Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The pressure between his legs was pounding. It was aching. It was unbearable.

“Please,” he whispered to absolutely no one, not sure that it would count as prayer, reclining forcefully against the back of the chair. “Oh, please, please…” His heels shoved into the wood floor beneath him.

He just wanted relief, but there was only one way he could get it. There was nothing that could satisfy this need except for Crowley, his missing component. Crowley, out there in the world, leaving him empty.

He needed them. They needed to be joined. He wondered if Crowley felt the same, or anywhere close.

He could just envision their long slender fingers wrapping around his wrists, pinning them overhead onto the pillows, and finding their place securely inside him. He’d swear he could feel them grinding against him, as far in as they could go. He let his eyes drift closed, reveling in the dreamy image.

He knew that humans would often relieve themselves when they felt this way, would use their hands or outside accoutrements to, as he’d heard, get themselves “off the edge.” But this had always felt out of reach for him, had hardly appealed. Even alone, he felt too embarrassed to approach it.

If he were honest, he doubted his ability to please himself, to come anywhere close to how Crowley made him feel with their very presence.

All he could do was settle in and wait for it to pass - enough that he could distract himself with a cup of tea or piece of cake, at least.

“Crowley…” He allowed the whisper to escape his lips.

*

“Aziraphale… Aziraphale...”

They were leaning together against the squat bookshelf by the window of the shop. His hands held Crowley’s face adoringly; as his lips moved away, one hand stayed fast in the red hair while the other dipped into their jacket, the arm winding its way around their back. He enthusiastically kissed along the demon’s neck, drinking in their scent.

“I’m… I’m scared.”

He drew back instantly, the space between them punishing. “Of me?”

“Of… all of this.”

Their brow was creased; their eyes were like stained-glass panes shielding an internal storm.

Aziraphale nodded, understanding this all too well. “Thank you,” he said. “I’m so very glad you told me.”

Trying to conceal his disappointment, he forced himself to smile, though Crowley winced as if doubting the words or dissatisfied with the answer.

“Truly,” he assured them. “There’s not a thing in this world that you have to do, my dear. Not for either of us, anymore.”

Crowley’s gaze fell to the floor, to their wringing hands. “I know.”

“We’re together now,” Aziraphale went on, the smile becoming more genuine. “It’s just us. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“Yeah,” Crowley said shortly. They nodded, but the golden eyes still flitted around the room, landing anywhere except for the blue.

Aziraphale wanted more than anything to close the distance, to hold the demon through this, to let them know that whatever they needed was all right. More than all right. He ached for his presence to be a comfort.

He swallowed. “Would you like some space?”

Crowley shook their head fervently. “No. I want to, angel.” Finally, blessedly, they wrenched their gaze up to meet Aziraphale’s. “I really… I want to want to. Thought about it for so long… and now…” They pressed their lips tightly together and looked away again. “I’m sorry.”

Aziraphale’s hands flew to their face, cupping their jaw gently, stroking their sharp cheekbones with his thumbs. He was desperate to lean forward, to meet Crowley’s lips with his, but he needed to keep himself in check. “You have nothing to apologize for. I only want to be with you.”

Crowley’s nostrils were flaring as they took great, shuddering breaths.

“Would you prefer to go for a walk?” Aziraphale smiled again, with far more ease now, moving his hands down to their shoulders. “Get some air, see the ducks?”

Crowley shook their head and looked down again. Aziraphale had never seen them so apprehensive. “Can… can we try?”

The angel’s heart fluttered. He had to contain himself, determined not to overwhelm his darling. But he couldn’t stop his eyes widening, the corners of his lips curling.

When they lifted their face to level with Aziraphale’s, a warmth filled Crowley’s eyes, a sort of relief smoothing out the tension in their skin.

“Oh, my dear. Of course we can.”

Tenderly, his hands moved back up to hold the demon’s face as, at last, he pressed his lips against theirs, letting his eyes fall closed.

“And please, tell me if you change your mind,” he murmured. “I couldn’t dream of… anything hurting you, or frightening you. I could never bear to be the cause.”

He kissed them again, and Crowley’s brow furrowed deeply as they nodded into the embrace, covering Aziraphale’s hands with their own.

“We’ll go slow,” he whispered. “You can lead the way.”

Pulling away, Crowley inhaled deeply and nodded again. “Yeah. Not worried. I trust you.”

The words were nearly enough to bring Aziraphale to tears. The way the demon was scrambling, but willing to stay with him, and to place their trust in him, in this most vulnerable of forms…

As undeserving and unworthy as he was. As many times as he’d failed them, as many times as Crowley had carried the torch of devotion for them both.

And the openness he felt, the expansion of his heart. The freedom to stare into Crowley’s eyes with all the adoration he could never contain. It was a wave crashing over him, sweeping him out from the shore.

As often as he’d questioned, as angry as he’d been with Her, he would never stop kissing the proverbial ground She walked upon, for She’d created this glorious being standing before him. This demon who was his greatest blessing, She’d allowed them to be together.

He would be humbly indebted for the rest of eternity.

“That means more than you can imagine,” he said. Lacing their fingers together, Aziraphale began to lead them away from the window and toward the spiral staircase.

His heart thundered against his ribs as they walked, but his desire to be strong for Crowley was anchoring him, keeping his hands from shaking. He was torn between the urge to tear up the stairs at supernatural speed, and the weight he felt in each step, suddenly aware of his every twitching muscle.

“Neither of us has any experience,” he said softly as they climbed. “We’ll find our way together.”

Crowley snorted behind him. “Meaning we’ll have no idea if we’re doin’ it right.”

“Meaning,” countered Aziraphale as he reached the dim landing at the top of the steps, “there’s no way we can get it wrong.”

He turned and leaned against Crowley, kissing them deeply. His embrace pushed them gently into the wall, and he was thrilled by the rumbling moan that rose in their throat.

“After all,” he whispered, “this wouldn’t be the first time we’ve felt our way through the dark. I do so love you, my darling.”

“I love you, angel,” they sighed, seeming to relax a bit.

Aziraphale smiled. “Then everything’s perfect.”

This time Crowley was kissing him, spidery fingers knotting in the blond hair, pulling his face ever closer to theirs. Aziraphale sighed into their mouth, reveling in the intoxicating taste. His hands gripped the wall behind them, trying to channel his ardor through his arms, doing his best to stay tender with the demon.

“You feel…” Crowley’s hands loosened just slightly, pulling their face an inch away. Their cheeks were starting to flush.

Aziraphale hoped his facade of calm wasn’t crumbling. “Mm?”

Crowley hesitated, licked their lips. “So strong.”

Their simple words sent waves of arousal up Aziraphale’s spine, through his chest, awakening the guardian he was created to be.

“All I want is to be strong for you,” he whispered, truthfully, and leaned in for another kiss, every part of him beginning to throb, to tremble. “Whenever you’re ready, darling.”

He was in danger of losing control already, the task of pulling away unthinkable. He couldn’t stop kissing Crowley, their mouths open, tongues tangling - but he needed to get his breathing under control, needed to let Crowley lead as he’d promised.

Crowley was reaching down to take Aziraphale’s hand, and they stepped aside, pulling the angel into the warm light of the bedroom without breaking the embrace. Aziraphale could feel them quivering, their breath going ragged, but they showed no sign of pulling away.

They walked him backwards until they reached the bed, guiding him down to sit on the edge as they leaned down. All too happy with this direction, Aziraphale’s fingers traced up the demon’s neck, stroking through the ends of their hair.

“I think the… the clothes usually come off, around now, yeah?” Crowley breathed, their eyes still closed.

Aziraphale’s task of masking his exuberance felt like a lost cause.

“I don’t think it matters what usually happens,” he managed, pleasantly surprised at the evenness of his tone. “Please, let it be what you want.”

Crowley swallowed and nodded, forehead rubbing against the angel’s. They straightened up and backed away, then shrugged out of their jacket, tossing it aside to drape over the back of a chair.

Aziraphale’s eyes trained in on their fingers as they went to the collar of their black shirt, beginning to undo the buttons, working their way down.

He could feel his jaw drifting open, eyes widening as if to drink in more of this image, concentrating as if he might never see this happen again. The birth of stars had never held a candle to Crowley for him.

The satisfied smirk on the demon’s face was the cherry on top. “Careful, angel. You’ll wrinkle your bedsheets.”

Aziraphale glanced down and had to chuckle; entirely without realizing, he’d gathered the soft tartan blanket into both hands, bunching it into his fists at his sides.

“Rather giving myself away, aren’t I?” he giggled, but couldn’t stop ogling as Crowley unfastened the last few buttons, leaving their shirt to hang open. “Not sure it’s my fault,” he went on, stupidly, the words falling out automatically as he watched them pull the sleeves down. “You’re a masterful temptor, I hardly even think you need to try anymore.”

Crowley dropped their shirt to the floor behind them. “Thought angels couldn’t be tempted.” Their steps seemed to glide as they moved back toward Aziraphale.

“This one can,” he muttered, transfixed, eyes raking up and down their lithe torso. As soon as they were within reach his arms flung out to wrap around them, to hold them close, nearly pulling them down onto his lap as their mouths met hungrily again.

Remembering himself, he loosened his grip, but Crowley only brought themself closer, allowing their body to melt across Aziraphale, arms locked around his neck as their mouths moved against each other.

One slender, black-jean-clad leg came, shaking, to kneel on the bed next to Aziraphale, whose heart was pounding furiously. He couldn’t help but run a hand over Crowley’s hip, down the thigh pressing against his side.

“You’re so warm,” he whispered, stroking fingers lightly down the demon’s back.

Crowley put all their weight against him, Aziraphale welcoming them eagerly, but trying not to hold them too closely. He wanted them to move freely, to feel in full control.

The long hands came to Aziraphale’s collar as they leaned to the side, tumbling down onto the bed. Aziraphale let himself be pulled, landing with a moan on his side, facing Crowley, whose leg remained hitched around his hip.

“Oh, darling,” he whispered, his hand planting, open-palmed, on the small of their back. Their mouths met again, growing drunk on the feel of it, on the hot breath that was coming faster and faster.

Crowley was pinned to him like a magnet, holding his face adoringly, kissing him roughly. But they pulled away, after a moment.

“Not sure what we do… from here,” they admitted, with a shy giggle.

Aziraphale felt the warm smile spreading across his lips. “This,” he said. “This is divine, Crowley. Thank you… for being here with me.”

“Shut up,” the demon whispered, but they were smiling crookedly. They leaned forward, again tugging at Aziraphale’s collar, to kiss him deeply.

“You can remove my clothes, too,” Aziraphale offered, hoping the voracity wasn’t too plain in his voice. “If you want.”

Crowley was nodding, their lips leaving the angel’s and tracing along his jaw, coming to explore up and down his neck.

“D’you know what you smell like?” they breathed, barely audible, though they were brushing against his earlobe.

“Mmf… I, I don’t.”

“Vanilla… and sugar cubes, and honey, and lilac… and faintly, some tobacco.” Their lips sucked at the tender flesh where his neck met his shoulder, and he couldn’t help the moan that expelled from his throat.

“Everything good and soft in the world… Something else, too, now,” the demon went on. “Something I’ve caught a whiff of… just sometimes… was never able to put my finger on.”

Aziraphale let his eyes fall shut, absolutely content for his demon to purr to him, to run their soft lips wherever they wanted. His hips angled further toward Crowley, unable to stop himself - but they didn’t seem to mind; if anything, their hands pulled him even closer.

“Think I’ve got it now,” they said, a smile in their voice along with the slight tease of a growl. “Think I know where it’s comin’ from, even…”

Oh. Yes, of course they would have been able to pick up on his blatant desire over the years. He had some wherewithal to feel slightly embarrassed, but decided it didn’t much matter now.

He realized with another pang, a mix of shame and giddiness, that he was positively dripping down below; he must have been soaking through his trousers.

As the demon nestled ever closer, Aziraphale felt his layers of clothing melting away, feeling more of Crowley’s skin against his; the bony, slender figure pressing perfectly against his wider, welcoming front.

“Oh,” he managed, breathlessly. “Oh, Crowley, thank you… You feel so wonderful…”

His hands were beginning to shake as he fought to restrain himself. The task was made even more difficult when he realized their pants were both disappearing, too.

Crowley was hiding their face below his chin, lips running along the frame of his collarbones, and then along his shoulders. Their long limbs grew tighter around Aziraphale; they seemed to be enjoying the feel of his naked flesh just as much.

“Oh, Crowley… oh, please, kiss me…”

Swiftly, as he knew they would, Crowley lifted their head to meet Aziraphale’s, their lips gasping against each other, every part of them clinging desperately. In the midst of this embrace Crowley pushed up, landing on top of him.

“Angel, you feel… you… fuck...”

Something was grazing against Aziraphale’s lower belly, bobbing and dragging along his skin.

“Is that you?” he nearly whimpered, curling even closer, shocked that there was any distance left to close.

The demon was nodding, turning their face away again, nearly panting now. Aziraphale knew they would hate if he caught them trembling, but he couldn’t escape it.

“Oh, my love,” he cooed, fingers gentle in the demon’s hair, though it took effort. “Please don’t feel afraid, Crowley. Never feel afraid.”

Sharp nails were digging into his back. His jaw dropped with the searing shock of it; it may as well have been the first thing he’d ever felt. It was as if a door was being opened to a whole new world of sensation.

“Oh, yes, dear,” he babbled on, unable to stop the stream. “Yes, oh please, I love to feel you hold me… Your touch is just… oh...”

Crowley’s mouth was open on his chest, a deep wet kiss planted over his thrashing heart. They moved across, and as far down as their twisting neck would allow.

With each blazing touch, waves of electricity coursed through the angel’s body. Crowley’s leg slid down from his hip, tangling with his own two, which he realized were beginning to shake. He was quite aware of the ache between his legs, the throbbing folds, desperate for contact that he knew may never come.

“Oh, Crowley, thank you, thank you…”

Their pointed chin lifted; their eyes locked with Aziraphale’s, their nostrils beginning to flare. Their arms constricted; they lifted the angel further up onto the bed, landing together with an “Unnngh.”

They stared into his face with those wild eyes. “You sure this is all right?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “All right? Crowley… This is all I’ve ever wanted.”

Crowley’s expression seemed to melt, just quickly, before they leaned down again and drowned Aziraphale in kisses. Their hands explored, squeezing down his arms, the angel closing his eyes and loving every moment of their grip.

Their fingers traced over Aziraphale’s hips and down his thighs - his breath caught at the proximity to the throbbing, slickening place between.

“Would you…” Aziraphale swallowed. “Would you like me to… Would you like to be touched too, darling?”

The demon paused, then nodded.

“Guide me,” whispered the angel.

One of their warm hands came to gently hold one of his wrists as their tongues tangled.

They brought the hand to press against their chest, then placed it on their neck, dragging the fingers all the way around, adding just a little pressure on the bobbing lump in front. Aziraphale’s fingers were greedy, stroking to feel as much of them as they could.

Crowley brought the hand up to their face, and Aziraphale eagerly opened it to tenderly hold their cheek. They planted a kiss on his palm before pulling him down, over their stomach, to their pelvis.

Aziraphale hadn’t expected this, not quite, not so fast, but if it was what Crowley wanted, he was thrilled. He could hear himself breathing faster through his nose, furious against the demon’s skin.

“My love,” he moaned into their mouth. “My sweet, sweet love…”

The only sound was their combined shuddering breaths as Aziraphale’s hand was brought down to the base of Crowley’s cock; he kept his fingertips gentle, feather-light, as he caressed up the underside of their length.

As he did, Crowley’s neck craned, their back stiffened; their hand came back up to brace onto the bed by Aziraphale’s shoulder. Aziraphale watched their mouth fall open, their eyes swing out of focus… a truly dazzling sight he wanted burned into his memory.

They twitched in his hand, and they both began speaking at once, Crowley’s head dropping down and face screwing up, looking almost pained.

“Oh, Aziraphale -”

“Do you -"

"Ah -"

"Do you like it?”

“I ffffucking like it.”

Aziraphale kept his touch soft, the pace the demon had set him at, fingers padding up and down, feeling them harden further to stand at full attention.

“Oh, Crowley, thank you,” he was saying again, feeling slightly idiotic but knowing it would be pointless to try and contain all the gratitude and tenderness he felt.

It was bliss, being able to touch them this way. It was beyond anything he could have imagined.

Their neck seemed to be spasming with every touch, their face contorting as it hovered before his. “Fuck, angel…”

Fluid was dripping down onto Aziraphale’s stomach.

“You’re beyond compare,” he whispered up at them, fingers fluttering. “You’re utterly unique in all the universe. You’re… you’re the only one for me, Crowley…”

The demon’s breath was coming solely in grunts, in whines; their eyes were squeezed shut, their teeth starting to grit. Aziraphale was transfixed, doing his best to keep his wits about him, wanting more than anything to hold them gently, to give them a safe space to come apart.

“Is it too much, love?”

In answer, Crowley’s hand flashed down to Aziraphale’s and wrapped it tightly, forcefully, around their cock, giving a few hard, demonstrative tugs.

A fire caught in Aziraphale’s chest and he obeyed, massaging vigorously, as Crowley plunged down upon his mouth again, nearly snarling against his face.

“Angel, more, more -”

“My darling,” said Aziraphale, every inch of his skin standing on end. He stretched to plant a long, loving kiss on Crowley’s neck; in response, the demon’s whole body collapsed down upon him. Their hips started to undulate, shoving further into Aziraphale’s jerking hand.

“Fuck, fuck, oh angel - don’t stop, don’t stop -”

“I won’t,” Aziraphale murmured into their ear. “I love you, darling, I won’t stop.”

He kissed his way down Crowley’s shoulder, feeling their panting breaths against his neck, lifting in pitch. One of their hands came to gnarl into his hair, stroking feverishly. His free arm wrapped around their back, holding them securely to him.

“I’ve got you… Don’t be afraid, my love, I’ve got you…”

A growl was rising up Crowley’s throat. “Ahhh, angel, fuck - " And then, breathless and breaking, "Aziraphale!”

Hot fluid spurted out onto Aziraphale’s stomach and chest; they both jumped in surprise, but Aziraphale’s arm kept them pinned together. Crowley’s head arched back and their mouth hung wide open, the cries spilling out of their throat until they were entirely spent over him.

“Yes, yes,” Aziraphale was saying in wonder, staring up in enraptured awe.

The demon fell upon him again, breath heaving, face in the bedsheets behind him. His arms wound around them, one of his legs bending to caress along their side.

“Oh, Crowley, thank you,” he said again, entirely earnest. “That was so lovely. That was perfect.”

He held them close while they trembled, their breathing gradually coming more under control.

“Really… I know you don’t like it when I bless you, but -”

“Mph.”

“But you bless me, dear. You are the blessing of my existence. There’s nothing, there’s no one, that’s more deserving of praise than you.”

His achingly hollow want was no better physically, but his heart was so full. He was perfectly satisfied, so thankful that Crowley had trusted him, had allowed Aziraphale to pleasure them this way, to see them in such ecstasy.

Here they were in bed together; it was all Aziraphale wanted. As it all set in, it was hard to fight back tears.

This part of their lives had begun; he could see the path unfurling before them as they lay entwined, a single pulsing mess. This was the last thing they’d had to hide, their bodies were all they hadn’t openly shared until now.

“You’re beautiful, Crowley. You’re everything.”

He hoped the demon would never get up. Their weight on him was the most exquisite thing he’d ever felt.

They swallowed and slowly came to prop their head up with their elbow, gazing at Aziraphale. “S’pose that was a bit of a selfish start.”

One of their fingers came to twirl through the blond hair curling on Aziraphale’s chest.

“It was delightful,” Aziraphale said, softly, honestly.

Crowley cleared their throat. “All right, let’s go again.”

Aziraphale beamed instantly in response, but had to tell them, “I don’t think that’s how it works, Crowley. With your sort of… presentation, dear. I think it takes some time to work back up.”

They frowned. “What?”

He blinked. “I think you’ve rather… spent yourself. For now.”

Slowly, the realization came over their face. They looked down, scandalized.

“What, just once?”

Aziraphale chuckled. “I’m afraid so. It’s quite all right, my love. That was brilliant. To see you that way…”

“Hmmm…” They pressed their lips together. “May be a good time for a surreptitious half-a-miracle.”

“You don’t think anyone would notice?” The angel raised an eyebrow.

“So what if they do,” Crowley chuckled.

*

In the Violation Reports office in Hell, an envelope rattled through the pneumatic tube and shot out to smack the desk-working demon in the face.

They jumped in their chair, having almost fallen asleep, and stretched, looking around for what had hit them.

There it was - a grimy envelope that had landed on the floor by their chair. They bent to pick it up, and the large fiery words came into focus: “MIRACLE BY TRAITOR: THE DEMON CROWLEY.”

“Oh, what’s he done now?” they growled, tearing it open excitedly.

Their eyes raked over the text and their mouth fell open, tongue sticking out in disgust, so long it dropped with a smack onto the desk.

“Ughhhh!” they cried, and threw the memo into the air, where it went up in a cloud of flames and sparks.

Chapter Text

Aziraphale couldn’t help but giggle foolishly, delirious and giddy. Perhaps they never had to leave this bed again. He might eventually miss food and his precious books and antiques, but those were all worlds away now. He was being whisked into unthinkable realms of euphoria, held in the constant, steady arms of his demon, the one being from whom he could never bear to part.

It was no use fighting the grin on his face. If he could simply lie here and pleasure Crowley, feel them in his hands for the rest of his existence, what a wild bliss that would be.

He was blessed beyond belief. Never had a creature so undeserving been given so much.

Crowley’s hand guided his back down to their miraculously rehardening cock, and Aziraphale’s mouth found theirs as his fingers wrapped back around, coaxing and gentle.

“I can’t tell you, truly,” he breathed, “how this feels… that you… that I could…”

All language was failing him; how could he ever show the demon how they made him feel?

His fingers brushed further down, finding the tender skin of Crowley’s balls, gauging their response–which couldn’t have been plainer, as they shoved their face closer to his, lacing the fingers of their free hand with his.

“Trying to get it less sensitive this time,” they growled.

“No, no, please,” protested the angel. “I want to hear you. I want you honest. I want every bit.”

Crowley slithered closer, somehow, pressing against him with that furrowed brow - in concentration or in fervor, Aziraphale didn’t know.

“I don’t deserve you,” he breathed.

He felt a gnashing within, that fire raging in his chest and his aching slit. He wanted to touch Crowley all over, wanted to run his tongue along every crevice, wanted to explore down all their limbs and nibble every inch of skin. He wanted to seize them and pounce on top, to ease down and have them fill him, to see the look on their beautiful face when they entered.

Crowley pulled away, just slightly. “You all right?”

Aziraphale bit his lip with the effort of restraint, realizing his touch had become rougher than he’d meant it to. He was dragging Crowley’s hands closer greedily, fondling them with more vigor, squeezing gently.

“More than all right,” he said. “In danger of getting carried away, if I’m honest.”

That blasted, crooked smile. That radiant beauty, birthplace of a thousand solar storms. Aziraphale had always been so powerless to it.

The bright yellow eyes glanced down to the place his madness was coming from, where his slickening legs were curling and squirming helplessly, needing something to wrap around.

“D’you want me to…” They looked back at his face, then their chin jerked straight up as they gasped and drove against him, as he gave the softest twist of his stroking hand.

“Yes. So fucking badly.” He was shocked at the baritone of his voice; by rights he should be whining, whimpering, squealing.

Crowley’s eyebrows twitched, and he had to smile; he knew they loved the rare occasions when the angel was profane.

They leaned in and kissed him while reaching down and pulling his hand from their cock. They brought it over and placed it on the crest between his legs, where he could feel how hot and slippery he was, how buzzing, how ready to be quelled.

“Can you show me?” they breathed, gravelly against his lips.

Aziraphale swallowed. “I don’t really know, I’m afraid. I’ve never…”

“Mm.”

“...touched it.”

Crowley seemed to consider this, eyes fixed on the angel’s hand as it instinctively pressed down upon his throbbing lips as if trying to suppress their screams, trying to ease the pressure threatening to discorporate him.

They looked back up to meet his eyes. “No way to get it wrong?”

“None,” he said, desperate but absolute in this.

They nodded, though Aziraphale could see their apprehension, nearly as plain as when they’d begun.

“You can’t do a thing but please me,” he promised. “Every moment you touch me, every moment you’re with me… I could pray at your altar forever, Crowley, and it would never be enough.”

The crease in their forehead smoothed, their eyes turned to molten rivers. “You mean that,” they murmured.

It wasn’t a question, but Aziraphale nodded all the same, needing them to know. Needing to drive every shred of doubt from their heart.

“Darling, every part of you is… beyond my limited adequacy to describe. You’re the only thing I ever want to feel again, the only thing I want to taste…”

“Hmmm. Well, speakin’ of tasting…”

They slid down, hands pushing him into the mattress by his shoulders, that sweet open mouth making its way down the center of his chest, sucking lavishly on every bit of pillowy skin down his stomach. Aziraphale’s moans streamed out of him, electrified by every touch, his hand gentle on the back of the demon’s neck.

“Your lips,” he praised, the words pouring from him without a thought. “Oh, your sweet, rapturous lips, Crowley…”

Their hands gripped down his torso, following the hot trail of their breath. They mirrored each other’s movements, a snaking pattern down his sides.

“Oh Crowley, thank you… Are, are you - ah, ahh - “

The air flew from his body in an instant; he was crashing to Earth, shattering upon the surface, but somehow could have soared straight off the bed into the ether, as Crowley found the place of Aziraphale’s pleasure, sucking a ravenous kiss against him.

He heard himself gasp, long and drawn-out, every part of him tensing with the shock. Then, his own angelic voice booming off the walls -

Crying out in the ancient tongue, the Word that meant God before the word “God.”

At this bold expletive, the empty silhouette of shame lifted its head, in some abandoned corner of his mind. Crowley only rumbled with a deep moan between his legs, their hands shaking and neck jerking, as they moved against him again, their tongue running up the center of his slit.

“Oh fuck, Crowley, yes,,” he cried, unable to stop himself. “That’s - you’re - it’s miraculous. Oh please, Crowley, I love you…”

His thighs pressed in on the sharp edges of Crowley’s face as he keened.

Don’t overwhelm them, he told himself, the single stream of rationale in the midst of what was surely his going mad. Don’t overwhelm them.

He propped himself up on one unsteady elbow, staring down in frenzied wonder as their cheeks bobbed, as their hands wrapped around his hips, holding him close as if not wanting him to get away.

“You’re so beautiful,” Aziraphale was saying. “Do you have any idea… Do you know how… ah - “

Again he succumbed to the waves, Crowley finding a rhythm, dragging their tongue up and down, lifting him so much further than Heaven. He fell back, head bouncing slightly off the bedclothes, the hand on the demon’s neck trying so very hard not to squeeze. His other, however, was gripping the blankets for dear life.

“I’m trying so - h-hard - not to - lose control - Crowley -”

His hips moved without consulting him, grinding against Crowley’s face, who only seemed encouraged.

“Yes, yes,” cried the angel. “Crowley, thank you, thank you…”

One long arm released him and reached up to his face, tilting it back down to meet their playful, sparking eyes with one brow arched. Their long, elegant thumb dragged from the corner of his mouth across his lip, and his tongue edged forward to greet it.

“And what if you did?” the demon asked, lifting their face above his tuft of feathery white hair, unmistakably quivering too. “If you stopped trying so hard.”

Aziraphale’s chest heaved, the challenge hanging in the air.

“I’d pull you so close.” He stroked their red curls lovingly. “Too close. I’d leave marks on every inch of your body. Up and down your gorgeous legs. Bite marks, and bruises, covering your perfect skin. I’d make you mine. Forever.”

He inhaled shakily, registering his lover’s frozen features. His cunt pounded with want beneath them.

“Forgive me. It’s too much, I know,” he said quickly. “I won’t, darling. I won’t go too far, I swear to you.”

“Tell me what else,” they wheezed, their tone edging toward danger. “What else would you do, angel? If you lost control.”

There was nothing in his mind but the truth, the one thing his body and spirit were desperate for.

“I’d have you inside me. So fucking deep inside me.”

Before he could react, Crowley had lunged, kissing him so passionately that Aziraphale nearly yelped in surprise. His legs flew widely apart and hitched on the demon’s hips, which were grinding against his. Everything about this felt phenomenally right, right in a way that the order of Creation had been building toward for millennia.

“Yes,” he was moaning, “yes, Crowley,” slightly muffled by their own mouth engulfing his.

“Touch me, angel. Touch me. Please. I need you.”

It was an order Aziraphale could follow with all his heart, one he’d been waiting eons for. His grateful, greedy hands roamed down Crowley’s swaying sides and up their back. He pulled them in by their shoulders and ran his mouth over their chest, tasting their exalted, smoky-scented skin.

“You feel so perfect,” he was whispering into their ear. “And so delicious… Crowley, I’ve never tasted anything half as gorgeous as you…”

They were trembling again, seeming to pause, unsure if they should move. “Fuck,” they spat.

“It’s all right,” soothed Aziraphale, pulling himself back, softening his embrace. “Darling, it’s all right. I shouldn’t have - it’s perfectly all right if you want to stop.”

That half-cocked smile again. Every time, it was like the first time the angel had seen it.

“You’re a bad liar.”

“No, I swear it!” he said, though he knew his body was giving him away. “Crowley, my love…” He placed a tender hand to cup their jaw; they turned into it, inhaling deeply against his skin, closing their eyes. “You’ve never taken a thing from me I haven’t wanted to give. I vow to do the same for you.”

“Well, you’re in luck there,” they said softly. “There’s never been anything I haven’t wanted to give you.”

Aziraphale’s heart ached with the truth that rang in these words.

But his breath caught as Crowley’s hips tilted forward. He could feel their tip grazing over his pulsing lips, could feel them squeeze the hand that still cradled their face. He lifted his own hips to meet them.

“I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you,” their voice creaked out, as if it pained them to admit. “You felt so delicate.”

“I thought I felt strong, dear.” He allowed himself a slight, challenging smirk.

“Still.”

“You’ll never hurt me,” Aziraphale assured them, shameless now in his need. “ You couldn’t. I was made to be one with you, Crowley. Please, I’ve never wanted anything so badly.”

That last sentence had flown out by mistake - it was surely the type of thing to make them feel coerced, but that didn’t make it any less true. He watched them inhale deeply, give a slight nod, then press forward against him.

Aziraphale felt transformed from the moment they began sliding their way inside him. He was an entirely different being, now. A cry leapt from his throat, and he wrapped his arms fully around the demon. His mind felt wiped clean but also expanded, encompassing; his body was capable of ecstasy beyond what he’d ever dared to dream.

“Oh Crowley, oh my darling, yes - “

Their expression was one of bewilderment: mind-numbing euphoria mingling with absolute fear. They leaned their face into his, but didn’t kiss; only brushed their lips gingerly against each other.

“You okay?” they breathed.

“Yes,” he answered, nodding, feeling his face flush. “Yes. Are you?”

Crowley nodded in return. “Ungh - uh-huh.”

Aziraphale sighed, his breaths deepening. “Crowley, thank you… thank you... please, more, my love.”

At the first impact, when Crowley reached their full length inside him, they both groaned obscenely in unison, each clinging to the other as if they were all that tethered them to reality..

“Ah, fuck,” Aziraphale cried, straight into their seething mouth. “Oh Crowley, yes, again, again, please - “

They drew back and came forward, landing with a low, guttural noise a second time, their sweet breath hot on the angel’s face.

“Oh, Crowley.” He couldn’t stop, couldn’t let a moment pass without singing their endless praises. “You’re so good, you’re so good to me… My sweetest love...”

The third time came easier, Crowley’s movement smooth within his overwhelmingly slick walls. Never had a being been so welcome anywhere.

At the third impact, shoving harder, with more confidence, Aziraphale let out a shout and - he couldn’t help it - slammed his hand to the center of Crowley’s back, between their shoulder blades, and dragged his nails down over their skin. He watched them throw their head back, bite their lip, as a ripping noise sounded in the room and two black wings sprang out of them, lifting to tower overhead.

“Oh,” gasped Aziraphale. The demon was trembling more than ever, but their wings, after standing on end for a moment, were coming to settle around the pair, a thin, feathery, but unbreakable shield for their new little world.

He pulled them close, wrapping his arms around their shoulders and bringing their face to his neck as he gaped upward.

“Look at you, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “Darling, I love you so much.”

They rocked together in this protected little pocket, Crowley’s inky, cosmically dark feathers brushing all around him. It set his whole body tingling even more than before; he ran tender kisses everywhere he could reach on his lover: their hair, their ear, their slender neck, their flexing shoulder.

“I love you,” they whispered back.

He couldn’t stop as Crowley filled him over and over. “I love you, Crowley, that’s it - oh, yes, like that, fuck, thank you Crowley, thank you…”

Crowley could have split him apart and he would have continued to keen, would have simply unfolded himself, found some new way to give himself over.

They were nodding into his praise, hands gnarled into his sides as if they were all that anchored them.

“You sure?” they finally said. “Am I…?”

“Are you what?” His legs caressed up and down their narrow waist.

“Pleasing… you.”

If it were possible, he held them even tighter, his mind, body, spirit filled with nothing but the task of adoring them.

“So much. More than you can imagine, Crowley. Oh, my love… I’ve had you a thousand times in my mind, but I never dreamed it would be like this.”

They shook their head. “No. Me neither. ‘M just not sure… what to do.”

Aziraphale could have melted. “Just love me, Crowley.”

They relaxed at his words, leaning into him, teeth grazing up to nibble on the skin of his earlobe.

Their hands found his and spread his arms straight out to the sides, resting the weight of theirs on top.

“I can’t believe I’m in bed with you,” he nearly sobbed. Their wings were all he could see; the sweet, green-apple scent of their hair was all he could breathe.

Crowley brought their face to his again, kissing deeply. Aziraphale’s hips were twitching, willing them to slam into him again; he bit their lip gently, trying to concentrate and drawing the sweetest groan from the demon.

“Crowley… oh Crowley, never leave me.”

They shook their head fully side to side, nose nuzzling against his. “Won’t. Angel. Mmmhhh…”

“Please,” he said again. “Be stronger than me. Be better than me. Never leave me, Crowley.”

They drove their face against the side of his neck with another thrust; their voice was a low, savage growl against his skin. “There’s nothing better than you, angel.”

They drew back, a familiar look in their eyes, the outlines of an idea forming.

“No way to get it wrong?” they checked again.

“Every way to get it right,” he affirmed, meaning every syllable.

Crowley nodded and found one of his broad hands with theirs; they pulled it down, past their ribs, past their hipbones, past where they joined - around their waist to their tight buttocks. They planted him there, squeezing their hand over his, showing how they wanted to be held.

His other hand flew down to mirror it and gathered their ass in both, moaning with the glory he felt.

“You’re so perfect,” he moaned. “Every part of you is - so - perfect.” Unconsciously, his arms pulled them further forward into him, but judging by their answering moan, Crowley seemed to love it just as much.

“I love your hands,” they whispered, and let themself be guided back and forth in them, fingers knotting in Aziraphale’s hair as their torso pulled away just slightly, allowing for a deeper angle.

“You feel so beautiful,” he said helplessly. “I was made for this, to hold you, Crowley, to love you…”

That look was back on their face - curiosity battling with apprehension.

“What is it?” He smiled easily up at them. “What would you like, darling? What can - unngh - what can I give you?”

Again their hand reached back to meet his, and slowly brought his fingers up to their curling mouth, dragging them inside. Aziraphale’s three fingers left outside stroked lovingly along their cheeks and down their chin as the demon sucked, running their tongue between them, coating them in saliva. They let their eyes fall shut as if relishing the taste of his skin.

“Crowley… mmf, your mouth is such a miracle.” Somewhere in the back of his mind, he made a note that he must switch his presentation sometime soon, must feel that tender tunnel around an angelic cock.

When they were satisfied with the slickness of his fingers they guided him back down by the wrist, and instead of placing him on their smooth skin again they pulled his fingers toward the center, grazing in between the cheeks.

“Yes, my love,” Aziraphale breathed. “You want me inside you, as well? You would grant me entrance here?”

“Everywhere,” they managed. “Fuck, angel…”

His wide fingers were eager, but cautious. He explored up and down Crowley’s crack, passing over their throbbing hole, still gently sliding them in and out of him with the other hand.

“Stop teasing,” Crowley whined, their voice high, their face screwed up.

“Wasn’t aware that I was,” Aziraphale smiled. “Do you know… that seeing you want, Crowley… to see you so open… You are the most beautiful sight in all the universe.”

His fingers settled on the hole in the center, dragging in little circles upon it, gauging their reaction. It was unmistakable - their breath caught, their back arched, their hands gripped his shoulders for support as their mouth fell open.

“There, angel. There.”

Completely awestruck, Aziraphale obeyed, working in his circles until a fingertip dipped inside; again, unmistakably, he was being invited further in.

Crowley was so warm inside, clenching on his middle finger. Aziraphale could see a rosy blush raking up their skin, filling their chest and all the way up their neck, nearly as red as their hair.

“My love,” he was groaning. “My love, oh, fuck - you love it, don’t you?” He could feel them responding inside him, their cock stretching even further.

Crowley seemed incapable of words, but goosebumps raised along their arms and neck at his purring voice. Their spine arched further, pulling his finger nearly fully in as they pressed against his cunt.

“You love it,” he repeated. It was low and breathless, possibly more to himself, possibly out of pure awe. “I… I’m pleasuring you, Crowley, aren’t I? How does it feel?”

He moved his finger gently, coaxing back and forth, continuing his circles inside.

Their effort to form words was clear on their face; their hips were starting to move independently of his hand, working into him over and over.

“Never - wanna - stop,” they choked. “I - I trust you.”

The words flew out of them seemingly without effort, as if carried through them by the wind. That this was the coherent thought in their mind was going to make Aziraphale’s heart burst from his ribcage.

They drove against him, then back onto his fingers, starting to let out their own moans with each impact. He could have stared up at them for the rest of eternity.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. “You’re so - Crowley - ah - “

Their new vigor, their engorging within him, the angle of their hips, thrusting so deep inside of him -

“Oh fuck, oh - Crowley - how are you - how are you doing that?”

His back was beginning to arch off of the bed as well; Crowley’s twitching hand came to grope along his neck. The blue eyes squeezed shut with the overwhelming thrills rocking through him, but not before he caught the yellow boring into them like a snake eyeing a fieldmouse.

Centuries upon centuries of want, and he could finally feel himself building toward a release.

“Just - like that, Crowley, yes - “

His finger shoved in as deep as it could go, his other knuckles rolling around the outside of Crowley’s rim, rousing a long cry from the demon. They gathered speed, pulling out only so slightly before driving forth again.

“Aziraphale, Aziraphale - “

His eyes flew open, watching their lips form around his name. It sounded like utter music coming from them.

“Oh, your voice,” he managed adoringly.

“Az - Aziraphale - my angel, my fucking angel - “

They’d never called him that before.

His body was warming uncontrollably, he could feel it in his chest, flooding down his arms to his hands, of which the free one was grappling up Crowley’s back, desperate to feel as much of them as it could.

“Again, please, my name - your voice, Crowley, please - “

The pounding down below was enough to drive everything from his mind. They dove down upon him, their faces an inch apart, filling his vision, kissing his mouth, his jaw, his cheeks, and in between - “A-zir-a-phale, my angel, Aziraphale... I fucking love you.”

It was like the birth of stars. Aziraphale felt he was condensing in on himself, then - exploding.

“Ah, ahhhh! Crowley, Crowley!”

He drove up against them, straight into their arms, which held him surprisingly steady as he rode this wave. With a fwoomp he felt his own wings fly out against the bed, spreading beneath him, lifting out to wrap around Crowley’s.

He could only hear himself spill out cries and profuse thanks until, finally, he could catch his breath. His whole body was trembling, his limbs locked around the demon, who was moving faster than ever.

“Yes - darling - join me, let go…”

“Aziraphale,” they hissed in his ear, a slight snarl underneath. “My angel, my - my - “

With a deep growl from between their teeth he felt them release inside him, and this was nearly even better than his own - to feel Crowley swell and spill within him, to see that gorgeous look on their face again, even more ardent this time now that they were together.

Their ragged gasps were all Aziraphale could hear, though underneath he was cooing to them, encouraging them. “My beautiful darling, that’s it, my love… That’s so wonderful, darling, thank you… You’re so precious to me…”

They fell down upon him, still hard inside, and he withdrew the hand from their ass, miracling it fully fresh and clean before stroking his fingers through their hair. Their head came to rest on his chest, their ear directly over his pounding heart.

“I can never say it enough, Crowley. I can never tell you how good you are to me. How grateful I am for you. I would let you do… anything to me.”

Crowley untangled themself from down below and turned to the side, curling up across the angel’s body, letting themself be held while they shuddered..

“I love you so much,” cooed Aziraphale. “It’s all right, my dearest. You’re perfectly safe, my love. I’ve got you. It’s all right.”

Crowley lifted their head, and there was something in their eyes, as if the hard exterior they worked constantly to craft were cracking, letting their tender molten core seep through. Aziraphale had seen it before, more times than the demon would have ever admitted to, but this time was new, somehow. As if they were allowing him a glimpse into uncharted territory within them, peeling back a layer that had been cemented shut.

“I…”

It was all they said before curling closer into Aziraphale; the red hair grazed against his chin as Crowley nestled their face down into his collarbone.

“My love,” whispered the angel, cradling them as if they were the most precious thing in Creation, the first and last thing he’d been given charge to protect.

Because they were.

He rocked them gently on the bedsheets and realized they were trembling again. The hand on his shoulder was still digging in as if afraid he might fly away.

“What is it, darling?” He planted a kiss on top of their head.

Crowley shook their head, only clung closer to Aziraphale.

“I’ll hold you forever if that’s what you want,” he said gently. “There’s no pleasure in the world, Crowley, my dear. There’s no sweetness, there’s no joy, if I’m not sharing it with you. You don’t know what you’ve given me, and not just today... I’ll never be able to repay you.”

“D’you know how it feels,” Crowley mumbled, facing down Aziraphale’s chest so the angel had to strain to hear. “Six thousand years of… darkness, and misery.”

“You were always too good for them all.” It was a whisper, but a sure, swift one, arms flexing around them.

“You were… the only thing that…” Crowley took a deep breath. “And the only time you’re allowed to touch anyone is when you’re, you’re… hurting them. Or lying to them. Or they’re hurting you.”

The realization was like glass shattering over Aziraphale’s head, and the thought of anyone hurting this most precious of beings was a shard piercing his heart.

Of course.

“Is that why you were afraid, my love?” he asked breathlessly.

Crowley started to nod, then shake their head. “I dunno.”

The tears that had already been bubbling so close to the surface were brimming around his eyes, starting to trickle freely down his cheeks. He felt at a loss.

“I will never hurt you,” he breathed. “I swear it, I vow to you, my darling.”

He kept one arm secure around them while the other hand stroked lightly up and down their back. Crowley seemed to relax, uncoil just slightly, at his touch.

“I will treat you,” he went on, “like finest silk. Like the rarest of jewels. Crowley, I will spend my life making you safe, giving you anything you want… As you’ve done for me, my love. You deserve…”

He trailed off. To tell the demon they deserved better than what they’d been given was such a farce of the truth. They deserved to have never been cast out of Heaven. They deserved a seat at the highest table, in a class all their own. They deserved to be free. They deserved to dance gleefully between their stars for eternity; they deserved nothing but joy and lightness of being.

“You deserve more than this universe can offer,” he croaked. “Than I can offer.”

Slowly, Crowley was reaching to hold him in return. “You were my only…” they started again. “You were the only thing that ever felt good to me, angel. I knew you weren’t gonna…” They cleared their throat. “I knew. S’why I trusted you.”

Where there once would have been righteous, holy anger, Aziraphale felt his body filling with a solid, immovable resolve. He stroked them lovingly, with the care he would always take, and spoke blessings of protection over the demon.

“I pledge my guardianship to you,” he whispered, “as Angel of the Eastern Gate.”

“‘Course, that means,” Crowley said wryly, “all it takes is one wayward snake to dash it all apart.”

Aziraphale smiled. “As long as they’re mine.”

They stayed wrapped together until the sky went dark, then lightened again. More passion came, and more tenderness, and more assuredness that their bodies were as meant for each other as their souls were.

The next morning they walked arm in arm to get Aziraphale some crepes, sharing an umbrella against the drizzling rain. Crowley had never minded the droplets on their skin, but wanted to be close to the angel, and knew he wanted them there as well.

He never wanted them out of arm’s reach, again.