(no subject)
Recipient: jenlittlebottom
Title: Persuasion
Rating: R/NC-17
Summary: The ultimate conflict is discussed in a new way
Author's Notes: Written for the prompt "slammed against a wall - strange pairing(s) a plus". Hope this is strange enough... Warnings for the big three: sex, language, and violence.
The moment that Crowley answered his door, he was picked up and slammed against the vestibule wall by an enraged archangel.
“Just what in God’s name do you think you were doing in Wimpole Street today, demon?”
“Tempting,” gasped Crowley. Breathing wasn’t required for him, of course, but talking without any air was fairly difficult. Vocal chords expected it.
The angel growled. “The banker you persuaded to embezzle was caught and arrested.” He removed his hand from Crowley’s throat to pin the demon’s shoulders.
Looking puzzled, Crowley rasped, “So what’s the problem? Justice was served. Evil was smote… smitten… whatever.”
Smash!
His back met the wall again. A spot between his wing muscles was really starting to ache and he flopped limply, knowing that tensing up would only make his injuries worse.
“His wife found out,” snarled the angel, “and killed herself.”
Although it hurt, Crowley shrugged, shoulders scraping up and down the wall. “It happens.”
Smash!
“She was a good, devout woman.”
The demon sneered. “Not good enough, apparently.”
Cerulean eyes flashed and Crowley found himself hauled up and crushed against the opposite wall.
“What the fuck do you want me to do about it, Gabriel?” he asked, wincing. “It’s my job. If I don’t do it I’ll get in trouble and they’ll just send someone else. That guy was going to embezzle anyway. It was just a matter of when.”
Gabriel crumpled, defeated, and laid his head on Crowley’s shoulder as he held the demon up. “I know,” he whispered. “It’s just so frustrating watching them make the same bad decisions over and over again.”
Crowley brought his legs up and hooked them around Gabriel’s waist to hold his weight as he started to unbutton the angel’s shirt. Their time was so limited that they had to make the best of it. “You may have seen people make these kind of mistakes before, but it hasn’t been these exact people. Maybe they just all need to find out for themselves.”
“But what does that solve?” the angel cried, tugging off Crowley’s jacket. “Six thousand years of individuals making the same poor decisions has done nothing to advance their lot as a species. Now they just have more destructive ways to make the same mistakes.”
“Shut the fuck up,” snapped Crowley. “Don’t you dare question the Plan. You don’t get to do that.” He yanked off Gabriel’s belt and pulled his trousers open.
Gabriel’s eyes widened as his hands worked down the fabric covering the demon’s chest. “Watch your language,” he spat back. “I’m not questioning the Plan. His part in it is perfect, of course. It’s just these humans taking advantage of the free will that you gave them.”
“I'll fucking say whatever the fuck I want to fucking say,” replied Crowley heatedly, miracling away both of their trousers and underpants. “I'm so sorry if it offends your delicate fucking sensibilities, angel.” He stuttered slightly as the angel slid deep inside him, but continued to talk. “I... I don't regret showing Eve how to take free will. But I hardly gave it to her. The more I think about it, though, the more I think I was used. It wasn't evil that gave humans free will. I had none at the time, myself. I was directed by Lucifer to cause trouble and there was only one rule, so what else could I have done? I had no other choice. And He set it up that way. With the one rule. Knowing that Lucifer would try to get the humans to break it. Without free will, the creatures were so stupid that they believed everything they were told. It was hardly a challenge. Easiest temptation I've ever had, but it earned me a good rep. Nevertheless, it was all a set-up. I still don't regret it, though. Makes them a damn sight more interesting. Even if they keep making the same mistakes, it's always a little different, the outcomes are usually unpredictable.”
Gabriel, supporting the demon's weight as he moved slowly beneath and inside him, replied after a moment's thought. “But you're just repeating what Aziraphale was telling us the last time we went to his place for dinner. It's ineffable, so don't bother trying to understand it. I... ah... just keep thinking that there must a better explanation, though. One that doesn't rely on the idea of Him being whimsical.”
Moaning slightly and grinning, Crowley said, “Was that the time when he went off to get more wine and returned so quietly that we didn't hear him come in and he caught us right in the middle of...”
“No,” interrupted Gabriel, with a forceful thrust. “That was the time before. And don't change the subject.”
It was a pretty effective method of getting Crowley to shut up. One that Gabriel had perfected over centuries. Still, it never lasted long. “Ungh... You're the jealous one that brought him up. But if you want me to stay on topic, I'll ask you what the fuck makes you think He's not whimsical? Is there anything in the whole bloody universe that suggests in any way that he's not? Keep in mind now, that His orchestration of events allowed for reality shows, platypode*, and France.”
*Yes, platypode is the correct plural of platypus. How Crowley knows this will forever remain a mystery.
Gabriel allowed himself a small smile as his movements quickened. “Envy is a sin. But I will confess to a slight disapp...oh...ointment that he gets to see you much more often than I do. You two are just so comfortable around each other. As for the other, I'd hardly blame reality shows on Him. That's to do with free will and influence from your lot. Same with France, really. And perhaps the platypus was an experiment in environmental niches? But there are so many beautiful things in the world, like sunsets and music. And so many terrible things, like torture and poverty. None of those things are whimsical.”
“Funny,” Crowley gasped, bending his knees and leaning farther back, “that's exactly what he said about you and me. But think about it. Individual concepts may not be whimsical, but taken as a whole, to allow all of this to happen, good and evil, free will, the Fall, the other Fall, cruelty, love, all of it points to someone who is really fucking bored. He's playing a galactic video game just because He can. We're His pawns and there's not a damn thing we can do about it. Even rebelling against Him is part of His little plan. It doesn't matter what we do, there's no... way... out.” The demon's frustration was building as was his tension and something needed to give soon before the wall did.
“You can't really think that,” said Gabriel tightly. “He's the Creator. He is the ultimate Good. He would not have created the world, the humans, or us, if He didn't think it wasn't important and necessary. It's not a game. If there's anything I'm certain of, it's that. Do you really feel so trapped?”
Crowley snarled. “Yesss. I don't like anyone having control over my actions or decisions. And of course you think that way, angel. You were made to think that way. You have no fucking choice in the matter. If you ever decided to think another way, you'd be punished and still made to do things. It's a... ah... a bloody racket is what it is.”
“But if He didn't exist, you'd have no place to do the things you wanted to do, no choices to decide between, and no you to be.”
“Yeah, well you, you, YOU...! You have a point there...” Crowley slumped against Gabriel's shoulder.
“Aah... and of course, creation would be a lo...ho...t less interesting without conflict...” Gabriel paused a moment, eyes closed, before carefully lifting Crowley off and setting him down. It was the first time the demon's feet had touched the ground since the angel had entered the flat. For a moment, they stared into each other's eyes before moving as one into a soft, intimate kiss.
“I love you,” confessed Gabriel resting his forehead on Crowley's.
“I know,” replied the demon quietly. It was what they had always said. And they both knew what they meant.
For a long, silent moment they held each other's trembling, fragile, human bodies.
Then Crowley smiled mischievously against the angel's skin. “I guess there's something to be said for a little conflict, at least...”
Title: Persuasion
Rating: R/NC-17
Summary: The ultimate conflict is discussed in a new way
Author's Notes: Written for the prompt "slammed against a wall - strange pairing(s) a plus". Hope this is strange enough... Warnings for the big three: sex, language, and violence.
The moment that Crowley answered his door, he was picked up and slammed against the vestibule wall by an enraged archangel.
“Just what in God’s name do you think you were doing in Wimpole Street today, demon?”
“Tempting,” gasped Crowley. Breathing wasn’t required for him, of course, but talking without any air was fairly difficult. Vocal chords expected it.
The angel growled. “The banker you persuaded to embezzle was caught and arrested.” He removed his hand from Crowley’s throat to pin the demon’s shoulders.
Looking puzzled, Crowley rasped, “So what’s the problem? Justice was served. Evil was smote… smitten… whatever.”
Smash!
His back met the wall again. A spot between his wing muscles was really starting to ache and he flopped limply, knowing that tensing up would only make his injuries worse.
“His wife found out,” snarled the angel, “and killed herself.”
Although it hurt, Crowley shrugged, shoulders scraping up and down the wall. “It happens.”
Smash!
“She was a good, devout woman.”
The demon sneered. “Not good enough, apparently.”
Cerulean eyes flashed and Crowley found himself hauled up and crushed against the opposite wall.
“What the fuck do you want me to do about it, Gabriel?” he asked, wincing. “It’s my job. If I don’t do it I’ll get in trouble and they’ll just send someone else. That guy was going to embezzle anyway. It was just a matter of when.”
Gabriel crumpled, defeated, and laid his head on Crowley’s shoulder as he held the demon up. “I know,” he whispered. “It’s just so frustrating watching them make the same bad decisions over and over again.”
Crowley brought his legs up and hooked them around Gabriel’s waist to hold his weight as he started to unbutton the angel’s shirt. Their time was so limited that they had to make the best of it. “You may have seen people make these kind of mistakes before, but it hasn’t been these exact people. Maybe they just all need to find out for themselves.”
“But what does that solve?” the angel cried, tugging off Crowley’s jacket. “Six thousand years of individuals making the same poor decisions has done nothing to advance their lot as a species. Now they just have more destructive ways to make the same mistakes.”
“Shut the fuck up,” snapped Crowley. “Don’t you dare question the Plan. You don’t get to do that.” He yanked off Gabriel’s belt and pulled his trousers open.
Gabriel’s eyes widened as his hands worked down the fabric covering the demon’s chest. “Watch your language,” he spat back. “I’m not questioning the Plan. His part in it is perfect, of course. It’s just these humans taking advantage of the free will that you gave them.”
“I'll fucking say whatever the fuck I want to fucking say,” replied Crowley heatedly, miracling away both of their trousers and underpants. “I'm so sorry if it offends your delicate fucking sensibilities, angel.” He stuttered slightly as the angel slid deep inside him, but continued to talk. “I... I don't regret showing Eve how to take free will. But I hardly gave it to her. The more I think about it, though, the more I think I was used. It wasn't evil that gave humans free will. I had none at the time, myself. I was directed by Lucifer to cause trouble and there was only one rule, so what else could I have done? I had no other choice. And He set it up that way. With the one rule. Knowing that Lucifer would try to get the humans to break it. Without free will, the creatures were so stupid that they believed everything they were told. It was hardly a challenge. Easiest temptation I've ever had, but it earned me a good rep. Nevertheless, it was all a set-up. I still don't regret it, though. Makes them a damn sight more interesting. Even if they keep making the same mistakes, it's always a little different, the outcomes are usually unpredictable.”
Gabriel, supporting the demon's weight as he moved slowly beneath and inside him, replied after a moment's thought. “But you're just repeating what Aziraphale was telling us the last time we went to his place for dinner. It's ineffable, so don't bother trying to understand it. I... ah... just keep thinking that there must a better explanation, though. One that doesn't rely on the idea of Him being whimsical.”
Moaning slightly and grinning, Crowley said, “Was that the time when he went off to get more wine and returned so quietly that we didn't hear him come in and he caught us right in the middle of...”
“No,” interrupted Gabriel, with a forceful thrust. “That was the time before. And don't change the subject.”
It was a pretty effective method of getting Crowley to shut up. One that Gabriel had perfected over centuries. Still, it never lasted long. “Ungh... You're the jealous one that brought him up. But if you want me to stay on topic, I'll ask you what the fuck makes you think He's not whimsical? Is there anything in the whole bloody universe that suggests in any way that he's not? Keep in mind now, that His orchestration of events allowed for reality shows, platypode*, and France.”
*Yes, platypode is the correct plural of platypus. How Crowley knows this will forever remain a mystery.
Gabriel allowed himself a small smile as his movements quickened. “Envy is a sin. But I will confess to a slight disapp...oh...ointment that he gets to see you much more often than I do. You two are just so comfortable around each other. As for the other, I'd hardly blame reality shows on Him. That's to do with free will and influence from your lot. Same with France, really. And perhaps the platypus was an experiment in environmental niches? But there are so many beautiful things in the world, like sunsets and music. And so many terrible things, like torture and poverty. None of those things are whimsical.”
“Funny,” Crowley gasped, bending his knees and leaning farther back, “that's exactly what he said about you and me. But think about it. Individual concepts may not be whimsical, but taken as a whole, to allow all of this to happen, good and evil, free will, the Fall, the other Fall, cruelty, love, all of it points to someone who is really fucking bored. He's playing a galactic video game just because He can. We're His pawns and there's not a damn thing we can do about it. Even rebelling against Him is part of His little plan. It doesn't matter what we do, there's no... way... out.” The demon's frustration was building as was his tension and something needed to give soon before the wall did.
“You can't really think that,” said Gabriel tightly. “He's the Creator. He is the ultimate Good. He would not have created the world, the humans, or us, if He didn't think it wasn't important and necessary. It's not a game. If there's anything I'm certain of, it's that. Do you really feel so trapped?”
Crowley snarled. “Yesss. I don't like anyone having control over my actions or decisions. And of course you think that way, angel. You were made to think that way. You have no fucking choice in the matter. If you ever decided to think another way, you'd be punished and still made to do things. It's a... ah... a bloody racket is what it is.”
“But if He didn't exist, you'd have no place to do the things you wanted to do, no choices to decide between, and no you to be.”
“Yeah, well you, you, YOU...! You have a point there...” Crowley slumped against Gabriel's shoulder.
“Aah... and of course, creation would be a lo...ho...t less interesting without conflict...” Gabriel paused a moment, eyes closed, before carefully lifting Crowley off and setting him down. It was the first time the demon's feet had touched the ground since the angel had entered the flat. For a moment, they stared into each other's eyes before moving as one into a soft, intimate kiss.
“I love you,” confessed Gabriel resting his forehead on Crowley's.
“I know,” replied the demon quietly. It was what they had always said. And they both knew what they meant.
For a long, silent moment they held each other's trembling, fragile, human bodies.
Then Crowley smiled mischievously against the angel's skin. “I guess there's something to be said for a little conflict, at least...”