First part of a story I'm writing. I've stopped it here right now, but am definitely still writing. It's my first fix I've ever posted anywhere. Not the first I've written, but I've never been confident enough to post anything more then a couple of drabbles/ thoughts/ musings.
Please be gentle and I hope you enjoy.
Crowley knew his greatest success would always be the evening he successfully tempted Aziraphale into eating that very first ox rib. If he’d known then the absolute hedonist slumbering inside the angel just waiting to be released…Well, it’s probably best not to think of that right now.
Not when said hedonistic angel is sat next to him at their usual table at the Ritz, the most indecent sounds falling from his lips as Aziraphale savored every bite of his raspberry lemon crepes. Crowley’s eyes haven’t left those plump pink lips since Aziraphale took his first bite.
How does he do this to himself day after day without launching himself over the table and taking those lips for his own, Satan only knew.
It takes all of Crowley’s considerable control over his demonic instincts when Aziraphale’s pink tongue slips out to catch a drop of cream escaping the corner of his lips. To not lean forward and lick the stray droplet away with this tip of his own tongue, sampling the cream and Aziraphale’s skin at the same time.
He feels his eyes as his slitted pupils dilate behind his dark lenses, the yellow eclipsing the white. He worked to keep his face as expressionless as possible. The angel mustn't notice anything amiss with Crowley, else he pesters him about what’s wrong until Crowley has no choice but to push Aziraphale up against the nearest flat surface and show him exactly what held his demonic fascination.
“Crowley?” Crowley jerked to attention at the feel of Aziraphale’s hand atop his own resting on the table between them, concern clear in his angel’s face as Crowley pulled himself out of his absolutely unholy thoughts concerning said angel.
Oh, right. Aziraphale was speaking.
“Sorry, angel, can you repeat that?”
“My dear, what has gotten into you?” Heaven’s–Satan’s–Somebody’s sake! That breathy, yet deep voice will be his end. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said!”
“Ngk–I have! I swear I have,” Crowley insisted, not having a clue what his angel had been saying, lost as he’d been in watching the ethereal being enjoy his meal.
Aziraphale simply gave him a Look–eyebrows raised, lips pursed slightly.
“...Fine,” Crowley sighed. “But-!” Crowley held up a finger, shaking it at his angel. “I was distracted! You…you distracted me, with-with your noises and ngk…” Crowley stopped speaking as he felt the heat gathering at the back of his neck.
He glared at Aziraphale.
“Shut up!” Crowley tried to sound fierce but knew he just sounded flustered.
Aziraphale giggled.
Bastard angel, Crowley thinks fondly, leaving a substantial tip for their waiter before guiding Aziraphale out of the restaurant with a hand hovering–but not quite touching–the small of his back.
They strolled through the streets back to the book shop side by side, neither one in a hurry to get anywhere.
Crowley thought Aziraphale had dropped the matter of Crowley’s earlier distraction as he’d always done in the past.
Crowley really should have known better.
He really, really should have known better.
Aziraphale, bookseller, Principality of the Eastern gate, is a right bastard, after all.
****
Hours had passed–peaceful hours. Crowley dozed on the old leather couch while Aziraphale drank cocoa and read…whatever it was he was reading.
Crowley thought he must have still been sleeping–dreaming even–when he felt a light touch stroke through his hair. He didn’t open his eyes, not wanting to dispel the pleasant dream.
Without thinking, he turned his head and kissed the inner wrist of the hand that was still stroking his hair ever so lightly.
Crowley froze as his lips connected to the warm skin. He felt the hand in his hair pause, as well. Crowley expected his angel to pull back and break whatever spell had fallen over them.
But Aziraphale didn’t remove his hand. With his lips still pressed to Aziraphale’s inner wrist, Crowley felt his angel’s completely unnecessary pulse begin to race.
“Crowley,” Aziraphale said, his soft, melodic voice a question.
Crowley finally opened his eyes. Aziraphale was kneeling on the floor next to the couch, the hand that had been in Crowley’s hair now resting against his neck. Aziraphale’s gorgeous blue eyes met Crowley’s own yellow ones.
“Ah. Good,” Aziraphale smiled brightly. “You’re awake.”
Crowley’s response was more a string of consonants than actual words. He had no idea what was happening, but he’d be damned–or saved, whatever–before stopping his angel.
He watched as Aziraphale sat back on his heels, palms resting on thick, delicious looking thighs clad in vintage brown tweed. Crowley has fantasized about all the things one could do with those thighs like that quite a bit more than he’d care to admit.
He dragged his eyes away from the way Aziraphale’s pants clung to his thighs in that position and back up to his angel’s face.
To see his bastard angel…smirking at him!
“Did you have a good nap, my dear?” Aziraphale teased him.
Crowley, still distracted by his decidedly lustful thoughts about the man-shaped being in front of him, replied, “Mmm, yeah…could’ve been better, though.”
“Oh?” Aziraphale questioned, teasing lilt still in that breathy tone Crowley loves.
Crowley didn’t even think before he said, “Yeah. Would’ve been better if you were lying here with me.”
His eyes widened when he realized what he’d said, mind already trying to find words to smooth over what his words before Aziraphale could pull away.
But his angel didn’t pull away.
Instead, Crowley watched as Aziraphale slowly closed the distance between them, leaning forward until his mouth was but a breath from Crowley’s.
Aziraphale’s hand moved from his neck to his face, thumb stroking Crowley’s cheekbone.
His angel’s grey-blue eyes were luminous this close and Crowley was lost in their depths as Aziraphale studied his own yellow eyes momentarily.
Crowley’s eyes were drawn from Aziraphale’s gaze as his angel’s tongue darted out to quickly wet his lips before speaking.
“Crowley…would you care to retire upstairs with me?”
Crowley felt the words against his lips as Aziraphale spoke.
Crowley nodded, not trusting himself to speak at that moment.
Aziraphale’s smile was brighter than the sun.
His thumb stroked slowly over Crowley’s lips, catching and dragging lightly on his bottom one. Crowley’s breath hitched and his eyes slid closed.
“Oh Crowley…” Aziraphale exhaled roughly. “May I…?”
“Yes, angel…please,” Crowley didn’t even know what he was agreeing to, but it didn’t matter. This was Aziraphale. There was nothing he would deny his angel. But he had a feeling, whatever it was, Crowley would enjoy it very much.
Crowley nearly discorporated at the touch of Aziraphale’s lips against his. Six thousand years on Earth and this was how it was going to end…at the lips of the most beautiful angel to ever exist. The only being he’s ever wanted, ever…loved.
It was several seconds of Aziraphale’s lips pressed to his before Crowley could figure out how to make his corporation move. He brought a hand up and tangled it in the soft, platinum strands at the back of his angel’s head.
Crowley couldn’t stop the whimper that slipped from him as Aziraphale’s tongue licked along the seam of Crowley’s lips. He happily deepened the kiss, his tongue twining with Aziraphale’s.
Satan only knew how long they spent like that, tongues learning each other’s mouths, hands gripping faces.
Eventually, Aziraphale tore his lips from Crowley’s, sitting back on his heels once again. Their breathing was quite ragged for two beings who didn’t actually need to breathe, Crowley thought.
Aziraphale spoke first.
“My dearest…as much as I’m enjoying this–and I am!” Aziraphale’s eyes darkened as he gazed at Crowley’s kiss-swollen red lips. “I rather believe my bed would be much better suited to our activities.”
Crowley couldn’t suppress the patches of scales that broke out over his skin as he shivered in pleasure.
“Oh, Crowley…You’re gorgeous, darling,” Aziraphale said in awe, reaching out to trace the scales that had appeared over Crowley’s exposed collarbones.
“Nnggkk–Aziraphale-Angel-Fuuuuuuuuuck,” Crowley groaned. He could do this. He could form enough words to get this moving.
“That…yes…bed…angel…please!” Crowley gasped as Aziraphale’s tongue traced the path across his scales that his fingers had just taken. Crowley’s back arched and his head hit the arm of the couch as his angel began sucking a deep purple bruise into Crowley’s pulse point.
Crowley couldn’t believe this was actually, truly, happening. He’s wanted this for…six thousand years and eons before that. Heaven help him but he’s imagined this angel’s lips doing the most wicked things to him.
But nothing in Hell, Heaven, or Creation itself could have prepared him for the reality of it.
Aziraphale’s lips were so fucking soft as they skimmed the surpsingly sensitive skin of his throat.
“Angel, angel, angel–love, shit–” Crowley cried out when Aziraphale bit down on Crowley’s neck. Crowley couldn’t stop the feeling that raced through his body and exploded out of him at feeling his angel’s teeth sinking into his neck.
Not enough to break skin, but the surge of pain went straight to Crowley’s cock, leaving him quivering in aftershocks as his release spread through the front of his tight denim trousers.
Aziraphale sank back on his heels, looking entirely too pleased with himself as Crowley’s brain struggled to reboot. He’d just come in his trousers like a bloody human teenager and it was the single best orgasm of his life.
Forgive him if he couldn’t form a proper sentence.
His angel's lips twitched into a small smile.
Smug bastard, Crowley thought.
He turned his face toward Aziraphale, not even trying to hide his blissed out smile.
“There you are, my darling demon,” Aziraphale said, voice impossibly soft and fond, much like the smiles they were sharing.
“Didn’t you mention a bed, angel?” Crowley asked huskily. His eyes went involuntarily to Aziraphale’s meaty thighs, catching on his angel’s massive erection straining his brown trousers. He licked his lips.
“Yes, I rather did, didn’t I,” Aziraphale hummed thoughtfully. He slapped his thighs, startling Crowley whose eyes hadn’t left the angel’s Effort.
Crowley watched Aziraphale stand and hold out a hand to help Crowley to his feet. With effort, Crowley made his arm reach up and grasp Aziraphale’s hand with his own. He felt the tingle of a miracle through his body as their hands touched and Crowley felt the mess in his trousers disappear.
He has such a thoughtful angel, Crowley thought, grateful to be free of the cooling stickiness.
Crowley let himself be pulled to his feet and immediately into Aziraphale’s arms. Crowley would deny the giggle that escaped him for the rest of eternity.
Crowley wanted to bask in Aziraphale’s responding deep chuckle, much like he does in his snake form when there's a toasty sun spot in the bookshop.
Crowley couldn’t resist chasing the sound with his mouth, Aziraphale kissing him back passionately. Crowley wrapped his arms around his angel’s neck, Aziraphale's hands gripping Crowley’s hips tightly.
Crowley had a sudden thought and tore his mouth away from Aziraphale’s.
“Just how many people have you kissed, angel? You’re very good at this,” Crowley asked breathlessly. He didn’t want to know, but he had to know.
Aziraphale smirked, brows twitching upward with the motion.
“I do read, you know, Crowley,” Aziraphale said smugly.
“What kind of books are you reading, angel?” Crowley’s voice dropped an octave with the question, a twisted smile on his own face.
Crowley wondered what else Aziraphale has read about over the centuries.
Oh, yes. He bets his hedonistic angel would also be a kinky bastard given the opportunity. And Crowley plans to give Aziraphale every opportunity.
Aziraphale’s smile turned downright sinful as he looked into Crowley’s eyes.
“Let’s go upstairs and find out, shall we,” Aziraphale breathed into Crowley’s ear before taking his earlobe between his lips and nipping it with his teeth. Lightly.
But a shiver raced through Crowley anyway.
“Yes-yep-yeah-ngk…let’s do that,” Crowley eventually makes the sounds coming out of him into words.
Aziraphale chuckled again and oh…oh Satan…that’s the sound of an aroused, very pleased angel and Crowley wants to hear that sound in his ear for the rest of his immortal life.
“...Satan’s sake, Aziraphale! I wanna drop to my knees and worship you,” Crowley couldn’t stop his moan when Aziraphale’s nose skimmed down the side of neck before the bastard angel nipped lightly at the purple bruise he’d sucked into Crowley’s throat only moments ago.
“Next time, my dear,” Aziraphale practically purred in Crowley’s ear as his angel effortlessly turned Crowley until Aziraphale’s front was pressed to Crowley’s back.
The angel gripped Crowley’s hips in his large hands again and pressed his impressive Effort against Crowley’s admittedly pert arse. Crowley’s head fell back on Aziraphale’s shoulder at the feeling. Crowley took the opportunity to bring an arm up, threading his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair and arching back into him.
He began a slow assault with his own lips against Aziraphale’s neck. He felt his angel’s hips buck into his as his angel let out a truly obscene moan. The sound was deep and Crowley felt it reverberate through him as he sucked his own mark into Aziraphale’s neck.
He felt the angel’s hands tighten on hips, the bruising grip sending bolts of pleasure through Crowley.
“Crowley,” Aziraphale murmured, ”I mean to have you in my bed.”
Aziraphale turned his head and kissed Crowley swiftly before breaking away once again.
“If you don’t behave, my fiendishly beautiful demon, we will never make it upstairs…where I plan to devour you.” Aziraphale arched a brow at Crowley.
Oh Satan help him; Crowley whimpered. He couldn’t stop it. His angel, speaking this way…wanting Crowley like this…he doesn’t know how much more he can take.
“I’ll be good, angel,” Crowley gasped in Aziraphale’s ear. “I’ll be so good. Want you to take me apart. Please, Aziraphale,” Crowley was begging and didn’t even care. He’d gladly get on his knees and prostrate himself before his angel.
Not a bad idea, actually, Crowley thought.
Aziraphale’s happy smile was dazzling. “You are, my dearest. You are.” Aziraphale’s hand came up to stroke Crowley’s face where it still rested against Aziraphale’s shoulder.
“Now: Let’s go upstairs so I may show you what I have spent centuries reading about and fantasizing about doing…to you, my darling.”
Aziraphale truly is an angel because he ignores the tears cascading down Crowley’s face as Aziraphale turns Crowley in his arms, kissing him gently, chastely, on the lips. They wore matching smiles as they pulled back from the kiss.
Crowley rubs his thumb across Aziraphale’s knuckles as his angel grips him by the hand. Crowley happily lets himself be led up the spiral metal staircase.
