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“You have a nice night as well, Officer,” Aziraphale said, before giving a small wave and closing the cottage door. Crowley watched him turn around. “That was certainly an interesting explanation to give.” The angel smiled politely.
“I’m really sorry, Angel,” Crowley said. He felt bad, making Aziraphale explain to a human police officer that no, Crowley was not abusive, he was just a very passionate gardener, and the neighbors were very kind to have checked, but they needn’t have worried. He felt worse that he still did it. Aziraphale had helped him find so many better coping mechanisms. His therapist was helping him find even more. He knew he didn’t need to verbally abuse plants to cope with the trauma of the fall.
But he did it anyway, loudly enough that the couple next door had wanted to make sure Aziraphale was safe in the house. It was just embarrassing.
“If I’d been thinking, I would have soundproofed the garden.”
“It really is quite alright, Crowley,” Aziraphale promised, “Now I believe I was midway through ‘kicking your butt’ at scrabble?”
“It was just so stupid to not soundproof the garden first,” Crowley thought out loud. Aziraphale frowned at him. “If I had been less irresponsible, you wouldn’t have had to do all of that.”
“Crowley…” Aziraphale tried to warn him.
“I’m just such an idiot!” Crowley descended into the spiral of his own mind. “And I can’t get over screaming my bloody head off at a bunch of leaves! How fucking pathetic is that? I put our home at risk! What if the humans had found out and -? You’d be better off without me.”
“Now Crowley!” Aziraphale scolded, “We’ve discussed how I feel about you speaking about the love of my life in such a manner. And we’ve discussed the consequences.”
Crowley remembered those discussions. And the vivid detail with which Aziraphale had described said consequences. “I didn’t mean any of that,” he tried to step back from his spiral, to deny it, but Aziraphale knew him better than that.
“I think you did, dearest,” Aziraphale said softly. “I think this was one of those moments where you went back to what hell taught you. Am I correct?”
Something about that voice made Crowley sink into Aziraphale, resting his head on the angel’s shoulder. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“And you suggested what we would do the next time this happened.”
“Consequences,” Crowley said, resigned.
“Just a little reminder,” Aziraphale corrected him, “to be kind to yourself. Pop up to the bedroom, will you? I’ll be along in a moment.”
Crowley did as he was told. Sometimes, when they were doing a scene, he took Aziraphale’s ‘pop up’ quite literally, and was undressed and in position mere moments after he uttered the phrase. Today, he walked up the stairs, taking each step slowly. This was just what Aziraphale wanted: for Crowley to take his time and think about exactly why they were doing this.
They were doing this because Crowley had asked Aziraphale to do this, to promise him that next time, there would be consequences. And they were doing this because Crowley had earned those consequences. Aziraphale had even tried to ground him, saying his name in that calm, steady voice that so often brought him back to earth, but Crowley had pushed right past it, into his current situation.
When he entered the bedroom, he noticed the miracle. The simple wooden chair that sat in the corner was usually piled with Aziraphale’s sweaters or Crowley’s pajamas. It was cleared off and in the near center of the room. Most days, the sight would have Crowley tingling with giddy anticipation. Today, it made him nervous.
They hadn’t done this before, so Crowley wasn’t sure exactly how Aziraphale would like to start.. He settled on kneeling in front of the chair, fully clothed, holding his wrists behind his back.
Aziraphale took his time coming upstairs. Crowley used the time to quite calmly panic.
“Hello dearest,” Aziraphale purred when he finally entered the room.
“Ngk,” Crowley gulped. Aziraphale sat down in the chair. Crowley immediately thought of other ways this scene could play out, given the way his mouth was perfectly lined up with delicious angel cock.
“Remind both of us why you’re here,” Aziraphale instructed.
“I was being a total dick and yelling at the plants and-” Aziraphale cut him off.
“Try again.”
“I was talking shit about -”
Aziraphale put his hands on Crowley’s shoulders. “Look at me, love, why are we here?”
“The last time I did all the self-deprecation stuff, I asked if you could make me regret it next time.”
“And what did I say?”
“That it wasn’t going to be a punishment.”
“Just a gentle correction.” Aziraphale smiled.
“I’m sure you’ll be plenty gentle,” Crowley scoffed.
“None of that now.” Aziraphale took off his waistcoat. Crowley wondered why he hadn’t done that downstairs in the five minutes he’d kept him waiting, but quickly realized this probably wasn’t the time. He watched as his Angel took off his bowtie and undid the top button of his shirt. Then he unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. No matter how many times he got to see so much more, Crowley gasped at the sight of Aziraphale’s bare forearms. That was why Aziraphale hadn’t done it downstairs.
“Do you want me to strip?” Crowley asked, feeling awkward on his knees.
“No, love. But I would like you to stand up for me.” Crowley did as instructed. “Now, don’t get any ideas about trying to rush me through this. Only speak when I ask you a question.” Aziraphale pulled Crowley’s cardigan from his shoulders, revealing the button up shirt underneath. “This fabric is so soft, darling. Did you make this one, or did you find it?”
“Miracled it this morning.”
“It’s nearly as comfortable as you are!” Aziraphale beamed, then began unbuttoning buttons. He placed a featherlight kiss on Crowley’s collarbone the moment it was exposed. “Your skin is so soft and so beautiful.”
Crowley squirmed under the compliments as Aziraphale worked his way down the buttons.
“So warm for me,”
“You’re doing so well, staying so still,”
“I love touching you so much,”
“You’re ever so beautiful,”
“I love you more than anything.” Crowley nearly cried when the shirt was off, just to be done enduring the torture of compliments left unqualified and unreciprocated.
At least Aziraphale made his pants a less tedious affair. Probably so this doesn’t get me all worked up. If that was the case, it wasn’t working.
“So gorgeous,” Aziraphale said, looking Crowley in the eyes. “Color?”
“G- green,” Crowley stammered.
“You’re here for a correction, so that’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to review your statements, then I’m going to correct them. Then we’ll do a little activity to practice. Yes?” Aziraphale sounded like a disappointed schoolteacher looking at a below average maths quiz.
“Yeah,” Crowley breathed, thinking only of the dull thuds and sharp stings that were awaiting him during said correction.
“What’s your safeword?”
“Bandstand,” Crowley said.
“Very good,” Aziraphale cooed. He sat down in the chair and patted his lap. This made Crowley realize that he hadn’t taken a breath since Aziraphale had started undressing him. He took on, then bent over the angel’s lap. As soon as he was in position, Aziraphale began rubbing circles across Crowley’s arse.
“I’m sorry I ruined Scrabble”
“Silly ideas like that are exactly what got you over my knee tonight,” Aziraphale said, turning his rubbing into something more deliberate. “Tell me one of the things you said about yourself this evening.”
“You were there,” Crowley snarked, trying desperately to hold onto any thread of control.
Aziraphale squeezed. Hard.
“Shit, Angel! I called myself an idiot.”
*SMACK* Aziraphale’s hand made its first contact with his right arse cheek, causing Crowley to gasp and hiss.
“Aziraphale!” he whined, “That hurts!”
“You’re ever so clever darling,” Aziraphale said, ignoring his complaint. “You’re always thinking so much, and everything you say is so brilliant. Now tell me another.”
“I said I was stupid.”
*SMACK*
“Again, Crowley, you are so wonderfully intelligent. You will never let me run out of the most wonderful conversations to have. Another.”
Crowley knew he didn’t have time to brush off the compliments, or Aziraphale would truly make him regret it. He kept going. “Said I was irresponsible.”
*SMACK* *SMACK*
Crowley hissed with the pain, if only to put off what was coming. Aziraphale wouldn’t start the true torment until Crowley could hear it properly.
“You take care of everything, Crowley!” Aziraphale exclaimed. “The garden,”
*SMACK*
“the house,”
*SMACK*
“All of humanity! Remember those two times you saved the world?”
“Actually we - ” Crowley interjected.
*SMACK* Aziraphale cut him off with a particularly solid impact.
“I do believe I’m the one correcting you, darling. And you take care of me so perfectly.”
*SMACK*
“Another. And don’t forget all of those nasty things you said in your head where you thought I wouldn’t know. I could see it in your eyes.”
“Pathetic.”
*SMACK*
“Crowley, you are so strong. You’re strong willed, and strong when I need a shoulder to cry on, and so powerful you can move supernovas!”
“Useless.”
*SMACK*
“You are capable of so many things, dearest. Anything you want to be. Maybe not driving the speed limit, but even then, if you put your beautiful mind to it!”
Crowley couldn’t dwell on the little smile he heard in Aziraphale’s voice. If he let the momentum slow, the call of subspace might be too difficult to resist, and he so wanted to have the mental capacity to follow Aziraphale’s instructions. “Unworthy.”
*SMACK*
“Now Crowley, that’s just silly. You’re too good for the highest of the heavens.”
“Dangerous.”
Aziraphale paused for a moment. “Did you really believe that?”
“In the moment, yeah,” Crowley said, refusing to give in to the temptation to wriggle around in an attempt to see Aziraphale’s eyes.
“You’re my protector.”
*SMACK*
“My hero.”
*SMACK*
“My knight in shining armor!”
*SMACK*
“You are the safest thing in the world unless you really make the effort not to be! Another.”
“I said I ruined scrabble night.”
*SMACK*
“And you know I would never play again if it meant you wouldn’t think these terrible things. Another.”
“A burden.”
*SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK* *SMACK*
Each blow perfectly overlapped with those that came before, making sure that every inch of Crowley’s arse was subjected to the same ‘corrective treatment.’ The precision, combined with the raw strength of a Principality, was nearly overwhelming. And then Aziraphale resumed his verbal assault.
“Don’t you dare talk about my Crowley that way,” Aziraphale practically growled. “He is the best part of my day. You are the best part of every day of my existence.”
“I said that you-” Crowley realized he was crying. He briefly recalled the time he wondered aloud if he could come from just the Crop and Aziraphale had indulged him. His inner thighs had been purple for the better part of a week. He hadn’t cried then. Aziraphale realized it too, and his voice transformed from stern to soft in an instant.
“Color?”
“Very fucking green, Angel,” Crowley said, his voice laden with tears.
“Very good. What were you saying?”
“That you would be better off without me.”
“You,”
*SMACK*
“are,”
*SMACK*
“the”
*SMACK*
“best,”
*SMACK*
“thing,”
*SMACK*
“to,”
*SMACK*
“ever,”
*SMACK*
“happen,”
*SMACK*
“to,”
*SMACK*
“me!”
*SMACK*
“Crowley you are my stars and moon, my sun in the sky and you are my planet earth. I would let the world burn before I let anything happen to you because I love you more than anything! You helped me learn. Do you remember Job? You taught me how to be good. Truly good. I wouldn’t be without you.”
Crowley was sobbing. “Love you, Angel,”
“I love you so much, Crowley,” Aziraphale said. He started rubbing gentle circles into Crowley’s arse, which was certainly a quite vivid red. “Do you want me to heal this?”
He didn’t need to ask, the answer was always the same, but Crowley nearly drowned in appreciation for the fact he did, every single time. “No. Wanna feel it.”
“Of course, dear. Now are you ready for the challenging part?”
“That wasn’t the challenging part? The fuck, Angel?” Crowley thought.
“Challenging part?” he asked.
“Now that I’ve demonstrated the expectation, you need to try it on your own.”
Crowley gulped. He flashed back to their negotiation a few weeks ago.
“So we have the hand spanking, but that’s reasonably routine,” Aziraphale noted.
Crowley smiled. The angel wasn’t wrong; Crowley found no shortage of ways to end up over his lover’s knee. “Are you thinking we do something more?”
“Would you like to? I know that it’s going to be an emotionally intense hand spanking.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Well we’re not really trying to address me complimenting you. What if I came up with something so you had to say all the lovely things about yourself?”
Crowley recognized that voice. Aziraphale had a plan. “You already have an idea, don’t you?”
“Oh I do! We could-”
“Could you surprise me?” Crowley cut him off, startling both of them a little.
“Not talk it through in advance?”
“We’re talking through that it’s a surprise,” Crowley assured. “When we do it, you can explain it and do a color check, and I’ll take my time to think about it, and give you a color. And if it’s yellow, we can pause and modify the plan.”
“Do you think you can be honest like that? You won’t feel pressured to keep going?”
“I can always be honest with you, Angel,” Crowley smiled. “I want it to be a surprise.”
Crowley was regretting every decision he had ever made as Aziraphale lifted him off of his lap, turned him over so he was facing the ceiling, and gently laid him on the bed. “Sit up now, Darling, we need to discuss what’s going to happen next.”
Crowley briefly considered staying right where he was. Aziraphale would cuddle with him and they’d go to bed. Or go back to playing Scrabble. Crowley would lose and Aziraphale would look so bloody pleased with himself that Crowley considered eating him. Either way, Crowley didn’t have to subject himself to whatever emotional nightmare Aziraphale had planned to help him practice positive self talk.
He sat up. Aziraphale sat on the bed beside him and offered him a blanket to spread over his bare legs. Crowley accepted it, more for the angel’s sake than his own. Aziraphale wouldn’t be thinking straight if he was fully clothed and Crowley was so bare and vulnerable.
“I already told you that I would like you to practice saying kind things about yourself, not just hearing them. Do you remember when we played that delightful little game?”
“We play a lot of ‘delightful little games,’ Angel,” Crowley grinned, simultaneously reliving every one.
“The time I only fucked you when you were talking,” Aziraphale clarified.
Crowley grinned impossibly wider. It had been an unreasonable request: he needed to form coherent sentences if he wanted Aziraphale to fuck him properly, but the second he got what he wanted, the words were replaced with a series of incomprehensible noises, and the Angel returned to giving him slow, shallow thrusts. Less than nothing. It had taken nearly an hour for Crowley to come.
“I liked that game,” he promised Aziraphale.
“I’m not sure you’ll care for my modification tonight. In this version, I’ll only fuck you when you’re talking about yourself.”
“About… myself?” Crowley processed aloud.
“And you won’t be done until you’ve come, just like before.”
“I don’t-” Crowley stammered, “I don’t know if I can .”
“I know you can, Darling,” Aziraphale sounded entirely confident. “But only if you want to. Remember, you promised me you would take your time before you gave me a color.”
Crowley had promised, and he was glad for it. As sure as Aziraphale sounded, he didn’t know if he’d be able to keep talking for long enough to come, and if he didn’t… Aziraphale would give him just enough to drive him mad for hours upon hours. For this, the hedonistic angel would would abandon any thought of his own pleasure, and he would be so fucking nonchalant about it. “Oh, Crowley,” the demon could just hear him saying after over an hour of slow torture, “ Is there something that you want? You seem uncomfortable.”
But the idea of it working… the idea of it working was delicious. Crowley imagined himself getting into the swing of it (somehow) and Aziraphale realizing that he wasn’t going to have to slow down again and beginning to chase his release. He wouldn’t just respond to Crowley’s body, he’d keen and moan with every word. Maybe he’d do that wonderful thing he did when he was listening to one of his favorite symphonies and close his eyes, just to feel more immersed in the sound.
There were risks, of course, but when had Crowley, the serpent of goddamn Eden, been afraid to take risks?
“I want to try,” Crowley said.
“You know that once we begin, it only ends when you come?”
“Yes, Angel,” Crowley promised.
“Very good. Now. Lie down on the bed, let’s get you prepared.”
Aziraphale made him wait while he undressed the human way. Crowley squirmed with anticipation. Then the angel snapped his fingers. Crowley expected to feel the sudden, intense stretch that accompanied a miraculous preparation, but there was nothing. Just the glimmer of slick around one of Aziraphale’s fingers.
“We’re doing this the old fashioned way, darling,” Aziraphale explained, then knelt on the bed in between Crowley’s legs.
The demon melted into the first touch, as gentle as it was. Aziraphale circled his entrance with as little pressure as possible. Teasing. The bastard. It was alright, Crowley thought. Any second, Aziraphale would push through the knot of muscles.
But he didn’t. Minutes passed with Crowley shuddering at whispers of the Angel’s finger. He tried to slide onto the finger, to get even a fraction of the pressure he wanted. Needed. But Aziraphale took his hands away entirely at the smallest movement. Crowley groaned.
“If this is what I’m doing to you now, I do believe you may need to be restrained for the next step, dear boy,”
“I’ll be good, Angel!” Crowley couldn’t imagine giving up even more control. “I can be patient.”
“I know you can, love,” Aziraphale said, “I don’t know if you will.”
“I’ll be patient,” Crowley breathed, and Aziraphale resumed the ghosts of touches.
Crowley didn’t know how long it lasted. It was probably only minutes, but it felt like hours. He would have believed it if it was days.
“Very nice, love,” Aziraphale said when Crowley’s breathing finally steadied and he lay still while careful fingers circled his entrance. “Now that you’ve calmed yourself, we can move forward. I don’t want you too close when we begin our little game.”
That was enough for Crowley to undo all of the calming, just in time for Aziraphale to finally push a single finger inside of him.
“Angel!” Crowley bucked into the sensation. He was desperate for even a single finger after what he had just endured.
“What did I say about this behavior?” Aziraphale tutted.
“You’d tie me up?”
“This is your last warning, you fiend.” Aziraphale held his finger in place. Crowley had to resist the urge to fuck himself on it. Or scream. Or discorporate. It all sounded about the same.
He knew what Aziraphale was doing. He wouldn’t move until Crowley reigned in his heart rate and steadied his breath. Then he’d make Crowley calm himself again before adding another finger. Then again before he moved those. Then again before a third finger. Again before his cock.
Somewhere deep in the demon’s mind, he noted that they wouldn’t finish their game of scrabble tonight.
Maybe he should just miracle his lungs and heart away. He didn’t need them, and then he wouldn’t have a Satan forsaken heart beat to calm down. Aziraphale probably wouldn’t approve.
He took a deep breath. Then another. It wasn’t working. Aziraphale was inside of him. Even after all these years, he wasn’t used to that. And Aziraphale was looking at him like he could swallow him whole at a moment’s notice. That wasn’t helping. Another deep breath.
He began to count. Aziraphale held perfectly still for one minute. Two. Five. Then,
“Very, very good, Crowley!” The demon had been right. Aziraphale sounded completely unbothered by the pace. Crowley thought he might die. Not just discorporate. Really, properly die. Two things could kill a demon: holy water and an angel spending five minutes with his finger up said demon’s arse without moving.
“Aziraphale, please!” Crowley didn’t know what he was begging for. He knew the angel wouldn’t go faster, wouldn’t give him more. Maybe he just needed to beg.
“Since you’ve been so good,” Aziraphale smirked. Then he started pumping into Crowley with the single digit. Slowly. Agonizingly slowly. Not enough. Nowhere near enough. But still, Crowley writhed under his ministrations. He started counting again.
He was faster this time. A little over three minutes before he was calm enough for Aziraphale to announce that it was time for more, and then. Then. He pulled out.
“No!” Crowley said before he could stop himself.
“Silly demon,” Aziraphale said. “I was just going to add a little more lubricant so I could give you another finger. But since you decided that this was a time to question my decisions, I’ll let you have what you want.” He slid the single finger back into Crowley.
And Crowley discorporated on the spot.
He didn’t, but that was what it felt like, the promise of a fraction more, ripped away by his own foolishness. It took him the better part of ten minutes to calm down again.
He kept quiet when Aziraphale pulled away again. He watched with ravenous eyes as Aziraphale miracled his fingers to glide more smoothly. There was a time when he would have been unwilling to admit to the squeak he emitted when Aziraphale pushed two fingers as deep as he could. Now, Crowley would admit to anything. He’d do anything just so he could admit to it if Aziraphale would give him more. Just two fingers made him feel so full and needy and-
He remembered that Aziraphale was not going to move. Aziraphale was not going to move until Crowley was still and quiet, until his cock had given up on true pleasure from the situation.
Another ten minutes.
Aziraphale resumed the excruciating pace.
Fifteen minutes.
All the while, the angel was unbothered, only allowing his expression to change when Crowley squirmed. Even then, it wasn’t an expression of distress, of wanting, of need. It was a warning. Don’t push me, Crowley. I will give you exactly what you’re supposed to have, and you will take it.
Was there a demonic equivalent of smiting someone? Crowley considered it. He also considered giving into the urge to let himself melt.
“I think you’re ready for me, darling,” Aziraphale announced after spending nearly half an hour adding a third finger and slowly stretching Crowley with it. “Color?”
“Green, but Jesus fuck, Angel.”
“I think we may have to file this part of the experience away for our future engagements.”
Crowley could only moan. In distress. In need. In pleasure.
Aziraphale had the nerve to chuckle. “We’re going to have so much fun tonight. Or, at least, I will.” He spread fresh slick over the length of his effort. “Do you remember your instructions?”
“Say nice things about myself.”
“And if you stop talking?”
“You st-stop everything.”
“Exactly, dearest,” Aziraphale confirmed, then lined himself up. “You may begin.”
Crowley sighed. He hadn’t been particularly confident before, but now he was laying in bed, propped up on a pillow, having forgotten every word in the English language. “Umm,” he started, “my hair is soft.”
“It really is, darling,” Aziraphale said, and finally, finally pushed his cock into Crowley, just a fraction of an inch.
“ Shit, feels amazing, Angel,” Crowley said, causing Aziraphale to stop in his tracks.
“This isn’t about me, Crowley,” he said. His voice was so fucking even. Crowley wondered if the angel was even aware that his cock was in his arse.
“I’m so tight and warm and,” Crowley tried for sexy, but felt himself fumble spectacularly. “Aziraphale this is so awkward!”
“You’re just out of practice!” Aziraphale chirped. “Listen. My cock was built to fill you up. I’m going to ruin you, darling.”
Crowley shuddered. “Fuck yeah you are.”
“See? Not awkward.”
Crowley let out a noise that was somewhere between an exasperated sigh and a moan. “Fuck! Fine! Aziraphale I’m so fucking ready for you. I got through that hell you came up with, and I can make you feel so good.”
Aziraphale thrust slowly further inside.
“I have such clever hands, Aziraphale,” Crowley could talk about sex. He had been tempting the angel to bed (albeit without much resistance) for years. He could promise the world. “And a quick tongue. The things I can do to you, angel. I can talk you apart and put you back together again.”
He thought he had it. He could do this. But Aziraphale was still moving so slowly, even as he spoke. Because this isn’t supposed to be dirty talk, he realized, it’s supposed to be about everything.
“And I’m clever.” Aziraphale nearly pulled all the way out, only to bury himself as deep inside Crowley as he could. It was the most effective movement of the night. Crowley looked him in the eyes. There it was, behind Aziraphale’s perfectly crafted front of calm: need.
“I’m clever and quick, that’s why I have all the best ideas.”
Another deep thrust.
“And I’m funny. At least, funny enough. I’m not for everyone, I know, it’s just-” Aziraphale slowed again. “I think I’m funny. And I make you laugh, angel. Aah! Angel!” Crowley had done something right, because Aziraphale finally found the button deep inside him and, ever so gently, pressed it.
“I- I’m good at,” Crowley breathed out. After what felt like days without enough, the pressure was overwhelming. He pushed himself to focus before Aziraphale took it away. “I’m good at making plans. Not just for saving the world. We have the best date nights because of me.”
It was agony, saying it out loud. It was the kind of pain he genuinely didn’t know if he could bear. Until Aziraphale moaned.
“All because of you, dearest.” The angel’s eyes were locked onto his, a storm swirling in the usually calm circles of blue. And he sank home again, harder.
“Angel, I’m creative!” Crowley keened. “I imagine - shit - I imagine shit! And I make things!” He closed his eyes for a moment so he could stop seeing Aziraphale and instead see galaxies and nebulas. All the things he was proudest of.
“I make beautiful things.”
“ Crowley!” Aziraphale’s voice bordered on a howl, and Crowley was beginning to lose the capacity for thought.
“I- I-” he stammered. Aziraphale slowed, no longer reaching that precious spot. Crowley nearly cried, but he was grateful for the chance to gather his thoughts. He used the torment to make a plan. He was good at making plans.
“My eyes aren’t like other eyes.” He had been right. Aziraphale loved his eyes, and putting the focus there could only be rewarding. “They’re special.” This was met with a quick, shallow thrust. “They’re gold and beautiful and mine.” Three more, each reaching deeper within him.
“You like my eyes. You love my eyes, Angel,” Crowley said, “And my hair! I take such good care of it so it’s always so soft.” He almost said ‘for you,’ but that wasn’t true. Crowley’s hair had been perfect long before he could imagine Aziraphale touching it. Why not? he thought. He said it out loud.
“It’s not for you. I do it because I like it.”
Slap! Skin met skin as Aziraphale filled Crowley over and over again, hitting home each time.
So close, Crowley thought, just a little harder and…
“You love me! Aziraphale you love me because I’m worthy of your love!”
Aziraphale arched his back as he thrust again and again. “And why is that?” There was no nonchalance left in his voice.
“Because I’m - fuck!” Aziraphale’s hands had found purchase on Crowley’s hips and his thumbs were pressing bruises into the delicate skin there. “Because I’m me!”
An angelic hand wrapped around Crowley’s neglected cock, and Aziraphale began pumping in time with deep, rhythmic thrusts.
“You love me, Aziraphale, and I’m so- so good at loving you!”
“Crowley I’m going to come!”
That surprised him. Aziraphale never lost control in their scenes. But now. He was coming apart at the seams.
“I’m perfect for you, Angel,” Crowley watched as Aziraphale’s whole body shook. “When you said - aah angel, right there! -said ‘to the world,’ you meant to me.”
Crowley could feel Aziraphale pulse inside him as orgasm overtook him. “Yes. I. Did!” He punctuated each word with a thrust and a squeeze. Then he captured Crowley’s lips in a searing kiss.
That was enough to send the demon plummeting over the edge. It was everything. His angel, in him, on him, around him. With his last shred of cognitive ability, he decided to truly ruin Aziraphale.
“I fucking deserve this.”
Aziraphale nearly collapsed at that, sending Crowley to another plane. He was floating, his pleasure secondary to seeing the angel so enraptured.
He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, Aziraphale inside him, looking into each other’s eyes. It could have been days. It was probably just a few minutes. It could have been eons and Crowley still would have whined at the loss when Aziraphale pulled out to lie down next to him.
“Come here, darling,” he beckoned for Crowley to close the inches of distance between them.
“Can’t,” Crowley said. He rested his eyes. The world was feeling a bit much all of the sudden. “I don’t have bones.”
“Would you like to cuddle?”
“Desperately. But I-”
“Don’t have any bones, yes.” Aziraphale seemed to consider that for a second, then made a decision.
Crowley felt angelic arms shimmy under him, then lift him up. He allowed Aziraphale to position him, so he could use his chest as a pillow.
“‘S nice,” Crowley murmured.
“I absolutely agree. But I do believe we could both use a debrief after all of that?”
“I won’t fall asleep,” Crowley promised. “Just need a minute.”
“Take all the time you need, love.”
“You’re alright? I could get up now if you want.”
“I’m quite alright. But some of that was new, and we do have to talk about the new things if we want this to keep being this enjoyable for both of us.”
“Yeah. We do.” Crowley nuzzled into Aziraphale’s downy chest hair. He was still floating. He knew they couldn’t debrief while he was floating like this. He was also vaguely aware of the part of him that wanted to scream and run. It hadn’t wanted to talk about any of this, at first, but Aziraphale had made it clear: they would negotiate everything before they started and debrief after every scene. Aftercare was required for both of them, and Crowley wasn’t to allow him to get away with neglecting his own just because he was ‘in charge,’ so to speak.
When he had first said that, Crowley thought about saying no to all of it. Now, he was looking forward to talking. The part of him was quieter, less demanding. He could ignore it and talk to the love of his life.
With a clear head, Crowley rolled off of Aziraphale and sat up. “I didn’t believe you when we planned this.”
“You didn’t?”
“That it wouldn’t be a punishment. Saying all that wasn’t exactly what I consider ‘fun.’”
“But you enjoyed it?”
“It was incredible. What about you? That wasn’t how it usually goes for you.”
“I’ll admit I underestimated my reaction to you being so wonderfully accurate about yourself,” Aziraphale said, smiling. “You may have noticed what it did to me.”
“I noticed, alright! I’m not going to be able to fuckin’ walk.”
“You can barely walk as is in those trousers!”
“Shut up!” Crowley said, but he was smiling.
“Would you like to bring anything back in our future scenes?”
“All of it.” Crowley refused to be embarrassed by how quickly he said it. “Even the set up, doing it right after I self deprecate might actually do something.”
“I’d quite enjoy that. I never know what to do when I see you begin to spiral.”
“Do you want me to do the compliments more?”
“What do you mean?”
“Say we have a quickie before dinner one day, and I say ‘I’m so good at loving you’ again right when you’re on the edge.”
Aziraphale drew in a sharp breath.
“So, yes?”
“Yes!” Aziraphale beamed. “All the time. Every time. Oh, Crowley, all I want is for you to really understand why I love you so much.”
“And you felt okay being surprised by your reactions tonight?”
“It was quite a lovely surprise.”
“Better than beating me at Scrabble?”
“So much better, my dear.”
“Good.” Crowley looked him in the eyes. “Because I’m not finishing that game. Or getting out of bed. I’m going to sleep for about two days, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Would you mind not bothering with the pajamas?”
“Are you going to stay?”
“I rather think I will.”
Crowley’s mind raced for a moment. Aziraphale didn’t like sleep. Aziraphale didn’t need to waste his time lying in bed with him.
I fucking deserve this.
“That would be really nice, Angel.”
Aziraphale moved so his head rested on the pillows, then gently pulled Crowley down so his head was resting on his chest. There was no better place to fall asleep.