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It started, of all things, with a documentary.
Aziraphale and Crowley had long since settled into a comfortable domesticity in the years since the failed Armageddon. Crowley had all but moved into the bookshop at this point, with the geometry of the space expanding to accommodate an actual bedroom, and a rooftop garden for Crowley to menace his plants in. A kitchen unfurled itself behind the back room, and with less trial and more error they would occasionally cook their own meals, rather than going out or ordering in.
Heaven and Hell had made no contact with them, except for a wary check-in from both sides on the first anniversary of the Notpocalypse, making sure that the two of them weren't getting up to any funny business.
Which, of course, they weren't, unless you counted fucking on every surface of the bookshop (including the ceiling) as 'funny business'.
Despite the enthusiasm with which Aziraphale engaged in their more amorous activities, there were still certain things in that department that Crowley wanted, but kept hidden. The last thing he wanted was to frighten Aziraphale off, or repulse him, which meant that there was a part of him that he needed to keep secret. It was a price he was more than willing to pay, to keep the love in Aziraphale's gaze unmarred by revulsion.
There were certain things inherent to him being a demon. One of them was the animal aspect he bore. It went beyond the serpentine slit of his eyes, beyond the hiss always threatening to trip off his tongue, ingrained into him on a biological level in a way that just seemed like someone was having a laugh at his expense.
Deep down, Crowley desperately craved for Aziraphale to pin him down, wrap himself tightly around him, and pump Crowley full of so many eggs that he wouldn't be able to move.
Logically, he knew Aziraphale wouldn't actually be disgusted by him, if he ever admitted to wanting such things. But there was a strong chance that it wasn't at all something he'd be interested in actively pursuing with Crowley. Crowley knew that he wouldn't be able to get over his embarrassment and really enjoy himself if Aziraphale offered anyway; it would feel too much like pity.
Still, he'd gotten quite good at ignoring the urge. There was plenty else in his life to leave him satisfied, after all – how could he complain, really, now that he got to wake up beside Aziraphale, have the angel smile at him lovingly, and kiss him without fear? And that's what a relationship was all about, anyway, the ability to compromise. There were plenty of pastimes and idiosyncrasies of Aziraphale's that Crowley had learnt to live with, and he was sure the reverse was true. He could live without sating that particular desire, when it meant maintaining this balanced life they'd carved out for themselves.
Which was why the documentary was proving so immensely frustrating.
The documentary hadn't started as something solely about snakes, or otherwise Crowley would have just switched the channel to something else when they'd first sat down on the sofa. The documentarian's focus had drifted into herpetology before Crowley had even really realised, more focussed himself on the way Aziraphale was idly stroking his fingers through Crowley's hair. By the time he did realise, it was far too late, and suddenly switching the channel would have been significantly more suspicious than if he just suffered in silence.
Then, of course, the documentary began to focus on the reproductive habits of snakes, in rather lurid detail. Honestly, what was with the human fascination surrounding how other species propagated themselves? He felt his cheeks heat, more warmth pooling in other places, as the screen showed an overly indulgent, panning shot of two snakes slowly coiling around each other. The secret desires Crowley had quite successfully been repressing until now surged to the fore, threatening to make an utter fool out of him.
Crowley squirmed, blushing horribly as the snakes onscreen continued their sinuous dance, and silently cursed the entire documentary crew to forever lose one out of every pair of socks they ever bought or owned. Didn't these humans understand the concept of privacy? How would they like it, if someone were to come poking a camera into their bedroom as they were getting frisky with their significant other?
And to think, he'd been so proud of himself when he'd finally convinced Aziraphale to allow a television into the bookshop, even if it was up on the first floor and not the bookshop proper. He should have known that the small victory was going to come back and bite him on the arse somehow.
"What on Earth has gotten into you?" Aziraphale asked after bearing several minutes of Crowley's irate huffing and wriggling, looking down at him with a perplexed expression.
"Nothing," Crowley mumbled stubbornly, even as he twisted himself in a vain attempt to find a position that was both comfortable and didn't increase his arousal.
"It must be something…" Aziraphale insisted, then trailed off, glancing between Crowley and the documentary several times before a tentative lightbulb began slowly flickering to life.
His brow scrunched up, clearly struggling to understand. "Crowley do you… wish to make love to me in your serpent form?"
Crowley choked on a cross between a laugh and a sob. He almost wished that was what he wanted, because at least that would make sense, his demonic instincts asserting themselves, pushing him to take. At least it wouldn't come as a complete shock. When it came to carnal activities, Aziraphale gave so beautifully, surrendering himself to Crowley with perfect trust.
What Crowley wanted was something else entirely.
"No, it's not that, I–"
"The reticulated python has been known to lay in excess of 80 eggs in a single clutch," the documentarian informed them helpfully. Crowley flushed and squirmed again, hunching his shoulders and looking away.
"Oh," Aziraphale said softly, and Crowley screwed his eyes shut.
"Listen," Crowley tried shakily, fumbling for the remote – quite the feat with his eyes still closed – and turning the telly off before the documentary could go and expose his secret desires any further than they already had.
Not that there was an awful lot left to be exposed. In retrospect, he really should have cut his losses far sooner.
He opened his mouth to say something to his defence, but nothing came out.
Aziraphale ventured another guess as the silence began to stretch between them. "Would you like that?" he asked, his voice quiet and low. "For you to be filled up with as many eggs as you can fit inside you?"
Crowley's eyes flew back open, wild and wide. He recognised that tone of voice. It was how Aziraphale spoke when he'd told Crowley how utterly delectable he looked, right before licking up the melted chocolate he'd poured into the valley of Crowley's spine. It was the tone he took when reciting erotic poetry to Crowley. It was the way he sounded whenever Crowley wrapped a forked tongue around his cock and took him all the way into his mouth.
A small, encouraging smile played at Aziraphale's lips as he gazed at Crowley with hooded eyes. "Would you like for me to breed you, darling?"
Crowley wheezed.
The crease in Aziraphale's brow returned. "Oh, dear, I'm not coming on too strongly, am I? Or have I misunderstood, is that not what you…" His cheeks coloured. "That is to say, I dearly hope that I'm not being presumptuous. Why don't you tell me what it is that you'd like?"
"I–" Crowley's voice cracked, throat sticking. "Yeah," he managed. "That."
The crease faded once more as Aziraphale snuggled in a bit closer, fingers trailing along Crowley's arm. Despite his embarrassment, Crowley couldn't help but shiver and sit up, leaning into the touch.
"I must admit, the idea of it rather excites me," Aziraphale told him conspiratorially, and Crowley's breath shuddered around a moan, only to hitch again as Aziraphale began mouthing at his neck. They both shifted, Crowley beginning a slow slide down onto his back, Aziraphale's broad bulk pressed against him from above. "I just know how beautifully you'll take it, having me fill you up to the brim…" He nipped at Crowley's ear, and Crowley whimpered, never able to resist the angel when he got like this. "And it won't matter how much I give you, you'll just keep begging for more, won't you, you greedy thing?"
"Yesss…" Crowley hissed helplessly.
"I'm sure that can be arranged," Aziraphale hummed against his throat, the heft of him settling against Crowley and pinning him to the sofa.
"You mean– now?" Crowley squeaked, in a way that was not at all undignified.
Aziraphale pulled back, blue eyes startled. "Oh, no, of course not, I wouldn't dream of rushing you," he assured, then gave him a wry little smile. "I'd rather we took all the time you need," he said, lowering his lashes a fraction. "Because I plan to take my time with you."
"Hrgh," Crowley agreed.
"Excellent," Aziraphale told him as Crowley regathered his wits. "At any rate, it's really the sort of thing that we should discuss properly beforehand, rather than diving straight in."
"Sounds like a plan," Crowley told him.
"In the interim, I'm more than amenable to some perfectly normal lovemaking, if you are as well," Aziraphale offered hopefully, and Crowley grinned, pulling him down into a kiss.
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When they did eventually work their way up to playing out Crowley's fantasy, Aziraphale pulled out all the stops, retrieving some of the bottles of 1865 Château Lafite he'd been saving for a special occasion. They drank companionably until they were giggling and mutually draped over one another in order to stay upright. Once they'd decided it was time to head up to the bedroom, they sobered up enough that they could reliably navigate the stairs without bumping into anything along the way, leaving them feeling warm and happily giddy as they chased up the steps.
Aziraphale fairly glowed with excitement as they reached the bedroom door, which actually went quite a way to soothing Crowley's lingering nerves about the entire situation. When he opened it and gestured Crowley inside with a flourish, Crowley realised he'd made the room far larger than usual, and had replaced the bed with a giant nest of pillows. It was softly lit and warm, the air scented like a sunlit meadow in spring.
"What do you think?" Aziraphale asked.
"'S perfect," Crowley replied, turning towards him for a kiss. Aziraphale met him eagerly, hands sliding around Crowley's waist and drawing him close. Aziraphale's mouth tasted of wine and sunshine, and Crowley groaned as Aziraphale's hands eventually wandered lower, gripping at the spare curves of Crowley's arse before lifting him off the ground entirely. Crowley readily wrapped his legs around Aziraphale's waist, draping his arms around the angel's neck as he was carried over to the nest.
Aziraphale laid him down gently amongst the pillows, hands sliding up his jean-clad thighs and squeezing. Crowley buried his fingers in the curls at the back of Aziraphale's head, rolling up against the pressure of Aziraphale's body bearing down against his, the buckle of his belt digging into both of their stomachs. With a soft groan against Crowley's tongue, Aziraphale removed the offending accessory and tossed it across the room before moving onto the fly beneath. Crowley's hips juddered involuntarily up into Aziraphale's hands, which wasn't particularly helpful to Aziraphale's mission of relieving him of his trousers. He broke away from the kiss to get a better view of what he was doing, leaving Crowley to impatiently strip himself of his shirt as Aziraphale wrestled him out of his trousers. They finally slipped free and Aziraphale triumphantly threw them over his shoulder, then blinked as he saw the lingerie set Crowley had been wearing beneath.
"Oh, you cheeky devil," he murmured with delight, greedily drinking in the sight of straps and black lace.
Crowley grinned, feeling rather pleased with himself. "You know you love it."
The expression on Aziraphale's face softened. "You know, I really do."
Crowley flushed, but couldn't help but smile wider, biting down on his bottom lip as one of Aziraphale's hands trailed up between his ribs, over his sternum, and up to cup the side of Crowley's jaw. The other grazed over the lace covering his left nipple, making him groan into the kiss as Aziraphale traced steady circles around it. Crowley slung his legs around Aziraphale's hips and cinched them in, pulling their bodies flush against one another and allowing him to feel the growing swell of Aziraphale's erection pressed against him. He ground down, feeling himself growing wet at the steady pressure, the large round buttons of Aziraphale's waistcoat pressing a neat line of circles into his skin.
"That mustn't be comfortable," Aziraphale told him, and leant back, deftly unbuttoning his waistcoat and shucking it before draping it carefully over the edge of the nest.
"Oh, I see how it is," Crowley said, reaching up and pulling Aziraphale's bowtie loose, pointedly tossing it in the direction his own clothes had disappeared. The motion drew them closer once more, and neither of them could help but fall into each other's embrace, mouths hot and insistent. Aziraphale's breath grew heavy and panting, making him abandon the way he'd been stroking Crowley's sides in favour of loosening the collar of his shirt. He undid the buttons partway down his chest before Crowley blurted, "Leave it on," making Aziraphale pause as Crowley's cheeks flared red. "It's– I just really like the sight of you halfway undone."
A smile curved at Aziraphale's lips, an errant tousled curl falling rakishly across his forehead as he tilted his head down to kiss Crowley again.
After a moment, he straightened, still kneeling and buttressing Crowley's thighs with his own, his gaze heavy as he slowly rolled his sleeves to the elbow. Crowley made a rather undignified noise at the sight, unable to choose whether to settle his gaze on the firm shape of the angel's newly revealed forearms, or the pale golden curl of chest hair peeking out from beneath his unbuttoned collar. Crowley helplessly thrust up at nothing, and Aziraphale chuckled, leaning back down to capture his lips once more. His hands roamed freely over Crowley's body, teasing at the straps of his lingerie, dipping below the edge of the lace with just the tips of his fingers. Crowley whined and arched up into the sensation, a soft gasp punching out of him when Aziraphale's mouth drifted down to close around one of his nipples through the sheer fabric of his bralette.
"Aziraphale–" he gasped, hips jolting up against the hard press of Aziraphale's cock, which only served to make him gasp again.
"Oh, but you've wrapped yourself up so deliciously, my dear," Aziraphale murmured, laying down a trail of kisses between his pectorals as he made his way over to Crowley's other nipple. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to savour my unwrapping of you," he said, gently taking Crowley's other nipple between his teeth. Crowley whined again, writhing, and in response Aziraphale settled his weight more heavily against Crowley, completely pinning him. Crowley swore, head thumping back against the cushions as Aziraphale teased at him through the bralette, the fabric tenting slightly over the aroused point of his nipples. His thighs squeezed around Aziraphale's waist, fingers tangled in the angel's hair, panting desperately at the just-barely-not-enough stimulation he was receiving. He could feel Aziraphale smiling against his skin at his ineffectual squirming, the utter bastard, but the realisation just made him flush all the harder.
"Was there something you'd like, Crowley?" Aziraphale prompted gently, thumb slipping below the bottom strap of the bralette and flicking against his nipple.
Crowley whined again, cheeks somehow burning hotter as it dawned on him that Aziraphale was going to keep teasing him unless he begged for more.
Wait, no, Aziraphale wasn't forcing him to beg – he just wanted Crowley to ask. That had been his whole problem to begin with, after all, his inability to ask for something that he'd wanted for centuries, for fear of how the angel might react.
He knew that if he was stubborn enough about this, Aziraphale would relent, understanding that revealing his deepest desire had already been pushing the bounds of his levels of comfort in asking for things for himself. Somehow, asking for something smaller almost seemed even more daunting. But, with a heady rush of arousal, Crowley found himself still ready to open his mouth and demand, "Undress me."
A pleased smile curled at Aziraphale's lips. "It would be my absolute pleasure," he assured, shifting himself to give Crowley enough space to arch his back, slipping his hands beneath the demon to undo the bralette's clasp, pulling the garment free before dipping down to mouth at Crowley's bared nipples. Crowley groaned and wiggled his hips suggestively, making Aziraphale let out a puff of laughter against his chest before pulling away yet again to peel Crowley's dampened underwear off, revealing a pussy well on its way to being soaked.
"Oh, just look at you," Aziraphale murmured proudly as he cradled Crowley's cheek, seemingly as in awe of Crowley's cunt as the first time he'd seen it. Crowley responded by turning his head and sucking Aziraphale's thumb into his mouth, more than a little gratified at the way the angel's pale lashes fluttered. Aziraphale let out a quiet groan, pulsing his thumb several times against the curl of Crowley's tongue, before withdrawing it, glistening with saliva, and tracing it in a slow drag along the outer folds of Crowley's equally glistening pussy.
Crowley made a thready little sound as Aziraphale stroked gently over his clit, over and over, until Crowley's thighs were shaking.
"Aziraphale," he managed to croak. "Want you."
"You have me," Aziraphale assured him. "Always."
"You know what I meant, you sap," he growled. Aziraphale gave him an impish grin, but obligingly dispensed with his own underwear, revealing the hard lines of his impressively erect cock.
It was a fair sight larger than what the angel usually wore, and the head was shaped differently, presumably to allow for the passage of the eggs as he pumped them into Crowley.
Crowley had to take a moment to remember how to breathe. "Yes," he whimpered once he'd figured out how to get the air back into his lungs, making an uncoordinated grabbing motion at Aziraphale.
"All for you, my dearest," Aziraphale promised, clicking his fingers to slick himself. He settled himself so that he was lined up with the outside of Crowley's folds, rocking back and forth in a wet, indulgent slide. Crowley made an inarticulate sound and dragged him down by the collar, meeting him with an inelegant kiss. Aziraphale's mouth moved passionately against his own, swallowing Crowley's gasp as he carefully nudged the tip inside.
Crowley gasped and scrabbled at the buttons of Aziraphale's shirt, suddenly desperate to have the angel's bare skin against him. In a rare show, Aziraphale miracled away his shirt entirely, and Crowley eagerly wrapped his arms around him, revelling at the solid bulk of him and the shift of muscle that he could feel beneath.
He worked Crowley open with the tiniest of thrusts, clearly cautious of the fact that it was more than Crowley was used to taking. Still, it seemed like no time at all before Aziraphale was all but fully seated inside him, Crowley's legs clamped tightly around him, keeping him in place. Aziraphale rolled gently into him with what little space he had, pressing in deeper than he ever had before, leaving Crowley with a fullness he'd never felt.
Crowley moaned as he realised that he was going to feel far fuller by the end of all this than he already did.
"The… they won't be, y'know, active, will they?" Crowley murmured, even though they'd already had this conversation and mutually agreed that the last thing they wanted was to have an angel-demon hybrid running around, causing havoc. Or, Someone forbid, several angel-demon hybrids.
"Perfectly inert," Aziraphale reassured him. "Are you ready?"
Crowley nodded, biting his lip as Aziraphale began to press the rest of the way into him. He'd made his own modifications to his anatomy, of course, which was what allowed Aziraphale to slowly nudge his way past Crowley's internal barriers, until the tip of his cock was protruding into Crowley's womb.
"Oh, doesn't that feel peculiar," Aziraphale murmured as Crowley clung to him. "Colour, dearest?"
"Green," Crowley managed to gasp, legs trembling. "Please–"
"Of course, my darling boy," Aziraphale promised, and carefully began to thrust, a ragged gasp punching out of Crowley's throat each time Aziraphale's cock breached into his womb. Aziraphale made gentle noises at him, reaching down between them to stroke at Crowley's clit, driving him to a fever pitch. Crowley's breath quickened, head slamming ineffectually back against the pillows. Suddenly, Crowley's legs went vice-like around Aziraphale, holding him buried as deep as he could go, as Crowley shook himself apart with one of the most intense orgasms of his entire existence.
He came down slowly, Aziraphale cradling him close.
"You let me know when you're ready for more," Aziraphale told him. "Take as much time as you need."
Crowley nodded dazedly, still catching his breath, still able to feel Aziraphale buried impossibly deep.
He'd dreamt of this for so long, he still couldn't quite believe that fantasy and reality were about to collide. But here Aziraphale was, real and undeniable, gazing down at him like he was the most beautiful thing the angel had ever seen. Any small lingering doubts that Aziraphale was merely indulging him and getting nothing out of this himself finally fled, and Crowley lost his breath for an entirely different reason.
"Crowley? Are you all right?" Aziraphale sounded alarmed, and Crowley realised he was perilously close to weeping.
"'M fine," Crowley said wobblingly. "Just really love you a lot, 's all."
"Oh, Crowley," Aziraphale murmured, tone indescribably fond, and kissed away his brimming tears. Crowley sighed shakily and clung to him, grip tight, even though he knew there was no risk at all of Aziraphale letting him go.
"'M ready," he said once the threat of tears was no longer looming, rolling his hips against Aziraphale's.
"You're certain?"
"Positive," Crowley affirmed, letting out a soft groan as Aziraphale eased himself halfway out and slowly thrust back in. Before long, he felt the base of Aziraphale's cock begin to swell promisingly, leaving him trembling with the desire to pull Aziraphale hard against him and force it inside. He managed to keep himself under control, and was soon rewarded with the swell growing larger, then nudging inside him, his body greedily giving way under the pressure.
Both of them gasped when the widest part of the egg pushed inside him and, resistance overcome, the rest of it soon followed, travelling steadily as Aziraphale thrust it deeper into him. The sensation repeated when the egg reached the entrance of his womb, only deeper and more spread out – and when the widest part breached him, this time the egg all but surged forward, abruptly spilling into him. Crowley let out a strangled cry, body spasming around the sensation of being filled so deeply.
It wasn't quite enough to tip him over into another orgasm on its own, Aziraphale being too focussed ensuring that Crowley wasn't being overwhelmed by the unfamiliar experience, but Crowley felt his clit aching for stimulation, and knew it wouldn't take much.
"How did that feel?" Aziraphale asked him.
"Make me cum with the next one," Crowley begged.
"Is that one sitting comfortably?" Aziraphale insisted. His voice grew a little rougher when Crowley nodded, eyes dark with arousal. "Are you ready for another?"
"Yesss," Crowley hissed impatiently, feeling a ripple of scales spread out along his limbs before he was able to suppress it. The base of Aziraphale's cock immediately began to swell once more, and Crowley pressed impatiently up against it, his self-control gone out the window, drawing it inside him as the next egg began to push up its length. It left Aziraphale with very little room to move, but he pushed in deeper with minute little presses of his hips with what little space Crowley had left him.
"Fuck, angel," Crowley rasped, clinging tightly to Aziraphale as the egg moved inside him, moving steadily deeper. Aziraphale slipped a hand between them, rolling fingertips in firm strokes over Crowley's clit. Every breath hitching with a soft moan, Crowley felt himself clenching rhythmically around Aziraphale's cock, pushing the egg deeper and deeper until it joined the first, making Crowley howl as his second orgasm of the night surged through him.
"More," he demanded as soon as his scrambled brain recovered enough to allow him to remember how to speak. He shivered and moaned as Aziraphale happily obliged, the occasional aftershock still shivering through him and making him clamp down.
"Look at how beautifully you're taking me, Crowley," Aziraphale murmured. Crowley cracked his eyes open, not remembering when he'd shut them, looked down, and let out a shaky groan.
The third egg settled into him, the size of them enough that a slight swell to his abdomen was visible. His cunt was stretched obscenely wide around Aziraphale's cock, the swell of a fourth egg already beginning to press into him. Aziraphale took hold of one of his hands and rested it against the slight bump of his stomach, and Crowley let out a broken moan as he felt the clutch shift beneath his fingers to accommodate the new entrant, hips writhing and shuddering.
"Would you like another, my dear?" Aziraphale murmured, pressing a kiss against his sweat-damp neck.
Crowley whimpered and nodded jerkily, feeling his cunt flutter around Aziraphale in anticipation. "Please," he garbled. "More, don't stop, please."
Another egg began shifting into him almost immediately, then another, and another, as Aziraphale steadily pumped him full to bursting. Crowley clung tight to him, feeling the distended press of his stomach against Aziraphale's, and the eggs almost lazily settled into him, leaving Crowley feeling so deliciously full that he could scarcely speak.
"I think perhaps that should be enough," Aziraphale suggested, panting, and Crowley nodded in agreement.
Aziraphale pulled out of him gently, but even so, Crowley whined, feeling his eyes grow hot at the loss. He squeezed them tightly shut, twisting his head away, and Aziraphale made a gently cooing noise at him.
Crowley's hips jerked as he felt the slicked head of a plug resting against his entrance. He cracked his eyes open, seeing Aziraphale gazing at him with patience, and Crowley nodded rapidly, moaning as he was slowly filled completely once more. A spasm ricocheted through his thighs as he teetered on the precipice of release.
"Wouldn't want you losing any, now would we?" Aziraphale told him innocently as he held the demon open on the widest part of the plug for a few seconds, then promptly pulsed it in and out of him until his legs were trembling.
"'Ziraphale," Crowley all but wailed, only for the angel's mouth to descend on his cunt as well, lapping at his clit like it was a particularly scrumptious dessert. Crowley felt pretty much everything below the waist begin to quake, a thready noise collecting in his throat. Then, Aziraphale pushed the plug all of the way in, lips still pressed firmly to Crowley's clit as he sucked. Crowley shrieked, and would have writhed his way entirely off the bed as an orgasm crashed over him, were it not for Aziraphale's angelic strength keeping him pinned in place. As it was, his hands fisted tight in Aziraphale's curls, making them even more riotous than usual. Aziraphale moaned against him, and when Crowley came down enough to release his grip, he apologetically brushed a few pale strands from his fingers.
"You rest, now," Aziraphale told him, helping ease Crowley onto his side, shifting the pillows around to support him. "We'll take as long a break as you need, and get those eggs out of you after."
Crowley was already gone before Aziraphale had finished speaking.
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Crowley's eyes drifted open slowly, feeling full and sated. He was clean, but still naked, curled up around a thick pillow. There was warmth behind him, and soft breath tickling his neck. He turned to find Aziraphale, fully clothed, smiling and spooned against him. The shallow press of his hips indicated that he was currently forgoing genitals entirely.
"How are you feeling?" Aziraphale murmured, brushing an errant lock of hair behind Crowley's ear.
"Full," Crowley groaned, but still grinned tiredly.
"I can imagine," Aziraphale chuckled, running a soft finger down Crowley's side, making him shiver. "Would you like if we did something about that?"
Crowley nodded against the pillow, then groaned again as Aziraphale helped him shift upright. Aziraphale took a seat amidst the pillows behind him, legs outstretched in parallel behind him. The angel's arms enfolded around Crowley's stomach, and Crowley overlapped them with his own, Aziraphale's chin resting on Crowley's shoulder as they cradled each other.
Aziraphale miracled the head of the plug still seated inside Crowley slick, just in case, then reached down and slowly began to ease it out of him, gently kissing his neck as he worked the plug free. The broadest part of it left him and the rest soon followed, making Crowley cry out, legs twitching.
A thought suddenly struck him. "Angel,” he asked, a little breathless, “when these eggs come out, they aren't going to be tartan, are they?"
Aziraphale hesitated for the briefest of moments before replying, "No."
Crowley then felt a subtle miracle inside him, as if, say, someone was quickly changing a certain clutch of eggs a different colour. He didn't have time to call Aziraphale out on it, though, because the eggs then shifted, as if his indignation had given them some sort of cue. He felt something within him loosen and open, making him gasp as the first egg began to ease its way out of his womb. He whined at the feeling, hand flailing back in an uncoordinated grab at the pillows surrounding them, before Aziraphale caught it with his own. His thumb stroked soothingly over Crowley's knuckles, his other hand trailing gentle lines along Crowley's inner thigh. Crowley clenched around the egg as it moved torturously slow over his g-spot, but it moved inexorably down, and down, until Aziraphale reached between his legs to ease it out of him entirely, Crowley's thighs almost snapping shut on reflex as it was released.
Aziraphale lifted the egg for Crowley's inspection. It fit snugly in his palm, the shell coloured an inoffensive robin's blue, lightly freckled at the top with white.
"See? I told you they wouldn't be tartan," Aziraphale sniffed as he set it aside.
"I didn't doubt you for a second," Crowley said dryly, but the edge was taken off his tone as the next egg was already beginning to shift within him. "Oh, fuck."
"It's all right," Aziraphale soothed. "I have you, my darling, just lean back, there you are." Crowley obeyed, pillowed by the angel's bulk, eyes fluttering shut as Aziraphale's hands grazed along his spread thighs, settling into the sensation of the egg stretching him from within.
His fingers stroked around Crowley's stretched entrance, then swirled up around his clit, perfectly teasing. The egg all but fell out of him, Aziraphale leaning forward once more to catch it, setting it aside with the other.
They came easier and easier after that, almost seeming to travel under their own impetus, the collection of eggs stacked by Aziraphale's elbow growing steadily more impressive in size. Aziraphale kept stroking him all the while, just barely on the wrong side of enough pressure to send him over the edge again.
"You absolute bastard," Crowley swore as Aziraphale's hand retreated from his clit right as another egg popped out of him, leaving him trembling uselessly on the precipice.
"Well, I can hardly bring you to completion now, much as I'd like to," Aziraphale told him primly. "All those eggs are only coming out from your own efforts, and you'll just tighten up and make things harder for yourself if you orgasm now."
Crowley rebelliously pushed his hips up into Aziraphale's palm, only for the angel's hands to shift again and press down firmly against his thighs, keeping him spread open. He whimpered as Aziraphale returned to whispering praise in his ear. "You're doing so well, my love, you took me so beautifully, just a little while longer and you'll be done, I'll give you all that you deserve…"
Crowley let himself be swept away by it all, floating hazily on a cloud of Aziraphale's affection, shivering at the stroke of fingers over his thighs, his stomach, along the edge of his still-aching cunt. The growing emptiness within him didn't feel hollow, at least not in an unpleasant sense, and he dreamily coasted along in a headspace where he could no longer fathom the concept of time, until he felt Aziraphale's hands go still against him.
"'S it done?" Crowley slurred groggily, reaching out blindly and smiling when Aziraphale's fingers tangled with his own.
"One last one to go," Aziraphale murmured. "You've done marvellously so far, are you able to do one more?"
Crowley nodded, feeling the damp press of his sweat-soaked hair against his neck as he dropped his head back onto Aziraphale's shoulder. Aziraphale returned to gently stroking his outer folds, coaxing the last egg out of him. Crowley felt his aching cunt being stretched one final time, Aziraphale's thumb describing firm circles over his clit. His thighs quaked, his hand squeezing Aziraphale's hand so tight the bones would have shattered were he human, a reedy whine building a home for itself in his throat.
Then he was gone, vision bursting with supernova brightness, blood roaring in his ears as pleasure surged through all the cracks and crevices within him. The only thing keeping him tethered to the Earth was Aziraphale, solid and constant, and Crowley wept for the unequivocable love he could feel radiating off the angel below him.
Aziraphale held him tight, pressing kisses against sweat-damp skin as Crowley slowly returned to himself, breathing ragged and catching.
Once he was aware of his limbs again, Crowley shifted, turning himself over within the circle of Aziraphale's arms. "Thank you," he managed to croak.
Aziraphale's face glowed with a deep affection. "For you, my dear, always."
Crowley smiled, rested his head against Aziraphale's chest, and slept.
When he woke again, he found himself miracled clean and dressed in his favourite pyjamas, Aziraphale still cradling him close and stroking his hair, a blanket draped over them both.
"Good morning," Aziraphale said, a fond twinkle in his eye.
"Hi," Crowley replied groggily, closing his eyes again and burrowing against Aziraphale's chest, savouring the cosy warmth, and the sensation of being so thoroughly loved. He hovered indulgently on the edge of dozing for a solid few hours, Aziraphale still carding fingers through his hair all the while, before he finally shifted, eyes opening again. A flash of pale blue caught in his periphery, and he turned to look fully at the eggs Aziraphale had bestowed him with.
"I had all of those inside me?" Crowley asked, eyeing the sizeable pile with incredulity.
"I'm very proud of you," Aziraphale replied, kissing him on the cheek. "You did wonderfully. I do hope it was to your satisfaction, as well?"
"Better than anything I could have ever dreamt," Crowley admitted, still looking at the eggs. "What do we do with them, then? Just miracle them off, I guess, not like they’re going to be useful for anything."
Aziraphale pouted. "I suppose, although I did put quite a lot of energy into them, seems such a waste."
Crowley sat up, blanket slipping from around them, and finally tore his gaze away to raise an eyebrow at Aziraphale. "What else are you going to do with them, make an omelette?"
"What an excellent suggestion, thank you," Aziraphale said happily. "I believe I'll do just that."
So saying, he miracled himself an apron, scooped the eggs into its skirt, and merrily trotted off to the kitchen, leaving an agog Crowley in his wake.