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Well, this is unexpected.
And maybe a little embarrassing.
Crowley got up at the asscrack of dawn to help Aziraphale move into his new apartment, and yeah, maybe he was hoping he could turn it into a booty call, but he wasn’t expecting to be feeling uncomfortably stiff below the waistline before all the boxes were even through the door.
It isn’t the soft grunts every time Aziraphale lifts a piece of furniture or the way his thighs strain those totally inappropriate for the job trousers. It isn’t the way his sweat makes his shirt cling to his belly or the pink in his cheeks that brings to mind every orgasm Crowley’s ever given him. It’s not even the way Aziraphale’s sleeves are rolled up to his elbows so he can see every bulging vein in his forearms, although that definitely isn’t helping matters.
It’s the new roommate, you see.
Gabriel.
And the way Aziraphale keeps looking at him.
Not that Crowley isn’t looking too. Hard not to.
He’s big and sturdy and looks like he walked off one of those superhero movies that are so popular right now. Like he should be draped in the American flag at the center of a ticker-tape parade, flanked by can-can dancers while flashbulbs pop and hiss.
Gabe’s thighs are straining too, except his gym shorts are so short that Crowley can see every perfectly defined muscle beneath the skin every time he squats. Which is a fair bit. And always with perfect form, like he’s spent so much time in the gym that it’s just hardwired muscle memory to stick his ass out like that every goddamn time. It’s just as round as Aziraphale’s except Crowley imagines he could bounce a quarter off it.
And all Crowley can think about as he carries one single potted plant up the stairs with grunting in front of him and more grunting behind him is how much he’d like to be kitty in the middle.
“Crowley, darling, are you listening?”
He most definitely is not listening. He’s lost in his own thoughts, imagining what it would be like to be stuck between a rock and a soft place.
Aziraphale rolls his eyes at the string of unrelated consonants that stumble past Crowley’s lips even though he should know by now that he’s always distracted by his own imagination. Wandering around his thoughts without a roadmap until that posh British accent guides him back to reality.
“I said there’s twenty quid in my wallet if you want to run to the shop for some booze. We can bring up the last few boxes on our own.”
“Angel, you’ve lived in the states for nearly a year. You know it’s called a dollar.”
Eleven months, five days and six hours actually. Crowley knows because the first time he touched Aziraphale was in the bathroom at thirty-five thousand feet on a red eye from London. Aziraphale should’ve never been in coach in the first place, but he gave his seat away so a woman could sit next to her recently betrothed. He tries to say he only did it because he saw who he’d spend the long-haul flight crammed next to, but Crowley knows that deep down he’s just a romantic.
“Angel?” Gabe slides a box onto the stack he’s been building over the past ten minutes and cocks his head. “I didn’t realize you two were-”
“We’re not.”
Crowley pouts. Sure, he hasn’t managed to lock down the fussy Brit just yet, but that doesn’t mean he has to be so quick to deny it. He doesn’t see what the big deal is anyway. It’s not even that Crowley minds sharing. He just thinks he’s kind of earned a title by now and boyfriend has a nice ring to it.
He sets the plant down and snatches Aziraphale’s wallet off another stack of boxes next to the door. Slips a crisp twenty out of the leather folds and waves it at the barely dressed hunk about to move into the room across the hall from his not-quite-boyfriend.
“Gabe, be a doll and go get us a sixer?”
Bless his heart, Gabe golden-retrievers his way across the apartment like Crowley hasn’t just passed the chore onto him. When he’s close enough to grab the bill Crowley pulls it back an inch and lifts a brow. “Oh, and me and Aziraphale? We have an arrangement.”
Gabe leans back and grins. Lifts his fist and nods like a teenager in a stoner movie.
“Niiiiice.”
Crowley can’t not bump his fist. Especially when it clearly irritates Aziraphale so much. He’s sure to flash a smug grin as Gabe bounds out the door without even putting on a shirt.
“You know that means you have to help me carry the last of the boxes up.”
Crowley shrugs. “I can carry some boxes.”
“They’re books, Crowley.”
“I carry books all the time.”
Crowley does carry books all the time. When he happens to swing by the feminist bookstore down the street and eyes a title he thinks Aziraphale might like. When Aziraphale’s just gotten his nails done and Crowley insists on taking his bag so he doesn’t chip his manicure. Every time Aziraphale waves his pretty little fingers and asks Crowley to fetch one after he’s just fucked him halfway through the mattress and is sprawled out boneless and sweaty on the sheets from the exertion.
That last one has been a doozy. Has given him a bonafide Pavlovian response to the classics. He can’t even look at a Wilde without getting a chubby these days.
Crowley pauses halfway up the stairs and braces the box between his body and the railing. Pants as Aziraphale passes him. Turns out his training has been a little lackluster. A few books here or there is nothing compared to carrying the oversized boxes full of them that Aziraphale packed with his own strength in mind. And up three flights, no less.
Maybe he should have gone for the beer and let Captain America haul Aziraphale's library up the stairs after all.
“Where’d you find this guy anyway?”
Aziraphale pauses at the landing and shrugs as if the box in his hand doesn't weigh about half a million pounds. “I don’t know.”
Crowley snorts and the box wedged against his thigh slips. “You don’t know?”
Aziraphale's voice carries down the stairwell as he continues the climb. “I mean… he answered the ad. He doesn’t seem the reading type though, so why he had the Tribune, I don’t know.”
Crowley shouts after him. “I still don’t know why you put the ad in the actual newspaper.”
Golden curls poke out over the banister one floor above him. “I have standards, Crowley. I figured the people browsing the classifieds would have a certain… je nais se quois.”
“Serial killers. That’s who’s browsing the classifieds, Angel. Serial killers.”
Crowley hefts the box and takes a few wobbly steps up toward the landing. Aziraphale's curls disappear and his voice starts moving up again.
“And apparently young, tight, gym rats.”
“God he is tight, isn’t he?”
“Could bounce a quarter-”
“I was just thinking the exact same thing!”
Crowley powers up the next flight and stumbles through the door. Drops the box a foot over the threshold and doubles over.
Aziraphale sits on the arm of the sofa he and Gabriel had carried up the stairs easy as anything and watches Crowley wheeze. Lets him catch his breath before he opens his mouth again.
“You know, he just moved to the city. New to the scene.”
Crowley stretches long and cracks his back. Lifts a brow and tries his damnedest to imagine any other possible scene he might be new to other than the very gay one he and Aziraphale frequent. “The scene? The scene scene?”
Aziraphale licks his lips. He looks like a lech, but Crowley likes it. “Fresh out of the closet.”
“No!”
"S'why he moved here. Chance to forget his old life entirely."
Crowley frowns. Gabe's not the first salt of the earth Midwest boy to show up in his circle looking to start fresh, but he's certainly the first that looks like the high school quarterback. Doesn't make him feel less for the man.
"Aw, baby gay. Good for him."
"Gonna have a bit of a learning curve, I'd wager."
"Face like that? He won't have a problem."
"There're wolves out there, though, darling. And I worry they’re gonna eat him alive."
"Good thing he found himself an old dog like you to keep an eye on things, then."
Aziraphale ignores the barb. He's barely out of his twenties and only two years Crowley's senior. He looks wistfully past Crowley's shoulder toward the empty hallway behind him. “I certainly wouldn’t mind teaching the new pup some tricks myself.”
Crowley chews at his lip for a moment and then takes a leap. Says what he's been thinking all morning.
“You could. We could. We… we should do it together.”
Aziraphale stares. His brow crinkles and his lip quirks like it's trying to curl up into a smile but not quite succeeding. “Together?”
The fact that he didn't immediately scoff or laugh gives Crowley a little more confidence. “Together. Give him a proper welcome. Show him the ropes.”
Finally that signature eye roll makes its appearance. Right alongside the exasperated sigh Crowley’s become so accustomed to over the past year.
“Anthony Crowley. You get so jealous when you so much as smell another man on me.”
“I’m not jealous!”
They have an arrangement. They've always had an arrangement. Crowley's never cared that Aziraphale sought out pleasure anywhere he could. It's one of the things he likes most about him. That unapologetic hedonism has always made Crowley even crazier for him. And it certainly makes him one hell of a lay. Always perfectly tuned into how to make them both feel good. Finds itches to scratch that Crowley never knew he had.
Aziraphale lifts a questioning brow but doesn't say a word. It’s only a few seconds longer before Crowley loses the staring contest and throws his hands up.
“I’m not jealous."
Aziraphale chuckles. Mumbles to himself as much as to Crowley. “Well, you’re always sure to reclaim your territory.”
"I get off on it!”
That self-assured smug look Aziraphale’s been wearing for the duration of the conversation slides off his face.
“Pardon?"
Crowley crosses his arms over his chest and acts like he doesn’t have heart palpitations from having admitted it.
“I like it.”
“Define it.”
“That you, you know. Go…” Crowley waves his hands through the air in a completely ineffective gesture. “...fuck around and always come back to me.”
There's that adorable huff that Crowley knows so well. The cutest little purse of his lips as Aziraphale pouts. For a moment Aziraphale blushes and his eye contact wavers. When he finally speaks, his voice isn't quite so proud and sure as it has been up to this point.
“I don’t go fuck around.”
“Well, whatever you want to call it." Crowley looks at his feet and leans against the doorframe. Rubs a non-existent scuff with the toe of his shoe. "I like it. The idea of you with another man.”
“Still. That’s a little different than fucking someone together.”
“God Aziraphale, I’ve been tucking my stiffy up into my waistband all morning watching you leer at Gabe. I think I’ll survive.”
“I haven’t been leering.”
“You have too.”
“And if I were, it’s only because I’ve been watching you do the same and imagining how you'd look with his cock in your mouth.”
Aziraphale snaps his jaw closed like he’s hoping he can bite back the second half of that sentence. His eyes are the size of saucers as he drops his gaze to his own lap.
“Oh my god, what?!” Crowley sits on the box he'd only barely gotten up the stairs and rests his face in his hands. “How do we fuck so much and communicate so little?”
“And you wonder why I don’t think we should make it official.”
"Um." Crowley and Aziraphale look up at the same time to find Gabe standing in the hall holding a case of Bud Light under one arm and the last box of books from the foyer under the other.
Crowley’s spine straightens. He can feel the heat crawling up his throat.
"Gabe! Buddy! How, um… how long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough."
Aziraphale pushes off the arm of the sofa and takes a hesitant step forward. Wrings his hands in front of his belly and grimaces. "Long enough as in, you want to repack the moving truck, or…"
"Long enough to know that reading the classifieds is the best decision I've made in my whole entire life."
Crowley gapes. At Gabe. At Aziraphale. At Gabe again and the fact that he doesn’t even seem to be straining to hold the box one-armed even though Crowley knows it’s heavier than the one he just nearly died lugging up the stairs because he tried to lift it and gave up not ten minutes ago.
Aziraphale’s gaping too, but Crowley’s so overwhelmed by a potent cocktail of shock and arousal that he hardly notices.
The silence must extend for some time. The spine of a book is really beginning to make its acquaintance with the spare meat of Crowley’s ass and his foot is starting to get pins and needles like when he gets distracted by Twitter drama and sits on the toilet too long.
Gabriel is grinning ear to ear as he finally interrupts the hush that’s settled between the three of them.
“So how does this work?”
Crowley looks at Aziraphale.
Gabriel looks at Aziraphale.
Aziraphale’s lips part in what looks like offense.
“Why is everyone looking at me?!”
Crowley stands. When he woke up this morning he couldn’t have guessed that an opportunity like this might fall into his lap. He’s not about to let it slip out of his grip. Not when all three of them are so clearly interested in the same thing.
His hips are already swinging as he takes the handful of steps to where Gabriel is still standing in the hallway.
He hopes Aziraphale’s watching.
He confided once that he felt hypnotized by them that first time. That it was the whole reason he followed him to the bathroom on that flight, even after they’d spent the last four hours flirting over bad movies and tiny bottles of wine sipped out of plastic cups.
“Maybe we just…” Crowley grabs for the case of beer from under Gabe’s arm only to reel back. Gabe sure looks pretty, but he certainly doesn’t smell that way. All that sex melts out of Crowley’s stance as he takes a step back into the apartment. “Shower. Maybe we just shower first.”
“Together? Or?”
“By we, I mean you.”
Aziraphale cuts in with a gentle, coddling voice even though Gabe’s beaming white smile still hasn’t so much as twitched. “Why don’t you go clean up, darling and let Crowley and I chat.”
“Aye aye captain!”
The box of books hits the floor next to the bookshelf Gabriel carried up the stairs an hour ago and the case of beer hits the empty refrigerator shelf with a rattle. Aziraphale waits for the bathroom door to latch before he turns his gaze on Crowley.
“This is a terrible idea.”
“The bulge in the front of your pants disagrees.”
Aziraphale clasps his hands in front of his crotch as if he doesn’t absolutely ruin Crowley with the thing every other day. “Just because the idea turns me on doesn’t mean it’s not terrible.”
“It’s not like you’ll let me call you my boyfriend anyway, what’s it going to change?”
“That line of thinking is exactly why we shouldn’t do this.”
“Aw, c’mon Angel. Don’t you want to know?”
“Know what?”
Aziraphale frowns at Crowley as he saunters across the room, weaving between cardboard boxes and stray furniture. Sidestepping a paper grocery bag full of receipts Aziraphale insisted couldn’t be thrown away and dodging a rogue roll of toilet paper that’s unfurled itself across the floor. Crowley ignores it all and licks his lips. Coaxes his voice into the purr he knows drives Aziraphale crazy.
“If it’s as good as you’re imagining right now.”
Aziraphale narrows his eyes but doesn’t quite keep them from dragging up and down Crowley’s sinuous swagger.
“What his cock looks like in my throat.”
Crowley doesn’t miss the way Aziraphale swallows. The tiny shift of his hips as Crowley crowds his personal space.
His lips are almost touching Aziraphale’s now.
“Don’t you want to see me stuffed at both ends?”
Aziraphale doesn’t lean away. In fact, his hands find Crowley’s hips and pull him closer. “You’re a wretched, vile little temptress, aren’t you?”
“I notice you haven’t said no.”
Crowley puts his palm flat against Aziraphale’s chest and pushes until his heels hit the sofa. And then keeps pushing until Aziraphale loses the battle against gravity and his ass meets the cushion. He sinks down into the leather. Spreads his legs and leans back, dragging Crowley forward by the hips in the same motion.
“You’re very hard to say no to.”
The sofa groans as Crowley sinks a knee into the cushion on either side of Aziraphale’s thighs. Aziraphale makes a not dissimilar sound as Crowley gets his fingers tangled up in his curls.
“I seem to recall one very big no that you keep saying, actually.”
Aziraphale kisses him once. Twice. Looks him in the eye and smiles.
“I didn’t want to hurt you, Crowley.”
Crowley snorts. “That’s rich.” He tries to put an inch between their bellies, but Aziraphale holds him close.
“I have a lot of love to give, darling. If I’d had any inkling that you were so eager to share it…”
It’s as close to a yes as Crowley’s gotten and it makes his belly swirl. To think, all it took was one ridiculously attractive roommate and the possibility of fucking him together to get them talking for once.
“Just as long as you keep coming back to me at the end of the day.”
Aziraphale smiles. “Well… maybe in the morning…”
Crowley snarls, but it’s crooked from the grin he can’t keep at bay. “Bastard.”
“We can tap out at any time. If you change your mind.”
Crowley peels Aziraphale’s hand off his hip and drags it down to his crotch. “I don’t think it’s going to be an issue.”
“You don’t always know until you’re in the midst of things.”
“Angel…”
“Just say the word and we stop.”
“Same goes for you, ya know?”
“Yes, but I’ve done this before.”
“I thought you said you hadn’t!”
“No. I simply inquired why that was the assumption of everyone in the room.”
“You are the most difficult man that I know.”
“And yet you keep coming back too.”
“Masochist, me.”
“God, I love the city! Only ever seen something like this on the internet!”
Aziraphale and Crowley both jump.
For as big as he is, Gabe sure does walk quiet as a mouse.
The excited grin on Gabriel’s face, Crowley was expecting. His complete and total nudity, and the way the sun streaming through the window lights up his truly massive erection like he’s literally god’s gift to the gay community, he was not.
Crowley squeaks. Only regains the capacity for words when Aziraphale pushes him up off his lap.
“Wow, that’s… impressive.”
Aziraphale pats the sofa next to his thigh.
“Have a seat dear.”
Gabriel practically bounds across the room, cock bouncing with every step, and plunks down in the center of the sofa. Crowley collapses on the other side of him and doesn’t try to hide where his eyes are glued. Aziraphale, on the other hand, makes it a point to make eye contact with Gabe. Speaks to him like he isn’t hard, Gabriel isn’t naked, and they aren’t about to have a threesome within hours of meeting one another.
“This has all been rather quick. You’re sure-”
“Yep.”
“We can always take some time-”
“Now’s good.”
“Ok then. Ahem. Can I touch you-”
“Please do.”
Gabriel’s vibrating like an overexcited puppy as Aziraphale’s palm lands on his thigh. Crowley isn’t faring much better. He mirrors Aziraphale’s every move because his brain has apparently gone fishing.
A squeeze.
A tug to spread Gabe’s muscular thighs open wider.
Two hands wrapped tight around a cock that’s honestly a little intimidating.
It's a good thing Aziraphale starts to drag their hands up and down because Crowley's still not able to do much more than dart his eyes between the already utterly wrecked look on Gabriel's face and the absolutely satisfied one on Aziraphale's.
"Doing ok, darling?"
Gabe and Crowley both rasp out yes in the same breath, which only makes Aziraphale look more pleased. He reaches out thick fingers and takes Crowley's chin in hand. Drags him forward over Gabe's lap and kisses him.
Gabe stares. Watches the kiss get deep and finally blurts out, "You two are so hot."
Crowley was more than sure he'd be into this whole scenario, but he has to admit he wasn't expecting the admiration to get his cock twitching in his jeans. He braces a palm on Gabe's knee and leans into the kiss. Puts on a show and hopes Gabe likes it.
"Like… way hot."
Aziraphale grins and inches away from Crowley’s whimpering lips. He turns to Gabe and Crowley chases after him. Nips at his jaw and kisses his throat while he feels Gabe get even stiffer in his grip.
"You should see him in action."
With a wink Crowley finds himself pumping Gabriel alone, Aziraphale having abandoned his cock for the hem of Crowley's shirt. He tugs it up and the moment it's past his mouth Crowley's folding in the middle and taking Gabe onto his tongue.
There are hands in hair. Hands on the back of his neck. Hands creeping under the waistband of his jeans. And a few inches in front of his nose there's a big broad hand reaching for the big thick cock that's found its way out of the fly of Aziraphale's trousers.
It's trembling as it does, which Crowley can't help but feel a little flattered by. Especially when the other big broad hand tangled up in his hair squeezes and the hips under his face twitch up.
"Don't be over eager now, dear." Crowley glances up through heavy lids to find Aziraphale petting Gabriel's still damp hair. "You'll never last chasing after if like that. And trust me…" Aziraphale leans close to Gabe's ear, "you'll want to last."
Gabe's looking flushed all the way down to his nipples which stand up in pink peaks on his broad chest. His attention seems equally divided between the cock in his hand and the mouth on his cock.
"He might… might need to slow down then."
Aziraphale doesn't look nearly as affected as Gabe. He trails his hand down to one of those pebbled nipples and brushes his thumb in circles.
"Ask him to, then. You should always ask for what you want. Anyone worth going to bed with is going to care about what you want."
Crowley can see Gabe nodding out of the corner of his eye. Feels the fingers in his hair tighten even as his hips are still inching up, seeking out Crowley's lips and tongue.
"Crowley, buddy…. Aw hell, you're gonna make me come like that."
Crowley slides his mouth all the way off Gabe's cock. Kisses the taut, trembling expanse of his abs instead.
"Do you want me to slow down, or stop?"
"Um… I don't think I want you to stop."
"Slow it is." Crowley can do slow. Has done slow for eleven months, five days and six hours while he waits for Aziraphale. Is an absolute pro at slow.
"And by the way-" Crowley wraps his hand around Gabe's where he's gripping Aziraphale's cock and guides it up to the tip. Twists his wrist on the downstroke and grins at the jiggle in Aziraphale's belly as the muscles jump beneath their touch. "He likes it like this."
"Like this. Right. Right. Oh my God, I'm having a threesome. Best. Day. Ever."
Crowley can't help but return Gabe's grin while he lets him take over again. He's feeling much the same way, after all. And so far, it's everything he could have hoped for. It makes him impatient for the main event.
He gets his knees beneath himself and works on his own fly while he takes Gabriel between his lips again. Wiggles his jeans down to his thighs with a little help from hands he can’t confidently identify the owners of. He’s teasing himself with a featherlight stroke when he notices Gabe’s fingers in Aziraphale’s mouth.
Even if he couldn't see the look on Gabe's face, he’d know exactly the effect it’s having on him. Crowley can feel it. The way it makes him twitch against his tongue. The tension making his body even harder and more taut than it already is. And the way he slumps as Aziraphale pulls them out from between his lips with a slick pop.
Gabe’s hand slips off Aziraphale’s cock as he stands and circles the sofa, fingers skirting Crowley’s body the whole way, telling him where he is with his touch as he crosses out of view. Trails his fingertips from the crown of his head all the way down to his thighs until he can catch Crowley’s jeans and work them the rest of way off.
“With a new partner it’s best to go slow. One finger at a time. Give him time to adjust.” Aziraphale spreads Crowley’s legs. Uses a thumb to tug one cheek aside and bare him to the room. “Crowley here likes it fast though.”
Crowley bobs in Gabe's lap as his trembling fingers land on Crowley’s tailbone. Hollows his cheeks as Aziraphale’s join them. Practically swallows Gabe’s cock as Aziraphale guides them low and presses until two thick fingers breach him at the same time. Crowley shoves his hips back to take them deeper.
“See. Greedy thing. Would probably prefer to skip this part entirely, but you’re a big boy, Gabriel.”
Crowley groans. Aziraphale’s right on both counts.
“Best we show you the right way before you bring someone home on your own.”
“R-right on.”
“Oh dear… your wrist can't be comfortable at this angle." The fingers disappear and Crowley whines around a mouthful of cock. Aziraphale pats the back of his thighs and coos. "Why don’t you pop on up, Crowley? That’s a good boy. Chest on the arm of the sofa for me. Lovely,”
Crowley may as well be Aziraphale’s marionette. Is folded over with his ass in the air in two seconds flat.
“Easier to stimulate his prostate like this anyway.”
When he looks back over his shoulder, Crowley finds Aziraphale placing his hand over Gabe’s. Uses his first two fingers to guide Gabe’s back inside him and press down.
Crowley curses.
Reaches between his legs to grab his cock while Aziraphale moves Gabe’s fingers in firm circles with his own.
“Feel it? That rough bit? Feel how aroused he is?”
“Wow.”
Gabe looks genuinely surprised that he does. Gazes at Aziraphale like he's just unveiled one of the universe's greatest secrets. He does a little exploring of his own and Crowley shudders. It isn't elegant. It isn't even really good without Aziraphale's expert guidance. But something about the whole situation is getting him even more excited than he already is.
A single fingertip trails from the crease at the top of Crowley's thigh all the way down to his heel.
“We could tie his hands to his ankles and still make him come just like this. Not all men can, but Crowley and I have had a lot of practice.”
Crowley grits his teeth. Wants to take it as a command. Show off for Gabe.
He drops his cock and lets his arms hang over the arm of the sofa so his knuckles drag against the floor with every press of the fingers splitting him open. He's sure he's leaving a puddle on Aziraphale's leather as he crooks his neck and grins at Gabe while Aziraphale continues.
"You can try to do the same with your cock. Think about this spot while you're fucking him."
Gabe's eyes go big. His shoulders tense and those curious fingers go still. Crowley frowns. Straightens up and eases off Aziraphale and Gabe's fingers. Kneels next to Gabe and runs his nails down his chest.
"Unless you have… other preferences?"
He'd been expecting to be the pig in this spitroast, but he wouldn't say no to watching Aziraphale dick down Captain America.
"I've never, um…" Gabriel wiggles a finger in the air. "Personally. You know? But I don't know that I can lead things, exactly, either."
Aziraphale chuckles
"Oh, sweetheart. Topping doesn't mean leading things. Plenty of bossy bottoms out there." Aziraphale eyes Crowley and grins. "Trust me."
"M'not bossy."
"Sure you aren't, love."
"He's right though." Crowley spreads his knees across Gabe's thighs and drags a hand down his length. "Top doesn't mean in charge."
Aziraphale grabs Crowley by the hair and wrenches his head back. Kisses the side of his throat and grins against the bruise he leaves behind.
"Doesn't mean you should let anyone do a thing without permission though."
Crowley twitches against his own belly and grins right alongside Aziraphale.
"Do you want to fuck me, Gabriel?"
Gabe nods. "So bad."
Aziraphale sticks a white pump bottle in Crowley's hand that he can't quite figure out how he procured. Hell, it might've been wedged between the cushions. The damp spot on the arm isn't the first stain Crowley's left on this sofa.
He pumps a fistful and slicks Gabe's cock.
"Can I ride you?"
Gabe looks like he might be on the verge of a stroke. His fingers keep curling against Crowley's thighs and he can't seem to decide who he wants to look at.
"God, please."
It's Aziraphale that guides Crowley down.
His knuckles that press against Crowley's ass as he takes Gabe little by little.
His just like that that makes Crowley's cock throb.
Gabe's head lolls as Crowley's thighs come to rest against his own, chin dipping toward his chest.
All those fingers weren't enough, and Crowley's never been happier for it. Loves feeling pushed up against his limit. Rocks on Gabe's cock like he's already on the edge. Groans as Gabe digs his fingers into his hips and holds on tight. And then again when he catches sight of Aziraphale sprawled back against the arm of the sofa with his hand wrapped around his cock.
Gabe follows his gaze.
"What… what about Zira?"
"He'll get his turn." Crowley can't stop looking back to watch Aziraphale watch them. His cheeks are the same color they are when he's the one with Crowley in his lap. His cock is slick with precome and his belly is already heaving. When he eases his own shirt up and plucks at a nipple, Crowley can't leave him untouched a moment longer.
"Maybe sooner rather than later."
Gabe grunts as Crowley tumbles off his lap and, ultimately off his cock, but takes the hint as Crowley falls face first onto Aziraphale's cock and sticks his hips in the air. Scrambles up onto his knees and presses in with one heavy shove of his hips that betrays his rather virginal attitude thus far.
Aziraphale's lips part and his abs squeeze as he buries his fingers in Crowley's hair. Stares down at Crowley like he's a piece of fine art.
"You're even prettier like this than in my fantasies."
Gabe thrusts again and it pushes Crowley further onto Aziraphale's cock. Makes him slip into his throat, just where he likes him. The gasp it forces out of Aziraphale's mouth makes Crowley's toes curl. And it must make other parts of him squeeze too because Gabe lets out a moan that would give most porn stars a run for their money.
Aziraphale nudges Gabe with his foot. Grabs him by the wrist and tugs.
"Harder, darling. Take what you need."
Crowley's eyes roll up in his head. He knew he'd enjoy getting double stuffed, but he wasn't anticipating how much he'd like Aziraphale running the show. How good it would feel to be treated like a plaything. An instrument for teaching Gabe about his own pleasure.
"Normally." Aziraphale's voice comes out breathless and it only makes Crowley work his cock faster. Messier. He can feel the saliva running down his chin and onto his throat. "I'd advocate for making sure your bottom comes first. It's the polite thing to do. But in this case, I'm rather looking forward to your sloppy seconds. So Anthony here can wait until you're done with him."
Crowley whimpers. He knows Aziraphale's speaking as much to him as he is to Gabe. And fuck it's hot to be delayed the orgasm already coiling up in his belly. He rests his forehead against the soft pad of Aziraphale's belly and lets him thrust shallowly into his mouth. Buries his fingers in the meat of Aziraphale's thighs so he won't touch himself. Wraps his toes around Gabe's cut-from-marble calves so he can feel them tense with every desperate thrust.
"He's so… you're so…" Gabe's hips shake every time they slap against Crowley ass. His fingers will surely leave bruises on Crowley's hips he's holding them so tightly. His voice comes out what must be a full octave higher than normal as he squeaks, "hot."
Aziraphale's voice, on the other hand, only seems to get deeper. "Are you going to come for us, Gabriel?"
Crowley never hears a response, but a moment later he can feel Gabriel pulsing inside him. Filling him up to bursting with hot, heavy spurts as he pistons his hips through the throes of his orgasm.
Aziraphale must be enjoying it nearly as much as Crowley is because he wrenches Crowley's mouth off his cock by a fistful of hair. Drops his head back and whispers what sounds like scripture toward the ceiling.
It's almost enough to send him over the edge. He trembles as Aziraphale runs his fingertips over the place his scalp stings.
"Crowley, love. Don't move an inch. Stay just like that. Don't spill a drop."
Aziraphale's as gentle as he ever is sliding out from under Crowley's chest. Scratches the nape of his neck and runs his thumbs down the muscle on either side of his spine. Steps out of his pants and peels off his shirt at last while Crowley clings to the sofa and clenches around Gabe's still throbbing cock.
Aziraphale's palm lands on Gabe's belly where it's shuddering and heaving against Crowley's ass. The other lands on his jaw and turns his face to look him in the eye.
"Was that good for you, dear?"
"Better than I could have imagined."
Aziraphale smiles. A gentle press with the heel of his hand and Gabe eases his hips backward. Crowley does his damnedest to do what Aziraphale's asked but as Gabe slips away and the sofa shifts, he feels a sticky trail running down the back of his thigh.
"I believe I said not a drop." Crowley's breath catches as the sofa sinks again and Aziraphale's cock meets the trickle. He drags it all the way back up and presses in all at once.
The wet squelch when he does is absolutely filthy.
Aziraphale drags back out slowly, clucking his tongue.
"I suppose you always were a tight little thing, weren't you? And here I was wondering how many of my boys from the club you'd be able to take. I imagine just the two of us and you'll be spilling everywhere."
Crowley doesn't know how exactly they ended up here from where they were half an hour ago, but every lewd word that makes its way out of Aziraphale's mouth pushes him closer and closer to the edge.
"Gabriel, why don't you give Crowley a hand?"
"Oh! Sure."
The fingers that wrap around Crowley's cock are rough. Over eager. Too fast and too tight and exactly what Crowley needs. Between that, the wet sound of Aziraphale thrusting into Gabe's spend and the thought of bending over and letting Aziraphale run a train on him, it hardly takes any time at all for Crowley to come. He can feel his orgasm in every inch of his body, from the tips of his toes to the ends of his hair.
And Aziraphale was right.
The moment he comes too, Crowley can feel it spilling out around his cock and making a right mess of his backside. It makes every earth-shattering aftershock that much better.
And just when Crowley’s sure he’s about to pass out he watches over his shoulder as Aziraphale guides Gabe back onto the sofa. He looks equal parts excited and confused as he disappears from view.
"Now clean him up nice and good and I bet he'll let you have him again later."
Crowley gasps as a tongue tickles up one asscheek. Squeezes his eyes closed as it drags across his hole, catching on the rim and flicking up. Crowley's not sure he won't come again the way Gabe's working him.
Refractory period? His cock has suddenly never heard the term.
"Oh my fucking god. You're sure you’ve never- Christ almighty- never done this before?"
Gabe laughs and Crowley can practically hear the blush in it.
"Was always popular with the girls."
"Fuck, you'll be popular with the boys, too."
"Oh, I'd hazard a guess he’s going to make all the boys very happy. Cock like that and eager to please?"
"Ok, I can't… I can't anymore." Crowley wiggle-worms out of Gabe's grip and collapses onto his belly. Only lifts his head to snuggle the plush thigh that squeezes beneath him.
"This, Gabe, is the most important part, so take note." Aziraphale runs his palms over Crowley's shoulders. Lets them meet at his spine and squeezes.
“A cuddle?” A heavy cheek presses against Crowley's ass and an arm snakes up his side to hold him.
“Crowley likes a cuddle. A chapter of a book. Something to decompress after taking such good care us. But everyone has their own preferences.” Aziraphale uses a single finger to tilt Crowley’s chin up far enough to meet his gaze. “It might be different with your boyfriend.”