Happy Holidays, the_bentley!
Dec. 16th, 2024 05:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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go_exchangeSummary: When Santa is injured a few days before Christmas, Aziraphale and Crowley are chosen to take his place. With Aziraphale thrilled and Crowley more than a little put out, will they make it home in time for their own special Christmas morning?
Rating: Explicit
A small snake was wrapped around a branch of the Christmas tree, snoozing in a pile of tiny black and red coils. The bookshop was warm and comfortable, and Crowley planned to sleep among the lights until the whole blasted holiday was over.
There were many reasons Crowley didn’t like the holiday season. Too full of good cheer, for one thing. Everyone being all kind and nice and good and all of the other four letter words. Too cold, for another. Much better to be snuggled up, warm and welcome. Aziraphale was bustling around humming to himself, and Crowley flicked out his tongue to taste the smells that filled the bookshop: tea, cinnamon, the tree, and angel. Crowley yawned in satisfaction and snuggled in tighter around the boughs. It was so cozy (not that he would ever admit it, of course) that he could almost forget the biggest reason that he hated Christmas.
He had been sleeping for a while when he woke to a gentle prod in his scaly side.
“Are you awake, my dear?”
Crowley instantly came alert. There was something in Aziraphale’s voice that wasn’t just the normal holiday cheer. Not something wrong, exactly, but definitely a heightened sense of excitement made the angel’s voice shake. It was like when he managed to locate one of his precious first edition books that he had thought lost forever, but even more exuberant than that. Crowley’s eyes snapped open and peered at Aziraphale through the pine needles.
“Alright, Angel?” he hissed, flicking out his tongue to test the air. There was a new scent in the bookshop, one that he didn’t recognize. Alarm bells started ringing in his head as he looked into Aziraphale’s face, but Aziraphale was smiling. No, not smiling… he was beaming.
“We have a visitor, Crowley!” Aziraphale held out a hand and Crowley slowly slithered out and twined around his arm, looking doubtfully around. “A very special guest!”
“ ‘s almost midnight,” Crowley grumped. “Who’s visiting now?”
“It’s a surprise!” Aziraphale hummed, and with a bounce in his step he turned and brought the little black snake into the kitchen.
Sitting at the polished table was a large, jolly-looking fellow. He had on a red suit trimmed in the softest-looking white fur Crowley had seen since before the flood, with a snowy beard and blue eyes that twinkled merrily as he took in his two hosts. A red hat sat on the table next to a steaming cup of tea, and a plate of half-eaten biscuits beside them.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Crowley disentangled himself from Aziraphale’s grip and slid to the floor. With a deep breath, he let himself lengthen and stretch until he regained his human form, running a hand through his fiery red hair to make sure not a strand was out of place.
“Hello, Crowley,” the stranger greeted. His voice was deep and jolly, and despite himself Crowley felt a sense of peace in his presence.
“Well. What to my wondering eyes do appear?” the demon replied, arms crossed tightly. Aziraphale bustled around, a manic energy exuding from him as he finished gathering Crowley’s favorite coffee mug and putting in several strong shots of espresso. He pulled a chair over for the demon before sliding back into his own seat, fingers closing around a piping hot cup of cocoa with a huge dollop of whipped cream but far too excited to take even a sip.
As Crowley slowly moved towards the table, he noticed with surprise that Santa’s leg stuck out from underneath the table. It was wrapped in a stiff cast, with signatures in tiny scripts covering almost every inch of it. Glancing around, he saw a pair of crutches leaning in a corner, and all the pieces started falling into place.
“Crowley,” Santa started with a sigh. “I’m afraid I’ve been in an accident.”
Crowley glanced at Aziraphale, but it was clear that he had already heard the news. The angel was watching him intently … as much as he could with his eyes darting back to their guest every few seconds, as though he were afraid that Santa would disappear if he took his attention away for even a moment.
“I see,” Crowley said, testing out the conversation without offering anything.
“It’s two days to Christmas,” Santa continued, “and there is no way that I’ll be able to deliver all the toys like this! I can hardly make it to the sleigh, let alone up to the chimneys. Rudolph was injured too— now Aziraphale, no long faces, he’s alright. But the elves said that it’ll be at least a month before he can fly again, so there’s no one to lead the team of reindeer.”
“Hmm. Well, that does sound … inconvenient.” A cold feeling of dread was building in Crowley’s stomach, but, eternal optimist that he was, he held out hope that things were not turning out like he feared they were.
“What happened, if I might be so bold?” Aziraphale asked. Seems the angel hadn’t gotten the full story after all, Crowley thought. At least he wasn’t too far behind.
“Oh, it was such a ridiculous mistake of mine.” Santa stared down into the curls of steam from his cup. “I’m actually quite embarrassed about the whole thing. You see, the elves were celebrating finishing the presents, and I was getting ready to take the sleigh out on a test run. The elves went out to prepare the sleigh, and asked me to wait in the workshop while they took care of things. On the counters were a few mugs of milk, and, well, I suppose I drank one.”
“Drank one?” Crowley asked.
“Perhaps more than one,” Santa replied sheepishly. “I thought it was just milk, but as it turns out, they like to celebrate a touch harder than this old elf…”
“Boozed up the milk, did they,” Crowley chuckled, leaning his chair back on its back legs. “Eggnog, was it?”
“Crowley,” Aziraphale said, warning in his tone, but Santa waved his concerns away.
“No … you are right, Crowley. I’m afraid to say I was quite drunk. We didn’t make it very far before I — I — drove us into a snowbank.” Santa covered his face in his hands, too ashamed to look at his hosts. Aziraphale made soft calming noises, while Crowley rolled his eyes. After a minute Santa managed to get hold of himself, and wiped at his eyes as he took a bracing sip of tea.
“Thank you, Aziraphale,” he said, clearing his throat and settling himself more firmly on the seat. “Well, poor Rudolph took the brunt of the crash. He won’t be flying anytime soon. The rest of the team are fine, just a little jumpy, which is understandable. I was thrown from the sleigh as it hit, and ended up breaking my leg. Well, it’s my own fault, I can’t complain … but I also can’t drive the sleigh like this.”
“Oh dear.” Aziraphale’s tone made Crowley cringe. He knew that tone of voice. The angel was about to do something generous. Probably planning on getting him involved, too, if Crowley didn’t know any better. “How awful. And the children!”
“Yes!” Santa reached forward and grabbed Aziraphale’s hands, gentle blue eyes meeting gentle grey eyes, and Crowley felt his stomach going into free fall. “You understand! How could we let the children be so disappointed?”
“No presents on Christmas!”
“Imagine all those sad faces!”
“Crowley!” The hairs on the back of Crowley’s neck stood at attention as Aziraphale turned his way, the look of anguish he had been wearing transforming into a stubborn look that Crowley instantly knew would not be swayed. “We have to help!”
“Um, do we?” Crowley’s eyebrows rose almost to his hairline as he stared at Aziraphale.
“Yes.” He turned to Santa. “What do you need us to do?”
“I knew that coming here was the right thing to do,” Santa said, relief flooding his face. “Aziraphale, you are a very good angel.” Aziraphale blushed in pleasure at the praise.
“I could have told him that,” Crowley muttered, but neither of them were listening.
“Who better to take my place than the angel set to protect this world? The sleigh will be fixed up right as rain by Christmas Eve. Aziraphale, will you deliver the toys to all the good boys and girls around the world? You’re the only one that I can trust with this very important mission!”
Aziraphale gasped, stars dancing in his eyes as he turned towards Crowley like he couldn’t believe his ears. Crowley sighed, rubbing at a temple. He could feel a headache coming on.
“And you, Crowley,” Santa continued, and Crowley froze at the sound of his name. “I will need someone to pull the sleigh, now that Rudolph is out of commission. Won’t you do it?”
“ ‘M not a bloody reindeer,” Crowley growled. “See you outside for a minute, Angel?”
Hands jammed in his pockets, Crowley stalked from the room. Aziraphale gave Santa a sheepish grin and quickly followed him out. Santa just smiled and took a sip from his cup, humming a Christmas carol softly under his breath.
Crowley stopped after a few steps, and Aziraphale looked up at him expectantly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Crowley grimaced at the undamped enthusiasm oozing out of him.
“We are not actually considering this, are we?” he snapped. A faint hope bloomed in his chest as the smile faded from Aziraphale’s lips, but to his dismay he saw the angel’s expression settle into that stubborn face that he could recognize so well.
“Of course we’re going to help!” Aziraphale said crisply, and he couldn’t keep a little wiggle out of his hips as he spoke. Crowley was disappointed in how much that wiggle swayed him.
“Angel! Jolly old St. Nick in there got hammered and drove his sleigh into a snowbank.”
“It wasn’t his fault!” Aziraphale shot a quick look towards their guest before turning intently towards Crowley. “I know you are not the most enthusiastic at Christmas, my dear, but this is the right thing to do. Think of the children!” he threw out as he saw the stubborn set of Crowley’s jaw as a last ditch effort.
Crowley took a deep breath, but they both knew that the fight had already been won.
“Father Christmas needs us!”
“Father Christmas? Really, Angel?”
“Well … Santa just feels too informal,” Aziraphale replied, shifting a little in his discomfort. He held out his hand, gazing into Crowley’s golden eyes, glowing gently in the dim light of the bookshop. With an enormous sigh, Crowley reached out and shook his hand. Aziraphale beamed. Crowley winced back, worried that in his excitement Aziraphale might start sprouting wheels and wings and several extra sets of eyes, but the angel managed to tamp down his overflowing excitement and, holding tightly to his corporation, he turned on his heel and headed back towards the kitchenette.
“Oh, wonderful news!” Crowley could imagine the look on Aziraphale’s face as he made his announcement to the jolly old elf sipping tea. “We’d love to help.”
Christmas Eve came even faster than Crowley thought it would. That old saying was right, he supposed. The less you wanted to do something, the faster it arrived. He had a sneaking suspicion that he had been responsible for that feeling, but he couldn’t quite remember. Regardless, Christmas Eve day dawned bright and clear, and Crowley found himself standing in the snow before the cozy house Santa shared with his wife. Beside it was a large workshop, and across a snow filled courtyard was the stable that housed the reindeer.
It was so cold. Crowley folded in on himself, his face set in a mask of long suffering, but Aziraphale had eyes only for the man that opened the door for them, storm-grey eyes gleaming in delight as they were ushered inside.
Inside the house, Mrs. Claus greeted them with a warm smile and a plate full of nibbles. Huge mugs of hot chocolate with gooey marshmallows were set on the table by several elves, and the sight of the joy on Aziraphale’s face was enough to resign the demon into going along with the plan.
“It’s so good of you to help out,” Mrs. Claus said, passing Aziraphale another large cookie. Crowley held onto the one she gave him and slipped it to Aziraphale when he finished his own.
All too soon, night fell. Aziraphale, dressed in Santa's Christmas suit, settled himself into the driver’s seat of the sleigh, patting down the soft white fur that tickled his neck. He couldn’t help a little wiggle of excitement as he picked up the reins. Santa and Mrs. Claus stood together, smiling up at him. A minute passed … then another…
“Crowley?” Aziraphale called out, his brow wrinkling as he looked around for the demon. From inside the stable, a loud groaning echoed out through the crisp winter air.
“ ‘M not doing this, Angel.”
“We already talked about it, my dear,” Aziraphale replied patiently. “We need someone to pull the sleigh.”
“You can pull the sleigh. You’re the strong one. I’ll do the driving. ‘M good at driving.”
Aziraphale smiled gently and slid out of the sleigh. He padded over to the door of the stable, his boots crunching in the snow. As he approached the door, he stopped where his toes just edged into the light streaming from the crack in the door.
“What’s the matter, my dear?” he asked.
“...”
“Crowley, I would love for you to help me.”
“... Wanna help, Angel.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“... feel sssilly.”
“Oh…” Aziraphale smiled indulgently at the faint hissing. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not up for,” he replied gently. “But the faster we can finish this, the faster we can get back to the bookshop where it’s warm and I can give you your present.”
There was a pause.
“You got a present for me?”
“Yes, my dear, of course I have. I do so look forward to seeing how you like it.” There was a long silence, and then a sigh that Aziraphale recognized. The sound of a demon giving in.
“ ‘lright, Angel. I’ll do it.” The stable door pushed open, and from inside a large black reindeer with red fur along its belly and bright, glowing snake eyes stepped forth. He wore a red leather harness, festooned with bells that jingled with every step.
“Oh.” Aziraphale froze, looking with wonder at Crowley as he paced forward, giving his head a shake and feeling the weight of his horns, sending the bells jingle-jangling. “Oh, my, Crowley, you look … I mean, that is to say…”
“Tongue tied? That’s not like you,” Crowley chuckled. Seeing Aziraphale so flustered helped to settle his own ruffled feelings. He paced forward towards the sleigh, turning his head to glance over his shoulder where Aziraphale was still staring after him, motionless in the snow. “Come on, Angel, let’s get this over with.
Bouncing off the sleigh, Aziraphale felt his black boots crunch into the snow as he made his way to the chimney that released a steady stream of smoke into the night air.
“Pretty narrow, Angel,” Crowley said, tossing his head to a chorus of jingles. The other reindeer sat quietly and waited as the two of them looked at the chimney. “You gonna be alright?”
“Oh, yes … tickety-boo!” Aziraphale blustered, but his eyes couldn’t hide the concern that he felt. “Father Christmas does this all the time, you know!” He edged his way up the slope of the roof until he could peer down the narrow flue. “Um … well, it is awfully tight, isn’t it?” “Angel, you are Father Christmas now!” Crowley stamped a hoof to accentuate his words. “Just do, you know, what he would do.”
“What he would do.” Aziraphale stood quietly for a moment, contemplating all that he knew about Santa Claus. He squared his shoulders, held the present tightly to his chest, and took a deep breath. He placed one finger against the side of his nose and gave a firm nod. And just like that, down the chimney he went! Crowley couldn’t help taking a step back in surprise. A few minutes that felt like hours passed, and then Aziraphale popped up out of the chimney, a broad smile on his face and slightly breathless.
“I say!” he beamed. “That was invigorating!”
“Are those cookie crumbs on your suit, Angel?” Aziraphale’s cheeks burned scarlet as he bashfully brushed at his front.
“Well, it would have been rude to leave them,” he muttered. “For the children, really.”
“Nothing for the reindeer, then? Good shot of whiskey or anything?”
“Really, my dear,” Aziraphale sniffed, haughty getting back onto the sleigh. “That’s exactly the kind of thing that led to all this trouble in the first place. Now, let’s get a wiggle on! We’ve got a long way to go, and I think I’m just starting to get the hang of this!”
“Really? A wiggle?”
“Come on, Crowley! Dash away!”
“You’re getting too into this, Angel.”
The sun was already beaming in the windows of the bookshop Christmas morning when Crowley and Aziraphale returned to London. Crowley bounded up the stairs to the front doors, in a trippingly good mood now that the ordeal was over.
“Lovely to be home, eh, Angel?” Crowley said as he pushed open the doors. He took off his glasses, ready to throw them on the counter as the doors swung shut. But before he had a chance, Aziraphale reached out and grabbed him by the arm, pushing him firmly against the wall next to the door.
“Ngk?” Crowley managed, before the angel’s teeth were grazing his neck and his thoughts were threatening to explode like a supernova.
“It’s time for your present, Crowley,” Aziraphale purred against the soft skin just above the demon’s clavicle. Crowley felt his skin tingle at the low tone of the angel’s voice.
“M- my present?” he gasped.
“Indeed.” Aziraphale’s hands were drifting across his chest and pushing the jacket from his shoulders while his tongue was busy doing several truly wicked things he had learned from Crowley just under the demon’s jaw.
The angel pressing against him was relentless. One finely manicured hand raked into his hair while the other drifted down the leather vest he wore, playing with the buttons. “Of course you will get to unwrap your own present, dear. But would you be amenable to me going first this time?”
“Mm-hmm, yep, amenable, that’s me,” Crowley babbled, lost in the flood of sensations. With a deep chuckle Aziraphale gave a final pull to Crowley’s hair, eliciting a moan that made the angel smirk. Then his hands dropped down. Crowley hardly had time to feel the tugging at his belt before his pants were roughly pulled to his ankles and Aziraphale’s fingers were wrapping around his cock.
“Ooohhhh, Angel…” Crowley gasped as Aziraphale knelt and slowly began to lick up the underside of the shaft. His arms scrabbled at the wall, trying to find support as his knees threatened to buckle. Aziraphale teased over the sensitive head, taking his time running his tongue over the slit and moaning over the drops of precome that were already starting to form.
“Alright, dear?” Aziraphale looked up, and the sight of that cherubic face, kneeling between his legs, almost discorporated Crowley on the spot. The angel’s lips were hovering just a millimeter from him, and Crowley could feel the heat of his breath, hardening him even as Aziraphale stopped to check in.
“Please … don’t stop,” he whined. With a chuckle, Aziraphale returned his attention to the meal before him, and took Crowley into his mouth. The warm wetness of it, the slide in and out as Aziraphale’s tongue whirled and teased against him … it was so good, everything that he had been dreaming of. His hips slowly rocked forward, hesitantly at first, but as Aziraphale made encouraging noises, he began to move in earnest. Aziraphale slipped a hand around his waist, digging his fingers into the hard planes of Crowley’s ass, pulling him closer as he swallowed Crowley down to the hilt.
“Fuck, Angel.” Crowley clutched at the soft blue fabric covering the angel’s shoulders. It was all Crowley could do to keep his footing as he felt himself swept along in a flood of pleasure. Aziraphale reached up and gently moved Crowley’s hands from his shoulders to the back of his head. Surprised, Crowley glanced down, but without stopping, Aziraphale looked up at him, stormy eyes intent as Crowley curled his fingers into soft white curls.
Crowley’s breath hitched at what he was being offered, and he buried his fingers deeply in Aziraphale’s hair. He fucked into the angel’s mouth, gently at first, and then more and more roughly as he raced towards his climax. Unable to focus, he was a being of sensation as he rocked forward again and again, his breath coming in gasps and his skin on fire with desire. Aziraphale was pliant in his hands, opening his throat and letting Crowley use him.
“Hah … oh … Aziraphale … how …” Crowley was so hard … he had never been this hard before. Needy little sounds were dripping from the angel's lips as his fingers tightened around Crowley’s thighs, encouraging Crowley as he greedily took every thrust. Each moan pushed Crowley that much further until with a final cry his back arched, stars flashing in his eyes as he came.
He took a shuddering breath, leaning his head back against the wall as his hands absentmindedly began the futile work of smoothing down Aziraphale’s curls from where he had held them so tightly. Aziraphale held him in his mouth until the aftershocks were over, and then slowly drew back, licking his lips and swallowing while keeping his eyes on Crowley. There was a cheeky smile on his face as he stood, gently pushing sweat-laden hair out of Crowley’s face.
“Merry Christmas, Crowley.”
“Mmm…” Crowley sighed happily. “Merry Christmas, Angel. Might be starting to change my mind about Christmas, if it’s always like this.”
Aziraphale chuckled. “Oh, it’s not over yet, my dear. Are you ready to open your present now?”
Crowley’s cock twitched in interest as Aziraphale leaned in and kissed him. “Oh, yes,” he whispered as they drew apart, his eyes heavily lidded as he tried to keep Aziraphale in focus. “ ‘M ready!”
“Then come upstairs,” Aziraphale purred, and turned to climb the stairs that led to the second floor and Aziraphale’s private rooms, Crowley right on his heels.
