but Crowley tightens his hold to keep him still. Slowly, he begins to twist his long tongue inside Aziraphale, just a tease with a few simple moves at first, and then increasingly intense as his movements become more inhuman, undulating and massaging along Aziraphale’s slick walls until the Angel is crying out.
‘C-Crowley! Oh, ohh, Crow - oh, God!’
Crowley shivers. It’s not often he can get Aziraphale to blaspheme in bed, but every time it happens leaves him impossibly aroused and single-mindedly determined to wring more of that out of Aziraphale. Without letting up the sinuous manoeuvres of his tongue, Crowley begins to bob his head, properly fucking Aziraphale with his mouth and picking up his pace as the Angel wails louder.
He keeps his eyes open, drinking in the way Aziraphale arches his back and thrashes on the bed. Fisting his hands into the sheets, Aziraphale almost sobs as Crowley subtly changes the angle of his jaw, thrusting his twisting tongue deeper into Aziraphale’s pussy. His slick is flowing out, over Crowley’s tongue and smearing over his chin, and Crowley revels in it, at having Aziraphale so undone because of him.
Aziraphale’s hand comes down to tug on Crowley’s hair, and then it drops to his mound, fingers reaching for -
Quick as a viper strike, Crowley catches Aziraphale’s wrist in an unforgiving grip. Aziraphale moans, his voice cracking with frustration and desire, but Crowley doesn’t let up. He knows what the Angel is trying to do but he won’t allow it; tonight, Aziraphale’s pretty little pussy is solely his to play with, a sentiment he lets Aziraphale know by firmly pinning his hand to the mattress.
Giving in, Aziraphale slumps back onto the pillows, relinquishing any attempt at control over his pleasure. Crowley fucks into him with his tongue relentlessly, and the moment Aziraphale pulses around him, he pulls out and latches onto his neglected clit, sucking fiercely.
Aziraphale’s scream is better than any celestial harmony Crowley has ever heard. Swirling his tongue around the swollen nub, Crowley slips in a finger inside Aziraphale’s cunt, stroking his throbbing walls as the Angel’s thighs squeeze his head almost painfully.
It goes on for a long time, Aziraphale’s whole body drawn taut and shaking before he finally begins to relax, his thighs falling open once more.
Crowley, however, is not done. Surging up on his knees, he grabs the Angel by the hips and heaves him down, pulling his upper body off the pillows to lie flat on the mattress. Aziraphale blinks up at him, dazed, and then inhales sharply when Crowley holds up his legs and presses the tip of his prick, hard and aching, to Aziraphale’s loosened entrance.
‘Still want this, angel?’ Crowley hisses, gazing down at him heatedly.
Pupils blown wide and at a loss for words, Aziraphale can only grab his thighs under the knees, holding them up for Crowley. That’s all the answer Crowley needs; he pushes in with a moan, his cock sliding easily inside Aziraphale’s slick cunt.
Aziraphale gasps loudly, his eyes squeezing shut as Crowley bottoms out. Crowley pauses, breathing hard.
‘Too much?’
Licking his lips, Aziraphale slowly blinks up at him. ‘No. You feel perfect. Now move, will you?’
Growling under his breath, Crowley leans down to crush their mouths together, encouraging Aziraphale to wrap his legs around him. Aziraphale complies and sighs happily, parting his lips for Crowley as the Demon begins to rock into him, starting out careful in case Aziraphale is too sensitive. He licks into Aziraphale’s mouth, dragging his tongue against the other’s as Aziraphale eagerly meets him halfway. With a hum, Aziraphale catches Crowley’s tongue lightly between his teeth as Crowley backs up, making the Demon hiss under his breath at the sensation.
Biting at his bottom lip, Aziraphale gives him a lopsided smile. ‘I love tasting myself on you.’
Crowley’s hips stutter. ‘A-angel!’
Aziraphale’s smile widens and he wraps his arms around Crowley’s neck, canting his hips to meet his thrusts. ‘How is it you have such a filthy mouth but still react this way when I say something, darling?’
Crowley groans, embarrassed. ‘Because it’s you…’
There’s a flash of teeth in Aziraphale’s answering smile, immensely smug and satisfied. ‘But you like it.’
Gritting his teeth, Crowley ups his pace, snapping his hips harder. ‘Yes, I do, you blessed hedonist,’ he says, smirking as Aziraphale’s expression swiftly melts into pleasure once more.
‘Oh, yes, like that,’ Aziraphale moans, his nails digging into Crowley’s back.
Gazing adoringly down at Aziraphale, Crowley gradually picks up his movements until he is fucking Aziraphale at the Angel’s preferred pace. He pulls nearly all the way out and drives in hard, filling the room with the wet sounds of skin slapping skin and the drag of his prick inside Aziraphale’s tight cunt.
Aziraphale is drawing close again, Crowley can see it in the desperate look that crosses his face, and the increasing helplessness of his cries. The Angel tries to touch himself once more, but again Crowley grabs his hand, winding his fingers through Aziraphale’s as he holds him down.
‘Cro-Crowley, please!’ Aziraphale gasps. ‘I - I need …’
‘I know exactly what you need, angel,’ Crowley says, pitching his voice low. ‘And you’ll get it.’
He pulls himself further forward so that he is leaning completely over Aziraphale. The Angel looks up at him in surprise, then his mouth drops open when Crowley abruptly changes his thrusting motions to grind his pelvis hard on Aziraphale’s.
Aziraphale moans as Crowley rubs on his clit, his prick buried deep inside him. Crowley keeps at it, undulating his hips incessantly against Aziraphale’s and leaning down to kiss him messily.
In less than a minute Aziraphale is coming again, and he bites down on Crowley’s lower lip. Crowley growls at the mix of pain and pleasure. He continues to grind against Aziraphale, moaning into his mouth as Aziraphale’s cunt clenches and pulses around his prick.
Still shaking, Aziraphale breaks away to whisper, ‘Now. Come for me, darling. I want you to, in me -’
He breaks off with a cry when Crowley resumes thrusting, fucking into Aziraphale with no sense of rhythm as he chases his pleasure frantically. Aziraphale yanks him back down into a kiss, swallowing Crowley’s cries when he finally climaxes, pressing Aziraphale harder into the mattress as he spills inside him.
‘I love you.’
Crowley freezes, panting against Aziraphale’s mouth. He stares down at the Angel, at the wide blue eyes alive with emotion.
‘I love you,’ Aziraphale repeats, more softly this time but with no less feeling. ‘I love you, Crowley. I love you so -’
‘Aziraphale,’ Crowley whispers, his voice breaking over the name.
With a shuddering breath, Aziraphale caresses his face, stroking his knuckles down Crowley’s cheekbone. Crowley leans into the touch, his heart pounding.
‘I’ve always wanted to tell you that,’ Aziraphale whispers. ‘Not just during our first time together after Armageddon or that night in ’41 … but so many times before. I cannot tell when I first realised it, or how many years it took after Rome for me to know myself, but … oh, Crowley, how long I’ve wanted to tell you! Every time you took me out for a meal or let me take you to bed, and I had to force myself not to say it and walk away from you … I can’t tell you how much it hurt.’
‘Aziraphale…’
‘And I couldn’t tell you that night in the bookshop either, not in words. But now there’s nothing to stop us, and oh, Crowley, I love you, I do.’
With a helpless sound, Crowley crushes their lips together, kissing Aziraphale breathless until the Angel is shaking in his arms again.
Pulling back, Crowley rasps, ‘And I you, angel. You know I do. You’ve always known.’
‘I do,’ Aziraphale whispers.
‘I love you.’
‘Say it again.’
‘Love you, ‘Ziraphale,’ Crowley mumbles the words against Aziraphale’s skin, pressing fervent kisses to his cheeks, his temple, his nose and again to his lips.
He shifts and realises he is still in Aziraphale, and the movement makes the Angel shudder, biting down on his lip. Crowley raises an eyebrow at the fresh wave of arousal that washes over Aziraphale’s countenance.
‘Want to go again?’ he asks lowly, with a deliberate roll of his hips.
‘Oh, you wicked tease!’ Aziraphale whines. He looks up at Crowley with sudden surprise. ‘You’re still so hard.’
Crowley lifts one shoulder in a casual shrug, still grinding lazily into Aziraphale. ‘’M a Demon, remember? Didn’t hear you complain once in ’41, though. Kept myself hard for you throughout the night, didn’t I? Gave you my cock every time you asked and made you come over and ov-’
‘Crowley!’ Aziraphale chides, blushing.
Crowley grins down at him. Aziraphale might have called him out for floundering whenever Aziraphale says something risqué, but it’s infinitely gratifying to know Crowley has the same effect on him too.
‘My dear, not that you don’t feel lovely,’ Aziraphale says then and Crowley immediately slows down, worried, ‘but, well … I am just a smidge sensitive right now.’
‘Oh. Right, ’course, I should’ve - ’ Crowley begins to stammer, a little ashamed as he carefully pulls out.
Aziraphale winces slightly, but doesn’t let go of Crowley. ‘No, no, darling, you’re wonderful. And I still want you. Oh, Crowley, I want you so badly -’
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Crowley murmurs, interlacing their fingers together. ‘I’ll still be here when you’re ready to go again.’
‘Now,’ Aziraphale says at once. ‘I’m ready now.’
Crowley makes a surprised sound. ‘Angel, you’re sore. You won’t enjoy it like this, give it some time. Or at least, let me take it away…’
But when he raises a hand, intending to soothe Aziraphale’s overworked and overstimulated muscles with a comforting miracle, Aziraphale snatches his wrist; not unlike how Crowley had grabbed him earlier.
‘No, leave it. I told you, I want to feel you like this.’
‘Then -’
‘And I don’t want you to stop. Oh, please, Crowley.’
‘Aziraphale,’ Crowley says, freeing his hand to run his fingers between the Angel’s legs. He slides his fingers through his wet folds and presses one inside his dripping pussy. Aziraphale’s hips jump and he makes a distressed sound. Crowley gives him a pointed look. ‘You’re just a smidge sensitive right now. So, not a good idea.’
‘On the contrary,’ Aziraphale returns, suddenly smiling up at him, ‘it’s a rather splendid idea, seeing we have options.’
Before Crowley can ask, Aziraphale sits up and, with another subtle wince, turns over. He grabs two fluffy, tartan pillows and arranges them underneath him. Carefully, he lies down on them, braced up on his forearms and knees, his plump arse up in the air.
For several seconds, Crowley just gapes at him. ‘Holy shit, angel.’
Aziraphale shoots him a smile over his shoulder, and it comes across all the more sensual thanks to his current position, which leaves no room for doubt as to what he wants.
‘Well, darling? Don’t keep me waiting.’
‘You’re going to discorporate me one of these days.’
The Angel gives him another look and there is no disguising the coyness in his eyes. ‘As long as it is by the little death, my dear.’
Crowley remains frozen for a second. And then he’s lunging forward, draping himself over Aziraphale’s back to mouth and bite along his shoulders. Aziraphale hums appreciatively, pushing back against him.
‘No one who meets you would ever guess what a greedy little thing you are,’ Crowley growls under his breath, sucking a bruising kiss into the nape of Aziraphale’s neck.
‘I don’t need anyone else to know me,’ Aziraphale says, breath stuttering. ‘Only you.’
‘Fuck,’ Crowley swears. He drags his lips over the broad expanse of warm skin to kiss hungrily down Aziraphale’s spine. ‘What did I do to deserve you?’
‘Between us,’ Aziraphale trembles when Crowley’s lips linger at the crease just above the swell of his buttocks, ‘I am certain I do not deserve you, you are too good to me, Crowley…’
Crowley decides to ignore that remark for now*, instead focusing on making Aziraphale feel good.
(* It sounds like a conversation that should be had with open, rational minds; not when Crowley is about to shove his face between Aziraphale’s arse cheeks.)
‘Can’t wait to have you again, angel. ’M gonna make you fucking scream.’
‘I’m holding you to that,’ Aziraphale whispers, shuddering.
With a groan, Crowley presses one more kiss to his lower back and then slides his tongue down, palming Aziraphale arse to spread his plump cheeks. Aziraphale whines when Crowley drags the flat of his tongue right over his opening, then makes an inquisitive noise when Crowley doesn’t stop. Leaning down, Crowley licks at Aziraphale’s perineum, making the Angel jolt a little, and then slides lower until he can press his tongue into Aziraphale’s cunt.
He is still soaked, milky rivulets of Crowley’s come and Aziraphale’s juices oozing out of his pussy, and Crowley wets his tongue on them. He gathers a generous dollop of slick, making Aziraphale squirm, and then moves up to lather it right over Aziraphale’s hole with his tongue.
Aziraphale keens, his thighs shaking, and Crowley digs his fingers into his cheeks as he laves over the puckered ring, tonguing Aziraphale open. Moaning, the Angel pushes back on Crowley’s mouth and he cries out again when Crowley’s tongue breaches him, thrusting gently into his quivering hole.
Crowley keeps at it, teasing at Aziraphale and loosening him up degree by degree until he can push the entire inhuman length of his tongue inside. Aziraphale buries his face in his sheets, muffling his cries as Crowley begins to fuck him with his tongue, giving his arse more or less the same treatment he’d given Aziraphale’s pussy.
‘More,’ Aziraphale pants, lifting his head. ‘C-Crowley, ple - please! Fingers … now…’
With an obscene slurp, Crowley pulls off his mouth, enjoying Aziraphale’s whimper at the sudden bereft feeling. He drags his fingers through Aziraphale’s folds, slicking up his fingers, but even as he circles one over Aziraphale’s entrance, he knows it will not be enough anymore. He presses his finger in gently, coating his hand with more lube with a thought.
Crowley drags it out, moving his finger slowly in Aziraphale and taking a small eternity to add another, despite Aziraphale’s increasingly incoherent pleas for more. By the time Crowley adds a third finger, another pocket of forever later, Aziraphale is almost sobbing into his sheets, pounding his fists into the mattress.
‘Crowley, if you don’t fuck me right now -’ Aziraphale begins to snarl, his voice hoarse with need.
‘What, you’ll beg me sssome more?’ Crowley asks, his voice going sibilant from his own arousal. His cock is achingly hard and leaking profusely.
‘Oh, don’t be cruel, please,’ Aziraphale says, doing exactly what Crowley said.
‘Never, angel,’ Crowley murmurs and then removes his fingers from Aziraphale.
The Angel immediately tenses for a moment, and then relaxes as Crowley smoothes a palm over the swell of his arse. But he trembles when Crowley finally presses the head of his lubricated cock to his entrance, easing past the loosened hole. Crowley sinks into him, inch by inch until his prick is entirely sheathed in the Angel.
‘All right?’ Crowley asks breathily when he is at last pressed up against Aziraphale.
The only answer he receives is a weak moan, muffled into the sheets. Growing worried, Crowley begins, ‘Angel, are you -’, but is cut off with Aziraphale pushing his arse back harshly onto his cock.
‘Fuck me, damn you.’
There is a beat and then Crowley gives a bark of laughter, delighted. ‘Yes, and yes,’ he drawls, pulling out until his head almost clears Aziraphale’s arse, the tight ring of muscle gripping greedily at his cock.
‘I am, both.’ On the last word, he thrusts back inside Aziraphale, not holding back.
Aziraphale wails as Crowley bottoms out and Crowley does it again and again, fucking hard and fast into Aziraphale without preamble. He’d fingered Aziraphale well open and loose during his earlier torment, and his slick channel takes Crowley’s prick easily as he pounds Aziraphale into his tartan pillows. The Angel cries out with every thrust, the elevated angle of his hips allowing Crowley to drive in deep, hitting at his sweet spot without mercy.
Crowley leans back over him to bite at Aziraphale’s shoulders again, working his hips relentlessly. Aziraphale is nearly incoherent, and he moans harder when he feels Crowley’s teeth on the side of his neck and his earlobe in quick succession.
Moaning as his own pleasure builds up in his gut, Crowley winds an arm around Aziraphale’s hips, wedging his hand between the Angel’s body and pillows to pleasure his cunt. When they are in this position, Crowley is usually jerking off Aziraphale’s cock and it takes a little fumbling for his fingers to figure out where to go, parting Aziraphale’s wet labia to seek out his clit.
He must still be sensitive but Aziraphale doesn’t try to escape Crowley’s touch, instead welcoming the added stimulation with a choked whine. Maintaining the brutal pace of his hips, Crowley swirls two lubed fingers swiftly over Aziraphale’s swollen nub, emulating how Aziraphale likes to have his clit licked.
Crowley keeps stroking his clit until he senses that Aziraphale is close, the Angel’s voice choking off with pleasure and hips stuttering as he pushes back against Crowley’s thrusts. At that, Crowley quickly slides his hand lower; keeping his thumb pressed to Aziraphale’s clit, he presses two fingers inside his soaking cunt.
He wants Aziraphale to be completely filled with him when he comes this time.
‘Crowley!’ Aziraphale cries out, a hint of surprise in his voice at the sudden intrusion. But then Crowley is snapping his hips again and Aziraphale’s orgasm crests, almost violent in how it takes over his entire body. Wailing out Crowley’s name, Aziraphale thrashes, Crowley barely able to hold him close with an arm around him as he fucks him through it, still fingering his cunt.
As Aziraphale finally settles, burying his face in the sheets again with a pitiful moan, it’s not long before Crowley follows him over the edge; the sight Aziraphale made just now was enough, he thinks, as he comes in Aziraphale, shouting the Angel’s name.
Crowley rests his forehead on the nape of Aziraphale’s neck for a long moment, catching his breath. The sound their bodies disconnecting makes as he pulls out is obscene and Crowley shudders as he moves to collapse beside Aziraphale.
‘You all right?’ he murmurs, smoothing a hand down the Angel’s spine.
Aziraphale takes a long moment before he responds. With a hum, he turns towards Crowley, lifting his face from the sheets. He is smiling dazedly, looking utterly blissed out.
‘A … a bit more than all right, I think.’
Crowley chuckles, still breathing hard. ‘Insatiable thing,’ he says fondly.
‘Only for you,’ Aziraphale returns softly. ‘I love you.’
Crowley blushes, his mind reeling at the abrupt confession again. He clears his throat. ‘Is - is this going to be a regular thing during sex now?’ He is aiming for light-hearted but even he catches the tremble in his voice.
Aziraphale raises his eyebrows. ‘Would that pose a problem?’
Crowley meets his bright blue eyes. ‘No,’ he whispers, painfully honest.
‘Good. Because I don’t intend to go a single day without telling you.’
‘Sap,’ Crowley snorts, but his cheeks are flaming.
‘Get used to it, it appears you are stuck with this sap for the rest of eternity.’
There is a long moment of silence between them. Then -
‘Not a bad way to spend eternity,’ Crowley mumbles, averting his eyes from Aziraphale to help him remove the tartan pillows from under him. He can practically feel Aziraphale smiling at him as Crowley carelessly flings them towards the headboard.
Looking for another excuse to not meet Aziraphale’s eyes - it is rather overwhelming at the moment - Crowley gestures in the general direction of Aziraphale’s lower body. ‘Want me to clean you up?’
‘No, leave it,’ Aziraphale says with a contented sigh. ‘I like it.’
That makes Crowley look up, crocking an eyebrow. ‘You’ve always insisted on leaving the mess every time that we - after I, uh … come. In you, I mean.’
‘Mm-hmm,’ acknowledges Aziraphale, but offers nothing more.
Crowley stares at him. ‘OK, explain that to me. I’ve been curious about it for, what, two thousand years now? Why do you like it?’
Aziraphale looks genuinely surprised. ‘You don’t?’
‘I …’ Crowley furrows his brows. ‘Uh … I do like it when you come inside me. It feels good. But afterwards,’ he wrinkles his nose, ‘come drying on my thighs and … I dunno, angel, it’s sticky and uncomfortable. Not my thing, I guess.’
‘Oh. I see. Does it … bother you that I prefer to leave it?’
Crowley snorts. ‘’Course not. You walking around with my come dripping outta you? Turns me on, if anything. It’s just that - I can’t imagine it’s comfortable.’
‘Hmm.’ Aziraphale is silent for a few seconds, thinking. ‘To tell you the truth, it’s not something I really need anymore. Not now that we’re together. But I suppose it’s hard to break a two-millennia-old habit.’
Crowley blinks slowly. ‘What?’ he says, confused.
Aziraphale smiles at him. He looks shy, almost. ‘The first time in Rome, when I wouldn’t let you clean me up … and the next time, and then the next … why did you think I wanted to leave the mess?’
‘Uh …’ Crowley swallows, suddenly struck by the very vivid fantasy he’d had in Rome right after their first tumble in the sheets. ‘I … I dunno, angel, I … I sometimes imagined that you, er …’
‘Yes?’ Aziraphale prompts.
Crowley clears his throat. ‘I thought you’d go back to wherever you were staying at after we fucked, and you’d touch yourself,’ he says bluntly, face reddening. ‘Thought you’d, I don’t know, fuck yourself again with my come in you…’ He trails off, mortified to hear himself give voice to that fantasy.
Aziraphale’s eyes are wide. ‘Oh, Crowley…’
‘Forget I said anything, ’s stupid -’
‘You’re right.’
‘What?’ Crowley stares.
Aziraphale is blushing hard. ‘That’s … that’s exactly what I used to do, after our - our meetings. I’d go back to my place and, oh, I’d get comfortable and touch myself and,’ Aziraphale averts his eyes, the apples of his cheeks as red as Crowley’s hair, ‘I liked having your come in me, the smell of you on me … I’d put my fingers in myself, right through your - ahem. It … it was more pleasurable that way. I - I’d imagine I was with you again and it was you touching me …’
They fall quiet for a split second. And then Crowley is blessing out loud, moving to push Aziraphale onto his back to capture his lips in a bruising kiss. Aziraphale makes a surprised sound, but he melts into the kiss as Crowley sucks on his lips, whimpering with pleasure.
‘Fucking heaven, angel,’ Crowley growls as they break away, panting. ‘You’re going to be the death of me.’
‘Darling,’ is all Aziraphale says back, tilting his face up eagerly for another kiss when Crowley leans down again.
Crowley had thought that they were done for tonight, with Aziraphale looking as satiated as he did a few minutes earlier. But with the blood roaring in his ears and Aziraphale’s confessed secrets still ringing in his mind, Crowley finds that he is more than eager to have his Angel again. He wants to bring Aziraphale all the pleasure he could want, real and tangible unlike the farce of their old daydreams and fantasies.
Aziraphale catches on when Crowley moves to kiss neck, biting down lightly over his pulse point. ‘My dear?’
‘Weren’t you,’ Crowley tells his warm skin, ‘saving one more round for later?’
‘Oh!’ Even without lifting his head, Crowley can tell that Aziraphale is blushing again. ‘I - yes, I do remember. But … I thought you seemed rather tired after - after the last time.’
‘Nope,’ says Crowley, popping his lips. He goes up on his elbows to peer heatedly down at Aziraphale. ‘C’mon, are you up for it, angel? I believe you owe me some cock now.’
Aziraphale reddens even more, but he can’t hide his smile. ‘Right. Are you - are you going to suck me off, then? Like you were planning earlier?’
Crowley tilts his head. ‘Is that what you want? ’M flexible.’*
(* In more ways than one, Aziraphale had been utterly delighted to discover in bed.)
Aziraphale exhales, flushed with arousal. ‘Whatever you like, darling. Anything.’
Crowley considers for a long moment. ‘Right,’ he says and pushes up to sit back on his knees. ‘Let’s have it.’
He smiles crookedly as Aziraphale swaps back his effort. His glistening pussy vanishes to make way for his cock again; it lies against his belly, already hard and straining.
Aziraphale looks up at Crowley with anticipation. He blinks when Crowley waves his own hand, jaw slackening in surprise to see the Demon making a swap of his own.
Crowley meets his startled blue eyes with a wide grin. ‘Since we’re in the business of switching things up tonight, why not, right?’ he says, enjoying the way Aziraphale follows the movement of his hand as he reaches down to rub his fingers over a freshly manifested cunt.
‘My dear…’ Aziraphale begins breathily. His voice trails off when Crowley pushes him to lie back, and then fluidly manoeuvres himself to kneel on either side of Aziraphale’s head.
The Angel breathes out shakily, his eyes locked on the sight hovering right over his face. It has been a while since he’d worn a vulva, Crowley muses, taking in Aziraphale’s reactions with a smirk.
When Aziraphale is finally able to tear his eyes away from Crowley’s cunt long enough to meet his eyes, Crowley grins down at him.
‘That’s it, angel. Why don’t you get me all nice and wet for you, and then I’ll ride that thick cock of yours?’
Aziraphale licks his lips, eyes growing wider. ‘Are you - are you certain? You … you don’t have to. I’ve worn you out quite a bit, you must be tired -’
‘Go big or go home,’ Crowley sings. ‘And I intend to wring you out thoroughly, Aziraphale. Consider this the grand finale.’
‘Oh, Crowley…’
Crowley raises an eyebrow. ’Well, angel? Don’t keep me waiting,’ he drawls, parroting Aziraphale’s words from earlier.
‘You’re incorrigible.’
‘But you like it,’ Crowley grins.*
(* Aziraphale doesn’t deign to reply to that, opting instead to shut his Demon up but proceeding to gorge himself on the feast he has been presented with.
But Aziraphale does indeed like it, very much so. He likes it because he is an insatiable thing and he is the luckiest Angel in the world, blessed with the most indulgent lover who will not hesitate to move Heaven and Hell to give him the world.)