Aziraphale bowed his head and whispered with frustration, “I hate that even kissing you is so difficult!”
Crowley stopped what he was doing, and looked at Aziraphale.
They were in the hallway outside the bedroom of Crowley’s flat. Crowley was pressing Aziraphale against the wall with his hands and his knees. The demon had been passionately and happily occupied with kissing his angel, until now.
If Aziraphale was asked how they ended up in the hallway like this, he would probably be at a loss for words. Crowley remembered every step clearly, though. In the lounge, Crowley had been listening to modern music on his smartphone and Aziraphale had been reading. Aziraphale’s reading material must have been riveting stuff, though, because in no time the angel was squirming in his chair. Very politely and not a little anxiously, he had soon gone to Crowley and asked, “Excuse me, my dear, but I would be very partial to being taken to bed presently, if that appeals to you? Unless you’re busy, of course. I would hate to be a bother to you.”
One didn’t need to be equipped with the power of prophecy to predict that the demon would have his sweet angel pinned in the hallway within the span of thirty seconds.
He’d had him there for at least five minutes, by now.
“We’ve been over this a thousand times, angel,” Crowley said, touching his nose to Aziraphale’s soft cheek. “You don’t gotta do anything. I’m good with leading. You just go with the flow and let the naughty demon take care of things. Okay?” Tenderly, he kissed Aziraphale’s jawline. Crowley’s long fingers curled possessively over the angel’s. “Let me handle this for you.”
A shy smile rose spontaneously to Aziraphale’s parted lips. “I do so love it,” he whispered, “when you talk that way, Crowley.”
It did obscene things to Crowley’s ego whenever Aziraphale was receptive to Crowley’s sultry brand of intimacy—and the angel was always receptive. He chuckled lowly. “It’s not our usual over-dinner small talk, is it?” His thumbs caressed the angel’s relaxed wrists. He licked down Aziraphale’s jawline and sucked at the skin of his neck.
Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered half-closed. “No, quite not.”
Barely a muscle moved in the body beneath Crowley. Rather, with every passing second, Aziraphale seemed to let go more and more. If he became any more relaxed, he wouldn’t be far from simply collapsing onto the demon—which was fine with Crowley, but the hallway was hardly the best place for it. He rubbed his leg against his angel, just a little, just to get the proper message across. He sang a short, low-tone song of four words. “I want you, Aziraphale.”
A bone-deep shudder tore through Aziraphale’s body. “Oh,” he gasped. “Crowley. Do you really?”
Crowley grinned his best snake-grin. “Yesss.”
Aziraphale whimpered. “That’s… so wonderful…”
“Come to bed with me. I want to have some fun with you. I’ll make it good for you.” Crowley hummed to himself. “Or, I could take you here, against the wall, if you wanted. But that won’t be too comfortable for you, will it? And I need you to be very comfortable,” he made his tone dip low into levels of enticing darkness. “I can’t be wasting time worrying about the nasty wall at your back when what I’ll really want to be worrying about is where to put your hips so I can sink my cock deep inside of you.”
There was a hitch in Aziraphale’s breathing. For a long moment, Aziraphale was incredibly still and quiet. Then he burst into a happy, excited giggle. “Oh, my dear Crowley! What extraordinary things you say!”
Crowley tried very hard to pretend to be scandalised by the badly-timed laughter, but he couldn’t pull it off. The truth was, he was warmed by Aziraphale’s golden laugh. The demon put a pause to his seductive act and stilled his rutting knee completely. He flashed a small smile before the angel’s eyes. “Was that too much?”
Aziraphale shook his head repeatedly. “No, no, goodness, no!” he said quickly. “Not too much! It’s perfect! This is absolutely perfect! Just like you! This…” He smiled back, widely, gladly, yet with a generous pinch of desperation thrown in. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to tell you how perfect this feels to me. You are everything that I could ever want. You are exhilarating, Crowley, and I am in love with every moment you give me. How I wish I could show you. Without a doubt, it’s the silliest thing in the world that I’m not giving you a single proper touch in return.”
“You’re forgetting, angel,” Crowley said. His slightly-rough gardener’s hands tightened over Aziraphale’s smaller, smoother hands. “Nobody’s expecting you to do anything naughty. You just do the fluffy bits. The hugging stuff, and things like that. I can’t do those to save my life. It’s my job to do the naughty bits that you can’t do. That was the arrangement, right?”
Aziraphale sputtered. “Come now! I don’t think that was the Arrangement!”
Crowley laughed wholeheartedly. The old one had skipped his mind. Crowley remembered that Aziraphale had had trouble enough buying into the old Arrangement a thousand years ago. It was amusing to imagine how the old Aziraphale might have reacted to being proposed a setup like this one.
Then again, this wasn’t the sort of setup that the old Crowley would ever have thought of, either.
Aziraphale swallowed to clear his throat. The voice that came out of him was thick with fondness. “I’ve never heard a kiss on the lips described as naughty, but I can’t even do that.”
“Eh, I’m not so sure about that. You’re getting pretty good at kissing me back.”
Hopeful sparkles crackled behind Aziraphale’s bright eyes. “Really?”
“Uh,” Crowley tilted his head a bit guiltily. “It’s different from how I do it, though. I mean, it’s like one of those kisses in the old films. It’s not erotic. Chaste is the word for it, I think. But, imagine chaste times a hundred. Super chaste.”
“Oh.” The hopeful sparkles started to fade sadly.
“Oi, don’t be like that! I didn’t say it was bad.”
“It sounds rather shallow.”
“No, it isn’t! It’s nice. It’s, uh, really nice.” Crowley winced internally. He was terrible at describing anything to do with the lighter sides of romance. “It’s got a lot of that love thingy in it.”
“Does it?” Aziraphale smiled. “I suppose I’m glad to hear that.”
But Crowley wasn’t done. “Yeah. It’s good. In fact,” Crowley said, darkening his voice again, “the nice way you kiss is exactly how I like it. Wouldn’t change a thing about it.” He licked his lips ostentatiously. “I’m fucking hot for it, sometimes.”
Aziraphale’s eyebrows rose sharply.
Crowley grinned. Playing this game with his angel was too much fun. “So, which one’s calling out to you tonight? The bed, or the wall?”
“Um…” A very serious expression of contemplation passed over Aziraphale’s face. “Bed, please?”
“Anything for you.” Crowley pulled Aziraphale in for one more sensual kiss, more of a teasing graze of lips than a true kiss. It was a promise to his angel of things to come.
Then Crowley released Aziraphale’s hands from where he had pinned them to the wall. Without touching Aziraphale, Crowley led him to the bedroom.
To tell the truth, Crowley would rather not have let go of Aziraphale at all. But Crowley liked to keep things a little unpredictable. That was part of the game.
Of his own accord, Aziraphale followed him. Crowley could feel Aziraphale’s mounting anticipation ooze off of him in droves.
Making a show of being chivalrous, Crowley suavely opened the bedroom door for the angel. “So, have you got any special requests?” he asked, professionally, like a restaurant waiter asking if anyone had any allergies. “Want me to fuck myself on you, like I did yesterday?”
Aziraphale gave him the most beautifully wry look. It was the same look that Crowley received whenever he did something particularly wily. Except, Crowley amended, there was far more heat in the look than there used to be. “I’m sure you’re asking me that question just to get a reaction out of me.”
That wasn’t entirely true, but the idea appealed to Crowley. “So, am I? Getting a reaction out of you, I mean?”
“Well…” The wry look from Aziraphale dimmed into a bashful glow. “Yes.”
“Awesome,” Crowley said. “But I’m serious. Is there something you’d like? ‘Cause I’ll make love to you however you like. You know I’m down for anything. Slow, fast, soft, hard. You name it.”
Aziraphale gazed at him with undisguised wonder. For a little while, the angel didn’t say anything. Then he said, “You are awfully kind about this, Crowley. Thank you very much.”
The light praise and gratitude sent tingles down the demon’s spine. “Bzzt!” Crowley said. He leaned back against the doorframe and crossed his arms. “Didn’t recognise that request. Please try again.”
But Aziraphale surprised him. He leaned forward and kissed Crowley affectionately on the cheek. “You are awfully kind,” the angel repeated sweetly. He strode past Crowley into the bedroom.
Crowley’s pulse thumped loudly in his chest. While nothing could faze Crowley in the matters of sexuality, he was dreadfully weak to Aziraphale’s clean affection. He reverently touched the blessed spot on his cheek, taking a moment to appreciate how blissfully warm he suddenly felt.
Meanwhile, Crowley could see that Aziraphale sat at the edge of the bed. The angel had begun to remove his clothes. It was a bold move for Aziraphale. It was an unusual one, too. Normally, the honours of stripping Aziraphale fell to Crowley.
Crowley wasn’t sure he had a good feeling about seeing Aziraphale do it.
To his credit, Aziraphale successfully pared himself down to his white shirt, but that was as far as he managed. His fingers refused to undo the buttons of his shirt. He seemed befuddled by an invisible barrier blocking him.
Inevitably, Crowley snaked his way over. “Hey, look, you got your bowtie off,” he said. “That’s a first.”
Aziraphale grimaced. “Well, I can do it as long as I tell myself I’m just getting undressed for sleep! But eventually I remember what I’m really doing, and it’s far too terrifying, and I freeze, and I know I’ll make a mistake, and it’s like I’m pushing against a wall in my own head, but I can’t—”
Crowley put a finger to his own lips. “Sh.”
The babbling ceased. Aziraphale grew quiet.
“It’s okay,” Crowley said. “I think I know what’s going on. Those angel hangups of yours are really acting up today. Aren’t they?”
Aziraphale’s silence and his averted eyes were all the answer that Crowley needed.
It was unfortunate, but this happened sometimes. There were some days when the limitations imposed on them by their natures and their upbringings hit them especially hard, reminding them sharply how they were prisoners inside their own celestial heads. For Crowley, it meant that he would occasionally drive his car to nowhere at ninety miles per hour, or else go mad in the kitchen, cooking a hundred things up for Aziraphale because it was one of the only ways that his demon’s body and demon’s mind allowed him to demonstrate the love kept wrapped in his heart without involving lust.
For Aziraphale, it meant that he would try to find ways to trick himself into demonstrating his lust for Crowley, such as by reading steamy fiction in order to quote lines from it to Crowley, or by undressing himself for Crowley, or by joining Crowley in the shower. Aziraphale had not yet been successful in any of these efforts. At least, Aziraphale didn’t consider them to be successes. For his own part, Crowley approved. He shamefully enjoyed having his hair washed and stroked so thoughtfully, which was what Aziraphale always ended up doing in shared showers.
“But, please, don’t think that I want us to stop!” Aziraphale said suddenly. “I’m fine, I assure you. I’m having a very nice time with you. It’s just…” He threw up his hands and smiled weakly. “One of those days, I suppose!”
“Don’t sweat it, I’m not going anywhere,” Crowley said. “That’s the last thing I’d do. No. I have a way better idea.”
Aziraphale’s hands curled in his lap. “You… have an idea?”
Crowley stood in front of Aziraphale and went to work. He undid the familiar buttons of Aziraphale’s shirt, all the way down, letting his fingers stray occasionally, letting Aziraphale see and feel just how much Crowley admired the creamy body in front of him. “You bet, angel,” Crowley said. He smiled at Aziraphale with all of his love—and thank Somebody he was able to unleash that emotion in his face, if nowhere else. “I won’t let you hit that wall, tonight.”
There was a delicious, telling delay to Aziraphale’s reply. “How… do you mean?” Yet the slight hiccup in his hushed words that told Crowley that Aziraphale was already guessing what Crowley meant.
Crowley removed Aziraphale’s shirt. “I mean that I’m gonna tie you up. Simple, right?” He knelt down to remove the angel’s white socks, gently slipping each one off its foot and setting each by the pile of the other clothes on the bed. “I’ll lock down this pretty body of yours so tight, you won’t ever get as far as that wall. You’ll forget all about the wall. Because I’m gonna be the one that’s stopping you from moving.”
Aziraphale’s jaw was hanging. His eyes were sparkling.
“You heard me right.” Crowley shifted his attention to removing the angel’s old-fashioned trousers. Though, he could never keep his eyes off of Aziraphale’s face for long. “I’m gonna keep you down, right where I want you. You won’t have to think about doing anything yourself. I’ll be a one-man act for a one-man audience. How does that sound to you?”
Just like that, all of the angel’s worries seemed to drip away into sheer gratitude and excitement. “Ah. You… you will do that?”
“Yup,” Crowley popped the word. “If you’re keen, anyway.”
“That’s…” There was a jolt of giddy laughter from Aziraphale. “Why, yes! Of course, yes! I would enjoy that very much. That is very kind of you!”
It was almost painful how gratified Crowley was to see him so joyful again. “Don’t mention it.”
“Will you use the thing that goes on the wrists?” Aziraphale asked happily. If he wasn’t literally bouncing on the bed with enthusiasm, his high-pitched tone of voice certainly conveyed the image of it.
“I can. If you want.”
“Or the metal bar thing that goes between the ankles?”
“It can be that, too.”
“Or the blindfold?”
“Neat, you said the word blindfold. I guess that means you’re not too excited by that one right now.” Crowley effortlessly finished tugging the trousers off of Aziraphale’s legs, leaving his gorgeous angel in nothing but pure white briefs. The briefs sported a sizeable tent. Crowley looked at it. For a moment, Crowley completely forgot what he was supposed to be doing.
“Um, you’re still dressed?” Aziraphale sounded nervous. It was a good kind of nervous. The kind that meant that he liked having Crowley’s attention on him.
“Hm? Oh. Yeah. Guess I am.” Crowley made himself stand up. “Hm. I better go get the handcuffs and the spreader bar before I do that. They’re in the chest downstairs.” He didn’t keep those toys in the bedroom. They hardly belonged in the wholesome atmosphere that his angel created in the bedroom whenever it was Aziraphale’s turn to run the show.
“Why go down for them?” Aziraphale asked. “You could miracle them up?”
Crowley was tempted to make a friendly gibe about Aziraphale being too impatient. However, he thought about that more carefully. He certainly could perform a miracle to bring up the items from downstairs.
But there was a great deal more to the power of miracles than merely moving items around.
“Or,” Crowley said slyly, “we could skip the toys, and I could just miracle you up.”
Aziraphale blinked. “What? Me? But, I’m already here?”
Crowley shook his head. “Not like that. Like this.” To demonstrate, he pointed his finger at one of the pillows on the bed and willed it to float. The pillow rose into the air and levitated in place. After a few seconds, Crowley set the pillow back down. “How about you next?” Crowley asked his angel.
More than anything else, Aziraphale was confused by the presentation. “You want to levitate me? I suppose that does sound like an interesting idea,” he said. “Although, I confess I don’t quite see how that relates to the wrist thing and the ankle thing?”
“You’ll see in a second. Trust me.”
“Hm. Very well, then.” Without asking anything else, Aziraphale scooted backwards, to the centre of the bed. “Go on, then?”
The implicit trust that Aziraphale was showing the demon was not lost on Crowley. Crowley hoarded that feeling in his soul like gold. Then he concentrated his willpower on Aziraphale.
Lifting Aziraphale into the air was not difficult at all. At first, there was only an inch or two of space between Aziraphale and the bed. Then there were three inches, then six inches. Aziraphale stayed there. Six inches was more than enough.
Because raising Aziraphale’s altitude wasn’t Crowley’s main goal. It was the side effect of the floating that Crowley was interested in.
“Ah… I…?” Aziraphale’s brow furrowed curiously. “I…?” Then his eyes widened as glorious realisation dawned on him. “Oh, I… can’t move…?”
Crowley paid close attention to Aziraphale’s reactions, watching for any signs of distress or doubt, and finding none. “Yeah. I don’t make things float, not really. I hold them in place.”
Aziraphale tested his movement. A very small range of movement was possible, but too much movement in any direction was met with a great deal of pressure which Aziraphale did not have the physical strength to overcome.
“Is it okay? I can put you down and get the toys instead, if it’s—”
“No!” Aziraphale exclaimed.
Crowley breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
“Please, don’t put me down yet. I like this very much. I think.” Aziraphale squirmed ineffectually in his invisible harness, like a car engine. “Could I ask you to set me upright, though? A little? I’m afraid you didn’t catch me in the best position.”
“You got it.” Crowley obediently waved two fingers.
Aziraphale was miracled into sitting upright, with his knees slightly bent and legs slightly apart, and his hands set idly to either side of himself. Aziraphale looked down at his own floating body with almost childlike wonder.
“How’s that? Better?”
“Yes, much better, although… I confess, I feel somewhat silly. I hope I don’t look too ridiculous like this?”
“No way. You don’t look silly.” Crowley finally crawled onto the bed. “Hey. Want me to tell you exactly how you look right now, angel?”
Aziraphale watched him with wide eyes.
“You look cute.” Crowley didn’t lay a hand on Aziraphale yet. Instead, he shrugged off the top half of his clothes in front of the angel. He didn’t bother going slowly. “Demons aren’t supposed to like cute things, but something tells me my lot’s missing out on something big. There can’t be anything sexier than the cute, old, kindly librarian vibe you’ve got going on.” Crowley tossed his black jacket and maroon shirt aside. “Or who knows? Maybe that’s just my fetish now.”
Aziraphale pouted shyly. “I… I am a bookseller, not a librarian.”
“I’m pretty sure you have to actually sell books to be a bookseller. Anyway, that’s not my point. You didn’t have the bookshop until recently, but you’ve always had that cute librarian look about you.” Crowley kicked his legs out in front of himself and pushed all the lower clothes off of his body. “I like it.” He was stark naked now, and not afraid to show it.
“Ah. Um. Thank you.” Much to the demon’s amusement, Aziraphale made the polite effort of keeping his eyes from trailing down Crowley’s bare body too much.
“It’s time to pick your pleasure, angel. What would you like from me?”
“Um… I don’t know. I really couldn’t say. Anything would be lovely. Um. Why don’t you decide?”
Crowley hummed disapprovingly. He was more interested in Aziraphale’s desires than any of his own. Fortunately for Crowley, he knew just how to wring Aziraphale’s deepest desires out of him. “Are you sure you want that?” he said in his most innocent voice. “Your choices are better. You don’t want mine. I can be a bit of a bastard.”
“That’s nonsense! You’re no such thing,” Aziraphale said. “Yes, I am certain that’s what I want! You can decide what to do.”
“Okay,” Crowley sang ominously, “if you say so.” He came up close to Aziraphale, still without touching him.
Aziraphale watched him very attentively.
“I left your underwear on so you’d be more comfortable,” Crowley said. “But, I guess we don’t need it anymore, do we.” With a few rolls of his wrist, Crowley used his magic to tug the white underwear softly off of Aziraphale’s legs, and then pushed the two floating legs aside as easily as revolving doors, spreading them wide, so that nothing stopped Crowley from seeing how hard Aziraphale was already. “That’s better.”
As expected, the unabashed, unfettered attention left Aziraphale in a heady, self-conscious daze. “Ah… Crowley…”
“Yeah, you look perfect like that.” Crowley made himself comfortable in front of Aziraphale. “Just keep looking perfect for me, angel.” He balanced himself on one hand, while he spat on the other to moisten it a little. Then he lowered the hand to his own growing length and stroked himself in front of Aziraphale. “Fuck, yes,” he groaned with pleasure. “Aziraphale. You look so good.”
The effect on Aziraphale was powerful and immediate. He stopped breathing. He stopped blinking, too.
Crowley teased, “I guess this is what happens when you let me decide, angel.” He smiled playfully as he rocked into his own hand. Slowly. Indulgently. Every stroke was for Aziraphale’s eyes to enjoy. Crowley’s own gratification was merely secondary. “Ah, yeah. That cute, thick cock would taste so good in my mouth. I wish I could rub it on my tongue and down my throat. That’d be amazing. I’d be moaning like an animal. Oh, that’d be so good. Bet that hole of yours would taste great, too. I’d love to put my tongue inside you and wet you up. I’d drag my tongue back and forth, losing myself in the way the muscles in your pretty arse twitch and soften. It’d be so bloody good. Yeah, I want that so badly.” His hips danced like the waves of the ocean into his hand. “Oh, fuck, you look so good. I want a tassste.”
The angel’s body responded admirably to Crowley’s lewd display, heating up to an ideal pitch. Aziraphale had to breathe again to speak. “C-Crowley.”
“Yesss?” Crowley hissed. “Tell me, what is it? You fancy watching me wank off to the sight of you, angel?”
Aziraphale licked his lips. “Yes,” he whispered. Yet he wasn’t ready to say anything else.
Crowley grinned. He would just have to try harder, then. “You know your cock’s been getting bigger all this time?” Crowley said. “You see, I fancy watching you, too. Looks to me like you’re hot and aching, angel. Too bad you’re not asking for anything from me. I would have liked to give you whatever it was you wanted. Eh, it can’t be helped. I’ll just pretend that this is you in my hand instead.” He closed his eyes and stroked himself with greater enthusiasm. “That’s it. Come on, Aziraphale, please, just let me do this for you. Yeah, doesn’t my hand feel good on you? Yeah, you’re getting so hard for me, being so good. I won’t make you wait. I’m gonna make you feel so amazing.”
“Crowley!” Aziraphale shouted loudly.
Crowley’s snake eyes popped open.
Aziraphale was trembling violently in the air. “Please, my dear! Please! I need you.”
“Yeah? What do you need, angel? Tell me. Please, tell me. Whatever it is, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything.”
“I can’t say it!” There was an unwelcome strain in the wrinkles around Aziraphale’s eyes. “I can’t say it. I’m sorry! I’m very sorry.”
There was a painful spasm in Crowley’s heart. Aziraphale’s desire must be overpowering if he wasn’t able to describe it at all. Crowley stopped what he was doing. “Oh. Sh, it’s okay.” He crawled to Aziraphale, and reached out to comfort him with a hug. An embrace. An honest kiss. Something.
But he couldn’t. He simply couldn’t. He was a demon. What did a demon like him know about sweetly comforting someone? Nothing. He couldn’t embrace Aziraphale. He couldn’t pet him kindly. He doubted he could even rub the angel’s back without ruining it by making it lustful. Demons and love were never meant to mix.
However, right now, none of that mattered. Crowley was cleverer than his own limitations. He didn’t have to embrace Aziraphale. The demon had his own way of showing his love. In fact, Crowley knew for a fact that it was the sultry kind of love, not the innocent kind, that Aziraphale wanted most.
“It’s okay,” Crowley said. “Don’t panic. I’ve got you.” He finally touched Aziraphale. He laid his palms on the angel’s soft, thick thighs. “You don’t have to tell me what it is you want,” he said. “I’m pretty good at this. I’ll figure it out. You just relax and have a good time, all right, angel?”
The gentle touch to his legs sent shivers through Aziraphale’s body. “Crowley…”
Crowley dropped his head to suck off his angel. He took the long, pulsing thickness of his angel deep inside of himself, wasting no time to give the angel comfort in the only way a foul demon like him could.
The air was saturated with the most electric, indecent whimper that Crowley had ever heard. “Oh. Oh my goodness.”
Crowley continued to stroke Aziraphale’s thighs as he bobbed his head up and down. He moved along the angel’s length with attention and tenderness, soaking him with his salivating mouth. Not moving too quickly, and not too slowly.
“Please,” Aziraphale moaned. “Please, Crowley, oh, dear me, that feels nice. Please, don’t stop touching me. Don’t stop.”
Crowley growled. Those desperate words had been spoken by the angel who had so kindly and naively given away his flaming sword in the garden long ago. This was the same angel who had been his acquaintance-turned-friend for thousands of years, who knew Crowley better than anyone else and yet still stayed with him. It was Crowley who was giving that sweet angel the carnal pleasure that the angel was starved for.
“Crowley. Crowley.” Aziraphale chanted Crowley’s name like a prayer. The angel was still floating inches above the bed. He still couldn’t move. Yet there was no terror or fear in him, only love and want. “Crowley, you’re sublime, more, please, more.”
Crowley replaced his mouth with his hand. As he palmed generously up and down Aziraphale’s member, he looked up at the angel’s soft, aroused face. His expert gaze searched for the signs of an accomplished temptation. “Hm, no, I don’t think this is what you were thinking of.”
“But I love this. I love this so much.”
“But there’s something you wanted more,” Crowley said. “And I’m gonna find it.” His spare hand stroked up from Aziraphale’s thigh to his hips, to his abdomen, to his chest. Crowley dragged his thumb very faintly over Aziraphale’s nipple, delicately, just the way the angel liked it. He stroked the nipple in time with Aziraphale’s cock.
A long, needy whimper punctuated the air. Tears of pleasure were forming in the corners of Aziraphale’s eyes.
“No, that’s not what you wanted, either,” Crowley said. Even so, he kept his thumb where it was for a little while. He devoted some time to favouring each nipple, rubbing them between his fingers, taking care not to overwhelm his sensitive angel with too much pressure. For no other reason than that he suddenly yearned to, he slowly savoured each nub with his tongue, stealing a taste of yet another part of Aziraphale’s body.
Aziraphale couldn’t stop moaning Crowley’s name.
Crowley moved higher, licking up to Aziraphale’s clavicle, to his neck, to his pink lips. Crowley kissed him, marrying their mouths together, asking for permission to enter Aziraphale’s heat with presses of his long snake tongue and being kindly rewarded with opened lips.
Aziraphale kissed him back chastely, as if Crowley wasn’t actively rubbing him between his legs.
Crowley drew back to closely examine Aziraphale’s debauched expression. “Jeez. Not this, either, eh?” he said light-heartedly. “I’m running out of places to taste.”
“I love you, Crowley. You are a wonderful person.”
That luscious morsel of affection and praise from his angel dug its way straight into the demon's groin, causing Crowley’s body to jerk once, to instinctively try to draw itself towards the speaker of that praise. “Ah, whoops.” An ironic smile twisted Crowley’s angular features. “Easy there, angel. Don’t go distracting me like that. I’m busy here. I’m about to get even busier, too.”
Crowley ceased rubbing pleasure into Aziraphale, and he let go of the angel’s arousal, though the demon never removed his touch from Aziraphale’s body completely. Crowley used hands and his magic to change Aziraphales’ position. He manipulated the angel in the air as if he were as light as a leaf in the breeze. Crowley spun him backwards, to lie on his back in the air as if reclining on the bed that was inches below him. Crowley tilted Aziraphale’s chest and head slightly up, and bent Aziraphale’s knees. “You okay with this?” Crowley asked.
Aziraphale nodded, as eagerly as his limited range of motion would permit.
“Good. Just checking.” Crowley took hold of each round cheek of the arse in front of him, kneading them ever so slightly with his fingers. He stuck out his snake-like tongue and licked into Aziraphale’s tight hole.
“Ah! Ah. That’s… nice…”
Crowley stopped to peek at Aziraphale’s face. Then, Crowley’s face split into a victorious grin. “Gotcha! Hear ye, hear ye,” he proclaimed. “The angel wants it in the arse today.”
Aziraphale smiled a little. “Yes…”
“Told you I’d figure it out.” Crowley went back to licking into Aziraphale like he was made for it. His tongue was long, but Crowley wasn’t interested in penetrating too deeply into his angel just yet. He didn’t have to. It was no secret to Crowley that Aziraphale simply loved to feel the intimacy of Crowley’s attention in places that Aziraphale had long considered too private and shameful to be worthy of receiving adoration. Crowley had never had any such compunction himself, and he certainly didn’t now, and he was going to take full advantage of that fact. He rubbed his tongue against Aziraphale’s nervous walls and stroked his finger along the silky stretch of skin between the crotch and the arse.
Long, ragged moans were the demon’s reward. “I love you, Crowley. There’s no part of you I don’t love. I love your eyes, and your nose, and your mouth. I love the muscles in your arms, and the way I can see them move and twist under your skin when you’re not wearing sleeves.”
Each comforting word sent a sordid pulse of pleasure through Crowley. He removed his tongue. “Shit, angel. I told you, that stuff is distracting as fuck. I’m not kidding. I’m gonna cream the sheets if you keep that up.”
But there was a mischievous glint to Aziraphale’s kindhearted eyes. “Have I ever told you? I am terribly fond of the way you cry, Crowley, when we go to the cinema or we watch television, and you see something that moves you. I loved how deeply you cried for Bambi’s mum last week. You were so sympathetic and sweet. It made me very happy to hold you, to wrap a blanket around you, while I let you cry into my shoulder.”
That wasn’t fair at all. Crowley was weak to that much love. He whined with need, and his hips began to thrust against the bed. As soon as he realised what he was doing, though, Crowley seized control of his own throat and forced his hips to still. “Fuck, how am I gonna save myself up for you, when you talk to me like that? You know what it does to me. Or, do you? Maybe I should show you.” He dipped his finger into the slightly wet arsehole. It wasn’t quite wet enough for Crowley’s liking, though, so he surreptitiously miracled a small bit of lubricant onto his finger. At the same time, he stroked further down Azirpahale’s perineum again, to stop and play very gently with the hanging pouch of skin.
Aziraphale gasped at the combined sensations. “Oh, dear.”
“This is what it feels like inside me, angel,” Crowley murmured, “when you say stupidly nice things to me.” He fondled the pouch of skin in his fingers, treating it like a prize to be handled with care, while he prepared Aziraphale. “Like you’re warming me somewhere inside, some place deep inside me that was never meant to be warmed.”
The plan had been to distract Aziraphale more than Aziraphale was distracting Crowley. At first, it seemed like it was going well. However, that plan soon backfired spectacularly. Declarations and praise exploded out of Aziraphale. “I love you dearly! I love you! I love you so much, Crowley! I won’t let you be cold inside anymore. I wish to hold you, and cherish you. If you’ll allow it, I’ll make you a cup of hot cocoa, wrap you in a blanket, give you a pillow to put your arms around, and hug you on the sofa—”
Crowley moaned in ecstasy. “Damn it!” The sweet, sizzling feeling coursing through him was maddeningly enticing. He had to pause what he was doing to work to regain his composure. “Angel. Cut it out, please. I’m begging you. I can’t come yet. I wanna be long and hard for you. I wanna come inside you, please. I want you to feel what it does to my body when I’m touching you like this.”
Even though Crowley could not have made his plea sound more heartfelt, Aziraphale’s response was calm and surprisingly droll. “Oh. Is that so? I suppose you’ll have to find a way to make me be quiet, then.”
That confused Crowley. “What?”
“Well, I’m not averse to being made to be quiet, but if I’m not made to be quiet, then, um, the way I see it, if you, um, that is to say…” Aziraphale paused. “If you don’t last, then I don’t mind. It makes me very happy to make you happy. You can always do the other thing later. When all I can do is speak anyway, well, I can hardly help myself—”
“Oh. I get it. You want me to gag you,” Crowley said. “Sorry, angel. I was a little slow on the uptake, there.”
Aziraphale bit down on his lip and swallowed loudly. “That’s not bad of me, is it?”
“Ha. Bad?” Crowley caressed one hand in one continuous streak over Aziraphale’s crotch, up to the hips, the stomach, the heart, the jawline. “I have no idea how you could think it was bad. Who’s it supposed to be hurting, exactly? No, it’s not bad. All you’ve gotta do is say you want it, and it’s yours.”
Yet Aziraphale couldn’t say anything, though he tried. A little shame and distress crept into his shy expression.
Crowley hated that. He wished that he could do more to help Aziraphale speak his desires freely. Yet no amount of handcuffs or suspension could free the lustful words that were locked behind the holy wall in Aziraphale’s mind. As long as Aziraphale had the power of speech, he would keep hitting that wall, Crowley realised.
There was only one thing that Crowley could do about it.
He trailed his fingers to Aziraphale’s lower lip and whispered, “Just answer me this. What colour is the flag?”
“Green,” Aziraphale whispered back. “Green. Please, believe me. It’s green.”
That was all the go-ahead that Crowley needed. “You only have to say it once, and I believe you.” He rubbed Aziraphale’s lip, willing magic straight from his fingertips into Aziraphale’s mouth. It was important to Crowley to make this miracle feel more personal than the others. He cherished Aziraphale’s conversation more than anything, and to seal it away like this was too big a thing for him to even comprehend fully. “I told you, I’m gonna be the one who’s holding you back. If you don’t talk, it’s because I’m not letting you.”
“Crow—” Aziraphale’s jaw grew heavy with Crowley’s magic. The angel made an indistinct throaty noise. The lips were parted, but words could not form. Aziraphale’s eyes were large with fascination.
“Let me know if you get scared,” Crowley said without delay. “I know you can use your own magic to spell out words in the air, or tap out a code with an object, or smack something into me, or any of a million things. I’m gonna make it very simple, though, so you don’t gotta worry about it.” Crowley leaned over to the side of the bed and plucked his maroon shirt from the pile of clothes. He dropped it onto Aziraphale’s chest. Crowley rather liked the way the shirt draped over the angel’s suspended sides. “That’ll be your red flag,” Crowley said. “Wiggle it up once, and I’ll release some of the magic so you can talk. Wiggle it up twice, and I’ll stop everything. Okay? Uh, wiggle it up once, if you’ve got it. And wiggle it up twice if you’re scared.”
Aziraphale looked at him with achingly deep gratitude. Then he stared at the shirt. The shirt jerked into the air once, and then came back down. Aziraphale likely wasn’t as accustomed to making things float as Crowley was, because the movement was not as fluid as Crowley’s movements were. Crowley didn’t care about that, though.
“Brilliant.” Crowley slithered back down to Aziraphale’s legs.
Aziraphale’s gaze rested heavily on the demon’s shoulders.
“By the way, you haven’t forgotten that it’s me holding your body still like this, have you? ‘Cause I sure as Hell haven’t.” Crowley indulgently brushed the smooth skin of Aziraphale’s rear as he pushed two fingers inside.
Aziraphale’s delighted moans sounded oddly smothered. He was trying to make words.
“Can’t talk, huh? I know you’re trying to. I won’t let you, though. That’s me, keeping you from talking. If you kept talking, that’d be distracting, and I can’t let you do that. I can’t have you moving, either. If I let you talk and move around, you would stroke my hair like you do and tell me all those feelings you’ve got for me.” Two fingers became three. “You’d be all nice and innocent about it, like the sweet angel you are, but you better believe I’d get off on it like nobody’s business. Yeah, I’d probably pull at my cock and beg you to tell me more.”
There was a spasm of intensely excited squirming from Aziraphale.
“Hey, sh, just relax. I’ve got you.” Three fingers became four. “Anyway, I’d rather put all of my focus on you. It’s only fitting. You’re the centre of my world. Not literally. I guess Hell technically is. But you know what I’m talking about. You’re, uh, important to me. Damn, that’s putting it mildly, though. I wish I could use soppy words like you can. Well, whatever. I can’t, so I’ll just do this to you, instead. I think you like this better, anyway. It feels like you’re ready. I’m gonna enter you, now, ‘kay? Just shake that shirt around, if you ever want me to stop.” At last, Crowley positioned himself, and eased his way into Aziraphale’s floating body.
It was like watching Aziraphale’s whole body sparkle. From merely that long slide of Crowley’s first push in, Aziraphale shuddered in rapture.
Crowley waited a few seconds, just enough for his precious Aziraphale to adjust or to wiggle the shirt. The shirt didn’t do anything. So Crowley began to move. As always, his pace followed a studious and careful progression. He started slowly, and gradually worked his way up to a more gratifying tempo. The shirt on Aziraphale’s chest moved in rhythm with their unified bodies.
Crowley let out his own wanton moan of desire. “You want to tell me all about it, don’t you?” he said in a gravelly pitch. “You’re dying to tell me how much it riles you up to look at my naked body, how good it feels to have my hard cock inside you, filling you up, making you feel so good. Yesss,” he hissed, reading every sign of immense arousal in Aziraphale’s open face, “you want me to know how excited you are by the sight of my hips moving into you like it’s going out of style, by the slick noise of it. But you don’t have to say a word, angel, ‘cause what you’re feeling is written all over that sweet, dirty face you’re making for me.”
The face was the only piece of Aziraphale that Crowley put no magic into. It wasn’t necessary. There were no inhibitions to burden the lust in Aziraphale’s loving, delightfully hooded eyes.
“You are mine,” Crowley murmured. “I wanna make you mine, all the time. I could do this to you forever. You’re perfect for me, angel. You feel fantassstic. You always do.” With another miracle, he rotated Aziraphale slightly up. His thrusts were perfectly aimed to hit the intimate spot that never failed to make his angel sing.
Aziraphale shivered with each thrust, like one jolted by a series of static shocks. Quiet moans drifted from his clogged throat. His eyes drifted closed.
Crowley encouraged him. “Yesss, that’s it. Get lost in it. I’m making it easy for you. So go ahead. My cock’s for you. My hands, my body, everything is for you. Come on. Let me satisfy you. It’s okay for you to like it. There’s nothing to be afraid of, when it’s just you and me.”
There was a magical sound of a quiet, happy sob.
“You liked hearing me say that, angel?” Crowley’s hips rocked harder. “Yeah, there’s no shame here. I’m not ashamed. It’s the opposite, actually. I’m doing pretty good, right? I’m a demonic tempter who has got his nice prey all tied up and swimming in lussst. You think I’ll get a commendation?” Crowley smirked and shook his head shortly. “Nah, they don’t know anything about real temptation down there. Maybe you can give me a commendation instead, later. Something to do with a blanket would be nice, if you felt like it. Yeah, that’d be good.”
A gasp resembling a laugh escaped Aziraphale's throat. He opened his eyes, and a few tears of joy came trickling down his cheeks. Aziraphale’s affectionate gaze was locked with Crowley’s.
The demon’s dark soul could hardly bear the pressure of the embrace it felt from all around. “Ah, damn, angel, don’t make me cry, too.” Crowley had to blink a couple of times. His hips stuttered in their diligent movement, though only once or twice. “It looks good on you, but I’m trying to be cool, here.”
Aziraphale didn’t say anything. He didn’t do anything. He could only make subdued sounds of laughter, and desire, and delight.
“Wanna know something else, Aziraphale?” Crowley said, his heart ready to explode in his chest any second now. “If you always wanted to do it like thisss, that’d be fine by me. There’s not a whole lot that a demon has to offer an angel who’s already got everything. As much as I like sharing chocolates and ice cream and wine with you, I’m stoked that I can share this with you, too. It’s kind of funny. I’m an expert at lust, but I never gave a shit about it until you told me you wanted me. Now I’m hooked on it. I can’t get enough of touching you.
“You’re such a sexy little angel. Satan, your arse feels so good right now. You’re so soft, so inviting, like a pretty little flower, ssspread wide open, waiting so nicely for his bee to pollinate him. Makes me wanna drive into you with everything I’ve got, just like this. I love fucking you. I love giving you pleasure.
“I love everything about your body. I’m crazy about the way you shiver a bit when I touch you. All I gotta do is ssskim my fingers over you anywhere, and it sets you on fire. I love how obvious it is when you’re at the brink, so full of want, so desperate, like you are now. Yeah, I can feel how badly you want it. It’s all right, that’s what I’m here for. I’m here to give it to you. Let go, angel. Come for me, angel. It’s jussst you and me. Come for me.”
Aziraphale let go. He came, seemingly from nothing more than the feeling of Crowley inside of him. Strain melted into relaxation in his face. He was the picture of boneless ecstasy.
Crowley, grinning widely with outrageous amounts of pride and love, followed close behind him. He’d been holding himself in, waiting for Aziraphale. In fact, Crowley could have gone on holding himself in, but he longed to give Aziraphale the feeling of the demon’s release inside of him. Crowley spilled himself deep into Aziraphale. He put all of his effort into making absolutely certain that his angel felt everything, knowing how it would please him to do so, eager to please him.
Whenever they were together like this, Crowley did not so much chase his own pleasure as he chased Aziraphale’s.
Through it all, Aziraphale was as receptive as Crowley knew he would be. The angel’s expression was peaceful, even thankful. The demon’s veins constricted to see his angel so beautiful.
Crowley delicately lowered Aziraphale back down to the sheets. He released his magic completely. Aziraphale was free to collapse into the bed underneath the demon, who crawled on top of him. Crowley was waiting eagerly to hear what Aziraphale would have to say to him first, after his period of silence.
They were both breathing hard. Each of them looked at the other, one gaze directed up in awe, one gaze directed down in anticipation.
There, once again, was Aziraphale’s familiar old smile. The same smile from Eden, from Egypt, from Rome, from Paris. “I love you, too.”
If only Crowley could find the strength to say those words himself. If only he could pull Aziraphale into his arms and hug him like a decent person. Instead, he kissed him fervently and with fiery longing, never quite stopping long enough to give Aziraphale time to say another unbearably lovely word.
Aziraphale’s lips responded sweetly to Crowley, though they could never keep up with Crowley’s hungry assault. As his rough hands worshipped the angel’s smooth skin and light curls, Crowley kissed his angel. He kissed him for long seconds, for long minutes, well into the night.
At the end of the month, somewhere Downstairs, a demonic clerk did an astonished double-take at the receipt in her claws.
“Dear Satan!” the clerk cried, though there was no one around to hear. “Suspending an angel in the air? Tormenting his body? Silencing him? Holy shit, he’s torturing that angel!” The clerk grinned merrily. “That a boy, Crawly! This is excellent news. I knew there was still some of the devil left in the old snake, after all. The stuff about the lubricant is kind of confusing, but the rest of it is extremely promising.” She dragged her finger down the length of the receipt, scanning over every line.
She frowned. “No weapons? I don’t see any requisition for combat miracles here. Oh, uh. Somebody did tell me that the heretic angel couldn’t be killed. There’d be no point in Crawly trying to kill him, then, if the lot of them Upstairs couldn’t even do the deed. So he is torturing the angel instead, huh? Understandable. That’s not a bad way to get some revenge for how the angel corrupted him.” The clerk was disappointed when the receipts came to an end. ”Doesn’t look like Crawly kept him for long, though? What gives?”
The clerk spun around in her creaky swivel chair and flipped through some folders in a dark, dusty filing cabinet. “I guess I can run this by the head office,” she said. “That blooming angel must have used his own magic to escape. But that’s no problem for us to deal with. I can put in a request to have a real tool sent up to Crawly. Some device that an angel can’t cheat his way out of. Then the old snake could keep that food-gulping pansy completely restrained,” she said with a pump of her fist, “and really give him what for!”
Even though Crawly wasn’t part of the gang anymore, no self-respecting demon would be opposed to aiding in the spread of misery concerning any heretic angels. Besides, even though the clerk hated Crowley passionately, they had all Fallen from grace together, and the old team loyalty was still there.
The clerk pulled out a yellowed form from a very dusty old box and began filling out the required paperwork.