It was storming. Again. Still? Crowley honestly wasn’t sure, nor did he particularly care. He didn’t mind the foul weather itself, of course, but the mood it put his birds in was… well… less than desirable. When the barometric pressure changed and the air became charged with electricity, his songbirds all retreated to the highest roosts of the cafe. Tucked into their wings, they became quiet, their instincts telling them to bunker down and hide from the storm. All except for Eve.
The cardinal had seen their fair share of storms, both literal and metaphorical, and was as unbothered by this one as by all the others. Crowley’s pretty red companion was sitting on the back of a chair, watching as Crowley gazed out the front window of the cafe. The rain pattered against the inky black glass, causing the city lights outside to dance and glare. The last customer had long since paid their bill and left, leaving the cafe empty and so, so quiet. Too quiet. Far too fucking quiet.
Crowley snapped his fingers without thinking and punk rock blared loudly from the speakers above him. There was a sudden explosion of feathers and twittering as dozens of finches, canaries, and other songbirds exploded from the rafters in a panic.
“Shit, sorry…. Sorry!” Crowley muttered, snapping again hastily. The music died instantly, leaving only the upset tweeting of a very perturbed flock of birds. Despite himself, Crowley threw a self-satisfied smirk at Eve who just gazed back at him evenly and fluffed themselves up.
“What?” the angel asked, feigning innocence. No response. He sighed, flipping the sign on the door to Closed and drawing the blinds. “Fine.”
Leaving Eve to tend to the flock, Crowley ascended the stairs to the flat above his cafe two at a time. He ears were ringing with the overwhelming quiet of the evening and it made him itch. Maybe he could convince his swan to play for him, or they could watch a film together. Something to combat the boredom and the quiet.
His swan. He smiled as he turned the corner to the bedroom and saw Zira asleep on the bed, curled around himself. His small wings, so often wrapped protectively around his face, were lying slackened across the pillow and his mouth hung open ever so slightly. His breathing was slow and even and Crowley paused for a moment to watch the rise and fall of his chest. His beautiful swan.
All concerns of filling the silence fell away as the angel knelt on the edge of the bed and crawled across it to his demon’s side. Zira stirred slightly, his eyes cracking open the slightest amount as Crowley laid down in front of him, propped up on his elbow to gaze down at him. A slow sweet smile tilted the curve of the demon’s mouth, making Crowley’s heart skip a beat it didn’t really need anyways.
“Hey,” Crowley said, his voice full of adoration. He reached out with his other hand and touch a thumb to the soft skin just below Zira’s ear. “Have a good nap, did you?” he asked, but there was no accusation in the question.
His swan nodded lazily and his head-wings lifted from the pillow as he stretched them. Crowley’s hand strayed along the curve of Zira’s jaw, his thumb drawing small circles over his earlobe. Their eyes met and Crowley noticed a faint rosy hue creep up Zira’s neck and into his cheeks.
“What is it, dove?” Zira’s blush deepened as he drew his lower lip between his own teeth. Crowley’s gaze focused those lips for a moment before he realized Zira had signed something and he had almost entirely missed it. “I-I’m sorry?” he asked, shaking himself as he tilted his head back to raise an eyebrow at the demon.
I asked , Zira signed, his hands barely moving in the tight space between their chests. May I touch you?
“Of… of course,” Crowley responded, bewildered that Zira would even ask such a ridiculous question. They had become so familiar with each other in the months since the Nonpocalypse, had touched every square centimeter of each other’s corporations, had known each other in every definition of the word. Why in heaven did Zira feel he needed to ask now?
Zira reached for him, pulling himself closer as his hands fisted into Crowley’s Gun ‘N’ Roses t-shirt. The demon nudged a knee in between Crowley’s legs, trying to bring them even closer together, and Crowley gasped as Zira’s thigh pressed into him.
“You know you don’t have to, uh, ask, sweetheart,” Crowley mumbled as Zira’s hands deftly unbuttoned the fly of his jeans. He ducked his head to kiss his swan, but the demon tilted his head out of reach, giving Crowley a look that clearly said, You know full well that I do .
Crowley made a grunt of gentle annoyance and pulled Zira back towards him, the hand on his jaw threading around the back of his neck, under his wing. Zira’s mouth snapped closed and he made the tiniest humming sound just before Crowley kissed him. When they parted, Zira lifted his hands from the edges of Crowley’s trousers to sign quickly, Everything closed downstairs?
“Not for you,” Crowley answered with a cheeky lift of one eyebrow. He earned a soft jab in the ribs for his poorly crude joke. “Hey! Yeah, the cafe’s closed,” he stated and then, more somberly, “It was too quiet down there. The storm has the birds all bunkered down for the night. I’d rather be up here with--”
The quietest bird of them all? Zira asked, brow furrowed just a little. There was a split second where Zira’s gaze flitted away from Crowley, but the angel caught it again and brought him back.
“You speak volumes, swan, it’s just not my ears that hear it” Crowley explained, tone full of warmth. Zira’s eyes widened at that and the shimmer of tears appeared along the edges, threatening to spill over. In order to hide it, the demon ducked his head into Crowley’s neck, his lips finding his pulse and sucking. Crowley tilted his head back to allow his demon more space, his mouth falling open with a soft sigh.
Zira’s hands were back on his hips, tugging downward on his jeans. Crowley reached for the buttons of Zira’s flannel pajama shirt and deftly undid them ony by one. He ran his hands over the demon’s sides, making Zira squirm against him. Zira’s knee was back between his thighs, pushing Crowley’s jeans down to his ankles and off. As Zira twitched under his touch, the swan’s thigh ground into Crowley’s hardening cock, making him keen slightly.
“Swan,” Crowley whined, rolling his hips forward to seek out more friction. Zira’s lips moved downward, latching onto his collarbone with teeth and lips, sucking the skin there furiously into his mouth, marking it. His demon hummed a bit against his skin, making the hair on the back of Crowley’s neck stand on end. “Fuck…,” he groaned, prompting Zira to hum again.
Crowley managed to slide his thumbs into the waistband of Zira’s pajama bottoms and pull them down over his backside before the demon’s mouth found a new target at the spot whereCrowley’s neck met his shoulder. Zira’s teeth sank into the tender flesh there with surprising force and Crowley cried out. Looking abashed, Zira pulled away from Crowley quickly. With his eyes full of apology, he started to cover his face with his wings and pull his hands away from Crowley’s hips.
“Don’t you dare,” Crowley gasped, reaching up to gently, but firmly, bat Zira’s swan wings away. His hands then returned to their previous position on Zira’s arse and he rolled his swan on top of him.. The demon let out a small oof as he landed between Crowley’s thighs and looked down at him in shock, his head-wings hanging comically by his shoulders, seemingly forgotten for a moment.
“Sorry.” Crowley grinned up at him, reassuring. “Just… it was good. It felt good, I mean. And don’t hide your face, sweetheart,” he said, stroking the back of one hand down Zira’s cheek. “Please. Not from me.” Zira’s brow creased in confusion.
The sound you made , he signed, more articulate now that he was kneeling fairly upright between the angel’s thighs. The sound was pleasure, not pain? Crowley chuckled.
“Well, both, but…” He wrapped a hand around Zira’s neck and pulled him down to him, directing his mouth to a similar spot on his neck. “Go on… Please….” And then he felt Zira’s teeth on him again and his hips bucked upwards into Zira.
“Swan!” He felt the twist of Zira’s mouth against his skin, knew that it meant the demon was smiling despite himself. Zira’s hands were back on Crowley, caressing his cock through the fabric of his briefs for a moment, before stealing underneath. The angel groaned as he felt himself being taken into Zira’s nimble hand. Crowley snapped his fingers and what remained of their clothing fell away from them and he was rewarded with Zira’s teeth biting harder into a new spot along his shoulder, over his golden tattoo.
His swan stroked along the length of his cock, slowly, lazily, making Crowley’s back arch off the bed. Crowley bit back a gasp as he felt Zira’s fingertip, slick with miracled lube, slide over his opening and inside of him.
“Hhhnggg,” he grumbled, trying to swallow his sounds of need. His eyes fluttered closed, but the feeling of Zira’s finger left him as suddenly as it had appeared. His eyes popped open and he looked up to find Zira frowning down at him.
“Wha-... what’s wrong?” Crowley asked, too distracted now for pet names and reeling from the loss of pressure where he most needed it. Zira brought his hand up, fingers shining, and signed one-handed as best he could, his other hand still steady on Crowley’s cock.
I won’t hide my face , his swan explained, face serious. His signs became firmer as he continued, You won’t hide your voice.
Crowley stared up at him in awe for a moment, before swallowing the lump in his throat and nodding. “A-alright, swan. I won’t.” Seeming satisfied with that answer, Zira bent down to once more latch his mouth onto Crowley’s throat. Crowley felt Zira’s fingertips against him once again and as one finger slid inside him, her let his head fall back and a feral groan rip from his chest.
It wasn’t anything new, as such. They had, at this point, tried quite a few of the fascinating concepts the humans had come up with for intimacy in the bedroom. However, as Zira slowly stretched him with a single finger, and then a second, Crowley found himself making noises he never had before, having been given what felt like a demand not to stifle his vocalizations. He felt gasps and moans being torn from him as his swan worked. When Zira’s finger curved just right to graze across Crowley’s prostate, the noise that erupted from him was one he didn’t think his human corporation could even make.
“Nggghhhhaaahhk! Zira!” he shouted. He glanced up to see Zira’s face had gone quite pink and shone with sweat. The demon’s fingers once again vanished from inside of him, as well as the hand around his cock, and Crowley whined embarrassingly loudly. He bit his lip, but Zira was grinning at him. Crowley felt heat in his cheek, having a suspicion of where Zira’s thoughts were.
“Naughty swan,” he chided, his voice shaking. With the loss of stimulus, he felt his heart rate begin to slow a bit. “Filthy, wicked thing.” Zira scrunched his nose at him, but his grin didn’t falter.
After another moment of Zira smiling down at him, Crowley began to wonder what his demon was playing at. He frowned. “Sweetheart…,” he complained, his voice steadier now, but no less full of need. “Fuck me.” His tone was demanding, and it didn’t sit right on his tongue, so he added, as an afterthought, “Please?”
That got him. Zira’s face crumpled and he wiggled his knees down the bed slightly to bring his hips in line with Crowley’s. One of his arms went around Crowley’s hips to angle him upwards and he thrust inside, his cock already slick and hard as it slid home. Crowley’s fingers dug into the flesh of Zira’s arse and he moaned.
“Yes, God, swan… I….” Crowley lifted his hips up even further to meet Zira’s firm thrusts. Zira’s other hand was back on the angel’s cock, smooth with lube and pumping in time to the rhythm of his hips. Zira’s teeth were on his earlobe now, tugging firmly to the point of pain. It was exquisite. He gasped through gritted teeth, and Zira repeated the action. “Ah!” Crowley exclaimed, wincing, but he lifted one hand to the back of Zira’s head, between his wings, to hold him there in case the demon worried he’d gone too far.
Within moments, Crowley felt his balls tightening against him, felt his heart beat so quickly it might burst from his chest, felt himself get close to the precipice of his climax. He let out a long, keening groan, his toes curling, and then…. He felt the demon go still inside him, felt his hand let go of his cock abruptly, felt his mouth leave his throat. And Crowley whined .
Zira was looking at him, studying his face closely, his expression difficult to read.
“Whaaat?” Crowley moaned, feeling like he must sound like a bratty child deprived of sweets. Zira chuckled deep in his belly and Crowley glared. “It’s not funny, swan!” he exclaimed, exasperated.
It is funny , Zira signed. Crowley pouted, bucking his hips up into the demon to try and wipe the smirk off his stupid face. It didn’t work. I needed a breath , Zira explained, unconvincingly. After a time that felt to Crowley like eternity, the demon began fucking him again, in earnest. And once again, as Crowley felt himself nearing his completion, again the demon paused.
“Fuck!” he shouted, frustrated beyond belief. “What the fu--,” he cut himself off when he looked up to see Zira’s shining face, eyes sparkling with delight. Whatever this was, the bastard was enjoying it. “I… Swan… Please!” And just as his heartbeat began to slow, Zira was at it again. It happened twice more, or perhaps Crowley lost count; his brain didn’t seem to be functioning very well.
This time, Crowley thought he would get there, finally. It felt painful how badly he wanted to fall over that ledge into utter bliss, wanted to wrap himself completely around his swan and feel his soul shift inside his corporation. He was so close he could taste it. His breath was ripped from him in a scream of rapture, which turned into a scream of fury when, once again, Zira deprived him of that glorious finish.
“AAAAAAHHFFFUUUCKSWAN!” He didn’t feel bad for shouting in Zira’s ear, even as the demon winced away from him. Well, maybe he felt just a tiny bit bad. “ZIRA WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK! I--” Zira bent down and nipped playfully at his collarbone, a stark contrast to the animalistic biting he was sure had left an assortment of colorful bruises. He trembled, his thighs quaking as he tried to squeeze them around his demon’s hips. He tried to press his heels into Zira’s lower back, but they slid down, his legs feeling weak. They were both dripping with sweat from the exertion of it all and the tension in Crowley’s belly was painful. “FUCK ME!” he shouted.
And Zira obliged. Crowley’s balls felt excruciatingly tight and sensitive. He winced as his swan pounded into him. He felt wetness on his face that had nothing to do with sweat; tears were falling from his eyes, rolling down into his hair and onto the pillow. He had no more strength to arch his hips up to be with Zira’s movements, but he didn’t seem to notice. The demon lifted Crowley’s knees up to his shoulders and kept up a punishing pace. One of Zira’s hands was back on the angel’s cock and it was too much. Crowley screamed with every thrust of his swan’s hips, until his throat was raw and his head ached.
And finally, after what seemed like a torturous age, Zira finished him. He whimpered as the wave of pleasure finally crashed over him, pierced with agonizingly sweet pain and terrible rage, and the whimper turned into a savage howl. He was vaguely aware of Zira following him quickly over the edge, trembling and wheezing as he came inside the angel.
When Crowley was satisfied Zira had finished, he pushed him to the side not-so-gently. The demon rolled off him with a squeak that might have been amusing in a different context. Now, however, Crowley wanted some fucking answers. After a couple of failed attempts to get his shaking knees to cooperate, he managed to push himself into a seated position against the headboard, grimacing.
“W-what the… ENTIRE FUCK… was THAT, swan?!” he shouted, glaring down at Zira. The demon looked up, shock and horror painted across his face. He started to pull his swan wings around his face, so long forgotten in his passion. “NUH-UH,” commanded Crowley, and Zira’s wings trembled to a halt. The demon’s eyes filled with tears and he scrambled to sign, the words blurring together in his upset.
You said pleasure, not pain, I thought, I thought, your voice was so lovely , Zira’s hands shook as he tried to explain by the only means he had. I didn’t know I could make you make those sounds, you said pleasure, you said, and I lost myself, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m--
Crowley caught his swan’s hands in his own, quieting his rambling, his anger ebbing as quickly as it had flared. Tears were spilling down Zira’s cheeks, mixing with the sweat across his face. His hands were clammy in Crowley’s and the angel could feel every fiber of Zira’s corporation tremble with shame.
“Hey…,” he said, forcing his voice to be calmed, despite the tremor of pain and rage that still fought to escape. “Hey, shhh, it’s alright. It’s alright, pet, I’ve got you. Don’t cry.” He felt his own eyes stinging and remembered too clearly the tears he had shed only moments ago as he had crested the wave of his orgasm. “It was just too much, swan. It felt good, but… it was too much. I’m sorry I shouted. Please don’t cry.” He pulled Zira to him, knowing his arms weren’t working well enough yet that he could have done so had the demon not come willingly.
I’m sorry , Zira was signing still over and over, and Crowley couldn’t help but be reminded of a room in a little inn in Jerusalem all those millenia ago. He shook his head and kissed Zira’s forehead.
“It’s already forgiven, my swan…,” he assured Zira, entwining himself around him and feeling himself start to relax when Zira’s wings fold around both of their heads.
“But, uh, maybe we’d best decide on a safeword, next time, eh?”