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It was morning in the bookshop, and a lazy Sunday morning at that. The eventual bustle and crush of the Soho street outside was still only a quiet murmur, the human world just beginning to stir. The tiny upstairs bedroom was filled with early autumn sunlight, and in that bedroom a very happy angel was awake.
Awake, and lying contentedly propped on his side in bed, indulging in one of his new favourite pastimes: watching Crowley sleep.
He adored watching him all the time, of course, but it was such a treat to be able to stare as much as he liked, to see the sharp lines of that familiar face so soft and relaxed. After coming so close to losing him it was a sight he could never get enough of. Aziraphale sighed dreamily, and ran his eyes slowly over the demon lying next to him, taking in every beloved little detail.
Only one month since the chaotic aftermath of the Armageddon-that-wasn’t; only one month since they had finally allowed themselves to acknowledge their feelings for each other. No time at all, really, but somehow time aplenty to transform his entire world. In being cast aside by his people his staid life had been cracked wide open...and as it turned out, those cracks had finally made room for the absolute joy that was Crowley. They had made room for a whole host of new freedoms, really, things that he would once have almost certainly considered blasphemous. Now there was a whole new landscape of human experiences to try, and learn, and delight in. Together.
Sleeping was one of those things, but at the moment Aziraphale had no desire to close his eyes. Not when there were such delights to be seen right here in front of him.
Crowley was currently sprawled inelegantly on his back, bare chested, one long arm thrown carelessly above his head with mouth agape. Snoring lightly and drooling onto his pillow. Very deeply asleep.
Well. That wasn’t entirely true. Aziraphale’s mouth twitched into a very un-angelic smirk. One significant part of Crowley was very much awake. Awake and, er...vertical. It was one of the funnier parts of human male anatomy, really. Apparently the body could decide it wanted something without any input from the conscious mind. He had learned very recently how insistent the body could be.
Aziraphale gazed down at his sleeping demon, at the long lean body stretched out atop the covers, and was assailed with the almost overwhelming urge to touch him.
This, he supposed, was Lust, thought it felt nothing at all like he had always been led to believe. From the way the archangels spoke of it, walking around with their celestial noses in the air, he had always assumed that it should feel...shallower, dirtier, somehow. Not this sharp, bright, clean desire for Crowley that sent joy pumping through his veins. The teachings had said nothing of the sheer beauty of lips against skin, the pure joy of giving pleasure to someone you love. The shocking intimacy and intangible connection that flowed through such things, far deeper than mere physical contact. They had said nothing of the way it made the heart race and the mind light up with the need to touch and be touched.
No. They certainly hadn’t mentioned any of that.
Superfluous and shallow. Crude. Unnecessary. So the other angels had always sneered about human physical pleasures. Says the blind man about the sun, Aziraphale thought wryly. He should have known better than to listen to people who didn’t even appreciate the marvels of eating.
He might have stayed just as blind to this forever, too, if not for Crowley’s courage in making the first move. That all-important first kiss followed by the night locked in each other’s arms had been a true revelation. Lust, mixed with love, was a truly marvelous thing.
And then of course…he felt his cheeks heat at the memory. There had been that other first, shortly after moving in, when Crowley had woken with a jolt in the night, wracked by dream terrors. Aziraphale had been frantic with worry, and as they consoled each other their embraces had grown more and more passionate. Crowley had been the one to finally climb atop him, to push his thighs apart and fumble his way through things they had both only read or heard about. To drown the fear in something else entirely. That night they had again discovered something new and beautiful in the darkness.
Aziraphale reached out to carefully brush a piece of russet hair away from those closed eyes, and smiled to himself. Crowley was a quick learner when properly motivated. He certainly didn’t fumble anymore, no. Since then, they had both learned a thing or two about expressing desire.
The object of that desire chose that particular moment to let out a very loud snore, and Aziraphale had to press a hand over his mouth to suppress a laugh. God Almighty, how he loved him. Blasphemy or not, he loved his ridiculous, impulsive demon with a keen sharp fervour unmatched by anything he had ever felt before. Six thousand years, and it had been waiting right there in front of him all that time. It was remarkable what you were able to ignore when you put your mind to it.
He wasn’t about to ignore any of it any longer, not for another second. He pursed his lips, and tilted his head thoughtfully. Crowley had woken him so gently the morning before, which had quickly segued into something slightly less gentle and mutually wonderful. This morning...he would very much like to return the favour. He couldn’t leave all the work up to Crowley, now, could he?
Aziraphale placed gentle fingertips underneath the demon’s chin, and leaned in and kissed him. He held it until he felt his breathing deepen, saw the luminous golden eyes flutter open. “Good morning, my lovely,” he murmured. Lovely indeed. Darkly beautiful and tasting of smoke, desperately tantalising and his. Lying here splayed across the blankets like this, erect and ready, he practically smoldered.
“Mmm.” Crowley smiled and opened his mouth to say something, but Aziraphale kissed him again before he could speak.
“Shh, darling. How about you just lie there and let me take care of you for once, hm?”
He kissed him again on the mouth, then on the chin right below his lips. Then on the throat, feeling the rugged crest of his Adam’s apple, then, slower, on the pulse directly to the side. He kept his lips there for a long moment, exhaling softly, licking him gently and feeling his tongue scrape over the rough stubbled skin. By now his own heartbeat was fluttering rapidly in response. Crowley always made him feel like this- caught between wild impatience and a desire to take his time, to savour every little instant, and the razor edge between the two made him feel more humanly alive than he had ever thought possible. He moved his mouth down to Crowley’s bare chest, feeling his breath quicken as he kissed him with growing hunger, following the soft dark line of hair trailing from chest to navel. When that line vanished into the peaked pyjamas he shifted over to kneel between his open thighs...and pressed a slow kiss on that peak through the thin fabric.
Crowley moaned quietly and clutched at the sheets. Aziraphale took that as encouragement and kissed it again, taking his time, caressing that lovely hard bulge over and over again, worshipping it with his mouth and fingertips while Crowley’s breathing grew heavier and less controlled. He pressed his tongue to the rigid arch and exhaled a slow breath, leaving a warm, wet spot.
He paused and looked up.
Crowley had raised himself up on his elbows and was watching him, glassy-eyed and mouth hanging slightly open. He wet his lips with his tongue, and there was a silent entreaty in those golden eyes.
Aziraphale knew what he wanted, and he wanted it too. He had never done this before- like everything else so far, he had only been on the receiving end of things, but…it was high time for that to change.
He carefully rolled down the waist of the pyjama bottoms, inch by inch until Crowley sprang entirely free, and oh…he was just as hard and irresistible as he’d looked from the outside. Beautifully flushed and ready, as perfectly shaped as anything he’d ever seen in books of art. Just looking at it made his heart pound in that new, delightfully frantic way that he was still getting used to. He lovingly cupped that hardness in his hand and kissed it, kissed all the way up its length, then ran his tongue along the warm skin from bottom to top, making Crowley twitch. Mmm. It was even warmer than the rest of him.
Heart pounding, Aziraphale finally did what he had burned to do. He laid his hands on those narrow hips, bent his head and pushed Crowley’s hard, warm sex deep into his mouth.
Crowley gasped and clenched his eyes shut. “Oh- oh wow. Ngk. Uh, I uhhhh-" He was even less coherent than usual, fuddled with sleep and clearly coping with loss of blood from more useful areas for thinking. He fell back against the bed and laid a hand atop Aziraphale’s head, holding him firmly in place.
Aziraphale sucked gently, and stroked experimentally with his tongue. There was something beautifully, intimately erotic about having him in his mouth that was unlike anything else they had done so far. He moaned deep in his throat, feeling the vibrations hum their way up and out.
“Oh…” Crowley squirmed and arched further back into the pillows, tightening his grip on his hair. He tilted his hips, thrusting helplessly up just a little, and Aziraphale choked a bit at the unexpected motion. Crowley jerked his head up at the sound, mouth falling open in dismay and letting go of his hair as if it had burned him. “Oh- oh shit, I’m sorry angel, I’m- I didn’t mean to-”
“Hush.” He ran a hand down his stomach, reassuring. “It’s quite alright, love, I just wasn’t prepared.” He swallowed and let out a deep breath, relaxing. “Go on, try again. I think I have the hang of it now.” He took him back into his mouth, and slid his hands under him to clutch his buttocks. He squeezed, encouraging.
Crowley pushed slightly, and this time Aziraphale was ready, with his throat relaxed. When he didn’t choke again, Crowley began gently undulating his hips, thrusting shallowly up into his mouth in time with his tongue. He rested his hands on his head again, softer this time. “Holy shit, angel,” he mumbled breathlessly. “Mmh. Wow.”
“Mmn hmm,” was all Aziraphale could reply, and with that witty exchange he was done talking for a while. He gave in to desire and sucked him in slow, warm pulls over and over again, tasting him, learning the details of his girth and length in an entirely new way while Crowley shivered and moaned. He soon found a rhythm that Crowley liked, he could tell by the way his breath caught and the slender body tightened under his hands, and they were suddenly moving together in perfect sync.
Crowley moaned and shifted his fingers in his hair, stroking his head. “Aziraphale,” he muttered. “Oh...mm, like that, yeah…ah…ah…” He pushed slightly deeper, against the back of his throat, breathing growing more and more ragged until –
“I’m- I’m going to come,” he said suddenly, urgently, and let go of his head. “Angel, I- if you don’t want-”
But he did want. Pulse thundering in his ears, Aziraphale tightened his grip on his hips and pushed him further into his mouth, holding him as deep as he could manage. Crowley moaned loudly and grabbed his hair again with both hands.
“I love you,” he panted. “I love you I love yaah, ffffuck…” He groaned, and stopped forming actual words. There was a pulse, then another, and Aziraphale’s mouth filled with warm salt. It was like nothing he’d ever tasted. There was too much, it spilled out of his mouth and onto Crowley’s stomach. He coughed and swallowed, trying to catch his breath.
He ran a trembling hand over his lips, the shock and thrill of what he had just done still shuddering up and down every nerve of his body. “Good…good Heavens,” he whispered.
He looked up at Crowley, who lay in a panting heap against the pillows with hair fallen in his face. Their eyes met, and they shared that moment of awe that comes with experiencing something new together. As he stared into those gorgeous eyes he was struck with a fresh wave of intense want – he wanted more of him. He wanted to know what he felt like, to experience everything he had to offer, right now. Six thousand years of waiting, and he was out of patience at last.
Still panting, full to bursting of that bold, pure need that he barely understood, he crawled eagerly on top of him. “I love you too,” he whispered. “I want you.” He had never wanted anything so badly in his life. He kissed Crowley with lips still damp from him, and the demon slid long-fingered hands up into his hair and kissed him passionately back.
He finally pulled back slightly without letting go, and they stared at each other: him trembling, Crowley with smoky gold eyes full of a furious desire. A spark of silent understanding leapt between them.
“C’mere, angel,” the demon whispered. Then those hands were out of his hair and on his hips instead, tugging his pyjama bottoms off in impatient handfuls. Aziraphale found himself half naked and pushing those warm knees up and apart before he even quite realized what was happening. He knew what to do; had been on the receiving end of it many times over the last month, but he had never dared.... His hands shook with nervous want as he used the miracle they had discovered, the one that provided an excellent approximation of human lubricant. He had never used it on himself before.
He paused again, suddenly uncertain, and looked down at him. “My dear, are- I know I’ve never- are you sure you want me to do this?”
Hands tightened on his hips, pulling him a little closer. “Positive.” It was just a whisper, but no less assured.
Aziraphale kissed him. “Try to relax, love,” he murmured. He remembered those first fumbling times, and reached down to gently slide a finger inside him, then two, using a drop of magic to ease the way. Crowley moaned and hugged him tighter.
When he judged him ready Aziraphale took hold of his own erection, and with a gasp slowly pushed partway into him. He paused, allowing them both to adjust to the new sensation, then slowly, oh so slowly, eased forward the rest of the way, bit by bit until he was all the way in. They both exhaled shakily, and he lowered his face to rest his forehead against Crowley's. “Oh, my dearest…you feel so good.” The glorious, molten-gold heat of his body burned all around him, enveloping him and filling him up at the same time. “Are you alright?” The demon’s eyes were clenched shut, and his nails were digging into his back.
“Yeah,” Crowley whispered, without opening his eyes. “Ugh, you’re just so...” He swallowed and shook his head.
Aziraphale let out another shaky breath and kissed him.
He felt a brush of wetness on his cheek. When he pulled back, he saw that a tear had escaped the corner of Crowley’s eye and trickled slowly over his cheekbone, into his hair.
“Oh, my darling.” Aziraphale felt that his heart would burst right out of his chest, aching with love and so much tenderness that it was surely going to break. Happy tears of his own pricked at his eyes. “It’s alright, my dear. I know.” He did know. Crowley had cried during that other first time, too.
“Sorry. Ugh.” Crowley grimaced, not looking at him. “We can stop if you want. I’m sure this isn’t really what- what you had in mind-”
Aziraphale stopped his mouth with another kiss. “What I want,” he said seriously, “is to make love to you, right now. I want to show you what it feels like. I want to show you how desperately I love you.”
Crowley took his face between shaking hands and drew his mouth down to his own. The kiss tasted of salt, from tears and come. “Go on then,” he whispered hoarsely.
Aziraphale shut his eyes and pushed his hips gently forward. He paused, then pulled back. “Is that alright? Does that hurt at all?” he whispered. It was a struggle to stop, it felt so good.
Crowley chuckled quietly, eyes still closed. “You could not be further from hurting me.” He wrapped his long legs around his waist and his arms around his neck, holding him as close as he could. “Angel…just take me.”
Aziraphale held him, and finally let instinct take over. His eyes were shut tight, and he panted with excitement as he moved in careful, steady thrusts. “Oh,” he gasped out. “Oh...!” It was wonderful. As wonderful as when Crowley did it to him, yet completely different. He opened his eyes, to find Crowley staring up at him with an expression of such awe that he couldn’t look away. Aziraphale gazed back with equal wonder, and oh, but he was more lovely than anything on this already marvelous planet. He laced their fingers together and deepened his strokes, making love to his demon as tenderly as he possibly could, losing all sense of time in the perfect constant rhythm.
Aziraphale paused now, catching his breath, and pressed in at a slightly new angle. The tawny eyes flew open wide, colour flooding the sclera until they were gold all the way across.
”There, love?” he asked softly.
“I-” Crowley just groaned, apparently beyond speech.
“Mmm, yes. There,” he breathed, with vast satisfaction, and thrust forward again. And again.
Crowley moaned anew with each push, golden eyes dazed and unseeing, focus turned inward.
“Yes, that’s it darling, go on.” Aziraphale watched his face intently, not wanting to miss a thing. His fingers moved in the soft russet hair, stroking the back of his head. He pressed his hips forward for a long, unhurried second before easing back. “I know how it feels,” he murmured. He pushed forward again, more firmly, and Crowley gasped and stared up at him, utterly in his sway. He kept moving his hips, breath catching with each push. “I know just what it’s like. I- mmh- know how good it is.” His voice was low, and tight with restrained passion. With a start he realized that Crowley was hard again; he could feel him digging into his stomach, and knew from experience that the dual stimulation felt incredible. He thrust into him, holding down, and they both clenched their eyes shut and moaned.
The absolute delight of making him feel this way, of knowing, intimately, what he felt…it was so intensely pleasurable that it almost made him want to crawl out of his skin.
He leaned into it and kept up a steady undulating pressure now, slightly faster, and Crowley groaned and cried out. “Nnnggh, fuck...yeah, like that, don’t stop...unhh..” His hands were clenched, one clawed against his back and one in his hair, his legs a stranglehold around his waist. "It...tingles...” He groaned again and pressed his head back into the pillows, eyes squeezed shut. “I...I...”
Aziraphale knew what he must be feeling. The great waves of pressure and warmth suddenly building inside, radiating out from deep within like nothing he’d ever felt before. The constant tingling, sharply intensifying, that sensation of approaching a great precipice at breakneck speed. So much stimulation that it was almost alarming.
“Angel, it’s…I- I'm-”
“Are you going to come for me again, love?” he whispered, voice trembling. “Is that it?” He kept gently moving, struggling to maintain self-control. He wanted to finish inside him, oh, how he wanted that, but then this would stop. He did not want to stop. He wanted to give him this first, and he could tell he was nearly there. Those gorgeous golden eyes were fixed on his face, pupils expanded impossibly wide, and as he watched hungrily they suddenly contracted to sharp slits.
“Ah...A-Aziraphale...?” was all Crowley managed to gasp out, and then it hit. His eyes rolled up. His head was thrown fully back as tension rippled through him from head to toe and his body arched; his limbs thrashed involuntarily. Whatever he had been about to say turned into one long wordless, extended groan. “Ngghhhhh...!” His nails clawed into his back; the sensation sent lightning prickles of excitement through him.
“Oh, darling,” Aziraphale breathed. He held him tightly through it all, moaning as he thrust deep over and over again. “Oh yes, that’s beautiful. Just breathe, ride it out.” Crowley’s lean, fever-warm body was stretched taut beneath him, quivering, writhing in pleasure that he was giving him. Between them was hot and sticky, and growing more so with every groan and involuntary thrust. He could feel every shift of Crowley’s muscle under the skin, every cry reverberating through him, every clench of his naked body around him squeezing tighter, tighter...the sensations swamped him, and it was too much. “Oh, f....f...fuck,” he gasped, overwhelmed, and reached down to clutch at Crowley’s hips as hard as he could, pulling himself in deeper. With that final thrust and a burst of exquisite heat they both experienced him coming inside him for the first time.
Crowley groaned louder and grabbed his buttocks, pulling him tightly into him, and for a delicious moment they were straining towards each other as if their lives depended on it. “Fffffuck, angel…fuck yes, oh, holy fuck!” He was still in the throes of his own orgasm, twitching and shaking in waves, face twisted in so much pleasure that it looked like pain.
The spasms slowly loosened their grip, and Crowley sagged back limply to the bed. Aziraphale held him as he trembled, held him just as Crowley had held him after his first time, dallying his fingers through his red hair. He murmured quiet reassurances to his demon as the tremors slowly faded, calling him darling, and lovely, and perfect. “More beautiful than the Gates of Heaven,” he whispered, and kissed him, feeling Crowley shudder in response.
“Wow,” Crowley said at last. He seemed to have got a handle on himself, and blinked up at him now with dazed eyes that were still fully gold. “Uh. Good morning. What in all the hells was that?”
“Is there more than one hell?”
“It’s just an expression, angel. What was that? That didn’t feel like, uh, like it normally does. Coming, I mean.”
“Ah.” He knew exactly what he was talking about, and felt his cheeks flush. “Well, yes. It’s different, sometimes, when you’re, er…” he groped for a more graceful way to put it, but finally just said “…inside me.” His whole face felt red-hot now, and he hid it against Crowley’s chest. “Are you alright? Did you…not like it?” he mumbled.
“Are you kidding me? I had no idea that…that’s what you’ve been getting all this time.” Crowley stared up at the ceiling, eyes wide. “Wow. Just...wow.”
Aziraphale laughed, feeling giddy. “Well, not every time,” he hedged. He beamed down at him, relieved. “I’m glad it wasn’t disappointing.”
“Pfft. Hey. It could never be disappointing with you." Crowley reached up to cup his face, stroking his cheeks with warm thumbs. His face was serious. “Literally anything would have been fantastic, but you were... spectacular. Better than I ever could have hoped.”
“So were you, my love.” Aziraphale curled up against him with a satisfied sigh and reached up to take his hand. He knew it was still an hour or so before Crowley would want to get out of bed, and for once he was inclined to agree with him. He wiggled a bit, settling back in and getting comfortable. “I admit, it was more difficult than I thought it would be. The holding off part.” He glanced up at him, cheek pressed to his chest. “You always make it look so easy.”
“Ha.” Crowley smirked, looking very smug. His eyes were slowly fading back to their normal shape and colour. “I promise, it’s not. I’ve just had a lot more opportunity to practice patience.” He kissed his hand, and his voice turned wry. “On many, many fronts.”
illustration by lonicera.caprifolium