Happy Holidays, refche!
Title: What A World
For: refche
From: slowsunrise
Pairing: Crowley/Aziraphale
Rating: NC-17
Summary: [AU] Crowley is a book thief, on his way to steal a book from his old kinda-sort-of-friend Aziraphale, but the man has other plans for the thief.
He knew he should get down to work. His boss had demanded a very special book, and he knew what would happen to him if he disobeyed. But Crowley had never really been one for following the rules, not the world's nor his master's. So he sat out on the roof of a three-story building looking into the house on the other side of the street, at the man who sat by the window reading a book in the warm light emitted from a candle.
Of course it had to be one of his books. He should have known that it would be one of Aziraphale's books when he had been sent to this part of town, but yet he had sneaked up through the dark town's back alleys and up to the warehouse's roof only to find said book collector on the other side of the street.
Groaning, he massaged his temples, pushing up his dark sunglasses to his forehead. This was going to be troublesome. Usually, his faked charm combined with some subtle hints of threats would do the job for him and he would walk away whistling, his wanted book under his arm. The trade of book thievery was a good one since there was always some old, bordering to antique collector who looked for books even older than themselves and they were often willing to pay good money for them.
Crowley had started his career early: pickpocketing watches and wallets from rich men in in his teens and then he had started to climb the career ladder, getting into bigger and grander heists. He had been young, brave and a little stupid when he had accepted the plan to rob a bank down the main street. There had been explosions, weapons and suddenly lots of polices. Panic had ensued and in the middle of it, some C4 had went of, blowing Crowley through a window. His body had slammed against a concrete wall in an alley behind the bank and there he had been left. The police had been too busy catching the brains behind the action and hadn't bothered checking out who the nineteen-year old crashed in a dumpster was, but a man in a white suit passing by shook his head when he saw him.
The blond man was at least a couple of years older than Crowley and if the thief had any good judgement, his expensive-looking suit and the pocket watch the black haired man caught a glimpse off meant that he had money and probably lots of it. A grin found its way to his injured face as a pale hand was extended towards him. Crowley loved when the opportunities came to him.
However, the man proved himself different than Crowley had first thought. His name was Aziraphale and his goal in life was to help people, people like himself. That, and read all books ever written, or something like that.
Personally, Crowley didn't see anything wrong with living the life he lead. He could care less about laws and bullshit as long as he could do what he wanted, but this Aziraphale seemed to be some kind of saint sent to earth to help poor little buggers like himself.
He let Crowley live with him for some time, and despite that the thief still nicked money, valuable books and everything his could get his slim fingers on, he always forgave Crowley. He had no idea where all Aziraphale's patience came from but the source was never-ending.
After some time, Crowley found himself where he never thought he would be; bordering on the Good side, so he packed his things together and left without a word. He contemplated to leave a note at least saying 'Thank you', but he came to the conclusion that he was too nice already. When Aziraphale came back to his apartment he noticed with once that Crowley was gone and shook his head. He searched the different rooms for a note or a letter, but found nothing. But at the same time, he found out that nothing was missing either.
***
Some odd years had passed since and Crowley was back in the dark business, even though he nowadays knew the difference between a mind blowing plan and a foolish one. Although, he was beginning to think that this very one was quite foolish.
Using the fire exits and a rope he always carried with him, Crowley was climbing outside the walls of Aziraphale's apartment. A window that didn't lead into the library was swiftly opened by skilled fingers and in Crowley climbed. At least he had the advantage of knowing the place inside and out since Aziraphale didn't seem like the one to be the one for changes.
He tiptoed through the hallway, painfully obvious to every tiny sound he made. Crowley looked around, searching the many book cases. If he was lucky, the book he was after would be placed somewhere on the shelves that covered most of the walls, and well if he was not, the he'd have to somehow get into the library where Aziraphale was reading.
He cursed under his breath when he found noting of interest and glared at the door that lead into the lion's den. And how was he supposed to avert the man's attention when he had his nose glued into one of his books. Crowley knew by experience that it was a near impossible task.
Then, the hallway was lit up, the lamps suddenly switched on. Crowley's thin body froze and slowly, slowly he turned his head towards the now opened door and the man in the white suit who leaned against the door post.
“Welcome back, my dear. You couldn't have bothered using the front door?”
Putting a smile on his face, Crowley pushed up his sunglasses further on the bridge of his nose.
“Nice to see you, Azi. But hey, why can't you like get a TV or something so I can sneak in hear without you hearing me? Books don't make awful lot of noises you know.”
Aziraphale smiled and took his glasses and a white rag from his back pocket and began to polish them, eyes off Crowley.
“I find television very educating. Every time somebody turns on the set, I go into the other room and read a book.”
“Books, yes...”, Crowley muttered and started walking towards Aziraphale. Stopping inches away, he placed a hand on the very door post the blond was supporting himself against and leaned in. “You wouldn't mind if I borrowed one of yours, kinda permanently, would you?”
Placing his glasses on the tip of his nose again, Aziraphale turned around and stepped back into his beloved library, Crowley following him.
“You never change.”, the older man sighed, but Crowley wasn't late to shoot back at him.
“Neither do you,”
“Well, sometimes that can be a good thing”, Aziraphale smiled and grabbed the collar of the raven's leather jacket to pull him into a kiss. Crowley hesitated for a second before he grinned against the other's lips. He might have made do fine without Aziraphale's constant nagging about doing good and doing right, but he had missed the temptation and the giving in to do this. And it seemed like his former guardian didn't mind it terrible much either, his hands unzipping Crowley's black leather jacket. Fingertips were roaming over his chest, sneaking their way under his t-shirt. Tanned skin covering a trained set of muscles were exposed meanwhile Crowley tried to work the buttons of Aziraphale's light pink shirt. The fabric was soft and expensive looking and a small handmade logo made Crowley hesitant to simply rip it apart.
In good time, all of their clothes but their underwear were disposed of and they were stumbling on their way to the bed room. Books was everywhere; not only on the shelves, but on chairs, on the various coffee tables and in piles on the floor. A few times before they reached the promised bed, Crowley broke their lingering kiss to curse out loud because his toes had slammed into a large Swedish to French dictionary or an anthology over the mythological creatures from Greece.
“Always so eager, my dear...”, Aziraphale mumbled under his breath when the raven pushed him down on the bed, and followed eagerly. There were no lights switched on in the room, but the street lights shone in through the window illumination the bed room with dark colours. Aziraphale leaned on his elbows and looked up at the hoovering body that was Crowley.
“Can I help it?”, he grinned as a response before he tugged at the waistband of Aziraphale's tartan briefs, pulling them off and tossing them to the floor. His action drew an uncharacteristic growl from the back of the blond's throat when his erection was freed.
“It's been a while indeed, Azi...” Crowley said as he claimed the other one's mouth once again, his hand following a well known path down the pale, smooth body. A faint smile appeared on the book collector's face before it twisted in pleasure when tanned fingers found their way around his shaft, Slowly stroking while the thumb slowly caressed the head.
“Oh, you're so tense~”, Crowley hummed with appreciation. “Been a while?”, he asked before he put two fingers in his own mouth and started sucking.
“Well, you haven't been here for a few years, have you?”
The reply left Crowley still for a second in realization. He would usually have snapped with some comeback about temptation and prudes, but the fact that Aziraphale hadn't done this with anybody else made him swell with pride and more lust for the other man. Aziraphale was his own work of corruption, and with that thought, he slipped the first finger into the shivering blond.
Stretching him carefully, (probably he was too thorough, but he wanted more of that face Aziraphale made when he twisted his index finger ever so slightly), Crowley stepped out of his own boxers. After a quick search of the night stand, he found a hand crème and shrugged. They had worse.
He hissed when he coated his weeping erection with the cold crème, but as soon as his eyes met those of the man beneath him, he was fire and flames again. Nudging with his knee, Crowley opened Aziraphale's legs more and he placed himself before the entrance. After a last look at the blushing but smiling face, he went in carefully. Loud groans escaped him and the blush that painted Aziraphale's face red widened.
Those years apart, during all those years, Crowley hadn't felt anything like this. It was pure bliss and he made sure Aziraphale understood that as he moved in and out, faster and faster. Under him, his old guardian lay panting, his eyes rolled up towards heaven, and the sight just encouraged Crowley to continue.
Eventually he supported himself on one arm as he continued moving to the sound of wet, sweaty skin smacking together and grabbed Aziraphale's dick that had been without attention for to long and started pumping it along with his thrusts. A small shout became his award, and it didn't take long before Aziraphale came in Crowley's hand, smearing the seed over his stomach.
Every muscle in Aziraphale's body clenched, and the tightness that the raven already found overwhelming was for a few seconds the sweetest mix of fierce hell and heavenly paradise as he drove deep into Aziraphale and came with an animalistic growl.
***
Flicking his lighter open, he felt the yet unlit cigarette being snatched away. Turning around, he found an angry looking Aziraphale snared into the blanket.
“No smoking in here; it's bad for the books. And for you too!”, he complained and waited until Crowley surely had put the lighter away.
“What should I say? I am bad?” He changed position, jumping down a few centimetres with his arms acting like an extra pillow. “Talking about books however. It seems like we got a bit overwhelmed and came off-topic, but you know I'd love to have one of your books.”
“Which one?”, Aziraphale asked, massaging his own sore neck as good as he could, but when Crowley answered, he only huffed.
“That one you can have for free; not a single decent thought in it.”
Wide eyed, Crowley looked at him and crawled over to his side of the bed.
“And here I am, fucking you senseless only to have you tell me I can have the book for free. What kind of a world are we living in?”, he grinned and took over Aziraphale's massage, carefully putting pressure on the blond's sore neck. Small moans of appreciations escaped him and even though Crowley couldn't see it, he was sure Aziraphale was smiling as he said:
“A world where you're always welcome here, book thief or not.”
The End
For: refche
From: slowsunrise
Pairing: Crowley/Aziraphale
Rating: NC-17
Summary: [AU] Crowley is a book thief, on his way to steal a book from his old kinda-sort-of-friend Aziraphale, but the man has other plans for the thief.
He knew he should get down to work. His boss had demanded a very special book, and he knew what would happen to him if he disobeyed. But Crowley had never really been one for following the rules, not the world's nor his master's. So he sat out on the roof of a three-story building looking into the house on the other side of the street, at the man who sat by the window reading a book in the warm light emitted from a candle.
Of course it had to be one of his books. He should have known that it would be one of Aziraphale's books when he had been sent to this part of town, but yet he had sneaked up through the dark town's back alleys and up to the warehouse's roof only to find said book collector on the other side of the street.
Groaning, he massaged his temples, pushing up his dark sunglasses to his forehead. This was going to be troublesome. Usually, his faked charm combined with some subtle hints of threats would do the job for him and he would walk away whistling, his wanted book under his arm. The trade of book thievery was a good one since there was always some old, bordering to antique collector who looked for books even older than themselves and they were often willing to pay good money for them.
Crowley had started his career early: pickpocketing watches and wallets from rich men in in his teens and then he had started to climb the career ladder, getting into bigger and grander heists. He had been young, brave and a little stupid when he had accepted the plan to rob a bank down the main street. There had been explosions, weapons and suddenly lots of polices. Panic had ensued and in the middle of it, some C4 had went of, blowing Crowley through a window. His body had slammed against a concrete wall in an alley behind the bank and there he had been left. The police had been too busy catching the brains behind the action and hadn't bothered checking out who the nineteen-year old crashed in a dumpster was, but a man in a white suit passing by shook his head when he saw him.
The blond man was at least a couple of years older than Crowley and if the thief had any good judgement, his expensive-looking suit and the pocket watch the black haired man caught a glimpse off meant that he had money and probably lots of it. A grin found its way to his injured face as a pale hand was extended towards him. Crowley loved when the opportunities came to him.
However, the man proved himself different than Crowley had first thought. His name was Aziraphale and his goal in life was to help people, people like himself. That, and read all books ever written, or something like that.
Personally, Crowley didn't see anything wrong with living the life he lead. He could care less about laws and bullshit as long as he could do what he wanted, but this Aziraphale seemed to be some kind of saint sent to earth to help poor little buggers like himself.
He let Crowley live with him for some time, and despite that the thief still nicked money, valuable books and everything his could get his slim fingers on, he always forgave Crowley. He had no idea where all Aziraphale's patience came from but the source was never-ending.
After some time, Crowley found himself where he never thought he would be; bordering on the Good side, so he packed his things together and left without a word. He contemplated to leave a note at least saying 'Thank you', but he came to the conclusion that he was too nice already. When Aziraphale came back to his apartment he noticed with once that Crowley was gone and shook his head. He searched the different rooms for a note or a letter, but found nothing. But at the same time, he found out that nothing was missing either.
***
Some odd years had passed since and Crowley was back in the dark business, even though he nowadays knew the difference between a mind blowing plan and a foolish one. Although, he was beginning to think that this very one was quite foolish.
Using the fire exits and a rope he always carried with him, Crowley was climbing outside the walls of Aziraphale's apartment. A window that didn't lead into the library was swiftly opened by skilled fingers and in Crowley climbed. At least he had the advantage of knowing the place inside and out since Aziraphale didn't seem like the one to be the one for changes.
He tiptoed through the hallway, painfully obvious to every tiny sound he made. Crowley looked around, searching the many book cases. If he was lucky, the book he was after would be placed somewhere on the shelves that covered most of the walls, and well if he was not, the he'd have to somehow get into the library where Aziraphale was reading.
He cursed under his breath when he found noting of interest and glared at the door that lead into the lion's den. And how was he supposed to avert the man's attention when he had his nose glued into one of his books. Crowley knew by experience that it was a near impossible task.
Then, the hallway was lit up, the lamps suddenly switched on. Crowley's thin body froze and slowly, slowly he turned his head towards the now opened door and the man in the white suit who leaned against the door post.
“Welcome back, my dear. You couldn't have bothered using the front door?”
Putting a smile on his face, Crowley pushed up his sunglasses further on the bridge of his nose.
“Nice to see you, Azi. But hey, why can't you like get a TV or something so I can sneak in hear without you hearing me? Books don't make awful lot of noises you know.”
Aziraphale smiled and took his glasses and a white rag from his back pocket and began to polish them, eyes off Crowley.
“I find television very educating. Every time somebody turns on the set, I go into the other room and read a book.”
“Books, yes...”, Crowley muttered and started walking towards Aziraphale. Stopping inches away, he placed a hand on the very door post the blond was supporting himself against and leaned in. “You wouldn't mind if I borrowed one of yours, kinda permanently, would you?”
Placing his glasses on the tip of his nose again, Aziraphale turned around and stepped back into his beloved library, Crowley following him.
“You never change.”, the older man sighed, but Crowley wasn't late to shoot back at him.
“Neither do you,”
“Well, sometimes that can be a good thing”, Aziraphale smiled and grabbed the collar of the raven's leather jacket to pull him into a kiss. Crowley hesitated for a second before he grinned against the other's lips. He might have made do fine without Aziraphale's constant nagging about doing good and doing right, but he had missed the temptation and the giving in to do this. And it seemed like his former guardian didn't mind it terrible much either, his hands unzipping Crowley's black leather jacket. Fingertips were roaming over his chest, sneaking their way under his t-shirt. Tanned skin covering a trained set of muscles were exposed meanwhile Crowley tried to work the buttons of Aziraphale's light pink shirt. The fabric was soft and expensive looking and a small handmade logo made Crowley hesitant to simply rip it apart.
In good time, all of their clothes but their underwear were disposed of and they were stumbling on their way to the bed room. Books was everywhere; not only on the shelves, but on chairs, on the various coffee tables and in piles on the floor. A few times before they reached the promised bed, Crowley broke their lingering kiss to curse out loud because his toes had slammed into a large Swedish to French dictionary or an anthology over the mythological creatures from Greece.
“Always so eager, my dear...”, Aziraphale mumbled under his breath when the raven pushed him down on the bed, and followed eagerly. There were no lights switched on in the room, but the street lights shone in through the window illumination the bed room with dark colours. Aziraphale leaned on his elbows and looked up at the hoovering body that was Crowley.
“Can I help it?”, he grinned as a response before he tugged at the waistband of Aziraphale's tartan briefs, pulling them off and tossing them to the floor. His action drew an uncharacteristic growl from the back of the blond's throat when his erection was freed.
“It's been a while indeed, Azi...” Crowley said as he claimed the other one's mouth once again, his hand following a well known path down the pale, smooth body. A faint smile appeared on the book collector's face before it twisted in pleasure when tanned fingers found their way around his shaft, Slowly stroking while the thumb slowly caressed the head.
“Oh, you're so tense~”, Crowley hummed with appreciation. “Been a while?”, he asked before he put two fingers in his own mouth and started sucking.
“Well, you haven't been here for a few years, have you?”
The reply left Crowley still for a second in realization. He would usually have snapped with some comeback about temptation and prudes, but the fact that Aziraphale hadn't done this with anybody else made him swell with pride and more lust for the other man. Aziraphale was his own work of corruption, and with that thought, he slipped the first finger into the shivering blond.
Stretching him carefully, (probably he was too thorough, but he wanted more of that face Aziraphale made when he twisted his index finger ever so slightly), Crowley stepped out of his own boxers. After a quick search of the night stand, he found a hand crème and shrugged. They had worse.
He hissed when he coated his weeping erection with the cold crème, but as soon as his eyes met those of the man beneath him, he was fire and flames again. Nudging with his knee, Crowley opened Aziraphale's legs more and he placed himself before the entrance. After a last look at the blushing but smiling face, he went in carefully. Loud groans escaped him and the blush that painted Aziraphale's face red widened.
Those years apart, during all those years, Crowley hadn't felt anything like this. It was pure bliss and he made sure Aziraphale understood that as he moved in and out, faster and faster. Under him, his old guardian lay panting, his eyes rolled up towards heaven, and the sight just encouraged Crowley to continue.
Eventually he supported himself on one arm as he continued moving to the sound of wet, sweaty skin smacking together and grabbed Aziraphale's dick that had been without attention for to long and started pumping it along with his thrusts. A small shout became his award, and it didn't take long before Aziraphale came in Crowley's hand, smearing the seed over his stomach.
Every muscle in Aziraphale's body clenched, and the tightness that the raven already found overwhelming was for a few seconds the sweetest mix of fierce hell and heavenly paradise as he drove deep into Aziraphale and came with an animalistic growl.
***
Flicking his lighter open, he felt the yet unlit cigarette being snatched away. Turning around, he found an angry looking Aziraphale snared into the blanket.
“No smoking in here; it's bad for the books. And for you too!”, he complained and waited until Crowley surely had put the lighter away.
“What should I say? I am bad?” He changed position, jumping down a few centimetres with his arms acting like an extra pillow. “Talking about books however. It seems like we got a bit overwhelmed and came off-topic, but you know I'd love to have one of your books.”
“Which one?”, Aziraphale asked, massaging his own sore neck as good as he could, but when Crowley answered, he only huffed.
“That one you can have for free; not a single decent thought in it.”
Wide eyed, Crowley looked at him and crawled over to his side of the bed.
“And here I am, fucking you senseless only to have you tell me I can have the book for free. What kind of a world are we living in?”, he grinned and took over Aziraphale's massage, carefully putting pressure on the blond's sore neck. Small moans of appreciations escaped him and even though Crowley couldn't see it, he was sure Aziraphale was smiling as he said:
“A world where you're always welcome here, book thief or not.”
The End