Happy Holidays, kingstoken! Gift 2

[goe_mod]

Title: Every Hundred Years
Summary: Every century, demons go through an incubus/succubus stage that lasts about a year. This is known as The Cycle. Crowley's managed to save Aziraphale from seeing him during a Cycle, but his luck has finally run out. On a fateful day in the years prior to raising Warlock, Crowley's Cycle comes in full force.
Rating: E (marathon sex, dub-con (that gets cleared up), language)

London

2010

“Oh, that was wonderful!” Aziraphale clapped, the sound echoing across the empty block of London. For a Friday night, it was surprisingly empty. That was, of course, because of the party from where Aziraphale and Crowley had just come. Those who were not in attendance watched at its doors like ravenous vultures coming in for the kill of a good scoop.

“Nneh, was okay,” Crowley chimed in, hands in his pockets as he walked a couple of feet away from Aziraphale. The angel scoffed and looked at his companion indignantly.

“Okay? Crowley, that went marvelously! They were eating out of the palms of our hands, so to speak.” Aziraphale’s hands had dropped to clasp behind his back.

“I dunno if I’d go that far,” Crowley teased, letting his tone take a light lilt as they turned a corner, the Bentley coming into sight.

“You don’t-Pah, you insufferable serpent! We perfectly canceled each other out, and you know it!” he exclaimed, nose lifted into the night air.

Crowley couldn’t hold back the smirk any longer, huffing laughter at the expression on Aziraphale’s face as they approached the Bentley. “Alright, fine, it went well,” he conceded, one corner of his mouth cocked up in a cheeky grin. Aziraphale looked over at him, a victorious expression on his face.

“Now, how about we stop by my place? We could celebrate with a little something,” the angel suggested as they both came to a stop beside the Bentley. Crowley pretended to think on it momentarily before breaking into a full grin.

“Of course, angel, I could use a good drink.” Aziraphale’s expression lit up all the more at those words, and they both slipped into the Bentley with practiced ease. The car started as Crowley settled into his seat, and Aziraphale began to ramble about what wine they would delight themselves with that evening.

“Now you know I have a wide selection, but I do think we should consider our options carefully…” the angel said, voice trailing as Crowley tuned him out. The other often went to great lengths to determine the proper vintage to partake in and rarely needed Crowley’s help.

Thin fingers wrapping around the steering wheel, Crowley prepared to peel out from his parking spot when something had him freezing in place. A familiar sensation at the back of his would-be-skull, had he had one, a prickle that was all too unpleasant. Fingers now tight on the steering wheel, Crowley willed the sensation to go away, nearly praying for it to disappear. Not right now, he willed it, any time but now.

“Crowley? Are you quite alright?” Aziraphale asked, breaking Crowley’s concentration. The demon forced a grin onto his face.

“Peachy,” he all but hissed, pulling the Bentley out quickly to avoid too many questions. As he drove, the prickle—akin to regaining feeling in a limb once numb from lack of circulation—worked its way down the back of his neck. He tracked its progress with growing despair, lamenting his lack of control over this unwelcome feeling.

Like a blip of bristling light, it trickled into his chest, where it came to rest momentarily above where his lungs would be. It pulsed brightly, and he clenched his fists tighter at the suddenly racing heartbeat that it evoked. Once it had completed its work, it continued southward until it rested around his navel, drawing blood he didn’t have with it, a growing heat building around it. Crowley flushed with it, blinking against the thoughts that came alongside the feeling.

Now biting his lower lip with nearly enough force to break skin, he tracked the sensation as it rested in his pelvis where, had he not already made an effort, it would have produced a lovely set of choice genitals. As it were, he’d already put forth the effort after the first dozen times this had happened, preferring to choose in advance.

“Crowley? Are you sure you’re alright?” he heard Aziraphale asking. Forcing himself back to the present, he realized they were at a complete stop on the road across from Aziraphale’s shop. Turning to look at the angel, he attempted to force a look of relaxation on his all-but-relaxed face.

“’M fine, angel. I just remembered, though, got another assignment I’ve gotta do. Completely forgot, my bad, I‘ll just have to drop you here. We can do this another time,” he forced out, attempting to sound as genuine as he could. Aziraphale’s brow puckered, and Crowley fought the urge—always there but stronger now—to press his lips to that spot and soften the expression.

“Are you sure, dear fellow? We could nip in for a quick glass, if you’re in such a hurry,” Aziraphale pressed. Crowley’s hands, impossibly, tightened their grip further on the Bentley’s steering wheel. He was rooting himself in place. If he couldn’t move, he wouldn’t cave to the sensations now pulsing through him, especially since the cock in his pants was reacting entirely out of proportion to Aziraphale’s words.

“Nyeah, angel. Really gotta go.” He breathed this out through clenched teeth, and he watched Aziraphale’s brows press closer together. He watched, almost in slow motion, as Aziraphale’s hand came to rest on his upper arm. The heat seared through him despite the layers of clothing between their skin. He bit back a hiss as his dick responded to the warmth.

“Are you positive?” he asked, and Crowley knew he’d lost. Closing his eyes tight, he prepared for what was to come, and memories from several millennia ago flashed by in seconds.

It was after the Fall and before the establishment of the Garden of Eden, at a Big Meeting in Hell. Without the guidance of God or the Archangels, the demons had needed to establish their own system to run their new found purpose. Departments were founded, teams established, and agreements made. One such agreement was on the basis of certain forms of temptation.

The Temptations Department refused to perform temptations of a sexual nature; no demon wanted to partake in the carnal pleasure of the human form. He'd thought at the time the suggestion of "what if we took turns then?" wouldn't have even been heard, let alone utilized. Yet another time he'd managed to muck over his own life.

The agreement that was reached was as such: every demon would experience a period of time—in this case, one year every one hundred years—where they would be subject to tempting humans in a sexual manner. This “Cycle,” as it came to be known, was only vaguely predictable. Many demons found theirs occurred, give or take, a decade apart, and lasted, approximately, nine to fifteen months.

Crowley had managed to track his Cycle down to a near science, especially around the nineteenth century when he began spending significantly more time with a certain angel. He found his Cycle occurred, give or take, every five years, and lasted, give or take, a month.

Being around Aziraphale during this period was simply out of the question. Especially since before the first several orgasms, and periodically every few days, he had little to no control of himself.

Memories of previous Cycles and the origin of the agreement washed over him before he opened his eyes again, and the full effects took over.

A wave of ecstasy rolled over Crowley, and he felt his entire being relax into the hand on his upper arm. Immediately, his reservations blew away, and he was smiling coyly at Aziraphale. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware of what was happening, but he could do nothing but watch.

“Mm, actually, a little drink couldn’t hurt,” he mused, earning a pleased grin from Aziraphale, at which he practically keened, much to his repressed embarrassment. They both exited the Bentley and matched step up to the bookshop, Crowley’s snakey sway far more fluid than usual. Sensual, one might describe it. Aziraphale hadn’t noticed.

Upon entering, Crowley relieved himself of his glasses faster than Aziraphale could close the door, finding the couch near Aziraphale’s desk and sprawling languidly across it.

“I’d say make yourself at home, dear boy, but it appears you already have,” Aziraphale chortled before disappearing behind some bookshelves toward where he kept his wine. Crowley reveled in the comfort of the couch, sitting up to remove his jacket at one point before sinking back into the cushions. He was already half hard in his tight pants and doing nothing to hide it. Internally, he was screaming at himself to get a grip, to remember who he was with, but there was no response.

“I believe this is the perfect vintage for the evening,” Aziraphale chirped as he re-entered the space, bottle in one hand, two glasses in the other. Crowley watched him hungrily as he went about setting the glasses on the desk and filling them. A disappointed frown etched into his face as Aziraphale stopped pouring before the glass was half full.

He sat up, though, as Aziraphale handed him the glass and gave a very uncharacteristically seductive grin. The angel blinked at him but recovered quickly, settling back into his chair with the glass cradled in one hand.

As Crowley repositioned himself on the sofa, shirt rustling against the cushions behind him, he glanced around the room. They both took sips from their glasses, silence lingering for a moment before Crowley turned back to Aziraphale.

“You’ve gathered quite the collection, angel,” Crowley said, sweeping the hand holding the wine glass to gesture toward the room. Aziraphale beamed at this, and Crowley grinned back, their expressions so similar yet so different. Shit, he thought, I know where this is going. “With such a diverse collection, I imagine there must be some on human sexuality.” This got exactly the reaction he’d been hoping for and the reaction he dreaded.

Aziraphale spluttered into his drink before lowering it carefully. “I beg your pardon?” The bewildered expression on his face was one Crowley had seen countless times. Yet now, it was arousing.

“Mm, you heard me. With all the books you have, you’ve gotta have ones on human sex.” Crowley watched as Aziraphale’s face traveled through a variety of emotions while searching for what to say. The angel took a rather large gulp of wine before wiggling in his seat and looking back up at Crowley. Look, Crowley screamed internally, you’re making him uncomfortable!

“Why do you ask?” He was evading the question, but Crowley could manage that. Shifting against the cushions, Crowley sunk further back, taking a drink from his glass and throwing his legs open.

“Jus’ curious, angel. You love to learn, and I figured you’d learned everything there was about everything, including sex the human way.” Crowley grinned over his glass, wiggling his hips. Arousal was continuing to pool around his cock, and he was growing harder the longer the conversation continued. It’s just a part of the Cycle, the part of him that was watching thought, mortified.

“Yes, well,” Aziraphale’s face was practically shoved into his glass at this point. His lovely eyes were clearly avoiding looking downward. “That is their personal business, I don’t see why I need to know about it.”

Crowley knew this was a lie, Aziraphale was just embarrassed. The angel enjoyed learning and was not ashamed of any avenue to education. Still, his words created an opening, and Crowley took it.

“Perhaps I can show you a thing or two, then?” Crowley smirked, finishing off his glass and throwing both arms behind him on the couch.

“Wh-what?” Aziraphale stuttered, glass now empty, as he watched Crowley spread his legs further across the couch, hard-on clearly outlined by the tight pull of his jeans. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

“We could, y’know, have a different kind of fun,” he purred, arms lounging across the back of the couch as he watched Aziraphale turn a deep shade of red. Oh, it was such a lovely color on that fair face, he wished to see that expression every day.

“C-Crowley, dear boy, are you q-quite alright?” Aziraphale asked, pressing himself back into the chair as if attempting to get further away. The demon set his glass down on the floor, reclining back once he was sure it was out of the way.

“Mmm, quite,” he cooed, gently beginning to undo the buttons on his shirt. Aziraphale blinked, but didn’t say anything, watching as Crowley worked the fabric open. Stop, please, I’m begging you, he cried subconsciously. Once he reached his navel, the angel squeezed his eyes shut.

“This is…” a shaky exhale, “this is most unexpected, dear boy.” Crowley pouted and stopped his movements. It was no fun if Aziraphale wasn’t watching. Instead, he got up off the sofa and crossed to Aziraphale, where he placed a finger under his chin and lifted it up. Aziraphale blinked, large blue eyes locking with Crowley’s. It was unfair that those eyes be as pretty as they were, but Crowley continued his attempts to fight himself from the inside, all to no avail.

“I don’t do ‘expected’,” he stated simply. Aziraphale didn’t get the chance to say anything as Crowley pressed a kiss to his lips, mouth open and hot. The angel gasped into it but didn’t pull away. Crowley took the lead, slipping his tongue—forked for added effect—into Aziraphale’s mouth and exploring the wet heat.

With one hand on Aziraphale’s jaw, Crowley began working the rest of his buttons open with his other. Once he was done and Aziraphale was panting into his mouth, he pulled back and slipped the shirt off his shoulders. Aziraphale’s eyes were hooded, pupils blown wide, mouth red, and kiss-bruised. Smirking at his work, Crowley worked the buttons open on his jeans—oh, Somebody, no—and released his hard cock from the confines of his pants.

“Oh,” Aziraphale gasped, eyes darting toward where the length hung heavy in the air. Crowley drew his attention back up by catching his mouth in another kiss, hands brushing down Aziraphale’s front and finding the bow tie. With an effortless tug, he undid the tie and slipped the fabric sensually from Aziraphale’s collar. He began pressing kisses along Aziraphale’s jawline toward his ear, where he nibbled gently on the lobe while beginning on the buttons of the angel’s waistcoat.

Once the waistcoat was open and Aziraphale’s ear good and red, Crowley worked his way back down his soft jawline to the nook where it met his neck. He grinned into the kisses he left as Aziraphale responded with soft gasps and quiet moans, taking the challenge to get him to be louder. Don’t, please don’t, you’re ruining this for me, he thought, as if he and his Cycle were somehow different beings.

Slowly, Crowley worked the buttons of Aziraphale’s shirt open, following the motions with his mouth against soft flesh. The sweet little gasps continued above his head as he worked his way closer to the waistband of Aziraphale’s trousers. Once there, he carefully untucked the fabric of the shirt, allowing the material to drag sensually across Aziraphale’s stomach.

Fingers hot against Aziraphale’s skin, Crowley stood straighter and pushed the fabric of his clothing away from his body, revealing a lush expanse of soft skin and white hair. He licked his lips and glanced quickly at Aziraphale, reignited by the desperate look in his eyes—really, he has no right to look that good when I’m suffering here—, before ducking his head back toward Aziraphale’s neck.

He started his work at the base of the angel’s neck, first licking languidly across the sensitive flesh, tasting the salt and sweat of him against every inch of his forked tongue. Once sufficiently worked, he sucked and kissed at the spot, working the flesh between his lips with his tongue. Aziraphale was whimpering now, a little louder than the gasps and moans from earlier. When Crowley bit into the well-worked skin, Aziraphale gasped loudly, nearly a shout in the otherwise quiet space.

Satisfied, Crowley drew back, grinning at the deep purple spot on Aziraphale’s neck. You bastard, his thoughts growled, now there’ll be reminders when this wears off. Without looking at Aziraphale, he chose a new spot near his collarbone and began anew. Each section of skin, sweet and salty in Crowley’s mouth, was worked as if it were the only important part of Aziraphale in that moment. Gentle licking turned to persistent sucking turned to possessive biting as the skin puckered and bruised under the attention.

When Crowley began his attentions on the first nipple—oh fuck—, Aziraphale’s whole body arched into the sensation, a drawn-out moan escaping his lips. Grinning against the already puckered skin, Crowley licked at the bud, twisting his tongue over it to get it from every angle. Once satisfied, he sucked the nipple between his lips and gave it a tug, earning a sound akin to a yelp from Aziraphale. For a few moments, he continued to tug and suck at the beautifully responsive area before giving it the final treatment: a good bite.

The resulting shout sent a shiver down Crowley’s spine—shit, now he’s reacting to it, again like he and his Cycle weren’t the same being—and he moaned into the next bite, Aziraphale’s response quieter but still arousing. Pulling back with a gentle pop, Crowley glanced up at Aziraphale again, pleased at the wrecked expression already on his face. He’d barely gotten started. Over the course of what was likely longer than necessary, Crowley continued his attentions to Aziraphale’s skin, starting with the other nipple and working down his torso, ending at the sensitive skin just above his waistband.

Standing up, Crowley grinned at the purple and red marks speckling Aziraphale’s skin and the way his chest heaved at the arousal. When his eyes traveled further south, he was pleased to spot the tight bulge of an erection in Aziraphale’s trousers.

“That must be painful,” he said, getting to his knees and spreading Aziraphale’s thighs apart with a gentle push. Eyes locked with Aziraphale, Crowley expertly undid his button and fly with just his tongue and teeth—fuck me—, Aziraphale’s surprise evident in the raise of his brow. He tugged gently at the fabric, and Aziraphale understood the gesture, lifting his ass off the chair enough for Crowley to relieve him of his trousers and pants simultaneously.

He was met with the bob of Aziraphale’s cock on his face, thicker than it was long and dripping with precome already. Internally, he whimpered at the sight, having longed for this for so long. This was not how this was supposed to go, he thought.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, nuzzling his nose into the crease where his thigh met his torso, pressing kisses to the sensitive skin and noting the glittering stretch marks decorating flesh. “How appropriate,” he whispered, nipping gently at one stretch mark, earning himself a gasp, Aziraphale’s cock twitching against his cheek.

“Crowley,” his name was drawn out “please.” The pleading was hot, he wanted Aziraphale begging. With a wicked grin, he pressed more chaste kisses to various parts of Aziraphale’s thighs and hips, hands holding the angel steadfastly in place to prevent pleasure seeking. At first, Aziraphale was all gasps and moans, fingers of one hand twisting into Crowley’s hair. As the nips and kisses turned to sucking and biting, Aziraphale’s vocalizations found some semblance of coherency.

“Crowley, ah… Crowley, please. Oh, please. Fffuu-ah, touch me,” he whimpered, legs shaking under Crowley’s fingertips. Pleased at the begging he’d evoked, Crowley pulled away from where he’d been pressed to Aziraphale’s stomach and looked at the inviting cock leaking with want. He glanced up to find Aziraphale’s eyes hooded, pupils blown wide as he stared down at the demon.

“You’re going to need to be more specific, pet,” he purred,—fucking fuck—thumbs stroking Aziraphale’s thighs.

“I want… ah, I want to be in your mouth.” That can be arranged, Cycle Crowley thought with a grin, leaning forward toward Aziraphale’s cock, eyes not leaving his angel’s. With the most chaste peck he could muster, he pressed his lips to the head of Aziraphale’s cock and watched the way he shuddered at the light touch. Licking his lips, Crowley pressed a deeper kiss to the head, tongue playing at his slit before he slid minutely over the head and back off.

“Ahhh, Crowley,” Aziraphale whined, fingers gripping his hair and shoulder tighter. The burn against his scalp was good, and Crowley rewarded it with another press onto Aziraphale’s cock. Mouth around the head, Crowley pressed down a bit further, tongue flat against the underside of the tip. He was met with more moans and a rumbling groan that Crowley could feel from where he was situated. Pleased—of fucking course you are—, he moaned as well, allowing the sensation to ripple through Aziraphale’s length. Well-manicured fingernails burned into his scalp, and Crowley quit the teasing.

Slowly, he pressed down Aziraphale’s cock, eyes watching the angel as well as he could from his angle. With no effort at all, he nestled his nose into the hair at the base, breathing gently over the tickle of it. An advantage to both being non-human and having a body currently honed to sexual pleasure meant no gag reflex. Aziraphale, heavy on his tongue, was pressed against the back of Crowley’s throat. The salty taste of him was glorious to the demon’s taste buds, and he moaned at the feeling.

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale whimpered, now nearly doubled over from the pleasure. Crowley gave a couple of experimental swallows, and the angel’s legs were shaking violently in seconds. Now that the preamble was over, it was time to truly begin the show.

Crowley pulled back until just the tip was in his mouth and then came back down quickly. Aziraphale shouted at this, and Crowley repeated it, slowly at first, then faster as he warmed to the motion. The angel was trying to direct his motions, hand pressing against the back of Crowley’s head to encourage him on faster. For a minute or so, Crowley ignored this insistence, pressing on and off at his own pace. Just fucking finish it, he thought, get this over with so he can tell me he never wants to see me again. Eventually, he could feel the twitching of Aziraphale in his mouth and knew he was getting close.

Taking a deep breath, Crowley pressed back in quickly and immediately pulled back. Most humans are incapable of sucking dick at the speed Crowley can, and it was evident in the way Aziraphale unraveled quickly, coming in thick spurts down Crowley’s throat. Without flinching, Crowley took his load with deft swallows, milking every last drop as Aziraphale shuddered, fingers spasming in his hair.

“C-Crowley,” Aziraphale finally muttered, throat dry against the words. Crowley pulled back, sucking as he went to remove any evidence from Aziraphale’s now softening length. The angel’s thighs shuddered with the overstimulation as Crowley finally popped off, licking his lips to get the last of whatever was left.

In a single fluid motion, Crowley stood and snapped his fingers, relieving them both of their pants and trousers. Of course, there’s more, he thought, horrified and resigned. Aziraphale blinked rapidly but didn’t have much time to recover before Crowley scooped him up easily and headed towards the stairs.

“Crowley! What are you doing? You don’t need to carry me,” he protested, hands flinging around Crowley’s neck to keep himself from tumbling to the floor.

“Need to get you to bed,” Crowley purred, pleased—AGH!—at the flustered expression on Aziraphale’s face. “This was easier than asking you to stand up.” Aziraphale was a leisurely sort of person, one to take his time. Crowley was starved for more and wasn’t willing to wait for the angel to do as much.

“O-oh” was all Aziraphale seemed capable of managing. “Well, we’re not going to fit up the stairs like this. You’re going to have to put me down.” As they reached the stairs, Crowley realized he was right. The narrow spiral staircase was not wide enough to fit Aziraphale held bridal-style nor tall enough to accommodate him fireman-style. With a grumble, Crowley set him down. Yes, be disappointed, you bastard. At this point, if he couldn’t control himself, at least he could yell at himself.

“Get on with it, then,” he commanded, smacking Aziraphale’s bare ass and grinning at the yelp he got from this. The angel shot him an indignant expression but did as he said, starting up the staircase with no further protest. What Crowley was not anticipating about this new arrangement, but was most pleased by, was the jiggling of the angel’s ass directly in his face. Oh fuck you, he thought. He grinned as they walked, unable to resist the temptation to reach out and grope.

“Hey!” Aziraphale shouted, attempting to twist to look at Crowley. The demon prevented him from doing so, holding him in place by two lush cheeks gripped tightly between his fingers. Both of them had effectively halted on the staircase, Crowley massaging his fingers into the plush flesh as Aziraphale grumbled something he couldn’t hear.

Nimble fingers worked the skin to red, the blush very becoming of the round ass. Once satisfied with his work—you would be—, Crowley pressed his fingers to the crease between cheeks and spread as wide as they would go. Another yelp from Aziraphale encouraged Crowley onward, pressing a kiss to one cheek and then the other, adding a playful nip to the second. Aziraphale moaned at this, much to Crowley’s pleasure, and the demon took that as permission to continue.

Kisses trailed from thick flesh to the tight pucker of the angel’s asshole, which earned a lovely moan. Aziraphale had propped himself on a stair in front of him, supporting his weight on his hands as Crowley worked the hole with kisses and licks. Pulling back after a few minutes, Crowley grinned at the swollen red flesh of his angel’s ass before pressing back in, slipping his tongue between tight muscles and reveling in the gasp he withdrew from Aziraphale.

The nature of his current state—the Cycle being what it was—Crowley’s tongue made easy work of Aziraphale’s entrance. The added bonus of having a snake's tongue meant he could go in far deeper than other demons, and this was working wonders on Aziraphale’s arousal. Pressed nose to skin, Crowley swirled his tongue in the hot, spongy heat of Aziraphale’s ass, exploring the tight space with the expert flick of his tongue. Aziraphale was trembling under his hands, whining incoherent noises. His explorations earned him a shout of surprise as his tongue found an erogenous zone within Aziraphale that made the angel buck his hips. I’m so sorry, angel, Crowley’s thoughts lamented.

“Ah, Crowley…” the angel whimpered, hissing as he dropped to his elbows, unable to support himself with his arms extended. Crowley continued to press his tongue against the spot, earning plea after plea from the angel at his mercy. “C-Crowley, please,” Aziraphale whined, breath coming in shallow pants. “This is, ah, really un-oh-comfortable.”

Crowley pulled back at his, the obscene squelch of his tongue leaving Aziraphale’s ass wonderful. “Sounded comfortable to me,” he teased, licking his saliva from Aziraphale’s hole. Fuck you, Crowley found himself thinking yet again.

“I meant, oh, the stairs, Crowley,” Aziraphale clarified, legs shaking less now that Crowley wasn’t paying as much attention. The demon hummed, observing the now very swollen red hole of Aziraphale’s ass and the stiff length of Aziraphale’s cock hard once again. After a moment, he released Aziraphale’s ass cheeks and squeezed his hips, pressing a rough bite into one cheek, earning a yelp, before smacking the same cheek to indicate Aziraphale could get up. Crowley’s inner monologue was reduced to frustrated noises at this point.

When Aziraphale didn’t immediately get up, Crowley nudged his plump rump. “C’mon angel, I thought you wanted to move to the bedroom,” he purred, leaning forward and rubbing his own hard prick between Aziraphale’s cheeks. The angel muttered something incoherent before pushing himself shakily to his feet, steadying himself with the railing.

“You’re a… a….” Aziraphale huffed and grumbled before finally continuing up the stairs with shaky steps. Crowley grinned and followed, pleased at the bruise he’d left, which remained eye level until they reached the top of the stairs. As they both leveled out with each other, Crowley grabbed Aziraphale’s hips and pressed the length of his front against Aziraphale’s back, rutting into his cheeks again. Give him a break, asshole, Crowley’s thoughts growled.

“You’re so delicious, angel,” he growled softly against Aziraphale’s ear. “I just want to eat you up.” He nipped at the shell of the angel’s ear and was met with a moan, soft fingers cupping over his own where they gripped at soft hips.

“We’re never, ah, going to make it to the bed,” Aziraphale panted, unable to move of his own accord with Crowley’s fingers dug into his plump hips.

“Oh, we will, angel,” Crowley whispered, languidly bucking into Aziraphale. “And when we do, you’re going to wish we were still here.” Fuck off, Crowley thought. These words elicited a whole body shudder from Aziraphale, and Crowley bit hard at the back of his neck where it met his shoulder.

“Th-that, oh! That better be a promise,” Aziraphale laughed breathily. Crowley felt the heat building in his abdomen rush quickly to his cock, and he had to stop himself before he came against Aziraphale’s back. Even internal Crowley was a bit taken aback by the words. With shuddering breaths, he pushed Aziraphale forward.

“Then lead the way,” a smack to Aziraphale’s ass for emphasis, and the angel was moving, this time not throwing an indignant look over his shoulder. Crowley grinned at this, following close behind the other being as he turned into a room Crowley had never seen before. Whatever else was in the room was unimportant, Crowley was focused on the large bed in the center of it all.

Crowley spun Aziraphale around in a single fluid motion and shoved him to the bed, grinning wickedly at the shout this evoked. He slid over Aziraphale’s body and grabbed his wrists, pinning them above his head with a single hand before he ducked down to look the angel in the eye.

“Hold on tight,” Crowley growled before slipping his tongue into Aziraphale’s open mouth. The angel bucked into him as he kissed, and Crowley met the motion with his own, rubbing their hard cocks together in deliberately slow motions. Aziraphale was already close, he could tell the angel was radiating a hunger that spoke to needing to finish. He allowed the rutting for a little longer, the hot breath from Aziraphale’s nose bouncing off his skin as they kissed.

Aziraphale’s sounds, muffled against Crowley’s lips, were becoming more frequent and his movements more desperate. Grinning into their kiss, Crowley lifted his hips as high as he could manage and pressed a knee to Aziraphale’s thigh to keep him pinned. The disappointed whine he released into Crowley’s mouth was eaten up as thin fingers snaked down Aziraphale’s body. You bastard, Crowley thought, less heart in these words.

Lifting slightly from the kiss, he locked eyes with Aziraphale, whose pupils were blown so wide his eyes might have well been black. “Not yet, pet. I want to tease this out of you.” With that, he snapped a quick miracle to slick his fingers with warm lube and pressed into Aziraphale’s ready entrance. He wished he could close his eyes, not watch, but control was not his. Crowley swallowed the moan that Aziraphale’s throat unleashed as he slipped two fingers in simultaneously.

The tight heat of Aziraphale’s ass was far more enjoyable with his fingers. It was easier to feel the shape of him around the digits than on his tongue. Thrusting slowly in and out a few times, Crowley grinned at the way Aziraphale’s body practically sucked him in and refused to release him. In only moments, a third finger was pressed inside, his gaze lifting from Aziraphale’s face to admire the kiss-bruised look and his hooded eyes.

“Brace yourself,” Crowley whispered against Aziraphale’s ear as he curled his fingers and immediately—another gift of his current state—found his prostate. Aziraphale’s whole body arched at the sensation, but Crowley didn’t cease chasing the lovely way this action pressed them together. Within minutes Aziraphale was whimpering and writhing, attempting to force Crowley to let up, but expert fingers remained on target. It didn’t take long before Aziraphale was coming in spurts across his stomach and chest, mouth wide in a silent scream as Crowley continued to milk his orgasm.

Internally, Crowley was sobbing at his lack of presence. He was there, but he wasn’t, he couldn’t stop himself from what he was doing, what he was ruining. Couldn’t enjoy what he had imagined for millennia. Instead, he was stuck in a weird liminal space in his mind, forced to watch himself take what wasn’t his.

As soon as Aziraphale had relaxed back into the bed and weakly attempted to push Crowley’s fingers out of him, Crowley ceased his ministrations. He didn’t, however, entirely let up. Slipping his fingers from within Aziraphale, he repositioned himself below the angel and slipped the head of his dick into the welcoming entrance.

“Ah! Crowley,” Aziraphale whimpered, hands reaching weakly toward Crowley’s shoulders. “Mmm, it’s too much.” he was panting breathy gasps now, his eyes squeezed shut and his head thrown back. Crowley leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Aziraphale’s stomach.

“Don’t worry, angel. I would never hurt you.” Crowley knew it was true. Caught in the void of his own mind, he felt comforted by those words. Even as out of control as he was, he would never hurt Aziraphale. Nothing in Heaven, Hell, or Earth could change that. The conversation that would follow the events of the evening would be torture, but he could rest easy knowing he’d never hurt his angel.

But he could overstimulate him, apparently.

Crowley pressed into Aziraphale in a single, slow motion, biting his lower lip at the delicious heat that squeezed around him. Aziraphale continued to whine and squirm, but he didn’t attempt to push Crowley off. Once all the way in, Crowley readjusted his hold on Aziraphale’s wrists and pulled out in an experimental thrust. The angel was still sensitive to the movement, but Crowley maintained a slow rhythm to allow him to adjust.

After a while, Crowley could feel the heat returning to the base of his cock, and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. Finally enveloped by Aziraphale, he knew it would be worth it. He began picking up the pace, thrusting fast and hard until the squelching and slapping sounds echoed in the small space. Aziraphale was huffing out garbled moans and whines as Crowley’s brow pinched tight.

With a choked sound, Crowley came hot and hard in Aziraphale, excess spilling out of the angel as Crowley fucked him through it. Eventually, Crowley came down from it, forehead pressed to Aziraphale’s chest, hands relaxing their hold on soft wrists. Pushing himself up, Crowley looked into Aziraphale’s eyes and brushed a stray curl from his face.

“You ready for round two?” He asked with a wicked grin. Of fucking course, Crowley thought, less committed to the vitriol. Aziraphale’s mouth dropped open as Crowley pulled out of him, still hard, and began to resituate.

“You can’t be serious?” He gasped as he was flipped over, and Crowley pressed a hand against the small of his back.

“Oh, I’m very serious,” he said as he bit into Aziraphale’s shoulder. “This,” he rubbed his cock against Aziraphale’s cheeks, “isn’t going away any time soon.” Aziraphale squirmed underneath him a bit but settled after a moment, cheek pressed into the pillows. Crowley rutted a couple of times, and caught the head of his cock on Aziraphale’s still open hole. They continued this way for a few moments before Crowley finally pressed in again, not even bothering to start slow.

He came around the time Aziraphale’s own cock was finally starting to respond again. Hefting Aziraphale up, he laid back on the bed and bounced Aziraphale on his cock for the third orgasm. By the fourth, Aziraphale was coming again and shaking like a leaf. The very slightest touch from Crowley had him whimpering. The fifth was the last, and Aziraphale was asleep mere moments after Crowley pulled out of him. Asleep! The angel who rarely slept was so undone by their fun he’d fallen asleep.

Finally soft, Crowley curled into a ball beside his angel and dozed as well.

Crowley woke slowly and in increments. First, he noticed the touch of blankets and the soft down of the pillow under his head. His body shifted minutely, and warmth radiated all around him. He hummed quietly into the velvety soft pillowcase and took a deep breath. Second, he noticed the smell. Dusty, almost, and definitely a bit musty. It was accompanied by the smell of old books and tea brewing. Brows now creased, Crowley blinked his eyes open into the sunshine bleeding through the blinds from the windows in the room he was in.

From his angle on the pillow, he saw stacks of books, an end table, and a lamp. The lamp appeared antique, the end table Victorian. Looking down at the pillow he was on, he noticed it was—fucking hell—tartan. He was in Aziraphale’s bed. In Aziraphale’s flat.

In a rush, memories of the previous night came flooding back to him.

Sitting bolt upright, he felt panic clench desperately at his heart as he recalled the way he’d seduced Aziraphale. He’d sucked him off, eaten him out, and fucked him brainless numerous times. Aziraphale had fallen asleep next to him he’d run him so hard. Crowley’s hands found his hair, gripping tightly at red locks as he raced through a number of excuses and explanations. He’d probably have to stick to the truth and let Aziraphale off as easily as possible.

Of course, Crowley had wanted Aziraphale for millennia now, but he’d been content to live their lives the way they had been. Nothing needed to change. But that stupid Cycle had hit him at the worst possible time, and now things were ruined. Aziraphale was probably furious with him, was probably stewing in the kitchen as the tea brewed. Not only had he never once asked what Aziraphale had wanted, but he’d continued through the whole thing as if Aziraphale couldn’t have wanted anything else.

Only images were revealing themselves to him, and he saw himself taking Aziraphale’s cock in his mouth, eating him out on the stairs, fucking him on this very bed. Flashes of looks from Aziraphale, worry and concern, and—shit—fear as Crowley took his body and his pleasure without permission. Panic was making Crowley shake now, hands so tight in his hair he was probably going to pull some soon.

“Are you alright, darling?” Crowley practically jumped at the sound of Aziraphale’s voice in the doorway. The angel was holding a cup of tea and wearing a robe, the top revealing little red and purple marks all over his collarbone and neck.

“Fuck, angel,” Crowley whimpered, hands falling into his lap, fingers fiddling together. “I’m sorry about all…” hands gesturing wildly “-this. I was… not entirely in control of myself. Shit, I didn’t mean to-to seduce you like that. I just, it’s this weird demon thing, and I wasn’t in control of myself. That-that doesn’t excuse what I did, of course! It was shitty of me to even be near you when it hit, I just… I’m so sorry.”

Aziraphale remained where he was for a moment, simply looking at Crowley. After a bit, he crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, resting his teacup on the end table nearby.

“Are you saying you didn’t want me?” Aziraphale asked, and Crowley was surprised to hear hurt in his voice. Everything out in the open now, he figured he should continue with the truth.

“No, no, I… I’ve wanted you for so long I just…. I wasn’t expecting it to happen at all, let alone like this.” Crowley sighed, face dropping to watch his fingers worry together. A soft, plump hand rested atop his, stopping the movement.

“Crowley, dear, I have wanted you for a very long time.” Crowley looked up as Aziraphale spoke. “Last night was the most fun I’ve ever had in my entire existence.” Crowley blinked, brows shooting toward his hairline.

“Wh-what?” he asked softly.

Aziraphale grinned. “Seduction doesn’t work on angels, dear, just as temptation doesn’t.” Crowley’s mouth formed a small ‘o’. “Besides, if I hadn’t enjoyed any part of that, I could have easily thrown you.” Crowley felt himself flush at this “I wasn’t angel of the Eastern Gate for nothing.” Crowley felt his cock twitch beneath the blankets.

“You could-” a hard swallow, “you could always try anyway.” It was Aziraphale’s turn to blink in surprise before he grinned wickedly. Sliding up onto the bed, the angel tucked himself under the covers near Crowley.

“Perhaps we can try that eventually,” he conceded, grabbing his teacup and turning slightly toward the demon. “For now, tell me about this ‘weird demon thing.’” So he did, and Aziraphale listened.

“So it happens once every hundred years, lasts for one year, and is sprinkled with periods of no control. Do I have that right?” Aziraphale asked once he’d finished.

Crowley nodded. “Pretty much. We’ve never been around each other when it happened in the past. I was going to keep it that way…” Crowley looked back toward the blankets over his lap. Aziraphale’s hand slipped into his.

“Now you don’t have to, darling. I can help.” Crowley looked up at this. “I care about you, Crowley. If it also happens that I’m saving a few souls while I’m at it, well…” Crowley grinned sheepishly, and Aziraphale returned the expression.

“Thanks, angel.” Crowley leaned into Aziraphale, reveling in the warmth that radiated from him.

“Anything for you, love,” Aziraphale whispered, pressing a kiss into Crowley’s hair. They sat this way for hours, ironing out more details about this new Arrangement. When the time did come a few days later that Crowley sought relief, Aziraphale was there for him through all of it.

Link to Gift 3

Comments

Lovely

[holrose]

Such a very sweet ending. Aziraphale being a little sweetheart and them making a new arrangement. I was glad Crowley wasn’t freaking out for too long.

[kingstoken]

Holy moly! This was scorching hot! Poor Crowley being stuck within his own subconscious and not being in control of anything, he was so worried that he was ruining things with his angel, and it was so sweet that he wanted their first time to be different. Also, I love the implication that Aziraphale was very much into the rough play as it were.

Thank you so much for writing this for me!

[maniacalmole]

“What if we take turns”!?? Oh, Crowley. I can just see the Spongebob meme of you mocking yourself rattling around in your head for MILLENNIA.
““Th-that, oh! That better be a promise,” Yesss
“I could have easily thrown you” lmao yes you could Aziraphale
We love to see an angel supportive of his boyfriend’s weird demon stuff :)

[irisbleufic_go_exchange]

That opening image of the two of them walking down an empty city block and being the snippy, sometimes irritating weirdos that they are is so pleasing to envision. I mean, that's them, that's the idiots. Sweet ending, too!