Happy Holidays, Stella_polaris!
Title: A Little Holiday
Gift recipient: stella_polaris
Author: trinityblack
Summary: Aziraphale decides it’s time to take a holiday. Crowley decides to join him. It is basically just PWP with a very basic attempt at a plot.
Rating: NC-17
Author's notes: Thank you so much to ‘noodles’ (she knows who she is) for the beta on this. I still think it is a little disjointed jumping from one scene to the next but she doesn’t agree… whatever. Also I’m really looking forward to how all these fics turn out. Well, with that I’ll leave you to it… enjoy.
“How strange - bumping into an angel like you in a place like this,” Crowley said to the aforementioned angel.
“It would be even stranger had you not known I was coming here already,” Aziraphale replied with only a slight tone of disapproval. Crowley just made a low noise of agreement. Aziraphale cocked his head to one side thoughtfully, “Why are you here anyway?”
It may be worth pointing out at this point that ‘here’ was not London - the usual hangout of a certain angel and demon pair - ‘here’ was a little tea shop in a nondescript village in Yorkshire.
“Coffee, of course,” Crowley replied. As he did so he gestured towards the waiter currently bringing over two mugs of frothy looking coffee. The waiter did this despite the fact that no such service had ever been employed at the teashop before, and despite the fact that the tea shop didn’t even have one of those machines used to make frothy coffees.
After the waiter (formally known as the till boy) had deposited the coffees, Aziraphale commented, “It’s a long way to come for coffee.”
“Then I wanted to make sure you didn’t drink much tea on your holiday. It can’t be good for you, you know?” Crowley replied with a smirk. This was about the same time Aziraphale noticed that his pot of tea had completely disappeared.
“So you’ve invited yourself along then?” Aziraphale asked, reading between the lines of Crowley’s comment (something he was getting much better at of late). As an afterthought Aziraphale added, “I was enjoying that, by the way”
Crowley waved off the angel’s concerns for his tea with a lazy hand gesture. “Do you know the last time I had a holiday?” Crowley asked. Seeing that Aziraphale was about to answer, he continued, “I know you do really, it was you know… rhetoric. You don’t mind do you?”
Aziraphale thought briefly about whether or not he minded Crowley accompanying him - but at the look of what could only be described as fear of being Sent Home - he decided that it would only be a little inconvenience and he should just put up with the demon. Then he realized Crowley was actually waiting for a response, which was unusual in itself as Crowley liked inviting himself to things*, and shook his head.
“Well that’s settled then. Now, drink your coffee we’re going for a walk,” Crowley replied, his natural confidence obviously restored.
Aziraphale looked up towards the flower patterned ceiling and wondered exactly what he had got himself in for.
* This was normally because of the free buffets.
* * * * *
It took twenty minutes for Aziraphale to do as he had been told and drink his coffee. However, this meant that when it came for them to leave the shop Crowley was bored. For letting him get bored (whilst on holiday, no less) Crowley decided not to tell Aziraphale he was sporting a froth moustache.
“Now what?” Crowley asked in his best impetuous child tone.
“A walk, you said,” Aziraphale replied, Crowley’s tone just bouncing off him.
“Yeah, well… That was before I realised we were in the middle of nowhere,” Crowley replied. “Should have noticed though, what with all the sheep blocking the road.”
“Honestly, anyway, a walk will still be nice,” Aziraphale said with a smile.
* * * * *
It was only an hour into his holiday but Crowley had just about had enough. He didn’t do nice. Worse still, all amusement at the angel’s moustache had vanished seven and a half* minutes into the walk. This was due to the fact he had licked his lips and discovered the offending cream. He then had looked questioningly at Crowley as if asking if he knew it was there. In his defence, Crowley had done his best to look innocent, but it just wasn’t a look that a demon could do all that well.
Watching the angel lick his lips however had given Crowley an idea for a whole new game. Although the game was a work in progress, it was loosely titled Tempt That Angel Into Doing Something He’ll Regret. It seemed as though it would be an amusing game but it was hard to play on a moor, much like those in that Bronte novel the angel liked. Or the song about the book that Crowley could vaguely recall. All that really mattered was the fact that the moors weren’t the best places for tempting, even for a master like Crowley.
Anyway, the plan, so far, involved getting the angel drunk - vast quantities of experience told Crowley that drunken people did stupid things. Angry people also did stupid things but Crowley didn’t think he could make the angel really angry. Not really worth it when he could get him drunk. Now, Crowley didn’t exactly think that T.T.A.I.D.S.H.R. was one of his better plans, nor did he think his name for it was particularly snappy… Aziraphale’s voice interrupted his thoughts before they could progress further, “Are you always this slow?” … but it would be put into action. And soon, Crowley decided as he stepped in his third cowpat of the morning**.
*Not that Crowley had been counting or anything like that.
**Crowley had been counting those.
* * * * *
The room was typical Aziraphale - that is to say small, cosy and looking like it belonged in the early 70’s. There was a little desk in the corner, which somehow Aziraphale had already managed to clutter with various papers and a couple of books. A double bed took up most of the space in the room, and its cover… well, it didn’t only defy description, it was quite possibly the most visually offensive thing in the room. There wasn’t a chance in hell - or wherever - that Crowley was staying in a room that looked like this. That was a problem easily rectified however, regardless of the disapproving look from the angel, when he took it into his own hands to do so. The bed suddenly seemed a lot smaller*, as the room made room for a modern-looking, glass table, big enough for two, and a 2-seater sofa under the window. Aziraphale’s desk remained untouched and outdated (Crowley didn’t dare incur the wrath of the angel where his books were concerned).
“Drinks?” Aziraphale asked, gesturing to a couple of bottles of wine now in place on Crowley’s table.
“Sounds great,” Crowley replied. It was all too easy.
* It wasn’t. It was just a trick of the room more than doubling in size.
* * * * *
Crowley was still surprised as the angel’s lips met his own. Neither of them moved further and the kiss became one of pressure alone. Crowley had no idea what he wanted to do; did he move this along or pull back now? It was Aziraphale, however, who made the next decision, he pulled back slowly from Crowley and looked at him. Then Aziraphale cocked his head just ever so slightly to one side with a look of concentration that was impressive given the amount of alcohol he had consumed. Crowley just looked back; he wondered exactly what was going through the angel’s mind. It was at this point Crowley realised, that his plan formed earlier in the day seemed to have worked perfectly, and it was only half a second later he realised he hadn’t really wanted it to. He didn’t want this to become a regret for Aziraphale, which he was almost certain it would be.
Crowley’s thoughts went from worry to panic as the angel moved in for another kiss. Who would have thought that a kiss could ruin a ‘friendship’ of a thousand years? Crowley certainly didn’t think it as Aziraphale’s lips met his own in a series of feather light kisses; but that was mainly because Crowley wasn’t thinking a great deal of anything. Then the feather light kisses stopped, Aziraphale’s lips remained in contact with Crowley’s own. To his own surprise, it was Crowley who moved first - he opened his lips to run his tongue along Aziraphale’s bottom lip. The angel soon took the hint and opened his own mouth in response-- who moved first after that would probably be the subject of discussions for years to come. Their tongues slid over each other in a frantic attempt to explore each other’s mouths. Crowley ran his hands up and down the Aziraphale’s back in an attempt to pull the angel even closer to him. It was impossible; a sheet of paper would have difficulty in fitting between the pair. Aziraphale’s hands tangled themselves in Crowley’s dark hair, causing the demon to moan deeply into the kiss. Even as Crowley’s moan still reverberated around their mouths it was joined by one of Aziraphale’s own - caused by Crowley’s hand finally finding its way inside Aziraphale’s shirt. The next thing Crowley knew was that the kiss had stopped. The warmth of Aziraphale’s lips covering his own was gone and Crowley missed it.
Not stopped, just moved , Crowley thought as Aziraphale began to gently kiss his neck. Aziraphale’s kisses traced a path up along his (angular) jawbone towards his ear. There seemed to be the briefest of hesitations before Crowley’s ear was subjected to a gentle bite. Crowley let out a breath of air he hadn’t even known he had been holding. He would have swore on just about anything at that moment that Aziraphale had a wicked smirk on his face, not that he could see it; he could just tell.
Then Aziraphale stopped his assault on Crowley’s ear and pulled back. Both were panting slightly breathlessly as they parted. Aziraphale reached towards Crowley. For a second, Crowley thought he was going to pull him in for another kiss but there was no such luck - Aziraphale gently removed Crowley’s sunglasses before tossing them to the sofa in the corner of the little room.
That wasn’t good, Crowley now found himself looking straight into the angel’s eyes, which had always been the most beautiful and distracting thing he could think of. However, Crowley could see that Aziraphale was looking into his eyes with the same searching expression. Crowley wanted to tell him to stop, that it wasn’t meant to go this far, he hadn’t planned it. No words would come, though; he could still taste the kisses they had just shared - honey and cinnamon, with just a small hint of alcohol - the taste of angels, Crowley supposed. Then Aziraphale licked his lips, (what did he taste?) and Crowley had found a new most distracting thing. It seemed impossible that so much of his attention could be concentrated on such a small area, only it was. And Aziraphale had noticed. A smirk played on Aziraphale’s lips, Crowley could tell it was the kind of smirk that was meant to be mocking him, angels should not do that. Nor should angels be turning demons on in little rooms above pubs in Yorkshire (they are supposed to be sexless after all) but an uncomfortable sensation around Crowley’s groin was currently testament to how good angels were at the aforementioned activity.
All thoughts Crowley possessed on not touching Aziraphale again whilst they were slightly inebriated vanished as Aziraphale’s eyebrow rose questioningly. Crowley, of course, took this to mean that Aziraphale wanted to return to their previous activities and was happy to oblige. It hadn’t seemed possible but the kisses, this time, were more intense. Crowley was somewhat pleased to note that the angel was completely not sexless at all, and was currently also in a state of wriggling discomfort. However, that could also have been due to Crowley running his nails down the length of Aziraphale’s back.
Aziraphale then did yet another thing leaving Crowley wondering exactly who was in charge of this plan (because it didn’t seem to be him); he pushed off Crowley’s expensive looking outer jacket and threw it to the floor. Normally this would annoy Crowley immensely but presently Aziraphale’s hands were attempting to undo Crowley’s shirt buttons, which basically meant he didn’t give a damn. The only thing Crowley noted that he actually did care about was Aziraphale being greatly over-dressed, which given he was still wearing his over jacket (apparently it kept him warm while they were walking), he was. It didn’t take long though before Crowley had managed to rid Aziraphale of not only the jacket but his shirt, as well. By the same time Crowley’s shirt was also completely undone and hanging off his shoulders, which did nothing but add to the dishevelled look caused by Aziraphale’s hands moving through his hair.
Crowley decided it would only be fair if he took the next step, unsure still if Aziraphale knew what came next. Slowly, perhaps too slowly, Crowley teased open the button of Aziraphale’s jeans and followed it with a strong tug on the fly. Now that he had access to Aziraphale, he slipped his hand inside his underwear and began to stroke rhythmically. A sharp intake of breath from Aziraphale was his reward. Encouraged by the positive response so far, Crowley began to suck at Aziraphale’s neck. “Fuck… Crowley,” Aziraphale said through gritted teeth. The sound of such language from Aziraphale was almost enough to make Crowley stop what he was doing. Almost. Instead he gently nudged Aziraphale towards the bed behind him. Luckily, Aziraphale got the hint and pulled Crowley down on top of him when he felt the bed pressing into his calves.
The sudden change in position gave Crowley the perfect excuse to explore Aziraphale’s body. His tongue began to trace a path from the angel’s neck, across the pale, perfect expanse of his collarbone and down towards his nipple, yet the whole time his hand never stopped the slow, yet insistent strokes along Aziraphale’s erection. The result so far was that the usually verbose angel had been reduced to a series of animalistic moans by a simple touch from his demonic counterpart.
It was Aziraphale’s turn for his hand to wander. At first, Crowley suspected that he just wanted something to hold on to but as his hands made it into the waistband of Crowley’s trousers he realised something entirely different was afoot. However, Crowley wasn’t going to deny his angel anything so he obliged by briefly releasing his hold on Aziraphale and removing his own trousers. Almost as an afterthought, he decided that Aziraphale’s trousers deserved the same treatment and they joined his on the floor, leaving the breathtaking sight of naked, flustered angel spread over the bed. Instead of continuing his exploration where he left off Crowley decided that at that moment nothing in the world looked as appetising as the hollow behind Aziraphale’s left knee. Except, perhaps, his erect cock, hard and waiting for him; well, he could only do so many things at once and Aziraphale seemed to be enjoying his current treatment immensely. When Crowley began to move, just ever so slightly, upwards, Aziraphale began to squirm. “Want… please… now,” Aziraphale panted. Crowley took the opportunity as a chance to look up at Aziraphale, any smirk he had planned was replaced solely by desire at the sight of the hungry look in Aziraphale’s eyes.
Crowley could tell without looking that Aziraphale had thrown his head back with pleasure the second he felt Crowley’s mouth warm around him. Crowley slowly pulled his head upwards, running his tongue along Aziraphale’s length as he did so. As Crowley reached the tip he fully tasted just how close Aziraphale was to coming and swirled his tongue to capture as much of the taste as he could. “Cr..Crowley, you… come here…” Aziraphale gasped as Crowley began to couple the action of his mouth with a massage of his balls. Then Aziraphale’s words registered in Crowley’s brain, reluctantly he released Aziraphale and slithered up the bed to meet the angel face to face. Aziraphale took the opportunity to kiss Crowley deeply, any gentleness from earlier kisses gone; replaced by carnal desire to close any remaining gap between the pair. Crowley felt Aziraphale shift beneath him, then with a shove to the shoulder found himself pinned under the angel. Crowley’s shirt, the only item of clothing either of them was wearing, was crumpled beneath Aziraphale’s hands as he began to move them up and down Crowley’s sides. Now it was Crowley’s turn to make guttural noises and, as Aziraphale took his erection in his hand for the first time, he more than answered Aziraphale’s noises of a few minutes earlier.
Crowley, however, found he could hardly bear to not be touching Aziraphale and he resumed his teasing of Aziraphale’s cock. “No…” Aziraphale gasped, “I want… to come inside you.” While Crowley was a little surprised at the angel’s demand he willingly parted his legs to give him access.
“Soon, I can’t hold this much longer,” Crowley admitted. Aziraphale responded almost immediately by entering a finger inside Crowley. Crowley felt his eyes roll back in to his head at the sheer sensation of it all. Without time for him to recover, though, the finger was joined by a second. Crowley’s hips bucked in response wanting more, deeper, harder and a million other things besides, yet all still to be given by Aziraphale. No one else could ever come close, Crowley knew at that point with a certainty that frightened him. “Please… angel…” Crowley begged.
Aziraphale looked at Crowley, the fire of passion burning in his eyes, and planted another heated kiss to the demon’s neck. Then Crowley felt Aziraphale’s fingers leave… surely this was it. Then he was proved right as Aziraphale thrust his whole length inside him. Both angel and demon groaned at the feel of the closeness between them even as Aziraphale pulled out to start his second stroke. The speed of their dance continued to rise, reaching a pace at which both were mumbling nonsensically into each others’ mouths. “Oh God… Crowley…” Aziraphale shouted when both were close to climax. With the simple, and ever so slightly blasphemous shout, Crowley was tipped over the edge, his come being released in between their bodies. The tightening and releasing of his all his muscles caused Aziraphale to follow his lead, still buried deep inside Crowley as he did so.
Afterwards the pair lay, limbs entwined, neither showing any really inclination to move for fear of breaking the growing bond between them. Aziraphale rest his head gently in the crook of Crowley’s neck. Marvelling at the sight of those golden curls so close Crowley could do nothing but plant a gentle kiss on Aziraphale’s head. He noticed then that he could feel the angel’s responding smile against his chest - something which produced a similar expression on Crowley’s own face. “Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, with a somewhat sleepy sounding tone to his voice.
“Hmm,” Crowley responded, unwilling to break the silent peace that hung over them.
“I think my plan worked perfectly, you know?” Aziraphale said innocently.
“Hmm,” Crowley replied sleepily, “perfect.” He then felt himself drifting off to sleep as Aziraphale began to trace small circles on his exposed chest. It took a couple of minutes for Crowley to realise exactly what had just been said. Looking down at the angel in his arms (or trying to - it was an awkward angle) he asked, “What plan?”
No answer came, apart from a single quiet snore from a sleeping angel.
Happy Holidays, stella_polaris from your Secret Writer!
Gift recipient: stella_polaris
Author: trinityblack
Summary: Aziraphale decides it’s time to take a holiday. Crowley decides to join him. It is basically just PWP with a very basic attempt at a plot.
Rating: NC-17
Author's notes: Thank you so much to ‘noodles’ (she knows who she is) for the beta on this. I still think it is a little disjointed jumping from one scene to the next but she doesn’t agree… whatever. Also I’m really looking forward to how all these fics turn out. Well, with that I’ll leave you to it… enjoy.
“How strange - bumping into an angel like you in a place like this,” Crowley said to the aforementioned angel.
“It would be even stranger had you not known I was coming here already,” Aziraphale replied with only a slight tone of disapproval. Crowley just made a low noise of agreement. Aziraphale cocked his head to one side thoughtfully, “Why are you here anyway?”
It may be worth pointing out at this point that ‘here’ was not London - the usual hangout of a certain angel and demon pair - ‘here’ was a little tea shop in a nondescript village in Yorkshire.
“Coffee, of course,” Crowley replied. As he did so he gestured towards the waiter currently bringing over two mugs of frothy looking coffee. The waiter did this despite the fact that no such service had ever been employed at the teashop before, and despite the fact that the tea shop didn’t even have one of those machines used to make frothy coffees.
After the waiter (formally known as the till boy) had deposited the coffees, Aziraphale commented, “It’s a long way to come for coffee.”
“Then I wanted to make sure you didn’t drink much tea on your holiday. It can’t be good for you, you know?” Crowley replied with a smirk. This was about the same time Aziraphale noticed that his pot of tea had completely disappeared.
“So you’ve invited yourself along then?” Aziraphale asked, reading between the lines of Crowley’s comment (something he was getting much better at of late). As an afterthought Aziraphale added, “I was enjoying that, by the way”
Crowley waved off the angel’s concerns for his tea with a lazy hand gesture. “Do you know the last time I had a holiday?” Crowley asked. Seeing that Aziraphale was about to answer, he continued, “I know you do really, it was you know… rhetoric. You don’t mind do you?”
Aziraphale thought briefly about whether or not he minded Crowley accompanying him - but at the look of what could only be described as fear of being Sent Home - he decided that it would only be a little inconvenience and he should just put up with the demon. Then he realized Crowley was actually waiting for a response, which was unusual in itself as Crowley liked inviting himself to things*, and shook his head.
“Well that’s settled then. Now, drink your coffee we’re going for a walk,” Crowley replied, his natural confidence obviously restored.
Aziraphale looked up towards the flower patterned ceiling and wondered exactly what he had got himself in for.
* This was normally because of the free buffets.
* * * * *
It took twenty minutes for Aziraphale to do as he had been told and drink his coffee. However, this meant that when it came for them to leave the shop Crowley was bored. For letting him get bored (whilst on holiday, no less) Crowley decided not to tell Aziraphale he was sporting a froth moustache.
“Now what?” Crowley asked in his best impetuous child tone.
“A walk, you said,” Aziraphale replied, Crowley’s tone just bouncing off him.
“Yeah, well… That was before I realised we were in the middle of nowhere,” Crowley replied. “Should have noticed though, what with all the sheep blocking the road.”
“Honestly, anyway, a walk will still be nice,” Aziraphale said with a smile.
* * * * *
It was only an hour into his holiday but Crowley had just about had enough. He didn’t do nice. Worse still, all amusement at the angel’s moustache had vanished seven and a half* minutes into the walk. This was due to the fact he had licked his lips and discovered the offending cream. He then had looked questioningly at Crowley as if asking if he knew it was there. In his defence, Crowley had done his best to look innocent, but it just wasn’t a look that a demon could do all that well.
Watching the angel lick his lips however had given Crowley an idea for a whole new game. Although the game was a work in progress, it was loosely titled Tempt That Angel Into Doing Something He’ll Regret. It seemed as though it would be an amusing game but it was hard to play on a moor, much like those in that Bronte novel the angel liked. Or the song about the book that Crowley could vaguely recall. All that really mattered was the fact that the moors weren’t the best places for tempting, even for a master like Crowley.
Anyway, the plan, so far, involved getting the angel drunk - vast quantities of experience told Crowley that drunken people did stupid things. Angry people also did stupid things but Crowley didn’t think he could make the angel really angry. Not really worth it when he could get him drunk. Now, Crowley didn’t exactly think that T.T.A.I.D.S.H.R. was one of his better plans, nor did he think his name for it was particularly snappy… Aziraphale’s voice interrupted his thoughts before they could progress further, “Are you always this slow?” … but it would be put into action. And soon, Crowley decided as he stepped in his third cowpat of the morning**.
*Not that Crowley had been counting or anything like that.
**Crowley had been counting those.
* * * * *
The room was typical Aziraphale - that is to say small, cosy and looking like it belonged in the early 70’s. There was a little desk in the corner, which somehow Aziraphale had already managed to clutter with various papers and a couple of books. A double bed took up most of the space in the room, and its cover… well, it didn’t only defy description, it was quite possibly the most visually offensive thing in the room. There wasn’t a chance in hell - or wherever - that Crowley was staying in a room that looked like this. That was a problem easily rectified however, regardless of the disapproving look from the angel, when he took it into his own hands to do so. The bed suddenly seemed a lot smaller*, as the room made room for a modern-looking, glass table, big enough for two, and a 2-seater sofa under the window. Aziraphale’s desk remained untouched and outdated (Crowley didn’t dare incur the wrath of the angel where his books were concerned).
“Drinks?” Aziraphale asked, gesturing to a couple of bottles of wine now in place on Crowley’s table.
“Sounds great,” Crowley replied. It was all too easy.
* It wasn’t. It was just a trick of the room more than doubling in size.
* * * * *
Crowley was still surprised as the angel’s lips met his own. Neither of them moved further and the kiss became one of pressure alone. Crowley had no idea what he wanted to do; did he move this along or pull back now? It was Aziraphale, however, who made the next decision, he pulled back slowly from Crowley and looked at him. Then Aziraphale cocked his head just ever so slightly to one side with a look of concentration that was impressive given the amount of alcohol he had consumed. Crowley just looked back; he wondered exactly what was going through the angel’s mind. It was at this point Crowley realised, that his plan formed earlier in the day seemed to have worked perfectly, and it was only half a second later he realised he hadn’t really wanted it to. He didn’t want this to become a regret for Aziraphale, which he was almost certain it would be.
Crowley’s thoughts went from worry to panic as the angel moved in for another kiss. Who would have thought that a kiss could ruin a ‘friendship’ of a thousand years? Crowley certainly didn’t think it as Aziraphale’s lips met his own in a series of feather light kisses; but that was mainly because Crowley wasn’t thinking a great deal of anything. Then the feather light kisses stopped, Aziraphale’s lips remained in contact with Crowley’s own. To his own surprise, it was Crowley who moved first - he opened his lips to run his tongue along Aziraphale’s bottom lip. The angel soon took the hint and opened his own mouth in response-- who moved first after that would probably be the subject of discussions for years to come. Their tongues slid over each other in a frantic attempt to explore each other’s mouths. Crowley ran his hands up and down the Aziraphale’s back in an attempt to pull the angel even closer to him. It was impossible; a sheet of paper would have difficulty in fitting between the pair. Aziraphale’s hands tangled themselves in Crowley’s dark hair, causing the demon to moan deeply into the kiss. Even as Crowley’s moan still reverberated around their mouths it was joined by one of Aziraphale’s own - caused by Crowley’s hand finally finding its way inside Aziraphale’s shirt. The next thing Crowley knew was that the kiss had stopped. The warmth of Aziraphale’s lips covering his own was gone and Crowley missed it.
Not stopped, just moved , Crowley thought as Aziraphale began to gently kiss his neck. Aziraphale’s kisses traced a path up along his (angular) jawbone towards his ear. There seemed to be the briefest of hesitations before Crowley’s ear was subjected to a gentle bite. Crowley let out a breath of air he hadn’t even known he had been holding. He would have swore on just about anything at that moment that Aziraphale had a wicked smirk on his face, not that he could see it; he could just tell.
Then Aziraphale stopped his assault on Crowley’s ear and pulled back. Both were panting slightly breathlessly as they parted. Aziraphale reached towards Crowley. For a second, Crowley thought he was going to pull him in for another kiss but there was no such luck - Aziraphale gently removed Crowley’s sunglasses before tossing them to the sofa in the corner of the little room.
That wasn’t good, Crowley now found himself looking straight into the angel’s eyes, which had always been the most beautiful and distracting thing he could think of. However, Crowley could see that Aziraphale was looking into his eyes with the same searching expression. Crowley wanted to tell him to stop, that it wasn’t meant to go this far, he hadn’t planned it. No words would come, though; he could still taste the kisses they had just shared - honey and cinnamon, with just a small hint of alcohol - the taste of angels, Crowley supposed. Then Aziraphale licked his lips, (what did he taste?) and Crowley had found a new most distracting thing. It seemed impossible that so much of his attention could be concentrated on such a small area, only it was. And Aziraphale had noticed. A smirk played on Aziraphale’s lips, Crowley could tell it was the kind of smirk that was meant to be mocking him, angels should not do that. Nor should angels be turning demons on in little rooms above pubs in Yorkshire (they are supposed to be sexless after all) but an uncomfortable sensation around Crowley’s groin was currently testament to how good angels were at the aforementioned activity.
All thoughts Crowley possessed on not touching Aziraphale again whilst they were slightly inebriated vanished as Aziraphale’s eyebrow rose questioningly. Crowley, of course, took this to mean that Aziraphale wanted to return to their previous activities and was happy to oblige. It hadn’t seemed possible but the kisses, this time, were more intense. Crowley was somewhat pleased to note that the angel was completely not sexless at all, and was currently also in a state of wriggling discomfort. However, that could also have been due to Crowley running his nails down the length of Aziraphale’s back.
Aziraphale then did yet another thing leaving Crowley wondering exactly who was in charge of this plan (because it didn’t seem to be him); he pushed off Crowley’s expensive looking outer jacket and threw it to the floor. Normally this would annoy Crowley immensely but presently Aziraphale’s hands were attempting to undo Crowley’s shirt buttons, which basically meant he didn’t give a damn. The only thing Crowley noted that he actually did care about was Aziraphale being greatly over-dressed, which given he was still wearing his over jacket (apparently it kept him warm while they were walking), he was. It didn’t take long though before Crowley had managed to rid Aziraphale of not only the jacket but his shirt, as well. By the same time Crowley’s shirt was also completely undone and hanging off his shoulders, which did nothing but add to the dishevelled look caused by Aziraphale’s hands moving through his hair.
Crowley decided it would only be fair if he took the next step, unsure still if Aziraphale knew what came next. Slowly, perhaps too slowly, Crowley teased open the button of Aziraphale’s jeans and followed it with a strong tug on the fly. Now that he had access to Aziraphale, he slipped his hand inside his underwear and began to stroke rhythmically. A sharp intake of breath from Aziraphale was his reward. Encouraged by the positive response so far, Crowley began to suck at Aziraphale’s neck. “Fuck… Crowley,” Aziraphale said through gritted teeth. The sound of such language from Aziraphale was almost enough to make Crowley stop what he was doing. Almost. Instead he gently nudged Aziraphale towards the bed behind him. Luckily, Aziraphale got the hint and pulled Crowley down on top of him when he felt the bed pressing into his calves.
The sudden change in position gave Crowley the perfect excuse to explore Aziraphale’s body. His tongue began to trace a path from the angel’s neck, across the pale, perfect expanse of his collarbone and down towards his nipple, yet the whole time his hand never stopped the slow, yet insistent strokes along Aziraphale’s erection. The result so far was that the usually verbose angel had been reduced to a series of animalistic moans by a simple touch from his demonic counterpart.
It was Aziraphale’s turn for his hand to wander. At first, Crowley suspected that he just wanted something to hold on to but as his hands made it into the waistband of Crowley’s trousers he realised something entirely different was afoot. However, Crowley wasn’t going to deny his angel anything so he obliged by briefly releasing his hold on Aziraphale and removing his own trousers. Almost as an afterthought, he decided that Aziraphale’s trousers deserved the same treatment and they joined his on the floor, leaving the breathtaking sight of naked, flustered angel spread over the bed. Instead of continuing his exploration where he left off Crowley decided that at that moment nothing in the world looked as appetising as the hollow behind Aziraphale’s left knee. Except, perhaps, his erect cock, hard and waiting for him; well, he could only do so many things at once and Aziraphale seemed to be enjoying his current treatment immensely. When Crowley began to move, just ever so slightly, upwards, Aziraphale began to squirm. “Want… please… now,” Aziraphale panted. Crowley took the opportunity as a chance to look up at Aziraphale, any smirk he had planned was replaced solely by desire at the sight of the hungry look in Aziraphale’s eyes.
Crowley could tell without looking that Aziraphale had thrown his head back with pleasure the second he felt Crowley’s mouth warm around him. Crowley slowly pulled his head upwards, running his tongue along Aziraphale’s length as he did so. As Crowley reached the tip he fully tasted just how close Aziraphale was to coming and swirled his tongue to capture as much of the taste as he could. “Cr..Crowley, you… come here…” Aziraphale gasped as Crowley began to couple the action of his mouth with a massage of his balls. Then Aziraphale’s words registered in Crowley’s brain, reluctantly he released Aziraphale and slithered up the bed to meet the angel face to face. Aziraphale took the opportunity to kiss Crowley deeply, any gentleness from earlier kisses gone; replaced by carnal desire to close any remaining gap between the pair. Crowley felt Aziraphale shift beneath him, then with a shove to the shoulder found himself pinned under the angel. Crowley’s shirt, the only item of clothing either of them was wearing, was crumpled beneath Aziraphale’s hands as he began to move them up and down Crowley’s sides. Now it was Crowley’s turn to make guttural noises and, as Aziraphale took his erection in his hand for the first time, he more than answered Aziraphale’s noises of a few minutes earlier.
Crowley, however, found he could hardly bear to not be touching Aziraphale and he resumed his teasing of Aziraphale’s cock. “No…” Aziraphale gasped, “I want… to come inside you.” While Crowley was a little surprised at the angel’s demand he willingly parted his legs to give him access.
“Soon, I can’t hold this much longer,” Crowley admitted. Aziraphale responded almost immediately by entering a finger inside Crowley. Crowley felt his eyes roll back in to his head at the sheer sensation of it all. Without time for him to recover, though, the finger was joined by a second. Crowley’s hips bucked in response wanting more, deeper, harder and a million other things besides, yet all still to be given by Aziraphale. No one else could ever come close, Crowley knew at that point with a certainty that frightened him. “Please… angel…” Crowley begged.
Aziraphale looked at Crowley, the fire of passion burning in his eyes, and planted another heated kiss to the demon’s neck. Then Crowley felt Aziraphale’s fingers leave… surely this was it. Then he was proved right as Aziraphale thrust his whole length inside him. Both angel and demon groaned at the feel of the closeness between them even as Aziraphale pulled out to start his second stroke. The speed of their dance continued to rise, reaching a pace at which both were mumbling nonsensically into each others’ mouths. “Oh God… Crowley…” Aziraphale shouted when both were close to climax. With the simple, and ever so slightly blasphemous shout, Crowley was tipped over the edge, his come being released in between their bodies. The tightening and releasing of his all his muscles caused Aziraphale to follow his lead, still buried deep inside Crowley as he did so.
Afterwards the pair lay, limbs entwined, neither showing any really inclination to move for fear of breaking the growing bond between them. Aziraphale rest his head gently in the crook of Crowley’s neck. Marvelling at the sight of those golden curls so close Crowley could do nothing but plant a gentle kiss on Aziraphale’s head. He noticed then that he could feel the angel’s responding smile against his chest - something which produced a similar expression on Crowley’s own face. “Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, with a somewhat sleepy sounding tone to his voice.
“Hmm,” Crowley responded, unwilling to break the silent peace that hung over them.
“I think my plan worked perfectly, you know?” Aziraphale said innocently.
“Hmm,” Crowley replied sleepily, “perfect.” He then felt himself drifting off to sleep as Aziraphale began to trace small circles on his exposed chest. It took a couple of minutes for Crowley to realise exactly what had just been said. Looking down at the angel in his arms (or trying to - it was an awkward angle) he asked, “What plan?”
No answer came, apart from a single quiet snore from a sleeping angel.
Happy Holidays, stella_polaris from your Secret Writer!