Archive of Our Own

Aziraphale walked through the dungeon door with his heart beating hard in his chest and his hands already sweaty. He knew perfectly well what to expect here, but still his instinct told him that the room smelled of danger. Something serious was going to happen, he could feel it. But he still had to do this, he had no choice. His stupid actions had brought him here, and now he had to face the consequences. He had to do everything he was told, follow instructions, and pray for mercy. Or at least, that's what was written in the letter he held in his trembling hands.

Inside, everything seemed the same as before. Daylight was only allowed in through a few small windows up near the ceiling, and the place smelled of damp, dirt, and all the odours of French society of those years. Fear, despair, and grime. A filthy cocktail that seemed to explode within those four cold stone walls.

The angel stepped forward, trying to look brave, but still quailed as a voice echoed through the room. It was slow, leisurely, and coarse, with a slight hiss, and seemed to come from everywhere in general and nowhere in particular.

"You've come...," said the voice, clear, but distant.

"I did what you asked," said the angel, feeling his body tremble all over. "Now give me back what you stole from me."

"You haven't done anything for me yet," replied the strange voice, sounding annoyed.

"Yes, I did. I'm here, aren't I?"

"Silly angel..." laughed the voice, coming closer and becoming more menacing. Lurking. "Did you really think it would be that simple?"

With a snap of fingers, a demon materialized in front of the angel, and a series of candles lit around him. Aziraphale identified, now completely terrified, the trap into which he had fallen. On the floor, some biblical passages had been written, but they were in the tongue of the demons, the word of God corrupted. The sigils around the words began to shine, and the angel felt his legs weaken, become clumsy. Then his whole body collapsed, falling to the ground. He shook uncontrollably as the heavenly light began to abandon him, leaving him bereft, with an empty space in his chest. His angelic powers were fading, his defences falling before of the enemy's sight.

Now, in the darkened room, a demon had a helpless angel at his mercy. A completely human angel, until the candles around them were consumed.

Crowley approached Aziraphale quickly, traversing the demonic veil effortlessly. He lifted the angel from the ground and held him for a few seconds against his chest. The blonde's heart was beating hard, and his forehead was already drenched in sweat. His whole body was reacting to the sudden change.

Silently, Crowley stabilized him. He studied Aziraphale's eyes,, in search of any sign of discomfort, but his answer came when the blonde pushed him back, hard, still a little dizzy.

"Get your filthy hands off me," snapped Aziraphale, breathing choppily.

Crowley smiled, utterly pleased, understanding the message immediately, and let him go. The fun had begun.

"What would they think of you?" asked the serpent, circling around the angel, stalking him as if he were a prey. "A principality in the clutches of a demon. That doesn't look good, does it?"

"Let me go now, and I promise I'll forgive you," tried Aziraphale, his voice trembling. "God's mercy is infinite. You can do things right."

The demon shoved him back roughly, pushing the blonde's back against the stone wall. The pitiful whimper that emerged from his lips caused the demon’s stomach to writhe, but the flush on Aziraphale's cheeks told him that he was feeling something very different from pain.

"I'm a demon," whispered the redhead, his face dangerously close. "I'm unforgivable, and I don't enjoy doing things right."

With a quick movement, he took the angel's wrists and lifted his hands over his head. Aziraphale twisted for several seconds, incredibly awkwardly, but was silent. Crowley's laughter struck him almost physically.

"You can't fight. Not like this, not without your power," the demon taunted him.

He licked the angel's chin, moving down to his neck, licking a path to his shoulder.

"Be a good boy. Maybe you might get out of here alive."

Aziraphale shuddered. "Please, please, let me go...," he cried, still struggling.

Crowley let go of one of his hands and grabbed the angel's shirt in an attempt to remove his clothes. Aziraphale took the opportunity and pushed back with his whole body, in a pathetic attempt to free himself, but only managed to get the demon to growl at him, enraged by his behaviour.

"Hold still!" ordered Crowley, again immobilizing him against the wall.

"Never! You won't have me without a fight!"

"You don't have your angelic strength. Not anymore. You are as weak as a human now, and you will do as I command you," sneered Crowley, squeezing the grip on his wrists.

The demon growled, annoyed, and snapped his fingers again. The angel felt a change in the room, and the result of the miracle around his wrists. Chains now hung from the wall and kept him imprisoned, holding his hands high up over his head, forcing him to stand upright. He tried pulling on, but he couldn't break the chains. This wasn't what he was used to - he didn't have his angelic strength to help him. He began to deeply understand how dangerous his situation was. The true meaning of being chained to a wall, completely helpless, with an enemy in front of him. A demon, watching him with wide eyes, almost salivating. The principality felt a shiver go down his back, seconds before Crowley rested his hands on him again.

"Please let me go, please."

"These clothes of yours... could get you into trouble, you know?" the snake insinued, stroking his fingers across the blonde's chest. "They're murdering aristocrats around here, and you look like one of them."

The demon moved a hand to Aziraphale's hair and intwined his fingers in the blond curls. He grabbed a handful of hair, jerked his head back, and smiled, pleased by his enemy's erratic breathing. Slowly he leaned in to his neck - white, soft, precious - and inhaled the scent of his skin. He stuck out his forked tongue and licked, only tasting it, enjoying the spicy aroma of his perfume and the sweetness of his lotion. The angel’s Adam's apple trembled under his touch, and his face flushed all over.

Crowley did not miss the flush, or the way his enemy had closed his eyes and relaxed his shoulders.

"You like this, do you?" he said with a smile, mocking him. "I can smell your lust, so dense, so hot..."

Aziraphale reacted to his accusations by jerking his body forward, fighting against the chains.

Crowley reached out and removed the scarf that wrapped his neck. The angel's eyes were still closed tightly, as he refused to watch the demon begin to remove the clothes that covered his body. Then, without warning, Aziraphale began to pray.

"Our Father in heaven, hallowed be thy name…”

"What are you doing?"

"Hallowed be thy name…"

"Stop!"

Despite having removed the angelic essence, the demon might have felt a tingle in his back, cold and menacing. The sacred words were certainly affecting him, especially as produced by an angelic tongue.

If Aziraphale had had all his power intact, the redhead would probably have been immediately reduced to ashes.

"Well, do you want to make this hard?" asked the snake, ignoring the prayer. "You have no idea who you're dealing with."

Crowley wrapped the white scarf over the angel's eyes and tied it tightly behind his head. Aziraphale shook his head, trying to avoid it, but without success. Now he could only sense the demon in front of him, feel the cold of the dungeon, hear the noise of the street. And the noise of his heart, beating frantically in his chest, trying to pump enough blood so that his body wouldn't panic. He had to force himself to stay calm, breathe, settle into this almost completely human corporation. Get used to the lack of sight, as all his other senses sharpened.

Crowley stroked a hand down to the principality's throat and pushed, squeezing his fingers hard enough to interfere with his air supply. Not quite blocking it off, at least. But Aziraphale swallowed, and kept praying. He wasn't going to give in.

"And lead us not into temptation…"

"All right," the demon smirked, pushing his hand lower along the angel's body, "I suppose I'll have to distract that pretty mouth."

In less than a second, his hand reached the white pants, and he squeezed tightly when he felt the warmth of the angel's effort under his palm. Aziraphale groaned, throwing in the beginning of a sharp "amen" that resounded throughout the dungeon.

"That's better," Crowley whispered, crowding him against the wall.

His hand began to rise and fall, squeezing more than necessary through the layers of cloth. The caresses, erratic and strong, made the angel's knees go soft. A strange mixture of pleasure and a touch of pain ran along his spine, groans unavoidably escaping his mouth.

"Do you like that?" asked Crowley, masturbating him hard. "Now you may pray."

Aziraphale closed his eyes tightly behind the blindfold, feeling a knot forming low in his groin. But he wasn't going to allow it. He wasn't going to come in his pants, nor was he going to do anything to please the demon.

"Silence?" asked the Crowley against the angel's mouth. "Come on," and Aziraphale could hear the smirk in his voice, "pray."

Aziraphale closed his lips tightly, emitting guttural groans as he felt his orgasm gather. However, the snake's tongue at his throat distracted him. Warm breath made his hair stand on end, and he could swear Crowley was smiling. He could feel his teeth teasing him.

"Pray for me, angel."

Aziraphale felt the fluid gather between his thighs, the promise of what would be a devastating orgasm. In his mind, his thoughts swirled meaninglessly, and he couldn’t help getting carried away, letting the demon do whatever he wanted to his body.

Crowley's cold hand then found its way to his bare skin, having slunk in under his shirt, and his teeth dug into the principality's throat. Aziraphale couldn’t stop the shout that flew from his throat, and the snake used the moment to kiss him greedily, exploring his mouth to his liking.

"Pray!" ordered Crowley.

The blonde shook his head, and in one swift move managed to bite his enemy's lower lip, hard, making the redhead relinquish his mouth.

"Ne... Never," replied the angel, still attempting disobedience. "Never... Never, for you."

With a growl, the demon retreated. He stepped back and observed his work. Aziraphale's clothes where a wreck, his hands held strongly in the shackles, his legs weak and struggling to hold him up, and his breathing erratic, desperate, his human lungs trying to hoard as much air as they could.

The angel was a complete disaster, helpless, and soft. And his, entirely his.

"I think we should have a little more fun," the demon remarked, approaching again. His lip throbbed, unbloodied but recalling the principality's bite.

"Enough, please. I... I can't."

Crowley moved his hands to Aziraphale's trousers and pushed them down sharply. The angel held his breath when he felt the cold crash into his skin, and groaned as he felt his adversary's tongue on his belly, only inches above where his hair began.

"Yesss, you can," answered the demon with a hiss, roughly spreading the legs of the principality. "You can, and you will."

Aziraphale cried out and pulled at his chains again, frustrated. He tried to clamp his legs together, but they collided with Crowley's hands. He was held, literally, under his command. Completely at his mercy.

"You sssmell ssso good," the demon breathed, nosing into his effort. "Did I prepare you enough?" he teased. "I wouldn't want to hurt you..."

The angel frowned. His trousers had fallen to his ankles as had his pants, but his stockings were still in place. His cock, embarrassingly interested, was rising to rub against Crowley's face. He could feel it, the demon’s breath, so close, his hands holding his thighs firmly. The hands raised his legs and placed them on bony shoulders, holding him in place and pushing him up the wall. Aziraphale subconsciously appreciated the gesture, feeling the pressure on his wrists diminishing. And the demon settled in, with free access to the angel’s sex.

"That's right, lean back, relax," the snake murmured. "Let me take care of everything."

"Please don't. Let me go," he whined.

"Oh, creature," spoke the demon, with his eyes fixed on the cock in front of him, "you really should start praying," and removed his shades with a miracle.

Without warning, the demon took the effort to his mouth, sucking it down his throat. The angel trembled and melted, moaning under his touch. At that moment, with Aziraphale’s effort shaking inside him, Crowley thanked the miracle of this moment.

"Ah!" the angel cried.

Crowley hadn't moved another inch. His nose was buried in short white curls, smelling the shampoo with delight. He only began to slide back when a pitiful groan escaped the angel's lips.

He clenched the white thighs tightly in his fingers and squeezed hard, intending to leave marks on the milky skin. His serpentine tongue clung to the base of his cock, and he squeezed it down, milking it slowly. All his ears heard was incoherent babbling and groaning, Aziraphale fighting like a demented soul against the chains, and his toes contracting, his whole body trembling over him.

"Stop, please, I... I'm goin--, "

Quickly, the snake withdrew. He could taste the angel's pre-seminal fluid on his tongue, but he wasn't going to let it happen so soon. He didn’t want the fun to end so quickly.

"No, you won't." The demon bit both thighs hard, before setting the angel’s feet back on the floor, and then began kissing a path upwards.

With his claws materialized, he began to cut into the clothes that still separated him from all that tender white skin, and the angel closing his legs just added to the fun.

"Look at you," he said, biting his hip, "being used by a demon."

Aziraphale groaned in answer. He couldn't find the words. His throat felt dry and his cock throbbed. He longed for his release. He wanted to feel the demon's mouth on him again, warm, his throat sticky and exciting. He wanted, wanted, wanted, even though he knew he shouldn't. Because he was an angel. An angel did not succumb to the desires of the flesh. But his flesh was now that of a human, and it did not seem to answer to those rules. So it wasn't his fault, was it? It wasn't his fault that he liked it, that he wanted it. They weren't going to kill him for allowing this to happen... Or maybe it was his fault. Maybe they would. Or maybe he'd die if he didn't come. He would certainly die if the demon kept nipping at his hip this way, for God's sake, at his belly, and pulling his pubic hair, Oh, dear Lord. Please help me.

Crowley had become obsessed with his belly button.

"You should keep it," he stuck out his tongue and licked it. Then left a bite there and continued to climb up his chest.

The demon took his shirt in hand and ripped it in two, earning a cry from the angel. His clothes were now in shreds, only debris left from what had once been a beautiful silk French suit. Crowley stood again, but his mouth continued to meander until his lips reached a nipple. AS he nibbled there, he grabbed the base of Aziraphale's cock and squeezed it, making sure he wouldn't come without permission.

The blonde squealed and pressed himself harder against the wall, trying to flee his enemy, but without success. Crowley concentrated on the right nipple, licking and biting, playing it with his teeth until he left it red, and then passed to the other, blowing on it, and then placing his hot mouth there as well. Aziraphale was a sea of groans under his touch, his legs twisted and pushing against Crowley's hand, which kept squeezing, mercilessly holding his climax in, punishing him.

"I'm going to fuck you until you yell my name," the demon declared, shoving his body sharply against the angel. "You will pray to me. I will be your new god."

Crowley took him by the hips and turned him, placing him facing the wall, but the cry that came out of Aziraphale's mouth stopped him immediately.

"Ah! Apple! Apple..."

The demon snapping his fingers and the blindfold and chains disappeared. Aziraphale leaned against the wall, his forehead resting against the cold stone, and Crowley hugged him from behind, gently comforting him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," whispered the demon in his ear, "what happened?"

"Nothing, nothing, darling..." Aziraphale replied, struggling to breathe. "I'm fine."

"Then why did you..."

"The chains," answered the principality, nodding up at the wall and the ring that had held them.

Crowley took some time to figure it out, but then he understood. By turning Aziraphale, the chains had twisted, shortening them, pulling his wrists too high.

"Sorry, dove. I should have anticipated."

"It’s all right, my love."

The demon hugged him tighter, leaving a tender kiss on his neck. Aziraphale pressed himself back into the heat, as a cat would against his owner's legs.

"Are you having fun?"

"Of course I am, dearest. What about you?"

"Yes, very much," he purred against his back, surrounding him with his arms possessively. "I had forgotten how good you looked in that suit." Mischieviously, he took the angel's ear in his lips, licking under the lobe. "Do you want to go on?"

"Yes, please..."

The principality raised his arms again, and Crowley smiled. With a snap of his fingers, shackles with longer chains appeared, chains that would suit the new position, pulling a bit, but not too much. Just to make sure, the demon lowered his hands to his husband's luscious cheeks and squeezed, growling a question.

"Colour?"

"Green!" replied the angel, desperately.

The demon smacked his arse, then got back into the role, happy to get on with the game.

Crowley rubbed himself against his beloved's body and wrapped a hand around his throat. Aziraphale groaned over the new restriction, but accepted it with submission, reminding himself that he should not be enjoying this. No, not at all.

"Open your legs for me..." whispered the demon in his ear, squeezing his throat.

The angel squeezed his thighs together desperately, angering his captor. Crowley forced a knee between his legs and felt his angel's body tremble, anticipating. Then the hand on his throat moved up to Aziraphale's little mouth, and a snap resounded in the dungeon. A simple demonic miracle left the demon naked, with his cock fully lubricated.

"Suck," ordered the redhead, pressing his fingers against Aziraphale's lips.

The angel threw his head back and away, crashing into the demon's shoulder.

"Well, I could shove my cock into you without preparing you. Do you want that?"

Aziraphale trembled. He knew his own body could take it, but he knew nothing of this new human corporation. It was fragile, without his angelic strength to care for it. It would be painful, he knew, and he knew Crowley's miracled lubrication would not be enough.

"I'm showing you mercy," whispered the demon in his ear. "I can prepare you, or I can fuck you like this, and you'll have to hope that your gorgeous arse will take me. You choose."

Aziraphale hesitated, but then opened his lips, allowing the demon's fingers to enter. He sucked them gently, trying to work it in.

With an evil grin, Crowley moved his free hand to one of the angel's battered nipples and pinched. Aziraphale jumped, and the pain went directly to his effort. He groaned and bit one of the demon's fingers hard. Annoyed, Crowley lowered his hand from the  principality's mouth back down to his throat and pulled back, squeezing again.

"Don't misbehave again."

The angel growled, unable to speak. The demon's other hand was still on his chest, gently scratching his nipples with his fingernails, sending electric shocks to his spine.

"You don't want me to put a ring on you, do you?"

Aziraphale groaned in pain. They had tried that before, and had had a very good time with it. But he didn't want anything to prevent his orgasm now. It would be quite a punishment, and Crowley knew it. Chained as he was, only the demon would be able to decide when to take it off. He would deny him his deliverance, he would have him begging, for God's sake, for how long? The idea was exciting and perverse. He hated it and loved it at the same time.

"No... No, please."

"No?" Crowley smiled. He knew the angel would think about it for a few seconds, the fool hedonist. "Then you’d better cooperate," he whispered, pressing with his body. "Open your legs for me again, angel."

With another groan, Aziraphale obeyed, opening his legs to give the demon more room to move. Crowley lowered a wet finger, groped the angel's entrance, and smiled when he received a sharp growl in response. The other hand grasped the principality's hair and pulled, turning Aziraphale's face to one side. The angel's cheeks were red as an apple, and his forehead was drenched in sweat. The demon began to move his finger and drank in the angel's groan, catching his mouth in a rough kiss. Crowley's tongue mercilessly explored, drank, and asked for more. With a small smile, he added a second finger, and pulled even harder on the white hair when Aziraphale tried to break the kiss. All the angel wanted to do was moan, but he couldn't do it. Not while he had the demon's mouth violating his, smothering all his sounds.

When the redhead added a third finger, he let go of the angel's hair and lowered that hand to his hip, immobilizing him. Aziraphale's moans were getting louder, and his body was shaking violently, preparing for an orgasm. But then Crowley’s hand was there again, squeezing his cock once more, blocking his release. Aziraphale whined like an injured dog, and the demon lowered his lips to his neck to leave wet, lazy kisses.

"Did I give you permission to come?" asked Crowley, with his fingers surrounding the angel's effort. "You're mine now, and you'll follow my orders!"

"Please, please..."

"Please what?"

Aziraphale tried to close his thighs to feel some kind of friction, but the demon just separated them further with his knee.

"Please, let me..."

"Let you?" Crowley smiled. "Let you be? Of course. I can leave right now and leave you like this, chained in this cold cell. I'm sure someone will find you, eventually," he hissed, moving his fingers inside the blonde. "I can send heaven the photos I have, of you and that demon. You are good friends, aren’t you? They’d surely love to know. Is that what you want?” Aziraphale shook his head. “Or do you want someone else to find you?” He smiled, making the offer, “Do you want to be someone else's whore?”

"Ah!" the angel cried with a frown. "Let me, please..." he took a deep breath, feeling his lungs burn.

“Let you go, leave you…” The demon snarled, full of anger. “I'm being nice to you, angel. I'm being gentle," he snapped, leaning in to bite Aziraphale's neck.

“Please…,” Aziraphale sighed weakly, “let me finish.”

Crowley stopped immediately. Aziraphale's voice sounded totally affected, and there were tears in the corners of his eyes. His head was resting against the demon’s shoulder, and he was begging. He wasn't begging him to let him go, he was begging him for his orgasm. The demon smiled, satisfied with himself. He had him exactly where he wanted him.

He quickly let go of the angel's effort and took him by his hips, pulling them back to stabilize him. He lined his own cock up with the entrance of the blonde and pushed in, slowly breaking through the tight rings of his hole. He could feel Aziraphale's erratic movements under his hands and the jingle of the chains holding the angel's weight tightly upright.

"I'll tell you when you can let go," he warned him, waiting for his enemy's body to be relax enough to take him completely. "If you come without my permission, I'll punish you. Understood?"

Aziraphale did not respond, too distracted by the feeling of his whole trembling body and the blood that pounded through his veins. He felt full, completely excited and full. The pressure in his arse was painful and wonderful at the same time. With a growl, Crowley tugged at his hair again, sending a shock in to his lower belly once more.

"Understood?" repeated the demon.

Aziraphale, couldn’t hear his words, but nodded.

The demon began to press against him, pushing in gently. Aziraphale's struggled to keep his legs stiff and not fall to his knees. Crowley squeezed his hip, pulling it back, gradually increasing his pace. The angel's groans became increasingly sharp and desperate. The redhead pushed harder, sure he’d found his partner's prostate, that sweet spot inside him that made him scream and melt. The front of his body against the cold wall, dangling from the chains and pressed from behind, Aziraphale’s body flinched as he helplessly came against the stone, in one last groan that ended up breaking in his throat.

Crowley pushed in one more time, then stopped. His own orgasm was gathering, but Aziraphale’s release required his attention. With a snap of his fingers, the chains disappeared again, and he caught the angel's weakened body as it collapsed. The demon waited a few seconds, long enough for Aziraphale to catch his breath, and then released him, letting him fall to the ground on his knees.

"Turn around," he ordered.

Aziraphale could feel his heartbeat in his ears, throbbing loudly, and Crowley's voice in the distance. But his body felt heavy, and he turned slowly. In front of him, the demon's cock stood erect, inches from his face, still lubricated and dripping.

"What did I tell you?" demanded Crowley, slowly threading his fingers through blond hair. "Did I give you permission?"

The angel looked up to meet the amber eyes. There was a twinkle in them, but there was also anger. A hint of fury. Crowley's dick really had to hurt, and he was holding back.

"N-no."

"No, what?" asked the snake, pulling his hair hard.

"Ah, no!" cried the angel. "No, sir."

"Good."

The demon took his cock and put it to the angel's plump lips. Aziraphale refused to open his mouth out of sheer whim, but Crowley growled, annoyed, squeezing his grip on the sweaty curls.

Outside in the distance, they heard the footsteps of intruders and screams from another poor bastard who was about to die on the guillotine. Crowley smiled, proud of his own special effects.

"I could leave you here, naked and gagged. You don't have your powers. How will you save yourself from this one, angel?" he mocked. "They'd use your body the way they wanted, and then you'd lose this pretty head of yours," he could see the little glow of fear in the blue eyes. "How will you explain that, up there?"

Aziraphale's clasped his hands tightly, his wrists still sore from the chains, his whole body trembling with the unknown voices.

"I can’t, please..." he asked, completely humiliated. "Please help me."

The demon smiled once more. His angel's face was red with shame, but his cock had begun to swell again.

"Of course I will, you silly little creature." In an outburst of tenderness, Crowley smoothed his fingers down Aziraphale's cheek, but then quickly returned to the present. "But first," he said, earning a strange look from the blonde, "open that pretty mouth for me."

Aziraphale obeyed. Crowley's scent flooded his taste buds, and he lifted his hands to the bony hips in front of him, out of habit. Despite the humiliation of seconds ago, the angel could not help but moan at the taste of the demon. It was salty and spicy, and strangely citrusy. His tongue betrayed him for a moment and he licked gladly, and the redhead smiled, pleased.

"What would the other angels say if they saw you like this?" Crowley asked, pushing deeper. "Enjoying this like any human would. Giving in to sin." He grunted from the hot tongue on his skin. "Sucking my dick like you're a fucking expert."

Aziraphale buried his fingernails in the demon's arse, and Crowley squeezed the grip in his hair in response. With a quick movement he pushed his hips forward and buried himself even farther back in the angel's throat, fucking him harder. However, Aziraphale used his hands to push him back and leaned down to the side, completely overwhelmed by the movement.

The demon frowned. He didn't like to see the angel cough like that, but Aziraphale had been very clear about what he wanted. And he wanted to feel a human body, with all the good and the bad, with every weakness it had. But a little pain in his wrists was one thing, and a sore throat that prevented him from speaking was another. Maybe he wanted to say the safe word, maybe Crowley had pushed too hard…

"Angel..."

Aziraphale raised his face. There were little tears in the corners of his eyes, but they were bathed in a dark blue. He had fully recovered now, and was staring at the demon with that look and that glow that said everything he couldn’t.

Crowley sighed and smiled. If Aziraphale wanted him to take away the nausea with a miracle, he'd ask for it, and if he wanted to say the safe word, he'd have said it by now. Instead, the blonde got back up on his knees, lifted his chin and opened his mouth, silently asking if Crowley wanted to continue.

And how in hell could the demon deny Aziraphale anything?

The redhead pushed in again, and this time the angel accepted it, settling down and relaxing. Crowley moved one of his hands to the nape of the blonde’s neck and stroked his hair gently, trying to give him some security with a slight touch. He wanted to tell him how beautiful he looked, radiant, taking him completely with his mouth, moaning and holding on, savouring it like he was eating a dessert. He looked sexy and beautiful, and Crowley needed to tell him, as he had so many other times when he had him in bed, moaning his name. But he held back, clenching his teeth as he felt Aziraphale's tongue and the wonderful way he had started sucking. He'd tell him later, and let him know how precious he was, how good he was, his angel, that gluttonous bastard. The demon could melt just looking at him, and he was supposed to be the one in control this time.

"That's it, all right." he flattered him, feeling the need to speak. "Are you enjoying your punishment?"

Aziraphale did not respond. His eyes were closed and his breathing was choppy, taking advantage of every time Crowley pulled out. Unable to control himself, the angel wrapped his fingers around his own cock, now swollen and pink, but the demon growled when he noticed his intentions. With another little demonic miracle, Aziraphale's hands were tied behind his back with a beautiful black silk cord, and the angel groaned sadly, frowning.

"I'm afraid that won't be allowed," remarked the demon, placing his hands on the principality's cheeks. "Do a good job, and maybe I’ll reward you."

With that prize in mind, Aziraphale sucked hard again, recommitted to what he was doing. His tongue flicked and licked the tip of the redhead’s cock like candy, and he let out his teeth, just a little, nipping at Crowley's length, just as he knew he liked it.

"That's… cheating," hissed the serpent, but pressed the angel's cheeks tightly. "You are a... bastard. I'm going... I'm going to..."

Crowley tried to retreat, unsure what the angel wanted, but Aziraphale pushed his body forward, further relaxing his throat and rolling his eyes back. The demon then gripped his hair and pushed in for the last time, coming into the welcoming mouth of the principality.

After several seconds, Crowley withdrew. He could feel the tingling from the tips of his toes up his whole electrified body, thanks to the wonderful orgasm. Aziraphale coughed a little and slumped forward. He let out a pitiful groan, and the demon knelt in front of him. Gently, Crowley cradled his face between his hands and pushed his sweaty hair from his forehead. Aziraphale still had a trace of his essence on his lips, and his eyes were still closed.

"Water...," he managed to articulate with the hoarse voice.

Crowley snapped his fingers, and a glass of water appeared in his hands. He held it to Aziraphale's dry mouth and slowly let him sip. Aziraphale swallowed, his Adam's apple moving up and down, tempting the demon, who laid a hand on his throat where he had left a bite. Aziraphale's skin was beautiful, pure, with a light layer of blonde hair that made him look even more heavenly, the most beautiful creature of all.

When he finished drinking, Crowley made the glass disappear and waited for his husband to recover. He wasn't sure how much a human body could tire, but he was beginning to think that maybe it was time to stop.

"Crowley..."

Okay. He'd say so. He’d ask him to stop for today. It was for the best. Not too much should be demanded.

"Yes, angel?"

"My hands..."

The demon blinked.

"Oh, of course."

He untied Aziraphale's hands, and the angel wrapped them around him quickly, settling his head into the space between his neck and shoulder. He inhaled the scent of the redhead and began to leave lazy kisses there, intermingled with small bites.

"How do you feel, angel?"

"Good," replied Aziraphale with a lopsided smile. "Better than ever."

"You don't think... that we should stop?"

The kisses stopped. The angel leaned back, his eyes again met the amber ones.

"You want to stop?"

"You don't want to stop?"

"I feel good. Perfectly fine, in fact."

"Don't you feel tired?"

"Yes, but..."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Crowley, we've talked about this," whispered Aziraphale, taking the face of the demon in his hands. "I know you would never hurt me. I'm enjoying this."

The redhead frowned for a moment, but then relaxed under the sweet gaze of the angel. It was true, they had spoken before, and they had established the stoplight colours and the safe word. They had talked about what they liked and what they didn't, even though they left things out so that it didn't seem too staged.

They were both enjoying it, that was the point.

"Do you want to go on?" asked Aziraphale carefully. "It's okay if you don't want to. We can take a break."

"No, Angel, I'm fine. I'm okay if you're okay."

The blonde smiled, scouring Crowley's back, lowering his hands playfully. "I'm okay if you're okay," he told him, leaning in to his face to kiss him again. "Let's go on, darling," he whispered, still in the kiss, and licked the demon's lower lip delicately. "Please..."

Crowley growled. He set a hand at the angel's nape and pressed it hard, causing the delicate kiss to quickly evolve into a passionate and demanding one. Aziraphale groaned and laughed lightly, feeling completely rejuvenated.

"Well," began Crowley, breaking the kiss. "How about we try something a little different now?"

The demon lifted the angel's hands to his mouth and kissed his palms. Then he turned to his wrists, and kissed the skin made red by the chains. Aziraphale's pulse was pounding. He slowly raised his hands to the blonde, stunning him with more kisses on his neck, and then, when he had the angel with his eyes closed and distracted, he snapped his fingers, and new chains appeared around his wrists, pressing into his flesh. But this time, the devil added velvet to the shackles, only as a small favour. Aziraphale looked up, confused. The chains on the wall were gone, but now they were over his head, hanging from the ceiling by a creative demonic miracle, pulling his arms upwards.

"Get up," ordered Crowley sternly.

The angel obeyed with curiosity. The chains adjusted to his movements. He had total mobility throughout the dungeon, but his arms would always be held tightly upwards. The blond smiled. His husband could be very creative when he tried.

"Well," began the redhead, approaching the angel. "Let's change the game a little bit, shall we?"

He set a hand on Aziraphale's crotch and devoted his mouth to kissing his shoulder. The angel felt a strange burning within him, and then the indescribable tingling of a miracle. Even without his essence, he’d recognize Crowley’s miracles anywhere. They always had this hallmark, a subtle smell of fuel and leather in the air. The demon grabbed his hip and approached him roughly, as his mouth desperately searched for the angel's lips. Aziraphale groaned into the kiss, aware at last of the new effort that was now manifest between his legs.

With a little push, the angel stepped back. "What a... what is this?" he asked, his voice frightened and innocent.

"That," answered the demon, approaching slowly, "is mine."

"No, no, please," implored Aziraphale. His back hit the wall again, and he could feel the moisture forming between his thighs.

Crowley leaned against him and quieted him with a violent kiss, immobilizing him with one hand on his throat. He quickly moved his other hand to the angel's new effort and introduced one of his fingers into the wetness, struggling to find his clitoris with his thumb.

"Hold still!"

"Stop! Please! Ah!" Aziraphale groaned, shaking violently.

Crowley inserted another finger and smiled. He could feel the angel's moisture soaking his hand, but his body resisted. Aziraphale squealed like an animal, between moans of pleasure and cries of fear.

Without much thought, the demon growled and snapped his fingers. A silk belt appeared around his waist and Aziraphale's waist, forcing them to stay together and still. The angel's skin bulged out at the sides, where the belt squeezed his belly, and this caused Crowley to moan. His lust soared, and he pulled his fingers out of the angel's battered effort, replacing them with his newly lubricated cock. In a single plunge, he penetrated Aziraphale, gripping him by his abundant thighs to lift him, and the blonde, in a desperate attempt to obey, wrapped his legs around the demon's hips.

Aziraphale's head hit the wall with every thrust, but the angel couldn’t complain. Crowley’s rudeness had taken him by surprise, but he was also taking him to indescribable levels of pleasure. This was what he wanted. This was what he’d asked for. To be ravished by a demon against a wall, used over and over again. To be taken by Crowley in the Bastille, as he had so often fantasized before.

Crowley couldn't stop moaning. He caressed Aziraphale's hips, his thighs, the rolls of his belly. He moved his hands to his nipples and pulled at them until they were red and hot. Blinded by lust, he moved his mouth to the angel's armpits and left kisses there, and on his chest, on his shoulders. He left deep bruises on his neck, which he then kissed gently. He penetrated him again and again, mercilessly, growling a little more each time, and lapped up the tears of pleasure that escaped from Aziraphale's eyes when he struck that sweet spot inside him. Out of sheer wickedness, he lowered his hands and slapped his arse, not stopping until the angel screamed. He wanted to mark him, shake him, own him, and fill him. He wanted to make him his, and for no one to ever believe otherwise. His demonic instinct drove to want to bite him, attack him, break him. All of him loved Aziraphale.

"Crowley, please, please!" the angel cried.

The demon knew what he wanted, of course he knew. But he wasn't going to give it to him, not at this time. Aziraphale wanted him to be in control, right? And control of the situations required self-control. So Crowley, instead of thrusting harder and faster, as he knew the angel wanted... stopped. He took a deep breath, unfastened the belt that joined them, and withdrew, leaving Aziraphale with his legs trembling against the cold stone wall. The angel groaned, hurt. His body felt empty, bewildered, and his effort ached. He could feel his heart in his ears, in his chest, about to burst, and between his legs. Stimulation disappearing and leaving room for pain. All his skin tingled with electricity.

"Why... why?"

Crowley smiled. Aziraphale looked terrible. Sweaty, with his hair tousled, his precious curls messy and wild. His neck covered in bite marks, marks of fingers on his hips, and he looked vulnerable, needy, helpless. Oh, how he wished he could photograph him like this so he could keep that image forever.

With his breath choppy and a devilish smile on his lips, Crowley wrapped a hand around his cock and stroked. Aziraphale was beautiful like this, and he didn't want to waste it. It would be a sin not to come just by looking at him.

"No, no! Please!" cried the angel.

Aziraphale groaned, frustrated and annoyed. His pussy was throbbing and his legs were about to collapse, but none of that mattered to him now. With his hands chained overhead, he couldn't touch himself, or touch Crowley. And more importantly, Crowley wasn't touching him. He was giving himself pleasure right in front of him, the damned one.

Damn, damn, damned demon.

And Aziraphale felt tears returned to his eyes, not knowing what else to do.

"Please, please, please..."

With that last plea in his ears, Crowley came into his hand, with a sharper groan than he would have liked. The angel shut up immediately, breathing deeply, trying to calm down. He was a principality, he was heavenly, he was pure, and all that shit that he had to keep repeating to himself. He couldn't beg for this, he couldn't.

The demon approached, almost fully recovered from his second orgasm. "Please?" he asked mockingly. "Please what?"

Slowly, he let his hands caress the angel's belly, slowly lowering, so slowly. Aziraphale's breathing was controlled, but only a little. Soon that facade of innocence would fall again, Crowley knew it. He just had to touch the right buttons.

"What do you want, Aziraphale?" hissed the snake, resting one of his fingers on the angel's clit. "Tell me."

Aziraphale held his breath. He wasn't going to do it, not after the punishment he had  received. Crowley was playing dirty, that wasn't fair. Oh, but it felt so good. The demon's fingers... Aziraphale would Fall only for those fingers.

"Tell me what you need."

"Please."

Crowley began massaging his clit in slow circles, torturing him. "Tell me what you want."

Aziraphale began moaning. The demon was pressing and twisting. He was mistreating him, making him beg, waiting for the angel to come with just his fingers. It was cruel. He was being deliciously cruel. But it wasn't enough. Aziraphale closed his eyes. He needed to feel full, used, he needed to have Crowley inside him.

"I... I need you." He tried to breathe, his voice shaky and scraped. "Please... I need you."

Crowley smiled. He slowly leaned in, opened his mouth, and planted a sticky kiss on the angel's lips, to which Aziraphale answered desperately. The demon's tongue penetrated his mouth as his fingers caressed his effort, weakly groping his entrance, and mocked him.

"Well," growled the redhead, walking away once more, the distance earning himself a hurt groan. "What do you need from me?"

Aziraphale looked him in the eye. He wanted to know if it was true, if Crowley would really force him to say it. Blue met amber with devastating intensity, but neither of them let himself be defeated. The demon looked at him the way he would look at anyone, totally indifferent, and the angel frowned, vulnerable and hungry. He wanted Crowley to take care of him, as he always did. He wanted that, he needed that. He didn't want to play anymore.

"I need you," he whimpered, hoping it would be enough.

"I have no pity for you, angel," the demon answered. "Tell me what you want, exactly. Tell me, even if it goes against your nature." He walked a step farther away. "Or I could just go, and you can keep playing God's Favourite Angel."

"No, no!" Aziraphale cried, taking a step towards the redhead.

"Speak then."

Aziraphale's face was red. His cheeks were hot, and his eyes were a beautiful deep, dark blue. He was both embarrassed and excited. Seeing Crowley acting so differently, leading the situation, proving how bad he could be... it was something dark that he craved and hated at the same time.

"Please..." he began, closing his eyes as he sighed. "Please... fuck me."

"Tell me as if you really wanted it," Crowley growled, annoyed. He had approached him again, but his voice was now hoarse, consumed by lust. "Do you want to sin, angel?"

Aziraphale nailed him with his eyes. He wasn't an angel anymore. Not at all, now. Not theirs. He wanted to do it. He had wanted him back in that real dungeon, and he wanted him now. He wanted him madly. So, after a couple of seconds, he nodded slowly.

"Then tell me as if you wanted to."

They hadn't planned this, but maybe it was better this way. They were still discovering new things about each other. Wounds to heal, steps to take, talks to have.... And if Crowley needed Aziraphale to say it, then the angel would. He'd tell him it wasn't his fault, over and over again. That he loved him too, before, now, and forever.

"I want to sin with you," the angel declared, with his voice decided this time. "Fuck me, Crowley. Please."

The demon sighed with relief. For some reason, he had been holding his breath unintentionally, but now he relaxed. He’d needed to hear Aziraphale say it. He needed him to agree, and he wanted to confirm whether what he’d believed back then was true. That time, the first time in the Bastille, he had desired it, but he had been held back. A demon like him, with nothing to offer, could not stain Aziraphale... not unless the angel wanted him to. That's why he needed to know that he’d wanted it back then, and that he wanted it now, too.

The demon snapped his fingers and a couch appeared behind him. With a smile on his lips, he sat down, spread his knees apart, and massaged his cock again.

"Well, little angel..." he began, passing a hand across the back of the sofa. "Why don't you fuck you, yourself?"

Something dark pierced Aziraphale's gaze. He quickly walked to Crowley and knelt on the couch, with his knees straddling those narrow hips. It was a nuisance having his arms held up, but he managed to position himself atop the demon's effort and, without thinking, he looked into those eyes amber before dropping. He wanted Crowley to see. He wanted him to know how much he wanted this, to be his, to belong to him. He wanted him to see how desperate he was to serve him.

Crowley wasted no time.

He held on to Aziraphale's hips and pushed. The angel dropped onto him tightly and squealed, feeling Crowley's sharp claws on the skin of his legs, on his thighs, on his arse. He found himself pressed against that lean body, trapped, and all he could do was fight to breathe. After a few seconds, he noticed that Crowley had stopped moving, and he understood what needed to be done. He swayed forward, slowly, just as he knew he liked it, and began to gain speed.

The demon growled. Aziraphale began to penetrate himself repeatedly, and Crowley withdrew his hands. He wanted to touch the angel, take him and make it his own forcefully, but he also wanted this. The image of Aziraphale riding him was beautiful. The blonde set his own rhythm, groaned, closed his eyes, and threw his head back, moved his hands and pulled against the chains, looking for any leverage that would allow him to generate more pleasure. Quickly, Aziraphale's moans and the noise of their slapping skin echoed against the stone walls, overshadowing the light rain that had begun to fall outside. But the weather suddenly changed. The wind was now pounding against the windows, and the light had begun to flicker and flash, and even though Aziraphale was too desperate to notice, Crowley couldn't help but frown.

The illusion he had formed in his living room was beginning to falter and, for some reason, the images appeared and disappeared. With a movement of his head, the demon observed how the candles around them were going out, letting Aziraphale's strength come back. His power was returning to him, but he was more concerned with trying to reach his orgasm than with what was going on around him.

"Ah! Aah, fuck!" cried the angel.

Crowley quickly refocused. With a strong twist, Aziraphale broke the chains, then set his hands on the back of the sofa, helping to push himself harder. A wave of celestial power struck Crowley's chest and crashed into his demonic power, in the kind of dance and battle they had been engaged in six thousand years ago. Aziraphale's love now spread in the air, and so did his lust, his groans, the adoration he felt for Crowley, and his desire, all as he reached his orgasm and squeezed around the demon's cock, milking him devastatingly.

Crowley groaned and growled. He took his husband by the hips, turned them, and pushed him against the couch. He hadn't reached his own orgasm yet, but he didn't care. He knew what he could give Aziraphale, and now that his instincts had come to the surface, he knew he could be rougher. He had also promised the angel that he would teach him how wonderful it could be to have a multiple orgasm, and he was a demon of his word.

He lifted himself away from Aziraphale carefully, and smiled when the angel complained. His body was scattered, abundant, trembling, and sweaty on the sofa. It was a beautiful view. Crowley began kissing his belly, slowly moving down to his crotch, but Aziraphale grabbed him by the hair tightly as he felt his breath there.

"No, please..." he cried, still badly affected. "I don't think... I don't think I can take it..."

The snake knew immediately that he was serious this time, so he used a soft, sweet voice to speak. "But I know you can, dove. You'll like it. I'll make you feel good..." he promised him, caressing his legs delicately. "Let me prove it to you. I know you can take what I have to give you." He smiled, looking him in the eye, as if he were completely innocent. "Would you do that for me?"

Aziraphale bit his lower lip. He had asked Crowley for many things, but he knew that now everything had shifted, become something different. However, he was eager to continue. Completely tired and incoherent, but still in good spirits, and Crowley's gaze, like that of a little boy who was being denied a treat... God, he just couldn't, with that look.

"Yes."

"Yes?" The demon asked, insecure. All he wanted was to please Aziraphale, take him out of his comfort zone and prove to him, as always, that having sex was a wonderful thing. But he didn't want to push him too hard. "Are you sure?"

The angel smiled. He didn't know how they had gone from a dominant demon to one who asked, but he loved Crowley in all his facets. "Yes, love." He held his breath. His heart was beating hard again. "Do what you want with me."

The amber eyes shone with desire and amusement. Crowley quickly took the fat thighs and separated them, lowering his mouth to meet the taste of Aziraphale. The angel, closing his eyes tightly, bent his back with a groan and grabbed at the couch, trying to hold on to anything he could reach. Crowley began to eat him hungrily, as if he had never tasted anything so delicious in his life. His serpentine tongue teased Aziraphale's effort and then penetrated him, reaching deep into a rough surface. The angel squealed, kicked at the demon's back, and his whole body trembled. Apparently, he'd changed his mind now.

"Ah! Mo-more!" babbled the blonde, unable to say anything else.

Crowley performed a small demonic miracle and now lubricated fingers, began to work Aziraphale's effort. A second later, he raised his lips to suck the angel's clit and began to penetrate him with his hand. The fat thighs closed around him, but he pushed one of them over his shoulder with his free hand, gaining more mobility. Aziraphale buried his fingernails in the armrest of the sofa and began moaning senselessly, quickly reaching his second orgasm and arching his back into it, crying out as he came.

Crowley smiled when he felt his hand soaked. Aziraphale's body twisted and succumbed to spasms, but he knew he couldn't waste any time. With the little sanity he had left, he climbed onto the sofa, lined himself up at Aziraphale's entrance and penetrated him in one stroke, filling him at once, delighting that his husband was as lubricated and hot as ever. Without letting a second pass, he began to thrust slowly into the angel, pulling out almost completely out and re-entering. Aziraphale still had his eyes closed and his hands slung over his head.

"Angel, ..." Crowley called him, cupping a hand to his cheek, "are you all right?"

Aziraphale was slow to respond. He couldn't explain how he felt. His legs did not seem to answer to him, and his head was a sea of incomplete thoughts. All he felt was burning, and a new orgasm forming slowly, but his body had not yet recovered from the previous one. The only thing that made sense was that Crowley was moving in him. His breathing, his hands, his lips on his neck.

After a few seconds, he nodded, gasping, unable to form words.

The demon smiled. He planted a kiss on the angel's chest and moved one of his hands down, massaging circles on the battered clit, earning new groans and jolts from his husband. Trying at last to achieve his own orgasm, he began to penetrate faster and deeper. Aziraphale screamed, clasped his hands around Crowley’s narrow waist, and wrapped his legs around his hips, desperately squeezing against him to help him in whatever he wanted to do. A new orgasm suddenly overwhelmed him, and he could feel Crowley growl. The demon kept penetrating him, stronger, faster, fiercer, snapping his hips, and another orgasm, another mountain of pleasure swept him away. His blue eyes seemed to be spinning, and his joints began to ache, but he could not stop moaning, shaking, and Crowley kept thrusting until, with one last deep push, the redhead growled hard and spilled. He came inside Aziraphale, filling him completely, and the angel growled a groan, scratching his husband's back with his fingernails.

Neither of them spoke or moved for many long seconds.

Aziraphale concentrated on his breathing. Crowley had tried to pull away, but he had embraced him with all the force he could muster. He didn't want the demon to leave. He wanted to feel his weight, his breathing on his neck, his cock still inside him, filling him completely, and his semen slipping down his thighs. The redhead, willing to please him, stayed still, only caressing the white hair sweetly, threading his long fingers between his husband's curls, breathing slowly.

After what could have been minutes, hours, or years, the redhead spoke.

"Let's clean you up."

"No…"

"Come on, angel," he smiled, finding it funny that his husband still had his eyes closed.

Reluctantly, Aziraphale let go of his husband's body. Crowley got up, looked the angel over, and crouched down, leaving a kiss on his forehead before lifting him bodily in his arms and carried him to the bath. Aziraphale was always embarrassed when Crowley carried him, but the demon used every opportunity to show him that he loved his body, and that, when he needed it, he had a demonic force that he was willing to use. Besides, the angel had always taken care of him after they had sex, and now the snake was going to return the favour.

With a small demonic miracle, the water in the tub was already at the perfect temperature when they entered the bathroom. Slowly, Crowley lowered his husband into the tub, and Aziraphale groaned. Although he had not wanted this at first, all of his body's muscles were grateful for the steam and heat of the water. The demon turned to look for oils and soap for the bath, and also took down the shampoo he knew the angel loved. When all was ready, he also got into the bathtub, facing the blond, who had not yet opened his eyes.

"Angel, ..." he called to him, curious.

It took a few seconds, but Aziraphale finally replied. He let his eyes adjust to the light and wander around the room until he met the amber ones.

"Hi...," he whispered with a smile.

"Hi," Crowley replied, blushing, for some reason.

The angel slid slowly closer to the demon, tangling their legs together. The bathtub was small, but he liked it that way. The snake let the blonde settle in, Aziraphale resting his chest against Crowley's chest and hugging him. His head rested on a bony shoulder covered in freckles.

"How do you feel?" asked Crowley. He picked up a little jug that was there for occasions like this, and filled it from the bath.

Aziraphale sighed when he felt the water running down from his neck, and his husband's hands rubbing his back.

"Good."

"Pain?"

"No."

The demon poured some shampoo into his hands and began massaging the angel's scalp. Aziraphale shuddered involuntarily.

"Are you sure about that?" Crowley asked again. He stopped for a second when he noticed his husband's chill, but continued when the angel nodded slowly. "I didn't mean to hurt you...."

"You didn't." Aziraphale whispered. His voice hurt, scraped and thick. He hugged the demon harder, trying to prove something - he wasn't sure quite what, right now. "It was... I love you." He left a kiss on his thin neck and sighed again, feeling heavy. "I love you, my love. You're beautiful, and so, so good to me."

Crowley frowned. He slowly separated Aziraphale’s body from his and took his face into his hands. The blue eyes were red, tired, and watery.

"Hey, what's wrong, dove?" He stroked his cheeks. The angel's head weighed heavy in his hands, as if Aziraphale could not stand upright.

"Nothing... I-I love you."

Crowley watched him without understanding. It seemed as if Aziraphale was babbling inconsistencies.

"Why are you crying?"

"Because I love you."

"That doesn't make sense, angel."

Weakly, Aziraphale leaned in to Crowley and kissed him. The room was filled with love, light, warmth, and sweetness. The angel's love was so strong that it made the demon feel dizzy.

"I love you," whispered Aziraphale with a frown. "Marry me."

Crowley stopped. He leaned away a little from the angel's face and smiled, not believing what he had heard.

"What did you say?"

"Marry me."

"Angel," laughed the demon, as he had not laughed in a long time, "we're already married."

"I know," Aziraphale answered with a smile. "But I'd marry you again," he said sweetly, flicking a red lock behind his ear. "I would always choose you. You are all I ever wanted, and I would choose you again and again, for all eternity."

Crowley gazed at him, amber crashing into blue. Now his own eyes were weeping, and it was the angel who cupped a hand on his cheek this time, slowly caressing him.

"I'm sorry," Aziraphale apologized. "I'm sorry, I think I got carried away. I… honestly… it was too much for today. I'm tired, forgive me."

"Why are you apologizing?"

"For this," he answered, lowering his gaze. "I didn't want to end up like this tonight, so depressing. It was wonderful, darling. You fulfilled my wishes perfectly and it was... exquisite." He sighed, blushing slowly, "I didn't mean to ruin it with my soppy sentimentality."

The demon took his chin, forcing him to raise his head. There was sweetness in his eyes, and also a little annoyance at his husband's words.

"Me too, angel," answered the Serpent of Eden, staring at the Principality who had stolen his heart centuries ago. "I would always choose you. In the Bastille, now, in the Garden. Always."

Aziraphale tried, but he couldn't hold back his tears. He kissed his husband desperately. A wet, salty, promise of a kiss.

A kiss that closed a perfect night, one of many.

A kiss that was an end, an intermission, and a beginning.