go_exchange | Happy Holidays, notaspacealien!

Title: Not Anymore
Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley
Rating: T
Warnings/tags: implied torture, hurt/comfort, recovery, flashbacks
Summary: There is a reason Crowley doesn't show off his wings and it isn't because they are just too perfect. So, Aziraphale tries to convince him to let them out for once.

Crowley and Aziraphale relaxed in a bed in the upstairs bedroom of the bookshop. It was a long night for the both of them, one doing good for the world, and the other doing bad. Well, what you could consider bad. It was somewhere between running a yellow light and stealing candy from a baby only to return it once the baby starts crying.

“You know, is it true that Demons have better wings than Angels?” With how little the angel has seen the demon’s wings, it was difficult to see as fact.

Of course the question threw off the demon who had been explaining his evil deeds before Aziraphale pipped up. “Um... Yeah, of course they are better. You see, it is so much easier to taint someone than to fix them, so we have a lot more free time to make our wings perfect and all.” Crowley seemed to just shrug off his answer and looked at his phone. He had gotten a new one just last week by tempting the sales person to throw in a good deal in for him in exchange for a good word to his bosses. Not that he could actually do that.

“I want to see them then. I do think that my wings are far better groomed.” Crowley wondered what had Aziraphale on this track. Why was he so determined to see them all of a sudden? “Oh! Don’t tell me you are afraid?”

Afraid to show off wings? Y-Yeah… right.

“Come on! Just jump off the cliff and you’ll be flying in now time.” An angel announced. Apparently this one was a total of two days older than the new recruits. God decided to create their angels in batches in the Beginning.

“Are you crazy!? They are hardly dry yet!” New wings, weak and still wet with the first release from their owner’s back. “I can’t fly yet.” How does one even control these things?

“Your friends listened to me and look at them soaring though the clouds. Your turn.” The elder angel spoke, emotionless.

“Well, well-“ He took a deep breath and gave himself a running start. Before he knew it, he was in the sky, arms spread wide in attempts to spread his wings. Of course the two had to be independent of one another and Crowley was sent falling to the hard ground of the valley of clouds. Who know clouds could be so… dense.

When he sat up, he looked at his wings, finding the right one bent in all sorts of weird positions. It was strange. It didn’t hurt. Though, it did get that elder angel dropped down in rank.

“Afraid? Why would I be afraid? You just can’t handle all this wing.” Crowley laughed nervously. “Too perfect that even your all good seeing eyes can’t handle it.”

“Nonsense, Crowley. A demon’s wings can’t that perfect.” Aziraphale shook his head with a small smile and a chuckle. “No matter how well groomed.” He added.

“Well, mine are just so perfect because I have all the time in the world to dedicate to them.” Crowley shifted on the bed. “It’s not like we could go flying around like we used to.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice though? I did like the old times when there weren’t drones or aeroplanes.” Aziraphale mused, seeming to look longingly at something through the walls for a short moment. He was quick to come back to reality.

“You know, drones and aeroplanes aren’t the only things that keep us from flying around like we used to,” Crowley attempted to correct, shaking his head. Aziraphale was so quick to blame modern flight technology instead of things more simple like the simplicity of the human mind and things like guns.

A daily run of the parameter. He knew it was risky to fly over the warzone, but seeing as he was thrown from a tall cliff and told to survey, Crowley took to flying. At least they wouldn’t really be looking at him, right?

A few cannon balls made it about one hundred feet from him, but with a swift tilt left or right, he was able to avoid getting hit or being seen. “Wow, this is harder than I thought…” The person he was supposed to locate was nowhere nearby and that meant that he would have to do another circle… or fly somewhere else. Why not send the underlings? Wait… that is what he was considered. Great… Couldn’t they see how great and cool of a person he was?

Apparently a hunter did. About a mile out from the warzone, a burly man was taking shots at fowl game that were startled by the gunshots in the distance. One shot to the left wing and an audible curse was all it took to down the demon. “Oh great…” Crowley hissed, trying to get away from the falling site as to not be found. Even if he brought in his wings, it would be strange to find a human so close… not to mention that man did not look like someone he could easily talk his way gone.

Crowley got up to a small jog, staying crouched to the ground, wings dragging behind him. He wasn’t sure what pain he would feel if he brought them in and it was… bearable in the current state. Just barely, but bearable.

There was a shout and suddenly Crowley shrunk down into a mid-sized snake with wings. Funny looking as he was, he was at least able to hide in some shrubbery to avoid the hunter. Why did the officials say that flying was a good idea anymore? Or were they just saying that to get rid of him? As logical as that sounded, Crowley didn’t put enough trust in their mental capacities to think of something like that.

“No, no… sadly regulation from headquarters also has us grounded unless required otherwise,” Aziraphale sighed. “It really is a shame. We could get around a whole lot easier. Humans have even developed cloaking suits. We could use those.”

Straight from ‘technology is the devil’ to ‘if it allows me to fly, technology is great’…. Aziraphale really was a character nowadays. Seems like he can’t decide what is sin or not anymore. That sweater he was wearing in particular was a sin. Whose bright idea was it that green and red went together?Especially when they are that saturated…. And those little bells on the bottom? Do they even ring anymore? A small shift of the bed to test said no. How old was this sweater?

“Cloaking suits? To fly?” Crowley shrugged, “They would have to cover our wings. Too much effort if you ask me. What is wrong with breaking a few rules anyway?” Rule bending never hurt anyone. Well… it hasn’t killed a lot of people, so it’s probably an okay thing to do.

“Breaking rules is against the rules.” Yeah... and people die when they are killed, Aziraphale. “Crowley, just because you are a demon, doesn’t mean you are allowed to go gallivanting off and breaking every rule in the book…!”

No, of course not. He couldn’t break Hell’s rules, but he certainly could break Heaven’s and Earth’s rules. Those were more like guidelines, they were asking to be broken really. Who put up rules that aren’t reinforced or everyone equally and not expect them to be broken?

Breaking rules in Hell was worse than heavenly sin. There were rules for a reason in Hell and it kept everyone in their places… Most of the time. When they were broken, well, that was when those rule breakers were taken to a whole new ring of Hell to be punished.

Even the smallest rules broken can end with a punishment of torture and pain. Not properly tempting a very important person could lead to a whole new world of pain and punishment. That was where Crowley was, laying on his stomach and strapped to a cold table. Wings were spread, more than just the tips on the floor. Every demon that walked passed him stepped on his wings or pulled at his feathers.

He really much preferred the direct punishment as opposed to this drawn out, passive punishment. Hell is pretty routine, a lot of paperwork and very little time being seen in person usually. This was like heavenly punishment; long, drawn out, and very out and in the open. If he was going to be befriend an angel, might as well be punished like one, right? Maybe these people were a little smarter than he gave them credit for.

“Yeah, but it’s fun.” Crowley laughed, but backed away when Aziraphale reached out to rub his shoulder. “H-Hey, what is your hand doing?”

“Well… I just thought, I could at least give you a massage if you won’t let me see your wings,” Aziraphale offered, reaching out again and actually landing on Crowley’s shoulder. Maybe a few touches wouldn’t hurt. Certainly not. It wasn’t like they were going to do anything.

With a small verbal affirmation from Crowley, Aziraphale scooted on the bed to get behind Crowley and properly massage his shoulders and neck. It was impressive to see the human body slunk like it had when he hit a certain nerve and Crowley gave up. “Too much tension is not good for these bodies. I know you have lost a few of these corporal forms from stress alone.”It wasn’t stress that caused it. It was the actions he did because of stress… like falling into the ocean and remembering he couldn’t swim, or trying to beat up a confederate soldier because he just wasn’t listening to divine (well… the opposite of divine) reasoning. “Stress isn’t the problem.”

“Of course not,” Aziraphale sighed. “It’s just everything else, right? Speeding down the highway, doing evil deeds, what else?” The angel laughed a little. Doing evil didn’t seem that bad.

“Yeah, and having to deal with people like you,” Crowley joked back, voice lax. So, the massage was good, maybe it would satiate the angel for a while. Maybe. Hopefully.

Though, you have to love those instinctual pressure points that make life just wonderful and glorious and… reveal the one thing you didn’t want revealed. With a well-placed thumb to the right spot on his back, Crowley’s wings fanned out, nearly knocking out the light, but missing by a brush of feathers. Crowley let out a small bless.

“Oh, wow! Look at those things!” A demon exclaimed, brushing across dark feathers, earning a shiver from Crowley. “They would look nicely writhing like you’ll be soon.”

Crowley had trusted this demon, not fully because you never trust a demon completely, but trusted him quite a bit to let out his wings during their intimate moments. It wasn’t like they really cared for one another, but lust was a need for all demons, as much as Crowley missed the quota most of the time, and being demons, they had to act on that.

Gentle pruning and plucks became bites and scratches. One feather at a time became several of his down set. Black gained a red sheen and Crowley was writhing, just as the other wanted of him.

The night ended broken and bleeding, but thoroughly pleasured. He woke up to regret it in the morning, wings refusing to disappear because of the amount of damage to them. He let out a bless and proceeded to start his duties for the day, unable to wear his best clothing and looking like what happened last night.

“Aziraphale… no, don’t touch them.” Crowley demanded, curling them up against himself. Aziraphale was only looking in awe at them. Whether it was because they suddenly appeared for that he was actually amazed by his wings, he didn’t know.

Aziraphale didn’t listen of course. He reached out and very gently stroked the feathers at the base of his wings. “Wow… these are really soft… and they are all straight and even.” Were an angel’s wings less so? He couldn’t remember ever not grooming his wings to perfection, even while in Heaven. Maybe he was just doomed to be a demon and that was just a signal for it.

Crowley just sat there, frozen in place and read to run if he needed to. He had trusted before and it had not gone well. He trusted Aziraphale, but who knows if this angel has a bad side to him or not. Though, the gentle stroking only continued and it started to bring feelings into his mind. Those weird feelings where you just want to spill your life story to someone, whether they care or not.

So… He did. He just opened his mouth and out came word vomit of every time his wings had been troubled when they came out. Every time, he claimed, had been a bad time, even when grooming his wings: the music wasn’t right, it was storming outside and in the bad way, a squirrel wanted to watch one time, Gabriel came to visit, dinner hadn’t agreed with him, just… everything that could go wrong did go wrong when he was tending to his extra appendages.

“Yes, yes, dear boy, but… is there anything wrong with this time?” Aziraphale asked after a moment of rest.

“… Not anymore.” Crowley huffed in reply, relaxing against his angel and allowing him to groom his wings until kingdom come, which won’t be for a long time yet.

~end

Happy Holidays, notaspacealien, from your Secret Author!