Happy Holidays, Tyrotheterrible!

[vulgarweed.livejournal.com]

Deeper Water
For: tyrotheterrible
From: A Secret!
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley

Aziraphale was sitting happily on the park bench when he suddenly discovered that even the ducks didn’t think tartan was stylish anymore. He was about to launch into his usual lecture about the circular nature of fashion when he abruptly realised he shouldn’t be able to hear the ducks’ thoughts and shut his mouth sharply with a snap. He stayed for another few moment and listened to the ducks wonder impatiently when he was going to throw the last piece of bread, and whether he could get multigrain next time, as it was easier to digest, and automatically threw what was left of the roll into the lake in front o f him[1]. He stood quickly, and walked jerkily back to his bookshop, where he dropped down onto the stool behind the desk and sagged.

He lay his head into his arms and suddenly remembered a missive from Above that he’d honestly meant to read and, after a dusty search, found it folded up and supporting one corner of the desk. It glinted at him in an affronted way and then flattened itself out so he could read it.

Greetings Aziraphale, Angel of the Gate and Field Agent,

As a result of the event which may or may not have happened some few weeks ago, We have decided that further research is required to continue to provide Our children on Earth with the support and encouragement to Do Good and Reject All Evil. To this end, We have endowed you, Our Representative in this matter, with the ability to Read Minds.

We trust you will use this ability to report to Us on the changing needs of Our children and keep its existence from the Demon Crowley, the representative of Our fallen brother.

Yours in Trust,

The Metatron et al.

Well. That did explain a lot. The little piece of paper glinted in a slightly mocking way and then disappeared as Aziraphale sat down heavily on the stool again. The ability to read minds. What good could that really do? He supposed he may have been growing a little out of touch with the Children – er children – of the Lord, but how different could desires really be? One still lusted, he supposed. That couldn’t really have changed. Even Adam and Eve lusted, what with him stumbling upon them in all manner of strange places. He admitted that gluttony had probably risen in the last millenia or so, with more devices and gadgets and ways to measure wealth, but it could be easily brought under control if he had a chat to Crowley. Greed – see above. Sloth was becoming a bit of a problem, he agreed. America was a case in point, but there wasn’t much mind reading powers could do about that. Wrath remained constant; there were less swords about these days, but motor cars were a very inflammatory invention to the human temper. Envy – same old, same old. And pride – well there wasn’t a lot a humble angel could do about that, was there?

But he was only an angel and he therefore had a duty to fulfil. He thought longingly of the new first edition Bronte collection he’d been promising himself but dutifully picked himself up from his stool and set about trying to change the world.

Which turned out to be no easier than it had ever been. Apparently just knowing what people were thinking didn’t stop them doing it. He could gently suggest that they try the meatloaf instead of the waiter with the nice smile but really humans were about the most stubborn creatures he’d ever encountered. He spent a lot of time sitting around concentrating very hard on people which earned him some strange looks, but all the mind reading powers really gave him was a headache. It was very hard to focus when he had the mental voices of everyone in his immediate vicinity clambering for attention inside his head. As he had discovered earlier, even the ducks were involved in dramas of their own. He hadn’t known it before, but apparently the little brown duck with the injured wing was trying to court the gorgeous drake with the blue underwing, but he didn’t know she existed. It was all very saddening.

Then of course there were the humans.

It was only one kiss, that doesn’t make me gay, does it?

The new Windows 7 is rubbish, of course, but everyone else at the office has it.

I should get up and go back to college but this park is so nice and nobody will even notice if I’m not there anyway.

Get off the road, you maniac!

Aziraphale looks like a real idiot right now, what’s he doing? Meditating? Wait – what?

Aziraphale opened his eyes and blinked and found himself staring at someone’s legs clad in designer black trousers. His gaze travelled upwards and he realised the designer trousers belonged to Crowley – co-conspirator in the ApocaWasn’t, and familiar demonic presence.

‘Hello, my dear,’ Aziraphale said once his senses returned to him. ‘Er – how are you?’

‘Fine, thanksss. ‘ Better now. ‘How are you?’

‘Oh, fine, fine.’ Aziraphale said, taken aback, as Crowley never asked how he was. Crowley narrowed his eyes.

That’s good, because when I saw that missive from your people, I thought -

‘Well, if you say so, Angel,’ he replied dismissively. ‘And I’m fairly sure I don’t want to know, but – what are you doing?’

‘Oh er – bird watching.’ Aziraphale and Crowley both blinked in surprise when they heard this, because Crowley had never seen Aziraphale more than vaguely interested in birds, and Aziraphale had very seriously meant to tell Crowley the truth. It occurred to him mid-sentence, however, that he could actually learn a lot about the demon from his private thoughts, and his subconscious had already realised that what Crowley thought and what Crowley said were definitively different things.

‘Bird watching,’ Crowley repeated. ‘Why?’

‘Missive from Above,’ Aziraphale said. ‘Um – investigate the behaviours of the birds to discover the differences between His intentions and the current result.’

‘Oh,’ Crowley said. ‘Well – I was going to invite you to lunch, but if you have work to do –’

‘No, it’s fine,’ Aziraphale said hurriedly. ‘It can wait.’

Crowley raised an eyebrow.

‘Well if you’re ssure.’

‘Of course, my dear,’ Aziraphale said, and rose a little unsteadily to his feet, fighting to regain some equilibrium. ‘The Ritz?’

‘The Ritz,’ Crowley agreed after a moment, giving Aziraphale an assessing look that made the angel slightly uncomfortable. ‘You look flushed, angel.’ He commented, as they headed towards the Bentley. And as much as I might like seeing you flushed and flustered under other circumstances, you are worrying me slightly right now and I dislike it.

‘Oh!’ Aziraphale replied, trying not to choke. ‘I imagine I stood up too quickly.’ He explained, at Crowley’s raised eyebrow. He floundered for some other topic of conversation. ‘How has your tempting been today, my dear?’

‘Passable, I suppose,’ Crowley replied, opening the door of the Bentley for him. ‘It’s terribly difficult to feel suitably proud of tempting when humankind is losing its morality more every year. I start to suggest they try a large mocha chino instead of a small only to find they’ve already ordered it, with double the cream. I hint that maybe a good snog in the park with the married security guard would be fun and I blink and they’re already at it like rabbits under the ferns. I suspect I am becoming obsolete.’

‘Oh, I should imagine not,’ Aziraphale murmured, holding onto the seat tightly. ‘Perhaps all your hard work the last few millenniums is paying off. You know, self-tempting souls and all that.’

Crowley brightened.

‘I suppose so. Though what Down There will do with me if that’s true, I don’t know,’ And I’d really rather not leave you – er – here.

‘Well, I shall always be here to thwart you, my dear,’ Aziraphale said comfortingly and patted Crowley’s knee. ‘If the balance is shifting that much then Someone is sure to take notice, and I’ll have to start working a lot harder. And then you’ll have to be here to keep everything in check, won’t you?’

‘Would the Agreement stand for that, do you think?’ Crowley asked thoughtfully and they left the car in the hands of the valet[2] and made their way into the restaurant. ‘Would we have to go back to smiting each other on sight? I might be out of practice.’

‘Me too,’ Aziraphale admitted, flexing his shoulders. He heard a hiss from Crowley that he knew was supposed to be private but glanced up in time to see the demon staring at him with a very strange expression on his face. As Aziraphale opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, Crowley realised he was staring and his face morphed into a glare that shut Aziraphale up before he could speak.

‘Where is that sword of yours, anyway, angel,’ the demon asked as they took their seats.

‘Oh, it’s around,’ Aziraphale answered. ‘Just in case your brethren come knocking at your door while you’re indisposed.’

‘I am never indisposed,’ Crowley said indignantly. ‘I am occasionally unavailable but not indisposed. I am a demon, not a lady with the vapours.’

‘Quite so, my dear,’ Aziraphale chuckled and Crowley sulked.

‘And anyway,’ Crowley continued after their meals arrived. ‘Why would you need a sword if my co-workers came for me? What business is it of yours if I am sent below?’

Aziraphale paused over his Caesar salad and looked hurt.

‘My dear, I’ve known you since before time began. I think I sang with before the Fall, we hung out in the garden, we’ve chased each other over the globe to try different restaurants, and I’ve lived down the road from you for a good period of time. I think I’m qualified to care whether you are removed, and to stop that happening if I can.’ Aziraphale closed his mouth with a snap and glared at Crowley across the table, who stared back as if slapped.

‘Angel, I –’

‘Leave it,’ Aziraphale said tiredly. ‘I apologise.’

Oh, angel, you’re killing me here, Crowley thought sadly and stared down at his lunch, for which he had suddenly lost his appetite.

Their lunch passed in unusual silence, Aziraphale unaccountably assailed with hundreds of images of himself – memories – some he shared and some he didn’t. He saw himself at their first smiting – glorious with divine rage; in the garden, indiscriminately chatting with a demon snake; smiling happily at the acquisition of a first edition; the faint uneasiness in his face at the forging of the agreement; brushing the hair out of Crowley’s face after he had fallen asleep on the couch; and – Aziraphale blinked – his arse, surrounded tightly by faded tartan pants, as he bent over the counter for the hidden bottle of cognac. And after that the quality of the images changed, as though the thought had trigged an avalanche of similar images. He saw himself reaching for a book on a high shelf[3] and for the first time noticed Crowley’s sly, assessing glance over the top of his sunglasses. He saw the shape of his thigh as he sat in the Bentley, watched Crowley’s eyes track the movement of his hands as he spoke, or smoothed out the wrinkles in his vest.

How had he never noticed this observation before? And what did it mean?

He was startled out of his thoughts by the soft pressure of a hand on his shoulder and he glanced over to find Crowley looking at him. He seemed about to say something but then just squeezed the angel’s shoulder and moved past him towards the Bentley.

‘I have an excellent pinot noir if you’re interested,’ Crowley offered as they settled into the car.

‘I – thank you, my dear,’ Aziraphale said distractedly. ‘But I think it’s better if I just – that is, there’s some work I have to do at the bookshop.’

‘Oh,’ Crowley said quietly. ‘Well, if that’sss all, angel.’

‘Yes, thank you, Crowley,’ Aziraphale replied and the drive back to Soho was silent, punctuated only by a ‘really, Crowley, was a three car pile-up really necessary?’ and made up for it by arranging for a bus to arrive on time for a girl running late.

Crowley pulled up to the curb with a dramatic screech and they sat in silence for a moment with the car ticking with heat until Crowley spoke.

‘Listen, angel, I’m not good with this “being concerned” thing, so can you just tell me what’s bothering you?’

‘I – it’s nothing, Crowley. Thank you for worrying.’ Aziraphale replied with a smile and unconsciously patted the demon on the leg. For the first time he noticed the tightening around Crowley’s eyes when he touched him and cursed this mind reading for disrupting his view of his friend.

‘Oh, I’m not worried,’ Crowley said, putting his hands up defensively. ‘I’m just – curious. You’re not yourself. In the interest of the agreement, it behooves me to find out why.’

Aziraphale stared.

‘Is it that hard to admit you’re worried?’

Crowley said stiffly in the seat.

‘I am not worried. I will see you later, angel.’

Aziraphale realised this was a dismissal and stepped out of the car with relief. He needed to be alone right now to think a few things over. Such as why on earth Crowley had such a frequency to think of Aziraphale’s body parts, and why these thoughts were tinged with a strange feeling Aziraphale had long forgotten about. And why did Crowley store a memory of Aziraphale brushing hair out of the demon’s eyes close to his heart? He’d always known that the demon felt more affection for him than he let on, but this definitely felt like something else.

And the thing was, Aziraphale thought as he made himself a cup of tea, knowing that Crowley thought of him like that made Aziraphale think of him back. For the first time he really noticed the way Crowley looked. The fringe that fell over his forehead and the strange smouldering fire in his eyes when the angel got to see them without the glasses; the pale skin offset by dark hair and the careful way he dressed; the long fingers negligently gripping the steering wheel or wrapped around a scotch glass; the straight line of his back, and the curve of his shoulder; and the slender figure beneath the tailored clothes, tantalisingly hidden beneath white shirts.

Also, Crowley was the kind of demon who wore a tie simply to undo it and leave it hanging around his neck. This, Aziraphale was discovering, was something he apparently really liked. A lot. So much so that his cock[4] was urging him to pay attention to it, and Aziraphale couldn’t remember the last time he’d been interested in paying attention to it. But right now it was very difficult to think of anything else, and with a blush and a half-formed prayer that he not be damned[5] he tentatively reached down into his pants and gripped his cock lightly in one hand.

It felt strange, and foreign, but not unpleasant so he tightened his grip and moved it incrementally. It felt nice so he did it again and heat moved slowly up his spine. He relaxed a little more as the pleasure washed over him and he sped up a little, wondering at the feelings that spread through him. He noticed, in some far reaches of his mind, that he really enjoyed the feeling of a cock in his hand, and also that he was unconsciously picturing Crowley as he pleasured himself. This realisation caused a small frisson of shock down his spine but then the image of the demon’s pink, inviting lips came to mind and the increase in pleasure at this image was enough to stop him questioning it right now. He concentrated on the picture of Crowley’s lips, what they looked like after he wet them with his tongue, and what they might feel like on Aziraphale’s own lips. He shocked himself when he found himself wondering what they would look like wrapped around his cock and his hand tightened on his shaft, moaning a little as he thought about the warm, wet heat of Crowley’s mouth, and his hips thrust a little of their own accord. He increased his speed, listening to his own breathing and imagining it was Crowley’s, flushed and aroused beneath him. He thought about the demon, spread out on a bed, wearing nothing but an open white shirt and a loosened tie, erect penis red and glistening, and pictured Crowley writhing as the angel licked a line down his stomach.

Aziraphale licked his lips at the thought of tasting Crowley’s skin, and wondered what the demon tasted like elsewhere and then he was lost, moaning, as he thought about how Crowley’s cock would feel inside his mouth. He felt an intense feeling begin low in his stomach and realised he was very close to completion. He tightened his fist and pumped harder, imagining Crowley’s face as he reached climax, heard him panting and struggling for breath, and came with a cry as he imagined Crowley’s nails raking down his back.

He returned to himself gradually, slowly becoming aware of the haggardness of his breath and the cooling handful of come he was holding in his palm. He was immediately assailed by guilt and the realisation he was probably in love with Crowley. He removed his hand from his pants and miracled away the mess in his fist and then immediately dropped his head into his hands. This was a disaster. No wonder human evolution never included mind reading; it was terrible. He had been completely blissful not knowing how he felt about his demon friend.

It occurred to him some time into his second glass of scotch, this whole thing had started when he heard Crowley thinking about him. Was there a chance..? It wasn’t impossible, he supposed. Crowley certainly seemed to be attracted to him, which was a start. He brightened considerably as he thought of this. There was definitely hope, then. Although – what could he possibly hope to achieve with this? A relationship with an angel and a demon? It was almost an oxymoron. He sighed into his scotch but then the sound of the front door opening startled him and he turned around and jumped when he saw the object of his musings striding towards him.

‘Aziraphale,’ Crowley said, taking off his glasses and planting his hands on the desk in front of the angel, ‘I demand that you tell me what’s going on.’ You’re drinking without me. And you’re flushed. This isn’t fair. And I’m leaning over you. I like this.

Aziraphale stared up into the demon’s face, mesmerised by the look in his eyes and the thoughts running through his head.

You look so good right now, angel. Bite your lip, go on. I love it when you do that.

Aziraphale automatically bit his lip. Crowley’s eyes darkened. Flustered, Aziraphale ran a hand through his hair and felt a mental shiver from the demon.

Oh, yes, Aziraphale. Do that again.

Aziraphale did.

Why aren’t you saying anything? You’re just sitting there staring at me. Something must be very wrong. What can have happened? Also, I can see your nipples through that shirt.

Aziraphale flushed and made a move to cross his arms across his chest.

No, don’t do that. Why would you –

And suddenly Aziraphale could no longer hear Crowley’s thoughts and he paled. Crowley knew. The demon stared at him with narrowed eyes, calculating.

You can read my thoughts, can’t you? The demon sent carefully, concealing all surrounding emotions.

Aziraphale gave a timid nod and watched Crowley’s face transform. A blank mask descended and he stepped back from the desk.

If you can hear me then you know –

Aziraphale nodded again.

Crowley turned sharply on his heel and strode back through the bookshop.

‘Crowley, wait!’ Aziraphale cried, standing up and finding his voice at last. ‘Please!’

‘Why?’ Crowley demanded, spinning around to face him, his eyes furious. ‘You read my thoughts without my knowledge. Discovered private information about me. You could have done who knows what with the information inside my head. I thought we had an agreement, I thought we were – well, obviously not.’

‘Crowley, please! I was going to tell you – Upstairs decided they needed to know more about human behaviour – and I meant to tell you, I really did, but then you thought such nice things about me, and I just didn’t and then I couldn’t tell you because I knew you’d be angry and then ...’ he looked at his feet, miserable.

Crowley considered him.

‘And what of the things you found inside my head?’ he asked mockingly. ‘What did you think?’

‘I liked them,’ Aziraphale said softly, looking up from under his lashes. Crowley stiffened.

‘I’m warning you, angel,’ he said.

‘I did,’ Aziraphale insisted. ‘That’s why I didn’t tell you. I liked that you thought those things about me ... that you thought about me at all.’

He took a step towards the demon, who instinctively moved back, but Aziraphale was determined, and followed him.

‘I liked knowing that you look at my thigh when we’re in the Bentley. I liked knowing that you like my hands. It made me make an effort.’

Crowley’s eyes widened in surprise.

‘You’ve been making an effort?’

‘Not until I heard your thoughts,’ Aziraphale admitted and stepped closer, until Crowley’s back was against the door, and Aziraphale stood flush against him. ‘Can you tell?’ he whispered into the demon’s ear. Crowley shivered.

‘Sstop it, angel,’ he said, but didn’t try to push him away.

‘Why?’ Aziraphale asked him, nuzzling the skin behind his ear.

‘You still lied to me,’ Crowley replied. ‘And I’m ... mmm ... still angry with you.’

‘Then why are your hands around my hips?’ the angel asked, and flicked open the first button on Crowley’s shirt.

Crowley gave a helpless smile.1

‘You’re very persssuasive,’ he said, and Aziraphale kissed him. Crowley gasped into it and then responded, exploring Aziraphale’s mouth in a way that turned the angel’s insides to liquid. The demon’s hands left Aziraphale’s hips. One slid inside the angel’s tartan pants, the other to the back of his head, tangling in the curls. Aziraphale instinctively pressed the demon harder against the door and was rewarded with Crowley’s deep groan. Aziraphale felt it reverberate through his chest and he had to latch onto Crowley’s neck to contain the feelings running through him.

He blinked when he found himself up against the door, but was grateful for it when Crowley slid a hand inside his shirt, and his knees went weak.

‘Crowley!’ he gasped and felt the demon smirk.

‘Yesss?’ he hissed.

‘I-ohh- ’ he groaned and kissed Crowley again. He could feel Crowley hard against his thigh, and impulsively reached a hand down to palm him through his trousers.

‘Angel,’ Crowley ground out, and rested his forehead against Aziraphale’s. He opened his eyes and stared straight into the angel’s. ‘Do you have any idea what you’re doing?’

‘Not really,’ the angel admitted with a half-laugh. ‘But – I really want this. Does it matter?’ He squeezed Crowley again and the demon shuddered.

‘No,’ he said, and thrust into the angel’s hand, pinching one of Aziraphale’s nipples, which made the angel yelp and the demon smirk. Aziraphale made quick work of the rest of the buttons on Crowley’s shirt and pushed it off his shoulders at the same time the demon helped him out of his own. The sight of Crowley shirtless in his bookshop had Aziraphale closing his eyes for a second, but when he opened them, the demon was standing there watching him.

‘Are you sure this is –’ he began, but Aziraphale undid his belt buckle in reply and any doubts were lost in the complicated procedure of removing belts, undoing buttons, unzipping zips, and slipping off shoes.

Eventually they stood clad in their underwear, chests heaving, in the middle of Fell’s Rare and Antique Books.

‘Is there any chance we could go somewhere else?’ the demon asked, winding himself around the angel, who licked a line along Crowley’s collarbone.

‘Like where?’ he asked.

‘Some sort of bedroom?’ the demon replied with a wry smile and a raised eyebrow. Aziraphale blushed.

‘Oh – hang on,’ and waved his hand. ‘Okay. We’re good now.’

‘Did you just miracle up a bedroom?’

Aziraphale paused.

‘No?’ But Crowley’s eyes laughed at him and he blushed again. ‘Yes.’

‘Good,’ the demon growled and pushed the angel towards the back of the store, where he encountered a basic but functional bedroom up some newly-arrived stairs. They had to stop three times for Aziraphale to push Crowley up against the wall but eventually they made it to the bed, scrambling on top of it like children.

Aziraphale lowered himself on top of the demon, taking time to feel the delicious slide of Crowley’s skin against his own. He listened to the demon’s ragged breathing, kissing down his neck, his chest, and spent enough time on each nipple that the demon was threatening him with inconvenient discorporation if he didn’t hurry the fuck up. He finally reached the demon’s underwear and slid it off with one smooth movement, winking at Crowley as he did so. He turned his attention to the flushed cock in front of him. He took an experimental lick of the tip and found the taste salty but not off-putting. He licked it again, experimenting, and heard Crowley hiss.

‘It’s not an ice cream, angel,’ he said, glaring at him. Aziraphale smiled.

‘No,’ he agreed. ‘But I’m going to enjoy it anyway.’ He leant down and licked a slow strip from base to tip, and met Crowley’s eyes as he sucked the head into his mouth. The demon’s eyes rolled back into his head and he clenched his fists in the sheet. Aziraphale smiled to himself and slid his lips further down, swirling his tongue around the head and into the slit. Crowley began a constant litany of all the ways he was going to make Aziraphale pay for this but the angel went at his own pace, experimenting. He was carefully cataloguing the different sounds the demon made when he felt hands pushing his head down and he gave in and went, hollowing his cheeks and sucking for all he was worth.

He was rewarded with a long groan from Crowley, whose hips thrust into his mouth involuntarily. Aziraphale held him down with one hand and bobbed his head, glancing up at Crowley to gauge his reaction and was suddenly wrenched away as suddenly as he’d been pushed down. He crawled back up to Crowley, confused.

The demon looked wrecked. His hair was a mess, his lips red from kissing, and there were a number of red marks around his throat, hiding in the flush that went all the way down to his chest. He stared at Aziraphale and panted heavily.

‘I wasn’t going to last much longer,’ he managed and then flipped the angel over so he was on top. ‘And I promised you’d pay,’ he added with a wicked grin.

Crowley, Aziraphale thought a while later, was definitely a demon of his word. The world was fuzzy around him as he watched the demon’s mouth spread around his cock, his hands on Aziraphale’s hips, digging into him and bruising. He couldn’t help moaning the demon’s name, writhing on the bed as he was overwhelmed for the second time that day by the sensations of making an effort.

‘Crowley,’ he said urgently, ‘Crowley, please.’

‘Please what?’ The demon asked, smirking as he pulled off for a moment to look at the angel, one hand still languidly stroking him.

‘Please stop,’ he said. ‘I’m – I have – I want to do something else.’

Crowley looked at him. Aziraphale blushed.

‘I want –’ he gestured helplessly, but a look of comprehension dawned on the demon’s face.

‘You want to –’ the demon copied the gesture. ‘With me.’

‘I – yes. Please?’

Crowley looked at him with a strange expression. Aziraphale waited.

‘You never cease to amaze me,’ the demon murmured and slid up to meet Aziraphale for a kiss before gesturing and producing a packet of lube.

‘I –’ Aziraphale swallowed at the sight of it. ‘I don’t know what to-’

‘I know,’ the demon smirked and moved to straddle the angel, tearing open the little foil packet as he did so. He kept his eyes trained on Aziraphale as he slicked up his own fingers and Aziraphale’s mouth fell open as his hand disappeared behind his back and he craned his neck for a better look. Crowley smiled and slid his finger inside his puckered hole, his brow tightening at the intrusion, but he kept going, fucking himself on his fingers.

As soon as he realised what he was doing, Aziraphale knocked the demon’s hand away and slicked his own up, slipping it inside. It felt odd, but there was a strange expression on Crowley’s face, like pleasure, so he kept doing it. He listened to the demon’s breathing become shallower and a sheen of sweat appeared across his forehead.

‘Another,’ he said hoarsely and Aziraphale obediently slid another finger inside, watching Crowley for clues. When he had three fingers inside the demon, and he was so hard from fucking Crowley with only his fingers, he slid out and slipped on a miracled condom and used the rest of the lube on his cock. He sent a questioning look to Crowley, who rolled onto his back and spread his legs. Aziraphale positioned himself at the demon’s entrance and watched Crowley’s face as he slid in. The demon held his gaze levelly, so Aziraphale pushed in, slowly, letting them both adjust to the feeling. Tenseness around the mouth was the only indication that Crowley felt anything except pleasure, but Aziraphale was acutely aware of it. He held himself in check and continued to slide in carefully, until he was fully sheathed inside the demon.

‘Does it hurt?’ he asked, and was rewarded with a smile.

‘Yes,’ Crowley admitted. ‘But if you dare try and stop, I will kill you.’

‘Oh,’ Aziraphale said. ‘Okay.’ And he continued to move slowly inside his friend, a slow slipside in and out, until the pain in Crowley’s face was replaced by pleasure and Aziraphale relaxed a little and increased his pace.

‘Oh,’ Crowley gasped suddenly, ‘I liked that. Do that again.’ Aziraphale obediently thrust in deeper, and felt pleasure shoot through him as Crowley writhed against the pillows, groaning his name.

‘Crowley,’ he gasped, dropping his head onto Crowley’s shoulder, and letting his movements become more erratic. Crowley raked his fingernails down Aziraphale’s back and then planted them on his arse, pulling him deeper inside. Aziraphale was all but lost, thrusting desperately into the demon. He pulled back a little, to see Crowley reaching for his own cock, pumping it frantically. The sight tipped the angel over the edge and he pulled Crowley’s hips tighter against his own, leaving marks that would bruise. He came to the sound of Crowley hissing his name and watched him arch up against him as he came too.

Aziraphale slipped down onto him, his arms shakily giving way, and lay on the demon’s chest, panting. Crowley matched him breath for breath, and trailed his hands down the angel’s side.

‘So,’ he said eventually.

‘So,’ Aziraphale echoed and was surprised at the rough sound of his voice. He cleared his throat. ‘Crowley, this wasn’t – ’

‘I know,’ Crowley cut him, shifting out from under him. ‘This wasn’t a good idea. This is going to get you into trouble, etc etc.’

Aziraphale pushed himself up on one elbow and blinked.

‘I was going to ask if this was going to be a one-time thing, actually,’ he said and Crowley stopped trying to find his underwear.

‘What?’

‘I know that you’re ... attracted to me,’ he said awkwardly. ‘But I don’t know whether you want to ... you know ... do this again.’

Crowley stared at him.

‘Aziraphale fucking Fell, I’ve wanted you for years. You think I want to give this up now I’ve finally got it?’

Aziraphale blushed and fidgeted with the sheet.

‘Then why are you leaving?’ The demon sat back down on the bed.

‘I thought – I mean, you’re an angel. You’re not supposed to –’ he gestured. Aziraphale looked sad.

‘I know. I could Fall for this.’ Crowley stood back up and straightened his spine.

‘Well then,’ he said to the angel, his back to him. ‘I’ll just find my clothes – ’

‘Crowley,’ Aziraphale said in exasperation. ‘Don’t you think it’s up to me to decide what I want to risk for you?’

Crowley spun around, dropping his boxers, his mouth open.

‘What?’

‘I mean, I’m fairly sure I’m in love with you, you stupid serpent! Oh – oops. I didn’t mean to say that.’ He blushed. Crowley didn’t say anything for a moment and the angel’s heart plummeted.

‘Oh,’ the demon eventually said quietly. ‘I’m fairly sure I’m in love with you too.’ Aziraphale looked up from where he was studying the fingermarks on his thighs, his face alight.

‘Really?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ Crowley said grumpily. ‘And if you tell anyone that I shall naturally deny it.’

‘Oh,’ Aziraphale said happily. ‘Naturally. Er any chance you can come back to bed now?’

‘Well, yes,’ Crowley replied, climbing back into bed. ‘I’m rather interested to know what else these mind reading powers could be useful for.’

Aziraphale swallowed.

---

[1] Which earned him a disgusted look from a drake, who preferred his bread with a little substance thank you.

[2] Which the Ritz didn’t usually employ.

[3] Which, he had thought at the time, wasn’t where he had put it.

[4] Which he’d apparently decided to make an effort for.

[5] He didn’t want to fully form it, in case it got through and the Lord found out and that was a conversation he really didn’t want to have with the Almighty Father.



Happy Holidays, tyrotheterrible, from your Secret Writer!

Comments

[archon-mentha.livejournal.com]

Very fun scenario, and really, really hot!

[random-nexus.livejournal.com]

This has already been cuddled and tucked into my memories, just FYI. I enjoyed this SO much! Not just Aziraphale's delightful discomposure, but the sexy bits alone and with Crowley! Ohh! So well done! Funny and sweet and hot, in a marvy balance.

Excellent!

[mirai-gohan.livejournal.com]

That was BEAUTIFUL. Tyro's going to love it. She may not be back with access to internet until January, but I can promise you that she's going to absolutely adore it. It's very much her speed. Excellent work, Secret Writer!

(Also, GAH, so many little cute moments. I might die. <3)

[frodosweetstuff.livejournal.com]

Ooooh, great idea - loved the ducks, although loved the great A/C bits more... :) thank you!!

[thorneblackburn.livejournal.com]

Ngk.

I'm going to spend some time trying to figure out who this secret writer is, and if it's someone I've not read more of, they'll gain a stalker.

[spockollama.livejournal.com]

Very creative set up, and very hot ending. Wonderful all around:)

[kindigo.livejournal.com]

My favorite part of this fic is what they say to each other. I guess I mean that they're wonderfully characterized. Because, "I shall deny it" and "stupid serpent--oops" are just, so loving, you know? Oh I love this fic.

[tyrotheterrible.livejournal.com]

OH GOD. Affronted missives from Above. Duck soap operas. Certainly-Not-Worried!Crowley. Accidental Effort-Making! Snark! MINDREADING!

Not exactly what I was thinking of when I wrote that prompt, but holy shit did this hit the spot. And the SMUT, gah!

Bonus points for not-strictly-necessary condom use!

EXCLAMATION POINTS

Thank you so much! I love this.