Chapter Text
Ever since they had become US, Aziraphale had been on a roll and treated Crowley like he was the most precious thing in the world. The demon certainly didn't mind receiving attention, not after 6000 years of complicity, furtive glances and above all... misunderstandings. However he wasn't used to it. Perhaps he had been too presumptuous to desire such great love; now that he had obtained it, now that he could get lost in the eyes of his angel and even kiss him, he was scared. He was scared of those overflowing feelings, especially of himself.
The last time they'd gone to the Ritz and gotten drunk, things had quickly spiraled out of control; their hands had intertwined over the white tablecloth, their feet had looked for each other under the table and the looks they had exchanged, oh that look full of burning stars and desire. As soon as they got into the car, Crowley drove to the nearest dark alley and kissed the angel so passionately that it left him breathless. With his hands, he had reached every inch of his body covered in layers of useless fabric. Aziraphale was unexpectedly compliant, he hadn't put up any resistance, not even when those hands had moved from the soft nape to the exposed neck... he limited himself to looking Crowley straight in his eyes, as if daring him to tighten his grip. At that moment the demon's heart was filled with dark feelings: regret, frustration, blame? Why? All this was immediately replaced by something else, if possible even more frightening and burning: possessing his angel, caging him, making sure that he could never run away from him. Crowley was assailed by the certainty that if he had not stopped at that precise moment, the monster inside his chest would have devoured Aziraphale.
So he had put the seat upright and took the angel home. Sensing how upset he was, Aziraphale had not investigated, but since then he had begun to behave strangely. He took his hand in public, was bold in his words and was always the first to seek him out, even in intimacy. While Crowley was trying to put some physical distance to keep the monster at bay, this bold new angel was giving him a hard time.
Crowley couldn't resist him for long, he had to clear up his repressed feelings before they exploded uncontrollably. At the same time, there was something else strange, which he couldn't explain, something that Aziraphale was hiding from him.
They were back to square one. They weren't communicating.
That evening Crowley wanted to get naked (not literally, but eventually), so he had asked the angel to have dinner in the library, to be alone, without distractions. To create the most relaxed atmosphere between them, and to admire the angel's beautiful smile before tackling thorny topics, he brought some gifts: two bottles of Chianti, some caviar and some chocolate-covered strawberries (the latter was actually a smart move) would certainly have helped both of them expose their feelings.
However, Crowley had not foreseen that his generosity would be counterproductive, because instead of tongues, that had released all inhibitions.
Aziraphale had set a table for them and lit some candles, which made Crowley's heart skip straight to that night in 41, when the angel's gaze had been so sweet, when their feelings had overflowed for the first time. This certainly didn't help.
After dinner Crowley had removed all traces of alcohol in his blood and had moved to the sofa as a precaution, but Aziraphale didn’t do the same and moreover did not want to keep his distance from him, any distance.
He was so beautiful, so bright and so drunk.
Without any warning, he sat down astride his legs and began to thank him for dinner, showered him with compliments (which normally made Crowley's chest explode) and stared at him with languid eyes full of love. Clarifications be damned.
«Shut up and Kiss Me.» Crowley said, opening the door to a road of no return.
Everything he wanted to say, his worries, his paranoia, his doubts, were erased by the heat of the angel's mouth, by the taste of chocolate on his tongue, which moved without hesitation and shamelessly, playing unexpected games.
Crowley caught his breath only for a moment, realizing that Aziraphale was crossing an unwritten line, a line they had not yet crossed and that was… dangerous. How could he stop the angel's insatiable desire? He himself didn't have the strength, he just wanted to melt in his mouth. Crowley welcomed the soft touch of his tongue again, while the angel's hands cradled his face, caressed his hair; Aziraphale stood communicating with his body, he didn't need words.
He was telling how much he wanted him, that he felt safe in his arms, that after millennia he finally wanted to let go and consummate their forbidden love. It was clear, so clear that Crowley would have cried for the trust that the angel was giving him after the violent passion of the last time in the car. He would have cried and knelt at his feet giving his heart and soul, screaming to the whole world how much he loved him, if he hadn't been so damn excited.
He suppressed a moan of pleasure as the angel moved his hips and twisted his tongue, Crowley’s fingers betrayed him, he couldn't stop himself from caressing Aziraphale's strong back, reaching down, squeezing those round buttocks that were right there to entice him.Crowley's mind was now as white as a sheet of paper, he let Aziraphale continue to suck away, together with his tongue, every shred of resistance he had left.
Sensing the result of his commitment pressing in his lower parts, Aziraphale suddenly stopped and turned around, even mocked him; that little bastard was proud to see how little was enough to get him excited... was he really that naive? Didn't he realize what effect it had on him?
Even just being able to touch his hand, open the car's door for him, save him from a prison or a group of Nazis, in the past had aroused unspeakable sensations in Crowley's heart, let alone EVERYTHING he was now doing to him. Holding him, feeling the weight of him, the enveloping desire of him, it was just too much, Crowley wouldn't hold back much longer.
It was all so perfect and overwhelming that not even in his wildest fantasies, the demon would have imagined that one day he would find himself in that situation. Seriously, Aziraphale was so uninhibited and experienced, so different from the shy angel who had REJECTED him more than once over the centuries… where had he learned to do such things? Not with him, certainly not him... here again, that feeling that he wanted to suppress but which had returned more burning than ever, was it jealousy? The mere thought that Aziraphale had experienced this sort of thing with some human drove him crazy. Didn't he say that he attended a club of distinguished gentlemen to learn to dance? Maybe it had happened on that occasion? No, absolutely not. He had to erase that terrible image from his head before it ruined the moment.
While Crowley tried to put his absurd and possessive thoughts in order, Aziraphale gave him no respite, that evening he wanted to destroy every shred of his resistance: his hands moved quickly, slid down and felt the bulge in Crowley's pants with shocking ease. While he was fiddling with the belt, Aziraphale shot him furtive glances to gauge his reaction and keeping his gaze glued to Crowley, moved on to undoing the buttons and pulling down the zip.
Crowley held his breath the entire time, mesmerized by those determined eyes and the sly smile that made his heart pound like a thousand drums. That heart risked completely leaving his chest, when the angelic hand achieved its goal, taking possession of his manhood, so turgid that it almost hurt.
«What are you doing, Angel?» Finally the demon's voice re-emerged rasping from the depths of his throat, only to return there at the second soft touch, which caressed him firmly.
«Isn't it obvious? I'll give you some relief, it's my fault if your earthly body had this reaction, you taught me how to do in the thermal baths of ancient Rome, don't you remember?» Aziraphale whispered in a low, melodious voice.
Clear images piled up in the demon's mind... of course, of course he remembered: the innocent blush on the angel's face at the discovery of what was happening in his private parts, while he had cleverly taken the opportunity to push him a little further with his morals, teaching him to give himself pleasure to "ease the discomfort".
Had he really dared to do such a thing two thousand years ago?
And how had he survived for so long with the memory of what happened next?
Simple, he had put it aside, like every moment of fleeting shared intimacy, to survive the reality of the facts: his feelings would never be reciprocated, his desires would remain unfulfilled.
And instead? The reality was turning out to be even better than his imagination, because those timid hands were now sliding confidently along his shaft, flooding him with new sensations that burned in his chest like the flames of hell.
«You taught me to take care of myself when this type of involuntary reaction followed… sinful thoughts. Well, I won't hide from you that over the centuries your teaching has been useful... every time you showed up with skimpy clothes, loose hair, exposed collarbones, or well... much more often than I'd like to admit.»
The thought that his angel had masturbated while thinking about him, drove Crowley to the edge... it was an unspeakably erotic thing, and to confess it in his ear, while touching him, oh... for Satan's sake. He had to stop it immediately.
«Angel, did you only do it on yourself or did you... help others like you are doing now?» Why the hell was his mouth talking to itself? Why did he free those thoughts that were not at all connected with his intention to immediately distance himself?
«Ever and never. My every thought of love and lust has always been directed towards you, especially... after that night of '41, Crowley. You awakened a fire that left me with no escape and no path to redemption.» Aziraphale's hand held him trapped in lustful pleasure, while his words filled him with divine love. How could he ask him to stop? Yet Crowley wanted to understand the source of his bold behavior, he wanted to know why he was confessing these things at such a time, as if he later had no time or opportunity to do so.
«I thought you regretted kissing me that night... why are you telling me now?… oh» Aziraphale was licking his neck, reaching a spot particularly sensitive behind the ear. If he wanted to further distract him, he was succeeding very well. Although the desire to cage the angel burned even more than before, the one trapped was the demon... unable to oppose what was happening too quickly.
«Angel… wait, if you continue like this, I might…»
Aziraphale continued to move his hand slowly, from bottom to top, then pressed on the tip and waited, until Crowley gasped.
«You are so beautiful, you are so perfect, don't blame yourself for what you want, we have human bodies, I want it as much as you.»
Aziraphale's attitude was disarming, there was an urgency in him very similar to what Crowley had felt in the car. After so many years of waiting, Crowley also wanted to move on, to experience all kinds of earthly pleasures with him, but not until things between them were completely clear, not until he understood what was strange about his angel, the reason why he was rushing ahead as if they had no tomorrow.
«Angel, there's an impulse that comes over me, I could do something to you that... I can't control myself...» He managed to say in one breath.
«You don't have to hold back, I accept what you are, your impulses, your nature, I'm not afraid, I want you as you are, I've never wished anything else.» Those words were balm to the demon's ears.
For some reason they made his eyes sting. Could someone so close to orgasm be so close to tears?
«Angel, stop, it's not just that, there's something... want to... ask you»
Crowley closed his eyes overcome by a rush of pleasure as the soft hand teased him faster and faster.
«Only if you… call me by my name.» Murmured the tempter angel in his ear.
It was an order, and Crowley could only obey that order, he was his slave. He always had been.
«Azira… phale…» He managed to gasp, while the master of his life started kissing him again.