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Crowley revved the engine. “You’re sure about this?”

“Yes, of course.” Aziraphale’s gaze was focused on the stretch of empty road before them. “I’ve always imagined it could be rather exciting, under the right circumstances.”

Exciting, really?” Crowley’s eyes narrowed. “Are you… trembling?”

“No!” Aziraphale made a soft sound, like a scoff of disdain. It was thoroughly unconvincing. “Of course not. Just. You know. Ready to get on with it.”

“With what, me driving at a ridiculous speed? Angel, are you—”

“Drive the damned car, Crowley, or I’ll … I’ll get out and walk away, and you’ll never have this chance again.”

Crowley wasn’t entirely sure he wanted the chance in the first place. Tormenting Aziraphale by driving too fast and watching him squirm and whinge about it had always been something of a pleasure, after all. But he’d asked, and he so rarely asked Crowley for anything. Crowley wasn’t about to forego the opportunity to give him precisely what he thought he wanted, for sheer entertainment value, if nothing else.

Still, it could all go pear-shaped quickly, so best to eliminate the obvious complications. He’d found a fairly vacant stretch of road in the countryside far from the city. At this hour, he doubted they’d come across more than a few other cars.

Crowley shifted the car into gear and turned back to the road before them. “Right. Hold onto your halo, Angel.”

The Bentley’s engine roared to life, assisted by more than a bit of demonic influence. Crowley shifted through every gear as quickly as he could, flooring the accelerator each time, pressing them both back into the sleek leather seats.

“Aw, yeah, that’s it.” Crowley could feel the Bentley all around him, an extension of him, the rush of endorphins flowing through him and the car both. The needles were buried in their respective gauges, the car’s engine pushed far past what should have been possible.

“Oh dear Lord.” Aziraphale squirmed beside him, breathing a little harder now. “This is… oh my… will it go any faster?”

“Will it?” Crowley smirked at him, then urged the car on. It resisted almost immediately, but he promised it all the things it liked, careful hand washes and only the best grade of oil, and it pushed itself faster with a resigned sort of whine.

It was glorious, this feeling of raw power beneath him, his to control and possess. Crowley howled with delight, his entire body singing with it. He threw his head back, laughing, then looked over at Aziraphale. “Yeah?”

Aziraphale’s eyes were wide, his hands grasping at the seat beneath him, somewhere between terrified and exhilarated. “Yeah.”

Crowley took a turn so sharply that two of the Bentley’s wheels left the ground. Aziraphale gasped, then clenched Crowley’s thigh so tightly it would likely leave a mark.

Crowley inhaled sharply as the wheels touched down again, his body reacting before he could stop it. Aziraphale rarely touched him; no one did, really, not anymore. He wasn’t expecting it and it was so much, the combination of speed and power and the pressure of a warm hand high on his thigh, a warm hand that didn’t seem to be going anywhere. He tried to ignore it, to keep his focus on the drive and the road, on finding the limit of what Aziraphale would accept, but the hand tightened a bit more, and that was just so… oh no.

“Fuck,” he said, weakly.

“Fuck,” Aziraphale repeated, with something akin to awe.

Crowley glanced to his left, shocked. Aziraphale’s gaze locked on his, but Crowley couldn’t read his expression, wasn’t sure what he was thinking. Aziraphale’s gaze drifted down to Crowley’s lap, to where he was now sporting a rather obvious erection.

Crowley clenched his jaw, already prepared to apologize for offending the angel’s delicate sensibilities, but then Aziraphale’s hand shifted ever so slightly higher.

Crowley didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t even let himself think.

“The thing is,” Aziraphale said, fingers inching closer to Crowley’s very interested cock with every passing moment, “it’s really exciting. I don’t think I ever told you that I rather liked the idea of going fast.” He hesitated a moment, then pressed his fingertips into the crease of Crowley’s thigh. “I suppose I gave you a different impression entirely, but there was so much at stake, then.”

The tension in Crowley’s body was nearly unbearable now; he had no idea where this was going or why.

“And I’ve always loved watching you drive,” Aziraphale continued, his voice lower now; it had a strange quality to it that Crowley had never heard. “The way you control this power. It could be so destructive, but you… Well, it’s almost erotic.” He paused then, as if he’d suddenly realized what he was doing, the degree to which he’d crossed the line that had always been between them. He began to draw his hand away. “I’m so sorry, I—”

Crowley growled in protest and pressed Aziraphale’s hand back down again. Aziraphale sucked in a breath, and for a moment, Crowley thought he’d just made a terrible mistake. He gripped the wheel with his free hand and kept his focus on the road ahead. He had no idea where they were, no sense of how far they’d traveled or which direction they were headed.

Aziraphale’s breathing was audible now, a touch ragged in the charged air between them. Crowley could smell him, the scent of desire and nervous sweat, and a tinge of fear. It was intoxicating.

The road curved sharply ahead, first to the left and then to the right. Crowley kept the Bentley’s wheels on the ground this time but just barely. The movement of the car shifted Aziraphale’s fingers to the right enough that the tips brushed against the now-sizable bulge in Crowley’s trousers.

They both froze in place, neither one breathing for several long seconds. Crowley turned onto a darkened country lane and hit the accelerator again, building up speed past fields and the occasional farmhouse, and tried to calm the pounding of his heart.

Aziraphale took a single, shuddering breath, then drew fingertips up the length of Crowley’s cock. His fingers mapped out the shape of it, curled over the head, then back down again, as if he was exploring something new and curious. Crowley tried to swallow down the moan escaping his lips, and ended up making a sort of strangled sound instead.

Aziraphale’s fingers abruptly left him, but before Crowley could react there was a gush of cool air, and warm fingers wrapped around his bare cock.

“Don’t say anything,” Aziraphale hissed, fingers sliding up the shaft now, thumb pressing into the slit. “Just… well, say no, if you’d prefer not to, but—”

“Don’t ssstop, Angel.” Crowley’s hands gripped the wheel so tightly the Bentley whined. Satan’s tits, he wouldn’t dream of saying no, not when he’d fantasized about exactly this, more times than he could even count. He had no idea what might have possessed the angel to do something like this after all this time, but he was hardly going to question it. Especially not with Aziraphale’s soft, warm hand pumping his shaft with far more expertise than Crowley would have expected, had he been foolish enough ever to expect it.

“Faster?” Aziraphale’s voice was breathy, and Crowley wanted to feel it hot and damp against his ear. Aziraphale seemed to prefer staying on his own side of the car though, eyes darting between the road ahead and the hand in Crowley’s lap.

“Faster, right.” Crowley willed the Bentley to squeeze out a few more rpms, just in case that was what Aziraphale had meant. The hand on his cock sped up, slicker than it had been before. The engine groaned, and so did Crowley.

“It does something to me, you know. The speed. It feels so delicious, so” —Aziraphale’s hand twisted on the upstroke and Crowley’s eyes rolled back— “indecent, I suppose. It makes me want to… Oh, my darling, look at you.”

Crowley slid down in his seat: the Bentley had finally taken pity on him and begun driving itself. He kept his eyes tightly closed — if this was a dream, he didn’t want it to end just yet.

“Oh, I want… Would you mind terribly if I…?” There was a click of a seat belt releasing, a shift of fabric against leather, and then the head of Crowley’s cock was enveloped in wet warmth.

He opened his eyes at that — he must be dreaming, because it wasn’t possible that Aziraphale had actually leaned over the seat to give him a fucking blow job while he was driving. Or not-driving, as it were, moving at a rapid speed in a car, at any rate, and oh, heaven how was he doing that with his tongue?

“Angel, bless it, what are you… unnngh…” He buried his fingers in those white-blond curls and groaned.

“Sorry.” Aziraphale sat back, cheeks red and mouth wet, and Crowley loved him so much he could barely think. “I thought you’d like it.”

“I do, I promise, don’t stop, please, there’s a good— Christ, how did you learn to do that?”

Aziraphale pinched Crowley’s thigh, hard; it was most likely for the blasphemy, which, all right, Crowley could refrain for a while.

The car seemed to have noticed their preoccupation and began to slow down. Crowley jammed his foot onto the accelerator and gave the gauges a glare. The car leapt forward, winding down the country lane at an entirely unreasonable speed once more.

Aziraphale whined around his mouthful as his body was pushed back into the seat. Crowley’s fingers twined in his hair, still not able to believe this was real. It couldn’t be real; no matter how much he’d thought about it, no matter how many times he’d looked at Aziraphale over the years and felt warmth bubble in his chest and heat swirl in other, darker places, and wondered. And now…

“Look at you, Angel, taking me ssso well.” Crowley was close now, and rapidly losing control of his brain-to-mouth filter. “Should’ve known this would get you going, a bit of danger, sssome speed. Nnnngh, yeah, sssuck me, like that, like—”

He clenched his fingers tightly in Aziraphale’s hair as his hips bucked up, as much warning as he was going to be able to give. Aziraphale sat back and wiped one hand over the back of his mouth while the other worked Crowley’s cock in a blur, then reached out to the windscreen. He brushed his fingertips against it.

“Faster now, come on.”

The Bentley responded. The outside world was a blur of dark shadows, punctuated by the occasional streetlamp or light from a farmhouse.

Crowley melted into the seat, his entire existence suddenly narrowed down to Aziraphale’s hand on him, the building sensation in his bollocks, the way the car rattled around him like it was about to come apart as well.

“Angel, that’s, there—” The car summited a small bluff and sailed into the air, all four wheels off the asphalt, wind whipping around them, and Crowley came, mouth open and head thrown back. Aziraphale stroked him through it, whispering words that sounded like yes, beautiful, love.

The car landed far more gently than ordinary physics would have suggested. It skidded to a stop and shuddered slightly, whether from exhaustion or shock, it was unclear.

Crowley closed his eyes and waited until his brain had settled back into something resembling normal before opening them again. “Angel, what the heaven was that all about?”

Aziraphale’s smile faltered a bit. “Didn’t you like it?”

Crowley gestured down to the mess he’d made of his clothes. “I should think it obvious that I did. And I’m happy to do that whenever you like. I’m just… surprised, is all.”

“Goodness.” Aziraphale sat back, his cheeks pinking up charmingly. “It’s always done something to me, this car, and you driving so recklessly. After everything that’s happened, I… well, it seemed silly to continue denying myself things I wanted.”

Crowley chuckled: who would’ve guessed Aziraphale had a speed kink? There was something else in his expression, though, something more raw and vulnerable than Crowley was used to seeing.

“Things you wanted being…?” Crowley gestured between them, firmly clamping down on the flicker of hope in his chest.

Aziraphale reached out, paused to banish the mess from his hand first, then caressed Crowley’s cheek. “My dear boy, you must know how fond I am of you, after all this time.”

Crowley felt something like a long, full-body exhale, one that sent tingles through him. It was a moment before he recognized the feeling: it was relief and joy, all rolled up together. He turned his face into Aziraphale’s hand and kissed the palm, breathing in the scent of himself that hadn’t been completely banished, marking the angel as his.

He looked up at Aziraphale. “I suppose I must do.”

Aziraphale held his gaze for a full second, then leaned forward and kissed him. It was oddly tentative, considering what Aziraphale’s mouth had been doing just a few minutes before. Crowley sighed into it, waited a moment before deepening it.

They parted a minute later, both of them breathing a little harder than they were before.

Crowley’s gaze dropped down to Aziraphale’s lap, where there was definite interest in continuing in this particular direction. “Are you going to let me return the favor now?”

Aziraphale bit his plush lower lip. “Well, I suppose that’s fair. Can you do it and drive us home at the same time?”

Crowley reached out to stroke the leather trim, and the Bentley shivered in response. He grinned. “Yes, I think I just might.”