Actions

Work Header

Silence is Golden

Work Text:

"Oh...don't you look beautiful." Aziraphale's voice is a low whisper of awe as he circles the throne. Plump fingers trace over intricate knots with the softness of angel's wings, and he smiles, beatific. "I think we're both going to enjoy this, aren't we, darling?"

There is no verbal reply, but golden eyes glitter as Crowley nods his head. Ropes of pure white silk bind his wrists behind the throne and his ankles have been similarly lashed to its gilded legs, spreading him open, body nude and willingly and so completely exposed to Aziraphale's hungry gaze. 

There is no verbal response, because a gag is fitted securely in Crowley's mouth. Nothing fancy, just a smallish silicone ball stoppering his speech, attached to leather straps that encircle his head. It looks rather fetching on him, Aziraphale thinks.

Crowley is noisy in bed. Not loud, exactly - well, no, he is loud as well - but he talks, demands, pleads a constant litany of ecstasy, and it's lovely, of course it is - but their now teenage daughter is likely to hear every word if either of them get too worked up, and they find their intimacy has suffered somewhat as a result. They're both aware Lucina is far from an innocent child, but they do like to draw out their lovemaking, drive each other completely mad with desire, and there's always the fear of being overheard or discovered hanging over them…

But now, it seems they have found a solution of sorts.

Lucina is somewhere in the flat, had been doing her homework when last they saw her; her parents are in Crowley's office, making the most of the thicker walls. When they'd discussed using the gag a few weeks prior, they figured why not try out a few other things while they were at it. And that was what led to the present moment, with Crowley tied up and fidgeting and giving Aziraphale his best simpering gaze, begging to be fucked into submission.

"Where to start…?" Aziraphale muses quietly. He is still dressed, to contrast Crowley's nakedness, though his shirtsleeves are rolled up to the elbows and a few buttons at his throat are undone. Reaching out, he runs his fingers over Crowley's bound arms, smiling at the shiver he induces. "You know, I rather feel as though I should kiss you, but your pretty mouth...I suppose I shall direct my kisses elsewhere - everywhere, even."

Crowley nods, eyes practically screaming fuck yes, dominate me, angel! A muffled whimper slips past the gag in his desperation.

Aziraphale draws his hands away. 

"Control yourself, darling," he whispers, and Crowley obeys without pause, body relaxing into the throne. "Good boy. So good for me…" Aziraphale strokes Crowley's cheek, smiling again. He leans down, easing a knee between Crowley's spread thighs, anchoring himself as he begins to trail kisses over his demon's jaw.

"Mmm…" hums Crowley, eyes closing, head nudging gently into the angel's lips. As Aziraphale drifts lower, caressing his neck and collarbone, he moans softly. Aziraphale doesn't reprimand him, just continues his way down; sternum, nipples, abdominals, navel, and Crowley shivers and arches into every touch of fingers, every scrape of teeth and flicker of tongue. He drinks it in, greedy, as much a glutton for sensation as Aziraphale is for dishing it out. As with every facet of their existence, they fit perfectly.

By the time Aziraphale's lips reach Crowley's trembling thighs, the demon's eyes are rolling, drool leaking around the gag to dampen his chin. Aziraphale looks up, pauses. "Check in for me, darling."

One rap of knuckles against the back of the throne means he's fine. Two means Crowley needs to pause, remove the gag and speak. Three, and they need to stop completely.

Crowley knocks just the once, mouth twitching in an attempt at a smile. Aziraphale smiles back, satisfied, and continues where he left off, warm lips brushing the cool expanse of his husband's inner thigh. A sigh escapes Crowley, eyes slipping closed as his hips twitch, clearly needing Aziraphale to focus on the slender shaft throbbing between his legs.

Aziraphale ignores it, and moves to the other thigh.

"Mmph - mm-mmm!" Crowley's eyes snap back open and he writhes, desperate.

"You're being so good," mutters Aziraphale reverently against Crowley's skin. "So patient, my love...I will reward you soon, I promise."

Please, angel, please! Crowley's eyes seem to say. Aziraphale could lose himself in that wild, golden gaze, adores how expressive his husband is just through the way he looks at the things he loves. 

With a wry smile, he licks the crease of Crowley's thigh and delights in the half-choked noise he makes. Again, to the other crease, and now Crowley is breathing heavily through his nose, jaw clenching down hard on the gag, his lips and chin soaked with leaking saliva. Aziraphale had no idea how erotic the sight of Crowley drooling uncontrollably could be, until it was right in front of him, picturesque, sublime. 

He goes to lower his head, ready to finally give Crowley what he desperately wants, but looks up at the last second. "Check in for me again, love."

Crowley hesitates a moment, but knocks once. And with that Aziraphale sinks down, mouth wrapping around Crowley's cock in one smooth movement. And oh, he screams, and so prettily too, utterly lost to sensation long before they had begun and already on the edge. Aziraphale swallows around him, dipping a hand lower to cup and caress the twitching sack beneath. At that, Crowley moans low and throaty, head thrashing. 

Aziraphale lifts his head, stills his hands. "You're getting noisy again, my sweet. I know you can do better than that."

Crowley's chest is heaving, his cheeks flushed and eyes blown wide with lust - but the two knocks he raps against the back of the throne have Aziraphale pulling back immediately and working to unfasten the gag. He carefully eases the ball out of Crowley's mouth, and the demon exhales a heavy breath through his mouth once freed. 

"Fucking drooling everywhere, angel. Don't think it's really my thing." Everywhere is an understatement; his neck and chest are wet through. 

Aziraphale thinks Crowley looks marvellously and beautifully debauched, but his comfort will always take precedence over aesthetics. He sets the gag aside on the desk, and picks up a nearby cloth. "Do you need us to stop?" he asks gently as he wipes Crowley clean.

Crowley shakes his head. "No, no. I'm good, just...keep my mouth free, yeah?"

"Of course, darling." Aziraphale dabs Crowley's chin with the cloth. "This does mean you need to work harder to be quiet. Do you think you can manage that?"

"I'll try." A spark of challenging thrill glitters in Crowley's serpentine eyes. Aziraphale can't help but kiss him, drawn to the swollen expanse of the demon's lips now freed from their restraints; Crowley moans softly into the gesture, squirming slightly. 

"Shall we continue, dear heart?"

"Ready when you are, angel."

Aziraphale settles back down on his knees, though not before tossing the used cloth to the table and pocketing a bottle of lube from the desk. "Use your safewords or your knocks, okay? I'll listen to either." He plants a teasing kiss to the very tip of Crowley's blushing cock, revelling in his sharp intake of breath. "Ready?"

Crowley closes his eyes, smiles, and nods.

 As Aziraphale takes him into his mouth again, he watches, watches that peaceful expression quickly give way to unrivalled bliss, and then to sheer ecstasy when he slips two lubed fingers between Crowley's cheeks. He fucks into him slowly, dragging the digits over Crowley's prostate at the same time he hollows his cheeks to suck harshly at the head - 

And Crowley comes undone with a violent shudder, spending himself down his angel's throat, and with no more than a few quiet, breathless gasps. By the time Aziraphale pulls back, wiping his mouth, Crowley is boneless in the throne, slumped down and panting. 

"Mmm. You did so well." Aziraphale licks his lips once more for effect, noting Crowley's gazed eyes flicking to watch the motion. "Such a good boy…what would you like, dearest? Anything you want, it is yours."

It takes Crowley a few moments to answer, and when he does, his voice is faint, yet still brimming with desire.

"I want to touch you."

Aziraphale smiles, feels his heart bursting with love. "Of course, my sweet."  

Getting to his feet, he moves around the throne, swiftly undoing the silk ropes binding Crowley's wrists. They were already loose enough that Crowley could easily have slipped out of them if he wanted to - but he never wanted to, and that was the fun of the game; let himself be trussed up and played with, an escape route easily within his reach, but he put his trust in Aziraphale to always make sure he'd never resort to it himself. 

Aziraphale comes back round to the front of the throne, kneels to free Crowley's lovely ankles from their restraints. He can't resist giving each a little kiss as he does, and the whole time Crowley watches him, simmering hunger clear in his amber gaze. Then Aziraphale stands again, and steps close. Crowley reaches out, fingers running over buttons and fastenings as he begins to undress his angel. No miracles here; another part of the games they play, and who doesn't enjoy unwrapping a present?

Finally, Aziraphale is as exposed as Crowley, and it's only now that Aziraphale feels the need to be satisfied, too. He's always so focused on Crowley's pleasure, rarely thinking of his own. Seeing his demon enjoying himself would be more than enough for him - but he won't ever say no to a little more. So he allows Crowley to draw him into his lap, thick thighs bracketing slender hips as their lips meet, and Crowley reaches a lubricated hand between them to -

"O-Oh…" Aziraphale lets out a gentle gasp against Crowley's mouth, and Crowley chuckles, nudging his angel's head to the side so he can kiss and suck lightly at his neck. "Oh, my dear, but you do spoil me…"

"You tie me down and soft dom me into a puddle of goo, and you say I spoil you?" Crowley mutters into Aziraphale's collarbone. 

At that, a breathy laugh escapes Aziraphale, and he clings tighter to Crowley, hips beginning to rock in the demon's Heavenly lap. He buries his face in Crowley's hair, muffling his whimpers of pleasure in the soft shock of auburn. "It's - ahh - not a competition, Crowley -"

"'M just teasing you, angel," Crowley grins. 

"You are such a wily serpent."

Crowley speeds up his strokes, squeezing harder; Aziraphale begins to pant heavily. "The wiliest."

"Yes…and all mine."

"All yours. Always and forever."

"Say it again," Aziraphale pleads.

"I'm all yours, angel. All -" Crowley punctuates with a gentle bite to Aziraphale's throat - "Yours…"

It's too much, too much, the pleasure coursing through him, still on a high from tying his demon up, and now those sweet words and the hand on his cock, oh, it's too much - Aziraphale digs his nails into Crowley's back and moans into his hair as he spills between their bellies and over Crowley's fingers. 

For several minutes, it's just their breathing, harsh and collectively noisy in the quiet of the room. Neither really want to move. Aziraphale's soft, plump form fits so nicely against Crowley, he can't help but nestle closer as they exchange slow, lazy kisses in their afterglow. But finally one speaks up. 

"Was that okay, love? Not too much for you, was it?"

Crowley fixes Aziraphale with The Look. The one that says don't ask stupid questions, angel. A moment later, though, he softens as he pecks his angel's cheeks, one after the other. "Perfect. Loved it. Gag was a nice touch, not sure about the drool, but won't say never again to it. Should we clean up?"

"Oh, yes, I suppose we should." 

It's only later, when they're relaxing in bed - and Lucina none the wiser about their, ahem, activities - that Aziraphale remembers what Crowley said. Puzzled, he puts his book down and shakes Crowley's shoulder to rouse him. "Crowley?"

"Wha…?" the demon slurs, half-asleep.

"Did you call me a soft dom?"

Crowley cracks open one eye, a smirk appearing on his face. "Yeah...think I did." He slowly props himself up on one elbow, staring at his angel. "Why? You like the sound of that?"

"Well, dearest, if I had, you know, in any way, dominated you...I rather think I should have given you some sort of aftercare. That's what is done in those circles, as I recall. Have I let you down terribly? I am dreadfully sorry."

"Angel." Crowley shifts closer, nuzzles his nose behind Aziraphale's ear. "We took a bath together, remember? And split that fucking gorgeous bottle of pinot noir with dinner. And now we're in bed, calm, and safe, and happy…"

Crowley turns Aziraphale's face towards him, capturing his lips in a soft kiss. "Just you. Being with you. Doing all the things we've always done. That's all the aftercare I need."