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It was a quiet evening.
Lulled by the soft crinkling as Aziraphale flipped through his book and the gentle, slow caresses in his hair, Crowley might have even said he was in Heaven if he didn’t already know what that was like.
No, this was far, far better.
“You know what I’ve been thinking?” Crowley asked out of the blue, his voice barely above a whisper in an effort to not break the peace they had carved around them.
As soon as the words were spoken, his heart began thumping erratically in his chest. Even after all they had been through, Crowley was hesitant to make requests, especially when they were of a more… intimate variety. He had been assured, in more ways than one, that his thoughts and feelings were just as valid as Aziraphale’s. But there was something to be told about old habits and their stubborn refusal to die. No matter how useless they turned out to be in the end.
It took a few seconds for the response to come, focused as Aziraphale was on his novel. “Mm, what is it, darling?”
Even after so many months of hearing the endearment daily, Crowley’s lips still quivered into a smile each time.
“What would you say about… taking more… control?”
The hand in his hair stilled for a moment, before resuming its placating caresses in a slower and more intentional manner.
“Of what?”
Even though his eyes remained firmly closed, Crowley could hear the mild curiosity in Aziraphale’s voice—the way his tone itched ever-so higher in his effort to remain nonchalant.
Crowley squirmed a bit, suddenly tense all over. “Of— of me, angel.”
“I thought the whole point of… you was that you get to be your own boss.”
His skin burned, growing hotter with every passing second they spent without discussing what the issue really was. “Yeah— no, that’s not… I’m not referring to taking control of my life…”
“Then I’m afraid I’m quite lost, dear boy,” Aziraphale said; patient, but voice laced with slight amusement.
“For fuck’s sake, angel,” Crowley groaned, bringing both hands up to rub his face. “I mean take more control in the bedroom.”
Once again, there was silence for a few moments before Aziraphale spoke. “Are you… dissatisfied?”
“What?! No! No, no, no.” Crowley jumped up, then swivelled to finally look at the angel. His blue eyes were wide, mouth down-turned with the very prominent hints of a frown. “No, sweetheart, nothing like that. What we have been doing has been… amazing, wonderful. Mind-blowing.”
Already, Aziraphale’s expression relaxed, the wrinkle between his eyebrows eased. “Then what’s the problem?”
“No problems, angel, trust me,” Crowley said, taking both of the other’s hands in his. “It’s just something I would like to try, that’s all. We don’t have to, if you’re not up to it.”
Nodding, Aziraphale focused his attention on their interlocked hands, on the way Crowley’s thumb traced soothing circles on the back of his palm.
“So, you mean… order you around, that sort of thing?”
Blushing more furiously than ever, Crowley tried to remind himself he was the one bringing this up in the first place. “Nn— yeah. Among— other things, yeah, basically that. Again, no need to do anything you don’t want—”
“I don’t see why we can’t try,” Aziraphale interrupted, watching him between his eyelashes. “If it’s something you really want. I will need to look into it, of course. Do some research, learn all about it.”
“Of course.” Crowley smiled, bringing his angel’s plump hand up to his lips. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
As it turned out, the “research” took a little over a week. Of course, Crowley didn’t expect them to dive straight into BDSM, but he was a little confused when Aziraphale didn’t mention anything more about the issue. Not even when they had sex.
Until one evening.
“Crowley, can you come in here?” Aziraphale’s voice travelled all the way from the office downstairs to the bedroom upstairs.
Crowley stood up with a groan, dragging his feet down the hall and the swirling staircase. He had just nodded off, but he knew his angel didn’t like to shout.
“What’s up?”
Aziraphale barely looked at him. Glasses perched up low on his nose, he gestured to the sofa with a mere flick of his wrist1. “Sit down, please.”
Raising his brows, the demon did as instructed, then threw both arms on the back of the cushions.
“Sounds serious. Am I in trouble?” he tried to joke, but the crease between Aziraphale’s brows made his skin prickle.
“Not at all, darling,” the angel attempted to reassure him, his voice a tiny bit warmer than before. The various pages on his desk still held all of his attention, though. “I just wanted us to have a little talk.”
“That is not helpful,” Crowley groaned, his shoulders tensing. “What is going on?”
At last, Aziraphale turned to him. Hands folded neatly in front of his belly, he inhaled thoughtfully. “I think it’s important that we discuss the parameters of our foray into sexual domination.”
“Hhhngk don’t… call it that.”
Aziraphale’s eyes widened, jaw falling open ever-so slightly. He turned to his papers, flipping through the lists he had obviously combined just for this particular issue. “I’m sorry, what would you prefer? Power based romantic play? Intimate authority exploration? Are any of those to your liking?”
“I— ngk— it’s just…” A forced inhale, followed by a slow—if unsteady—exhale. “Sexual domination makes me sound like some country you want to overtake through fucking. Dom/sub dynamics is fine.”
“As you wish.” Aziraphale grabbed his fountain pen and wrote something down.
He really was adorable. He had done so much research, taken so many notes, just to help Crowley fulfil a fantasy. Barely able to bite back his smile, he watched as Aziraphale unearthed a pack of pages, then attached them to the clipboard.
“Thank you for the clarification, my love,” he said, not with the tone of a loving partner but that of a customer service worker. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a list here of what I understand to be called ‘kink negotiation’ aspects.”
Had Crowley been drinking anything, he would have splattered it all over Aziraphale’s precious books. Be that as it may, he only stared at the angel, mouth producing no sounds that could be even vaguely considered words.
Aziraphale, completely unaware—or uncaring—of Crowley’s stupor, turned back to his desk, pushing his tiny spectacles further up his nose. “First things first. What is your opinion on gagging?”
“My opinion is that you’re doing a damn good job of it,” the demon muttered, willing his complexion to go back to its suave pale colour.
That drew Aziraphale’s attention, eyes squinting below his furrowed brows. “But I am not using any gags right now. And you are completely capable of using your mouth, even talking.”
“I— that’s not—” If the situation had been any less bemusing, Crowley might have laughed. “Can we maybe start with… lighter subjects?
Frowning, Aziraphale regarded his notes again. “I suppose we could discuss… aftercare preferences?”
“Love that.”
“What?”
“Aftercare. Big fan, me.”
“What kind?”
“All of it.”
Aziraphale sighed. “Verbal affirmation? Physical touch? Quiet space? Snacks? Water, tea? Emotional check-in? Sleep?”
“Yes.”
“To which one?”
“To all of them, angel.” Taking a deep breath, Crowley leaned forward so he could rest his elbows on his knees. “I want the verbal affirmation along with physical touch, then I want you to have some snacks cause you’ll definitely have worked up some appetite, then emotional check-in, followed by some quiet until we fall asleep.”
Blinking slowly, Aziraphale nodded. “Right…”
Crowley smirked, leaning back. “You didn’t expect me to be so forward, did you?”
“No, it’s just… I appreciate your candour,” the angel said earnestly, then turned back to his notes. “Now,” he continued, “I think I know the answer to this but we don’t have anything to lose by discussing it in detail.”
The already frantic beat of Crowley’s heart picked up as his nails dug into the soft cushions. “What is it?”
“Praise and pet names.”
Crowley couldn’t tell if it had been on purpose—though he had his suspicions—, but Aziraphale’s voice dropped by at least an octave. Thick and luscious like warm honey, it washed over him, licking goosebumps across his body. This was ridiculous. Aziraphale hadn’t even said anything, and it wasn’t as if he was going to praise him, it was just—
“Well, there are the obvious choices we know already,” the angel continued with the same frustratingly arousing but impartial tone he had been using all evening. “Good boy, my love, my darling, and other associated pet names.”
A little more of that and Crowley’s nose would catch on fire with how warm and forceful his breaths came out. There was only so much demonic strength the soft, worn-out fabric of the cushions could handle until his nails pierced it through. Aziraphale would never let him hear the end of it.
The bastard angel raised an eyebrow. “Are you alright?”
“Yeup,” Crowley croaked, forcing his grip to relax.
Fighting a smirk, Aziraphale continued. “Anything else that would be to your preference you would like me to add on the list? Or would you like me to improvise?”
In all honesty, Crowley didn’t know which was worse. Or, well, best, really. He trusted Aziraphale blindly to find his buttons and use them with care, but he couldn’t be sure whether that would lead to his instant discorporation, were the angel to find something particularly… effective.
“You can… improvise,” he said hesitantly. “Jus’— don’t overdo it. At least not in the beginning.”
“Of course.” Aziraphale smiled, softly, in the way that soothed all Crowley’s worries. Then he wrote something down before moving on. “Now. I know you said you didn’t want to discuss gags yet, but should we talk about bondage? I understand there is a big variety and I would like us to find what works for you.”
They went on like that, for what seemed like hours on end. Aziraphale had really done his research. The questionnaire alone was seven pages long—front and back—and from what Crowley could see, the font was as tiny as it could go while still being readable.
It gave him a sense of safety he hadn’t expected. Part of him worried Aziraphale would take one look into what domination entails and then fret over how to tell Crowley that he had changed his mind and he didn’t want to do this after all. He would absolutely not hold it against him of course, he was prepared to comfort Aziraphale in case he felt like he was letting him down.
But the beautiful, unbelievable angel had spent so much time gathering all the information he could, and then asking for Crowley’s input. He was taking notes, he was asking for clarification and—above all—kept checking in with Crowley to make sure he was doing okay.
It was… comforting. Like a warm blanket and a steaming mug of tea at the end of a long day.
Wow. He really was hanging out with Aziraphale a lot. He grinned.
“Right, finally: is there anything you would like to add?”
Crowley flipped through the pieces of papers in his hands—a copy of the questionnaire, flyers about BDSM and a list of erotic book suggestions. He had published half of those.
“Uhhh, no. I think this pretty much covers it.”
“Wonderful!” Aziraphale patted his thighs gently, wiggling in his seat. “Are you ready then?”
A few slow blinks, but the angel’s enthusiasm didn’t stutter. His smile was still achingly sweet and patient, focused entirely set on the demon.
“Ready for what?” Crowley asked.
“To begin, of course!”
“Wh— now?!” The demon’s grip tightened around the pack.
“No time like the present!” Aziraphale wiggled again. Honestly, he seemed way too excited for this. “Unless you are busy?”
“No— not busy— quite… unbusy, me.”
“Then up you get.” He offered his hand, fingers dancing enticingly in front of Crowley’s increasingly reddening face.
Sighing, Crowley wrapped his hand around the angel’s and let him lead him to the bedroom.
It’s not that he had changed his mind, or that he was worried. But he was still so new to this whole ‘ask and you shall receive’ concept, he still had trouble asking and accepting the receiving.
Aziraphale, sensing his hesitation, paused once he closed the bedroom door behind them.
“Crowley?”
He was still holding his hand, his thumb tracing soothing patterns on the back of it.
“Mmm?”
“Are you alright, my dear?”
A long sigh escaped Crowley’s lips, his shoulders sagging. “I’m fine, ‘m fine, it’s just… this is very new.”
Aziraphale smiled. “I know. We can take it as slow as you like. We don’t even have to start now if you don’t feel ready.”
“No, no, I want this.” For a second he worried he might hurt the angel’s knuckles with his fierce grip. “It’s just… I’m too in my head, I think.”
A warm chuckle rumbled in Aziraphale’s chest. “Let’s see what we can do about that, then, hm?”
Crowley nodded, and the other leaned in, ever-so carefully, tugging at his hand to pull him closer. Soft lips enveloped his own, a low hum rumbling when they met, warm and maddening. Crowley’s head tilted to the side, deepening the kiss, at the faintest graze of Aziraphale’s fingers on his jaw. His other hand tangled in red curls, nails grazing his scalp.
“You can touch me, darling,” Aziraphale murmured against his lips, the corner of his mouth rising in a smirk. “We’ve only just begun.”
Huffing a laugh, Crowley’s trembling hands rose to plush hips. This was fine. This was just them, having sex, like they had done so many times before. He knew Aziraphale, and—most importantly—Aziraphale knew him. The coarse fabric of his tweed trousers was grounding as he splayed his fingers on it, the familiar softness eagerly giving under his grip.
“Very good.” Aziraphale’s voice was barely more than a whisper, though Crowley could feel the soft thunder buzzing in his chest. “Relax.”
Easier said than done.
Letting his lips be coaxed open by Aziraphale’s tongue, he focused on his breathing. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Truth be told, he was already feeling better. His hands travelled higher, finding the angel’s spine and pulling him closer. Aziraphale hummed against his lips as he stumbled forward, his thigh barely brushing against Crowley’s crotch. The moan that stuttered out of his lips caught him so off guard, he pulled away and rested his forehead on Aziraphale’s shoulder, breathing heavily.
“My, eager, are we?” Aziraphale said right into his ear, leaving a peck on his lobe.
The full body shudder that followed was completely out of Crowley’s control, coursing through him like lightning. “I— I hadn’t even realised…”
Even as the angel chuckled, he pulled him closer, brushing a few curls away from his neck. “All our negotiation has got you… riled up, hasn’t it?”
“You don’t have to sound so amused,” Crowley grumbled as he raised his head, though the burn on his face must have been furious.
“Au contraire! I am pleased, my darling.”
This had no business raising bumps all over his body, but he assumed that must have been Aziraphale’s intention, anyway.
The kiss that followed was deeper, dragging whines from Crowley’s throat, each one answered with soft hums. Every time their lips met, it pulled Crowley further away from himself, floating in the deep haze of Aziraphale. His hands moved lower, cupping the angel’s arse and pulling him closer with a squeeze, this time intentionally grinding against his plump thigh for a few glorious moments.
“Ah-ah-ah.” Aziraphale pulled away, hands firm around Crowley’s pelvis. There was the barest warning tightening of his fingers that shot sparks up the demon’s spine. “Not yet. You’ll be patient for me, won’t you?”
Crowley closed his eyes, trying to control his shaky breaths.
“Won’t you?” Aziraphale repeated, his voice lower as his hold tightened.
Immediately, amber eyes shot open. “I will, I will.”
“Good boy.” Taking a step back, Aziraphale’s eyes roamed over the demon’s body, dark and wide, then settled on his face. “Take off your clothes. Slowly.”
Jaw dropping for a moment, Crowley simply stared. Aziraphale had moved out of reach, his hands neatly folded behind his back, watching him, waiting for him to obey. This was really happening. He had asked for the angel to dominate him and he was doing it. With a deep breath, his hands jumped to his chest, fumbling to undo his buttons. A frustrated groan tore from his throat when he nearly ripped one in his haste.
“Slowly, I said, dear,” Aziraphale reminded, voice soft if, a little firm. “We have all the time in the world. And keep your eyes on me, please.”
He hadn’t even realised his gaze dropped to his clothes. Raising his head, he focused on the angel, skin burning at the approving tilt of his mouth. Eventually, his black shirt came off, falling into a ball by his feet. His chest puffed with pride when Aziraphale’s gaze dropped lower, tracing his entire torso with glinting eyes.
“That’s it, you’re doing so well,” he said at last, once he returned his attention on the demon’s face. “The trousers, now.”
Part of Crowley—a very quiet part, hidden under layers and layers of arousal—worried that the buzzing in his ears was going to stick, as it only grew louder with every word of praise. He was quite literally prepared to live with it.
One by one, the buttons of his trousers popped open. Crowley didn’t miss the hitch in Aziraphale’s breath as his eyes, dark from arousal, eagerly followed the movement. With a sigh of relief, he pushed the fabric down, freeing his cock.
Aziraphale’s lip twitched as he appraised the demon. Goosebumps seemed to rise at the unhurried sweep of the angel’s eyes over Crowley’s naked body, and he had to fight against a shiver.
“You are a marvel,” Aziraphale whispered, and then he was back within reach, as if the distance physically hurt him.
As soon as Crowley’s trembling hands wrapped around him though, he was stopped with a strong grip around his wrists.
“Not yet, darling.” Aziraphale’s gaze dropped down as a thumb brushed over the knuckles reverently. “Keep your hands to yourself until I tell you, okay?”
Crowley nodded, and his arms were once again free to swing by his sides. Just as he was about to take a deep breath, the soft pad of Aziraphale’s finger swept over his clavicle. Bumps and valleys, pulsing veins, lingering goosebumps, they were all traced; slowly, as if creating a map of Crowley’s body. Memorising him. The exploration moved downward. He circled his nipples without quite touching them, then trailed the quivering ribs. A warm palm cupped his hip as Aziraphale walked around him, holding him firmly as the fabric of his pressed shirt brushed Crowley’s back, soaking up some beads of sweat.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he murmured right against the shell of Crowley’s ear, while his fingers barely itched towards his pulsing cock. “You are going to get on the bed, on your hands and knees, and use those clever fingers of yours to open yourself up. You’re going to be slow and methodical. I want you to give me a show. Understood?”
Crowley threw his head back with a deep inhale, resting it against Aziraphale’s shoulder. Wild drums beating in his ears, he was incapable of refusing even if he wanted to. “Y--Yes. Yeah, okay.”
With a soft, pleased hum and a chaste brush of lips over his temple, the angel retracted himself from his back and settled against the plush pillows, one eyebrow slightly raised. Barely taking one moment to collect himself, Crowley followed. The bed creaked under both their weight as Aziraphale shifted upwards to make space for him. Crowley turned away from him, one knee slipping over the angel’s lap before he crawled forward on all fours. His back arched, presenting himself, while Aziraphale reclined to watch. Coarse hairs scratched his palms, grounding him, as his hands roamed over his own legs.
He had always known that Aziraphale enjoyed watching him, even when he didn’t participate, and Crowley had always had a flair for performing for him. Hell, one of his favourite memories was pleasuring himself while Aziraphale pretended to read his book, even though they both knew it had been over an hour since he had last flipped a page. Having him ask for it, though… Not just ask—demand… It sent a whole new spark of arousal through the demon.
Spreading his legs a little further, he only ran his hands over his body for a few moments before leaning forward on one hand and reaching back with the other. Aziraphale, ever the attentive partner, handed him a bottle of lube, already uncapped.
A choked breath fluttered his throat at the first breach of his finger, his back arching at the familiar stretch. It had been a while since they had done this, and even longer since he had done it to himself, but the thrill was still the same, if not amplified with Aziraphale’s dark gaze tracking his every movement. He took his time, lazily pumping his finger in and out, before he pushed another one in and a choked whimper escaped him.
“Let me hear you, dearest,” came Aziraphale’s instant request, voice hoarse. “You are doing so well, let me hear how much you’re enjoying this.”
The words themselves drew a whine from Crowley’s throat, and his head fell forward, drooping between his shoulders as his fingers crooked ever-so slightly.
“That’s it,” Aziraphale cooed, soft air fanning his sweaty spine. He had moved closer.
Crowley barely stopped moving his fingers. His thighs were slightly shaking from exertion, beads of sweat pooling into the dimples of his back, yet he pushed another finger in, pulling another wrecked cry from himself, deep and trembling, that was echoed right back from the angel. His cock throbbed with every fleeting brush against Aziraphale’s shin, sending bolts of pleasure through him.
A soft brush on his right butt cheek made him flinch, and he moved to snatch his hand away.
“No, no, don’t stop,” Aziraphale murmured, now squeezing in earnest as his other hand held Crowley’s in place. “You’re so perfect, I can barely keep my eyes off you. In fact…”
The barest flick of a wrist in the air, and a mirror materialised at the foot of the bed. Crowley blinked at it, the image before his eyes a little foreign even if he knew, deep down, that it was just him and Aziraphale. His cheeks were flushed, a faint sheen on his temples where a few darkened curls drew abstract patterns. His chest, just as red and sweaty, bounced relentlessly with every shuddering inhale. Behind him, Aziraphale had sat up, his face inches away from Crowley’s hand and hole, his manicured nails digging into his hip deep enough to bruise.
“Look at you,” Aziraphale whispered reverently, “so undone, and I’ve barely even touched you… My gorgeous demon.” He smiled at the clench around his own fingers, the quiver of Crowley’s weak muscles. “Do continue, dear boy. Don’t mind me.”
Nearly letting out a scoff at the mere implication that he was supposed to ignore the careful sweep of the other’s eyes, or his thumb tracing the fold where his butt met his thigh, Crowley resumed his movements. Pushing himself up to reach deeper, he let out a ragged groan as his pace picked up, every jolt of pleasure amplified by the sting of Aziraphale’s nails.
The angel kept showering him with praise, and the occasional kiss dropped to the root of his spine, each of his dimples, then along the curve of his arse. Just as Crowley thought he would pull away, he kept going, lapping closer and closer to his fingers, undeterred by the stuttering movements. With a gentle tug at his wrist, he moved Crowley’s hand out of the way, his tongue instantly taking its place.
Crowley nearly yelped as he fell forward to his elbows, his head dropping low between them. Sloppy, wet kisses dragged all sorts of sounds out of him, and then Aziraphale was pushing in, and suddenly he was the one unable to control his lewd moans. Now panting, Crowley closed his eyes, lost in the sensations as tingles climbed up his spine, curled around the tight muscles of his legs. A sudden grip in his hair made his head snap up, his eyes falling back to their reflection. One hand lost in red curls, the other painting bruises on his hip; Aziraphale licked into the demon, dark eyes set on his face through the mirror. He was demanding that Crowley looked back.
His head was thrumming, his entire body was on fire, yet Crowley was unable to tear his gaze away, even as his vision blurred. Tingling fingers were fisting the silk sheets as he fruitlessly tried rocking his hips closer to the angel’s legs underneath him, desperate for some stimulation to his neglected cock that darkened the angel’s leg hair. Aziraphale, like the bastard that he was, wrapped his arm around Crowley’s pelvis, effectively rendering him immovable, captive to the attention of his tongue.
“Fuck— h-holy shhhhit— angel,” Crowley was nearly growling, heavy lidded eyes tearing up with every nudge inside him.
The entire room spun around him and he floated in the middle, grounded only by Aziraphale’s sweaty fingers digging into his hips, his tongue deep inside him—claiming him. It was nearly too much. Dark spots danced before his eyes, the buzzing in his ear growing louder by the second.
“Fuck, fuck, ‘zira— angel— red, FUCK!”
In an instant, Aziraphale was off the bed, kneeling beside him. At some point during Crowley’s… performance, he had undone his bow-tie which now lay loose around his neck, and had folded his shirtsleeves up, revealing muscular forearms, shiny with sweat. His lips were puffy and red, glistening from his own saliva.
Crowley nearly passed out.
“What is it, my love? What happened?” the angel asked, brows furrowed, before wiping his arm over his mouth.
Pity.
“Are you okay? Did I— did I hurt you?” Aziraphale’s voice had risen back to its usual register, laced with concern but also a lingering hoarseness.
Unable to speak just yet, Crowley wrapped an unsteady hand around his, bringing it to his lips. The angel immediately relaxed, lips curling into a hesitant smile. Hearing his unspoken plea for a breather, he sat back on his heels, thumb brushing over Crowley’s knuckles in a soothing gesture.
“’m okay,” Crowley managed to croak after a few minutes. “Just needed a moment. Got a bit… too much, for a second.”
“Of course, darling,” Aziraphale said softly, a proper smile blooming on his face. “Thank you for telling me. Take all the time you need. What can I do?”
Considering the position they were in, and the fact that they were only there because Crowley had asked in the first place, he shouldn’t be hesitant to answer. Yet his cheeks warmed, eyes darting away as he searched for words.
“Y’could— I dunno, hold me? For a second…”
Aziraphale’s expression softened at once, eyes crinkling with affection. “Of course I will, my love. Whatever you need.”
In a matter of seconds, the angel was once again behind him, settled back against the headboard, though his legs and arms were now stretched to welcome Crowley in his embrace. He hadn’t realised just how affected Aziraphale was, despite his seemingly calm exterior. His heart was beating erratically under the demon’s ear as he nestled against his chest, shoving his nose into his sweat-soaked shirt.
They were silent for a few moments, content to just listen to each other’s breaths as they calmed down, soaking up the moment of peace in the middle of the delicious storm.
It was Aziraphale who spoke first, voice low not to disturb the peace, as his fingers carded through the red locks. “Were you… enjoying yourself? Before you stopped me?”
“I was,” Crowley responded just as softly. “Knew you’d be good at that. Felt like I was floating for a second, there.”
Aziraphale chuckled warmly. “I was merely doing what we had discussed.”
“Well— yeah, but— y’know. It’s your impact, too. You made me feel… safe. Even as you made all the decisions, I felt very safe. You always do. That’s why I knew this would go well.”
The hold around him tightened, then a kiss pressed into his curls. “Thank you, darling. For the record, I was thoroughly enjoying myself, too.”
“Mm, I could tell,” Crowley murmured, the teasing edge returning in his voice as he finally came back to himself.
“It’s not my fault you’re delectable, Crowley,” the angel said, his playful pout audible.
“Am I, now?”
“Yes, utterly irresistible. You can’t blame me for not being able to keep my hands to myself.”
“Course not.” Crowley raised his head, finding Aziraphale’s eyes instantly, diving straight into the softness and amusement there. “You had no choice.”
Instead of answering, Aziraphale leaned closer, brushing his lips over the demon’s in a chaste kiss that didn’t take long to deepen. As the fingers tightened in his hair, Crowley’s mouth fell open, instantly welcoming the other’s tongue, where his taste faintly lingered. Their moans echoed in the otherwise silent room. Without breaking the maddening dance of their lips, Aziraphale manhandled Crowley, rearranging him so his back was flush with his chest.
Broad palms roamed his thighs, one of them slipping higher as Aziraphale’s lips brushed his ear. “Are you okay to continue?”
“I’m good, yeah— yeah, ’m good,” the demon said eagerly, wrapping his hand around the other’s neck to encourage the licks down his neck.
“Mmm, yes, you are.”
The words were whispered right onto Crowley’s damp skin, brushed away by the fluttering kisses.
Crowley was on fire. “Oh, you ba-astard.”
A warm chuckle rumbled in Aziraphale’s chest. “Tsk, watch your mouth, Crowley,” he said, even as the edges of his smile dove into red curls. “Whatever shall I do with you?” he mused then, as if thinking out loud.
Even if it was an actual question, Crowley was in no state to respond with anything other than a series of mangled consonants. Aziraphale’s hands were still roaming over his thighs, kneading the muscles and brushing over the tender skin. Eager to chase the sensation, Crowley pushed his hips up.
“Look at you, so desperate for my touch.” Even as he inched closer, he was still too far away from where the demon so desperately wanted him. “You didn’t seem to be able to handle it earlier, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, almost conversationally, as abstract patterns were traced on his inner thigh. “Are you sure you want this?”
Aziraphale didn’t give him a chance to respond—his fingers wrapped around Crowley’s cock, unhurried and deliberate. All the muscles in the demon’s body tensed at once, almost ripping a fistful of Aziraphale’s hair off, who only hummed in response.
“Yes, please, angel— please.”
The pace of his strokes only slightly picked up, Aziraphale’s other hand squeezing his hip.
“Is that what you want? You want me to get you off like this? Are you that impatient?” Even though the nature of the questions seemed accusatory, maybe also a little judgemental, Aziraphale’s tone was inquiring, soft.
“I— I don’t—” Crowley tried, only to be shushed.
Aziraphale’s hand slowed. “But this isn’t really about what you want, my darling, is it? I make the calls tonight. Isn’t that the agreement?”
This time, the demon’s response was instant. “Yes, yes, you—” A shuddering breath as Aziraphale gave his cock an approving squeeze. “You make the calls, you make— you…” He was panting, face buried in the angel’s neck as his legs stretched and his toes curled.
“Thought so,” Aziraphale said, scorching hand retreating. “Get up, love.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I said so.” His voice had a slight edge to it that immediately carried Crowley to his feet. He was getting the hang of this and the demon’s skin thrummed with the anticipation of what was to come. “Good boy,” Aziraphale said approvingly, one corner of his mouth curling upwards.
Despite his legs turning to jelly, Crowley found the strength to smirk, an eyebrow climbing up his forehead of its own accord. “What now, sssir?”
Smiling in earnest, Aziraphale simply tilted his head. “Now… you get on your knees, facing the chair,” he gestured to the old armchair in the corner he used to read in while Crowley slept, “and wait for me.”
The floor must have been shaking beneath his feet as Crowley did what he was told. Knees sinking into the plush carpet in front of the chair—the carpet that certainly wasn’t there yesterday—he put his hands on his thighs, focused on the way his lungs expanded and shrank with every breath.
He had his back to the angel, yet his senses were focused entirely on him. For a few seconds, there was silence, Aziraphale’s gaze burning patterns on the skin of his back. But then the soft creak of the bed echoed in his ears, followed by a few muted footsteps; a drawer opening; some shuffling. Suddenly, Aziraphale was behind him again, hands on his shoulders, lips on his neck. He was kneeling, too.
“Do you know what this is?” Aziraphale asked, just as the something brushed across the planes of his back, following the edges of his bones.
It was soft and slightly warm, a little rubbery, sticking to his sweat. Crowley knew exactly what Aziraphale was holding. “Th-the vibrator.”
“Very good,” the angel said as the toy inched downwards, raising goosebumps in its wake. “I’m very relieved you were so enthusiastic about edging, my dear. It gave me a lot of ideas.”
The vibrator, now coated with lube, moved to circle his rim, shooting sparks down Crowley’s legs. His nails dug into his knees, even as he forced his muscles to relax and welcome the—hopefully—impending intrusion.
“Wh-what ideas?” he asked, eyelids drooping.
“Well…” Aziraphale pushed in gently, making Crowley’s spine arch at the stretch, stinging despite his thorough preparation. “That, paired with your… enthusiasm for oral, would make for an interesting game.”
Fucking him with the toy so deep and carefully he made Crowley’s toes curl, while explaining what he had in mind wasn’t the angel’s brightest idea, as the demon scrambled to pay attention instead of giving in to the sensation. Sweat trickled down his spine, wiped away by Aziraphale’s thumb. With a final peck in his hair and a well-aimed nudge that made Crowley’s cock twitch, Aziraphale got back to his feet. The toy was still deep inside the demon, but he forced his muscles to relax, closing his eyes and hanging his head low.
There was some rustling, the familiar clink of a belt and then Aziraphale was taking his seat on the armchair, beckoning Crowley to come closer. His shirt was untucked, its top buttons undone, the collar rumpled and sweat-soaked. His trousers were not open, but his belt was missing.
“Crowley?” Aziraphale called, cupping the demon’s face with devastating gentleness. “Still with me?”
Nodding, Crowley swallowed against the dryness in his throat. “All good,” he croaked at last. “Wh-what do you want me to do?”
With a smile, the angel thumbed the other’s bottom lip, humming softly when Crowley’s tongue darted out. Salt and lube sparked a fire in the pit of his stomach, and his eyes fluttered shut.
“It’s really quite simple,” Aziraphale said, and Crowley fixed all his attention back on him. “You will show me just how talented that mouth of yours is. And maybe your hands, too. The closer I get to climax, the stronger the vibrations from your toy will be.”
With deliberate care, Aziraphale picked up a dark purple controller—small, unassuming. Nothing betrayed what it was for except for its colour. With the simple click of a button, the toy buzzed into life, pulsing inside him like a second heartbeat. Crowley stifled a whimper, widening the angel’s smile.
“Once I do climax…” Aziraphale continued, thumb now inside Crowley’s mouth up to the second knuckle, “the stimulation will stop. You will have a few minutes to catch your breath, and then we will start again. How does that sound?”
It took Crowley a few moments to realise he had been asked a question. He whined as Aziraphale moved his hand away, burying it in his hair instead. His brain was empty, save for the constant jolts of pleasure he got with every breath, the slight sting of his hair being pulled.
“F-fine,” he croaked, tongue thick, moving as little as possible.
Humming, Aziraphale pulled him closer as he settled further on the chair. He raised an eyebrow, arms resting on the sides with the controller visible and within reach.
“Get to work.”
Trembling hands reached up to the angel’s thighs, brushing up and down once, twice—grounding himself. His lips left behind a darkened trail as he leaned closer, mouthing along the seam, knee to hip. Then the other side. Dark blue eyes tracked his every movement, giving no indication of his effect. Moving even closer, he pressed his mouth against Aziraphale’s crotch. He barely had time to enjoy his triumph at the sudden hitch in the angel’s breath before the vibrator sent a stronger pulse through him.
“My pleasure means your pleasure,” Aziraphale reminded, his voice slightly tense.
Crowley nodded, then hooked a finger under his waistband and looked up under his eyelashes. “Can I…?”
“You may,” he said pointedly, even as he shifted in his seat to help slide the trousers off, along with the soaked pants.
Smiling, the demon ran his palms over the pale hips, eyes set on the glistening folds. Aziraphale was clearly more affected than he let on.
Sure enough, the angel let out a huff as Crowley simply admired him.
“Do get on with it, darling.”
Crowley smirked. “Impatient, are we?”
A pale eyebrow curled elegantly, rosy lips pursed. The vibration intensified by at least two levels. Bastard.
“F-Fuck,” Crowley gasped, nails digging into the soft muscles. Another level up. “Angel! That was— not the agreement!”
“I think you’re forgetting yourself, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, voice infuriatingly measured. “We didn’t have an agreement. You had an order.”
His cock gave a traitorous twitch at that, his rim tightened and his muscles clenched. Fuck, this was going to be harder than he thought. The vibration lowered back to a very persistent thrum, and the bastard gave him another innocent smile.
Shuffling closer, Crowley brought his lips to Aziraphale’s inner thigh, much like before. The kisses were faster this time, licking a path towards the angel’s cunt as his hands pulled him closer. The first flutter against his tongue and the gasp above him was almost worth the spike of the toy. It all urged him more. He circled Aziraphale’s clit and gave slow, gentle licks, relishing the instant tightening of firm muscles around his head.
“Oh, darling,” the angel moaned at the first suck, his fingers reaching for red, tangled curls. “That’s it, yes, my gorgeous demon.”
Crowley didn’t know if the vibration picked up or if it was the sound of Aziraphale’s voice or the feeling of him surrounding him, but his head throbbed, lost in the haze of both their pleasure. He licked a long stripe from his entrance to his clit, switching between measured, indulgent kisses and light flicks of his tongue that made the angel twitch. He would never get enough of Aziraphale’s taste. It always reminded him of ripe peaches and honey—a dripping sweetness with a smooth, floral tang. It was addictive.
He shuffled closer, tongue now deep within Aziraphale, eyes closed, nails drawing crescent moons in the pads of his hips. For a second, he forgot about the rules. The angel let out a particularly deep growl, and Crowley looked up just in time to see his head fall back, glazed eyes fluttering closed. The grip in his hair tightened, the stimulation in his arse crested. It took his entire body tensing for him to realise what was happening and wrap two fingers tightly around the base of his cock. Thankfully, that was also when Aziraphale cried out, thighs clenching around the demon’s head as the pulses around his tongue grew more intense and frantic.
Crowley thought he must have passed out for a few seconds, because next thing he knew he was panting on the angel’s quivering thigh, his cheek stuck to the sweat-slick skin. There was silence, save for the buzzing in his ears—the toy had stopped.
“Oh, look at you.” Aziraphale’s soft voice nudged him back to reality.
He tilted his head up to find the angel flushed, his hair slightly mussed, yet with a smile on his face and mischief in his eyes. Aziraphale was glancing down at the demon’s lap, specifically at his hand that was still holding onto his cock for dear life. It was dripping, but thankfully he was still hard.
“Round one and you have to hold yourself back, already?” the angel said with a soft tsk. “Are you sure you can handle this, Crowley?”
Something fierce sparked in the demon’s chest. His back straightened, even as it tingled as Aziraphale’s gaze dropped to his glistening, smirking lips. He didn’t say anything. Instead, he leaned closer, eyes locked with the angel’s as he sucked on his swollen clit. Instantly, the vibration started up again, back to its low thrum.
This time, Crowley was methodical. Long licks with the flat of his tongue ended in quick flickers with only the tip. Aziraphale had been clear, he was free to use his hands. His middle finger traced the edges of his entrance, and the dip inside was followed by the anticipated pulse of the toy. With a deep breath, Crowley forced his muscles to relax, losing himself in the sensation of Aziraphale. As his finger crooked, the angel keened above him—his back arched, one ankle hooking around his lithe body, keeping him close.
“You’re so— perfect, utterly perfect, my love,” Aziraphale breathed.
Crowley doubled down, and so did the vibrator. Another finger dipped inside, then he reached up to circle his coated fingers around Aziraphale’s nipple, sighing at the guttered sob that echoed in his ears. A few more pointed flicks of his tongue paired with a gentle twist of the bud between his knuckles, and the angel’s muscles tensed again, his hips rising as his second climax coursed through him.
The buzz ceased, and Crowley took a single breath of relief before diving back in.
“Cro— oh, fuck, darling—” Aziraphale cried, pelvis now hovering, both ankles locked around his head.
The vibration spiked back to where it was a few seconds ago but it didn’t deter Crowley. As long as his fingers were clamped back around his cock, he was good to go. Aziraphale’s wrecked whimpers and dripping praise faded into the background, as Crowley determined breathing to be entirely optional and buried his face into the folds. It only took a few more seconds of pointed flicks and measured sucks—as well as the barest, teasing graze of teeth—for the pleasure to build up again and the angel to scream out his name.
Kisses rained down on the soft skin of Aziraphale’s thighs, his fingers rubbing soothing circles on the still quivering belly. It only took a gentle tug at his hair for Crowley to glance up, finding the angel grinning dazedly.
“You…” Aziraphale breathed, shaking his head. “Menace. Absolute… menace.”
A soft cackle burst out of the demon. He gave Aziraphale’s cunt another chaste peck, earning himself a playful slap when his entire body jerked.
“I was ‘utterly perfect’ two minutes ago,” Crowley remarked with a smirk, then coughed the hoarseness out of his dry throat.
Aziraphale’s eyes cleared instantly. “Need some water, love?”
Cocking his head and narrowing his eyes, the demon murmured, “I could just drink you up.”
He got another weak swat for his troubles.
“Oh, you fiend. It’s my fault for being worried.” Despite the audible roll of his eyes, Aziraphale was smiling.
“Some water would be good, actually,” Crowley said at last.
With the barest flick of a wrist, a glass appeared on the table beside them, filled almost to the brim, its sides dripping from condensation. Aziraphale picked it up—with a faint tremor in his hands that made Crowley beam with pride—and brought it to the demon’s lips. Crowley’s eyes fluttered shut as the water slid down his throat, cooling him and making his muscles relax. Once the glass was empty, Aziraphale sent it back into the ether and brushed a few stray drops from his chin.
“What do you think, angel?” Crowley asked, tilting his head into the angel’s warm palm. “Got one more in you?”
Smiling, Aziraphale leaned closer, pressed his lips on his mouth and then followed the trail of goosebumps to his ear. “I would rather have you in me,” he whispered there, giving a teasing, scorching lick to the lobe that made his cock stir again. “But,” he continued before Crowley had the chance to jump to his feet, “you look so pretty down on your knees, with my slick all over you. Can you be a bit more patient for me, my love?”
“Fffucking hell…”
“Watch your mouth, Crowley,” Aziraphale reminded, sending one more jarring bolt through the toy.
Cock now throbbing painfully, he could only nod as the angel, smug and pink and gorgeous, leaned back again, spreading his thighs like an inviting buffet. He undid all the buttons of his shirt, letting the fabric drape to his sides as he raised an eyebrow. Crowley was hungry.
He brought one finger to the folds, moving it lazily up and down, toying with the wetness. Aziraphale’s sighs wrapped around him like a warm blanket. His cunt gave a weak flutter as Crowley moved up to circle his clit, and he placed a soothing peck on his thigh as his own pleasure spiked.
When he lifted his gaze, heavy with the haze of arousal, the view punched all the air out of his lungs. Curls, darkened from sweat and spiked up in wild directions, clashed fiercely with the deep red of Aziraphale’s chair as he tilted his head to the side, heavy-lidded eyes fixed on Crowley. His bottom lip—plump and rosy as ever—got trapped between his teeth, even as the corner of his mouth twisted up. The demon’s hand trailed up his naked torso, even as the other continued tracing lazy shapes over his cunt. Aziraphale’s nipples peaked, Crowley’s careful ministrations dragging twitches from his chest.
“I love you so much,” Crowley whispered, his smile wide.
Just as Aziraphale was about to respond, he slid two fingers inside him, crooking them as sucked on his clit, drawing a growl out of the angel instead of loving words. Right then and there, that was almost better. He pumped his fingers with a tempered grace, building on his love’s climax brick by brick, kiss by kiss.
Every flick of his tongue, every twist of his fingers, amped up the electric whines. The pleasure licked up his own spine slowly but confidently, drawing cracks in his patience that deepened with every shuddering breath. Aziraphale was almost undone, his sounds climbing higher in pitch, pulling the string of Crowley’s arousal taut. With a frustrated growl, he writhed against the angel’s shin, his entire body trembling at the first contact. The weak brushes along with the growing intensity of the toy were almost enough to make him lose control.
A chuckle curled around Aziraphale’s whine as he looked down at him, dark eyes gleaming from amusement and ecstasy. “Just a bit more, my darling demon,” he breathed, cupping the back of his head and pulling him closer against him. His leg moved away, hooked back around his back, but the vibration—mercifully—didn’t rise. “You’re doing so well, Crowley, we’re almost there.”
Desperate for release or the stimulation to stop again—whichever came first—Crowley wrapped his lips around Aziraphale’s clit, flicking it mercilessly as he hummed and traced circles with the pads of his fingers inside him. The vibrations sparked within him, but his own cries were stifled by Aziraphale’s when he came with a deafening shout, his thighs nearly crushing Crowley’s head. Tears streaked down the demon’s cheeks from overstimulation as shocks of pleasure shot up his spine. His body tensed; his thighs trembled, his toes curled, and the fingers of his free hand clamped tightly around Aziraphale’s thigh. And yet, when he pulled back, breathless and dizzy, he was still hard. He would have laughed if his entire body wasn’t so wired up. At this point he was almost certain that if the vibrator moved even a tenth of a centimetre, he would explode.
“Oh, sweet boy,” Aziraphale cooed once he had caught his breath. “You didn’t finish?”
“You didn’t…” Crowley’s face heated, squirming despite his precarious position—and regretting it immediately. His entire body spasmed, a high-pitched whine escaping his throat. His cock throbbed against nothing, leaking freely onto the carpet below.
“What?” the angel prompted softly.
“Permission,” Crowley croaked, drawing careful breaths in a desperate attempt to hold himself back. “You didn’t… give me permission.”
Aziraphale’s jaw dropped, then his face softened as he smiled. “Oh, my darling, my sweet, perfect demon. How careless of me. Get up here, my love. Take what you want.”
The words rang out in Crowley’s ears like a song, making his muscles throb. Every fibre of his being urged him to jump up, straddle Aziraphale and take him until they were both seconds away from oblivion. And yet his body betrayed him, screaming for a miracle that would pull him back away from the edge. Aziraphale didn’t rush him, simply stroked his hair and whispered words of encouragement as he caught his breath.
At last, Crowley got to his feet, numb and unsteady as he brought both legs over his partner. The toy, still very notably in its place, sent shivers straight through his spine, leaving him breathless as Aziraphale embraced him.
“Such a good boy,” the angel cooed, fingers curling around Crowley’s damp, pulsing nape. “I’m so proud of you, my love.”
Not missing a beat, Crowley brought their lips together, sighing weakly as the arms tightened around him. They stayed like that for a little while, lost in the languid dance of their tongues. Even the spikes of arousal softened as he felt himself relax, now thrumming almost absently in the base of his spine.
It took a bit of rearranging—and some daring balancing—but Crowley sank home at last, his shuddering breath tortured and utterly blissful. The inviting crook of Aziraphale’s neck was the perfect spot to bury his face in, inhaling the delicious scent of sweat, chocolate and vanilla. He rocked gently into him at first, holding himself up on weak arms. It was desperate and clumsy and perfect. The stretch, the squeeze, the overwhelming warmth punched wrecked moans out of them both, emptying his head of any thoughts that weren’t Aziraphale. Breath already ragged, he picked up speed, even as he melted under the soft scratches on his back. It came as no surprise when his legs trembled as his whines climbed higher and higher in pitch, his pace stuttering. Aziraphale’s breath hitched, and his hands moved down to his hips, urging him on.
“I can’t— ’m nearly there, ‘ngel,” he whimpered right into the soft rolls under Aziraphale’s chin.
“I know, I know darling. Go on, my love, it’s okay, you’ve been so patient, so good. Come for me.”
Crowley jumped over the edge with a howl that scratched its way out of his throat. His muscles spasmed, clenching around the silent toy as his cock twitched relentlessly. Breath coming in forceful gasps, he melted on top of Aziraphale, arms clinging desperately to him.
“You are perfect, darling,” the angel whispered in his ear, one hand buried in his hair and the other holding him tight against him. It only took a quick miracle for the vibrator to disappear, allowing his body to relax completely. “You did so well, my sweet love. How are you feeling?”
“‘m floating,” Crowley hummed as his eyes fluttered shut.
A few minutes passed, the words of affirmation and soft caresses never stopping. Just as the demon stirred in Aziraphale’s arms, pulling out slowly and carefully with another full body shudder, a huge platter, filled with a variety of fruits and cheeses appeared on the table next to them.
“Mmm, peckish?” Crowley murmured, his smile still buried in the other’s neck.
“Well,” Aziraphale said bashfully, “it was part of our pre-approved aftercare.”
“That it was.” Reaching out, he plucked a grape from the stem and traced the angel’s lips with it.
Aziraphale smiled, darting his tongue out to catch the fruit, brushing Crowley’s fingers along with it.
“Are you trying to rile me up again?” the demon asked, even as he reached for another piece.
“I assure you, I am perfectly sated and content to just sit here with you,” Aziraphale said, now intentionally licking a stripe along the length of Crowley’s finger when he offered another grape. His dastardly smile shone bright in the darkness of the room. “But I must admit I rather enjoy that delightful hitch in your breath.”
“Bastard.”
Their laughs echoed in the small room, soft and blissful, as they soaked up each other’s warmth.
1. Said flick was what a normal person would consider an elegant swivel of fingers, but for Aziraphale it was almost a dismissal. Back to the story.