inlovewithmycar | open post

No, I put down the pen after that. Thought I'd leave such a thing up to the masters.

[ He places a hand over Crowley's, not to stall him, but to keep it there, warm on his leg, spreading to other parts of his body. ]

And here I thought you'd wanted a nap...

[ Crowley winds his arms around Aziraphale, greedy for his warmth and scent and to kiss him senseless.

Or perhaps it's Crowley who is senseless at the moment? All his wits seem to have fled in the face of pure, unbridled instinct when he tastes himself on Aziraphale's lips. He murmurs against Aziraphale's lips and chin something that could either be 'lovely angel' or 'love you, angel'. Possibly both. He wouldn't be able to pinpoint when it had happened, but Crowley's cheeks are far from dry.

Eventually, reason trickles back into his brain and he nuzzles against Aziraphale's cheek. ]

That was - wow. Never felt like that before.

that doesn't sound too bad actually. i'll give it a try - you've been on the money b4.

u were working at ur own pace angel, and u had a lot more to lose if u tripped up or got something wrong. pls don't ever think u weren't doing enough.

"preference" u say, as though it weren't obvious. should have put a big neon sign over my head saying "angel, please put ur hands here". neway, omw luv u c u soon 😘

[ Of course Crowley's car comes screeching to halt outside the shop, and he comes hurrying in with a bag full of his favourite hair-care products. It seems that he does very little actual miracling with his hair, the same way Aziraphale prefers the more human method of keeping his clothes intact. ]

Shame. Would've liked to see if there were further adventures of Mr. Albrecht and Mr. Ingram.

[ He did so love a good serial romance. But then, Crowley was a good deal soppier than he let on. ]

And I did. I do. But your thighs are so lovely and soft, I thought they might need some seeing to.

Hmm... well, you are always welcome to come attend to them; it seems as of late, they refuse to shy away from your touch.

[ He licks his lips and leans down to kiss Crowley's temple. ]

Always starved for it.

I can write you some Ingram and Albrecht later, if you so wish...

[ Creativity, free will, passion, and deep, abiding affection - Crowley has to marvel at how they possessed these traits they were never supposed to have. Aziraphale had written a lovely little short story and, while to humans it may not seem like much, Crowley had to wonder how many angels created any kind of art at all. ]

If the mood takes you, I'd love to see what you do with them. I do love a good romance.

[ He kneaded his fingers gently into the yielding flesh, humming his approval. Nice, slow, languid strokes - it was a lazy evening in bed after all. No need to rush. ]

[ He does and Aziraphale thinks it's lovely, the way that Crowley loves to feel with the humans, be swayed by their love.

He takes Crowley's hand and moves it upward just the slightest, closer to where his legs fork. ]

Yes well, I'm not in the mood to write now, as it were.

You had said something about... ah, aubergines? Donuts?

[ There's a lazy chuckle from Crowley as he reclines with Aziraphale in their nest of pillows, stroking along the dip of his joint and over his hip. It's become the sort of petting with less intent to arouse, and more pacify. ]

I did mention something about those, yeah.

[ He kisses along Aziraphale's jaw, before finally resting his forehead against the angel's temple. His stroking has become increasingly slower, and his eyelids drooping. He tries and fails to suppress a yawn. ]

Tell you all about aubergines and doughnuts in the morning. Better yet; I'll show.

Mm, in the morning then.

[ He can't help but to smile at the very relaxed Crowley in his arms, sleeping well no doubt now that he had a literal guardian angel to hold him while he slumbered, and so, Aziraphale wouldn't mind if he chose to take advantage of the situation and take many naps.

He miracles for him a good dream, one of lush green gardens and rolling clouds overhead.

There would always be time for aubergines and doughnuts. ]

I love you, too, Crowley.

[He murmurs it in return, in between the kisses that they share, strong hands running comforting lines down the demon's back. Tasting the salt-water on his cheeks, he places soft, affectionate kisses wherever he can, warm and reassuring.

Crowley's words take him a bit by surprise. He pulls back just enough to look at him in surprise.]

Really? I... [His gaze drops, a demure smile playing on his lips.] I was hoping that what little I knew would be enough.

Perhaps for dinner later? You've put me in the mood.

[He doesn't respond to the rest of the texts for some reason. Perhaps he's busy with the bath? And indeed, when Crowley lets himself into the shop and makes his way to the flat upstairs, he'll find Aziraphale in the bathroom running water into the tub. His flat is less over-run with books these days, confined to bookshelves and coffee tables as opposed to pieces of furniture intended to sit or lounge upon.

He turns towards the doorframe when Crowley arrives and smiles, his eyes especially bright. These days he greets Crowley in all manner of ways; this time it is a long, almost needy hug, his face nuzzling into those miraculously longer locks.]

Thank you, Crowley. For indulging me and... and everything, really...

[ There is a brief flash of surprise on his face, but Crowley's expression quickly softens. He would have never, in all his life, guessed that Aziraphale was lacking in experience. ]

Wouldn't lie to you. Proof is in the pudding, right? Which you lapped right up, need I remind you.

[ Perhaps it was just the fact that it was Aziraphale that had shook Crowley into pieces - but that couldn't have been all of it. He may not have the broadest of experiences himself with getting his cock sucked, but one of those did include an incubus. Perhaps Aziraphale just had some hitherto unknown talent. ]

[ Crowley pulls Aziraphale close, lifting the angel off his feet as he folds his long arms around him. He doesn't miss the neediness from his lover and is more than happy to meet it head on. Crowley is usually the clingy one. ]

Hello, sweetheart.

[ He greets softly, kissing into those curls. He'd begun using other endearments besides 'angel', though that's still, by far, his favourite. ]

Love indulging you. You're wonderful to indulge.

[ It isn't just flattery either. Aziraphale's so passionate about everything, from good food to beautiful music; it was truly a pleasure to make him happy. ]

And I'm getting indulged too. Always wanted you to get those lovely hands in my hair.

[Aziraphale doesn't miss that look of surprise, although he's not sure if it's worth explaining himself. There's the tired old excuse of being an angel, which has never stopped him from enjoying life's other pleasures. There's the fear of Gabriel catching him with his pants down, both literally and metaphorically, but he's done riskier things than make love to a human.

...which is the crux of it, really. As much as he loves humanity and has loved various individual humans over the millennia, it has always been platonic. Human lives are so short and fragile. He's never entirely forgotten his first assignment, to guard Eden and protect the two innocent lives living within its walls.

These thoughts are cut short by Crowley's pudding comment. He gasps out a shocked laugh, then stifles the rest with pursed lips and roll of his eyes.]

Don't be crass, Crowley.

[Considering how they're tangled up together, naked and least a little sticky, the reprimand carries no weight. He noses Crowley's throat and runs a hand along his chest before finally voicing aloud his earlier speculation.]

I've experimented a little, over the years, but nothing close to that. I thought once it was because of my angelic nature, but... it's because they weren't you. It's only ever been you.

[Aziraphale relaxes immediately in Crowley's comforting embrace. Without the wrath of their former bosses to worry about, the angel occasionally dwells on the things he could have done differently where Crowley is concerned. Some of those texts had gotten rather serious, and yet Crowley had given him nothing but kindness in return. It's incredibly humbling, and he needs a moment to simply breathe him in and remind himself that it all worked out in the end.

Once his feet are back on the ground, he pulls back enough to look over Crowley's hair. A hand comes up wind through it gently.]

It's beautiful as the rest of you. [His gaze flicks to the bag of hair products.] Goodness, what is all that? I'll have to clear off my vanity to make room.

[ Crowley dissolves into silent mirth at the look Aziraphale gives him, and promptly gathers him close to look for some part of his lovely head where he hasn't been giving the kisses it's due. ]

Yeah.

[ He agrees, kissing around Aziraphale's ear. ]

I messed about with other demons a bit. It was alright, but - I don't know. Always left me more frustrated. Met you that time in Rome and just lost all interest in anyone else from that point on. Only ever had eyes for you, I reckon. Just took me a bit to work it out.

[ Crowley refuses to dwell on what they had to say or do in the past just to survive. That they had been able to be as close as they were was, well, a miracle. He'd rather focus on what they had now, build on that relationship while carefully chiseling away at past hurts a bit at a time. The past would take time to reconcile. And they had time. But Aziraphale deserved to focus on the good things they had now.

He leans hard into the touch, making a contented sound at the back of his throat. Oh that's nice - very nice. Good choice to do this, even if it means his hair's going to be dry and brittle for a couple of days as he gets it up to its usual healthy lustre. ]

Got a box of pumpkin ravioli and dessert for you. N'some wine.

[ If he sounds a little drunk, it's very much the effect Aziraphale has on him. ]

[Aziraphale squirms quite happily from the kisses and the knowledge that he's the best Crowley's ever had. It's when Crowley brings up Rome that he settles, tilting his head up so that he can look up at the demon in soft wonder.]

Oh... is that so? You know, when I sensed you there in that little tavern, I was quite excited to see you. I'd never had on opportunity before to socialize with you without some sort of momentous event occurring around us. I'm so glad I worked up the nerve to come over and say hello. You never stopped seeking me out after that, did you?

[ Aziraphale's squirming gets another lazy chuckle from him. It must be this whole lowercase-l love business - even the littlest of things makes his heart flutter around in his chest. His actual heart too. The very core of him that had taken long centuries to piece back together. ]

I'm glad you did too. Figured out a lot things that day. And not just that you can somehow make eating oysters of all things alluring and sexy.

[However Crowley wants to approach their past, Aziraphale is amenable, so long as they can have many more moments like this. But he is not above making up for lost time, as he is doing now, appreciating the length of Crowley's hair. He smiles and wraps a curl around his finger. It doesn't feel perfectly silky to him, but he won't begrudge Crowley his products. Lord knows how fussy Aziraphale can be over his personal effects.

When he hears what else is in the bag, he beams and wiggles, leaning in to kiss Crowley enthusiastically.]

You think of everything, darling. Thank you.

[The tub is close to full, so Aziraphale shuts off the water with a wave of his hand, then rolls up his sleeves.]

Now then, I believe I owe your hair a good washing? I've got a little padded stool by the tub, you can sit there and lean back and tell me what to use on your hair.

[ Crowley practically preens at the praise, despite the fact it's practically been their ritual for - decades now. Aziraphale offhandedly mentions something he finds tasty, and Crowley scours London for the treat. Thank - well, anyone - for the invention of mobile phones. It saved him a lot of time scouring so he could spend more nibbling food with Aziraphale and chatting over good wine. ]

Gonna need to brush it out first. Then rub in the coconut oil - gotta mitigate the damage miracling it does. Should be fine in a few days with a little extra care, though - done way worse to it in the past and it's come out fine.

[ He adds in the last bit, in case Aziraphale got it into his head to worry about Crowley being reckless with his hair. ]

It's not that difficult, they are considered an aphrodisiac, you know.

[He speaks matter-of-factly, only realizing a moment too late what he's implying. He blushes and bites his lip, eyebrows tilted up sheepishly.]

Oh, dear... that's not entirely what I meant at the time...

[Let me tempt you. His own words come back to haunt him and he hides his face in Crowley's neck. Not that terrible a place to hide, all things considered, and he can't help but kiss him while he's there. A hand drifts down to Crowley's hip and he gives it a good squeeze.]

No wonder you always asked me to meals, if that's how you feel.

[Aziraphale smiles over the way Crowley reacts to the praise, eyes twinkling. He deserves it, the angel thinks, all that and more, for all the times he's treated him to a tasty food or wine. He takes the bag from Crowley's hands and gives him another kiss before shooing him to the vanity.]

I know, I remember those outrageous curls you put into your hair at the Bastille. We'll start with a good brushing, then.

[He sets down the bag and looks through it for the coconut oil. There is a silver-plated brush on the vanity, the bristles especially designed for curly hair. He intends to care for Crowley's hair from start to finish.]

[ Crowley's brow is rising higher and higher until it's almost certain to reach his hairline. Finally, Aziraphale has his face buried in his neck as their first dinner-date takes on a whole new context. ]

You sure it wasn't a seduction play? The way you sipped on those mollusks -

[ He lets loose a wolf whistle, grinning. ]

- let you have mine 'coz I was sitting on my hands the whole time.

[ And because Crowley learned that day that oysters really weren't for him. ]

Ugh, don't remind me. Was washing the gunk out of my hair for weeks - wasn't even worth it.

[ Crowley divests himself of most of his layers until he's down to his vest and jeans and plonks himself down in the stool by the tub, resting his chin on his folded arms. ]

I don't think I've ever seen you having a bad hair day. Always perfectly fluffy.

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