inlovewithmycar | open post

[ Crowley gives a delighted 'whoop' as Aziraphale lifts him off the bed. It's not like Crowley is particularly heavy to begin with, but he always gets a thrill at feeling the angel's underlying strength. The Almighty had, of course, made him to fight battles (and Crowley loves him because Aziraphale gave away his sword first chance he got and found better things to do than smite evil) and he's sure some instinctual part of him still smarting from getting kicked out of Heaven should be a little nervous about it, but Crowley's never been particularly sensible when it comes to Aziraphale.

Seeing them together in the mirror has his heart skipping. Naked and with his arms around Aziraphale's neck, draped in the angel's arms - Crowley feels overcome by a wave of some indescribable emotion.

It's one thing to feel Aziraphale against him, warm and so exquisitely soft. It's another thing to see it reflected back at them, a solid reminder that this is all real, that Crowley hasn't sunk into a decades-long dream to soothe a broken heart. They're really together, they can hold each other, love each other, be together completely freely and in front of them is proof of that.

Crowley knows he has the most ridiculous, undemonic grin on his face - h can see it right there in front of them - and he doesn't care. He just rests his head on Aziraphale's shoulder, his arms around him tightening in a proper embrace. ]

Yeah. We do. Hair looks great too, angel.

[If Crowley is going to insist on using his clever mouth to continue to distract Aziraphale, then the angel feels entirely justified in reclaiming Crowley's hand and pressing hot little kisses all the way from his wrist to the soft divot of his inner elbow.]

I thought you were tired. Is this how you fall asleep?

[His teasing tone gives way to a thready whine when Crowley sucks a mark onto his neck, one he has no intention of vanishing with a miracle. He turns in the demon's arms and kisses him properly.]

I'll tell you a little secret, dear. If it's a choice between you and my books, you'll always win.

[It's rare for Aziraphale to show off his strength. Appearing soft is as much a desire to appear warm and comforting as it is his love of sweets and rich meals. But never misses an opportunity to carry Crowley in his arms -- with the demon's consent, of course. It makes Crowley so happy, and makes Aziraphale feel like he is protecting Crowley, much like their first meeting on Eden's wall when he extended a wing to shield the demon from the rain.

Looking in the mirror, Aziraphale has much the same thought, that their reflection is solid evidence of their togetherness. It's also a lovely image in and of itself: two beings very much in love, almost deliriously happy because of it. (Rather salacious, too, if one's gaze drops too far.)

Aziraphale blushes a little at the compliment and turns his head away from his reflection to kiss the real Crowley's forehead.]

Do you think we should have someone take our photograph sometime? I only have Leonardo's portrait of us. I'd like something to keep on my desk.

[ Crowley rather likes the salacious bits, and not just because he's a demon. He's always found Aziraphale attractive (though he's sure for both of them love has smoothed some of the less attractive creases). He sees no shame in how they express their feelings, even if he'd wish his over-eager loins would give it a bit of a rest so they could at least make it through an evening out without his trousers getting too tight.

Crowley is still admiring how well they seem to fit together, when Aziraphale's words sink in.

Photos. Did people still sit for photos? ...Probably for weddings and other such occasions. ]

We could. Get all that professional lighting and everything, dress up real fancy. But I also think you're really going to love the idea of the selfie.

[ Crowley can imagine it quite clearly. Once Aziraphale got comfortable with twenty-first century technology, there would be albums, digital and physical, full of photographs. Photos of them together on vacation. Photos of Aziraphale laughing as he dries the dishes. Several blurry shots of Crowley doing something ridiculous. A mountain of artistic shots of meals at whatever little hole in the wall they favoured that month.

A life together. ]

[Aziraphale was thinking more of the former, certainly. In this case, at least, he's grateful for the advancements in technology so that people could smile for the camera and not hold their poses for uncomfortably long periods of time. But he does not wrinkle his nose at the mention of a selfie. Quite the contrary, his eyes light up at the idea, a grin appearing on his face.]

Oh? Is the inventor of the selfie planning to give me lessons so that we can capture ourselves at the most flattering angle?

[His teasing tone belies a genuine interest in the idea. Wouldn't it be nice to be pressed close together like this, Crowley holding out his phone, something scenic like the Royal Botanic Gardens in the background? He's about to say as much, but holds his tongue while he takes in the soft, faraway look on the angel's face.]

Dear?

[He goes back to the bed, sitting down and resting Crowley in his lap. He slides an arm out from under the demon's knees so that he can gently brush the side of his face.]

What's on your mind?

Wouldn't ever make you choose.

[ Because Crowley sees no reason why Aziraphale should ever have to for starters. But then, Crowley never saw much reason why people should be without what or whom they love beyond some nebulous idea like ineffability.

He melts into the kiss, pulling Aziraphale into his arms, pondering over the question. It definitely wasn't ever how he fell asleep before - Crowley isn't exactly one to be inviting strangers to his bed, after all, but mentioning that he's always slept alone feels like it may just kill this rather nice mood. Breaking from the kiss, he flicks his tongue over Aziraphale's lips. ]

...Buuuut if you're reading in bed, I might just have to distract you sometimes.

[It's yet another reason why Aziraphale finds himself so helplessly in love with Crowley. He meant what he said, though. There's really no contest between a book and this newfound intimacy between them. If he can combine the two sometimes, like he just did with poetry, then more the better.

Aziraphale opens his mouth to the tongue flicking, unabashedly taking what is offered a second time.]

I suppose, if needs must. So long as I can distract you from your phone when I'm feeling peckish.

[ Crowley pulls back a bit from investigating every interesting crevice of Aziraphale's mouth with his tongue, and bumps his forehead affectionately against the angel's. ]

What? And stop me from starting another twitter war? Perish the thought!

[ There's a flurry of motion from Crowley, who is so rarely still, even when he's lethargic or sleepy. He wriggles dramatically against Aziraphale, arms snaking up and down his torso as the demon finds some new, slightly different angle to get comfortable. ]

I suppose I can make an exception though. Sometimes.

[ As though 'sometimes' didn't mean 'always, yes, please feel free to distract me any time'. ]

[ Settled in the soft warmth that is Aziraphale, Crowley curls his arms around his shoulders and holds him close. ]

Just. Happy. Didn't know you were the type to go in for photography.

[ It's more than that, of course. Always is with either of them.

Crowley, for one, had spent a much larger portion of his life than he'd
ever care to admit buying into the idea that he's unworthy of love. After all, when the Almighty Herself rips you open, tears out your Grace and casts you out like garbage, it's not exactly great for one's self-esteem.

He at first never expected to feel love again, and then he never had expected to have it reciprocated, and then, even if it was, it would have to be treated as some furtive thing. The best Crowley could hope for was to be a shameful, dirty secret, kept to the peripherals and never daring to ask for more for what danger it might put them both in; especially Aziraphale. If there were pictures, they were to be tucked away in little lockboxes, brought out only in the dead silence of night; not in albums or frames or plastered on an Instagram account to rile up a bit of Envy in the mortals.

Of course he can't just go saying all that, not when he doesn't even know where to begin explaining why he's so moved. It's just the little things that always hit him the hardest, because they are a sign of much, much bigger things. ]

[Aziraphale only knows vaguely what Crowley is referring to with this 'twitter war' business. Something to do with people arguing with one another on the internet. which he's more than happy to leave to Crowley. He bumps back and chuckles in amusement.]

I may not need to thwart your wiles any longer, but old habits die hard, my dear.

[His amusement continues when Crowley treats him like a pillow that he needs to more effectively cuddle up against. He readjusts his arms around the demon in turn, maximizing their comfort.]

Duly noted. If you come across any endearing animal photos in the midst of one of your twitter wars, please send them my way. You know I like those.

[It's about all the internet is good for, is the conclusion he's come to.]

[Aziraphale can sense what's just below the surface of Crowley's reply, even if he also would have trouble putting it into words. In many ways, their friendship over the centuries was a kind of courtship, but one only expressed in ways that could be hidden or denied. Photos were out of the question. Leonardo's portrait had to be cut in two to avoid suspicion. It hurt Aziraphale to deny his feelings, but he knows that it was far worse for Crowley, who needed love more than anyone.

But he doesn't say anything about that, either. He just smiles softly at Crowley and kisses his cheek, taking his words at face value.]

Well, it's been around long enough that it appears to be more than a fad, so I'm willing to give it a try. Besides, you're very good at it.

[ There's a soft chuckle from Crowley. Ah, yes, ever since 'I can has cheeseburger', Crowley has been gradually trying to chip away at Aziraphale's aversion to modern technology. He'll have to gradually start showing him food blogs and the DIY section of YouTube. ]

You know, I'm really not sure if I should take you 'thwarting my wiles' as the innuendo it always sounded like...

[ Crowley has always suspected Aziraphale would be warm and comfortable to cuddle up to, but he never dreamed the reality would so thoroughly trump the fantasy. It's hard to find an angle he likes best. ]

'Get thee behind me foul fiend'? As if you'd ever have to ask.

[ He doesn't squeeze Aziraphale's bum, but the palm of his hand ghosts over the swell of his buttocks so the angel gets the picture. ]

[Aziraphale doesn't really understand the memes, but the cats are cute. He actually went out of his way to enquire about Maru, wanting to see more videos of the box-loving cat after Crowley showed him the first one.]

I do beg your pardon.

[His mildly incredulous expression -- what innuendo? -- is replaced with a blush and involuntary wiggle against Crowley's hand.]

That phrasing does sound rather like a double entendre in light of recent events, doesn't it? Perhaps that Freud fellow was onto something, after all.

[ Crowley, clingy thing that he is, has settled quite comfortably in Aziraphale's lap and curled his arms and legs around him, leaning in to every touch, every kiss. ]

Mm, sss'all about lighting, angel. We'll snap some photos next time we go out and I'll, mm, show you.

[ Crowley seems to have already started distracting himself with gently kneading his fingers into Aziraphale's back, slowly working the muscles there with his deft and clever fingers. ]

[It's not as though Crowley is some tiny waif, but he does fit very nicely on Aziraphale's lap, and a lapful of Crowley is bound to do things to Aziraphale's corporation. His arousal, waiting patiently all this time, spikes rather noticeably.]

Oh, I do hope so... not that I'm particularly hasty to go anywhere...

[He keeps an arm wrapped loosely around Crowley's waist, his other hand trailing lightly along the demon's willowy thigh. His eyes shut blissfully at the impromptu massage, leaning into it instinctively.]

[ Crowley makes a small 'hm' of approval. He may have lost the ability to sense love a long time ago, but he definitely felt that spike of lust. Good, quality lust too, and Crowley basks in it a bit, before resuming his ministrations. He works Aziraphale's back muscles the same way he worked his wings; seeking out the spots where he carries his tension and pushing the pressure outwards. He's slow, methodical and peppers in kisses. There is also a deliberate shift of weight in Aziraphale's lap as Crowley grinds his hips down, trapping their cocks together. ]

Mm, but think of all the dinners we can have together. Picnics. Trips to carnivals, and theatres, and opera houses.

[ Crowley can't help himself. He gives Aziraphale's earlobe a playful nip. ]

Can't forget libraries, of course.

[ Aziraphale's little wiggle into his palms is all the invitation Crowley needs to grab a couple of handfuls and squeezing just above his thighs. ]

Might've been. The whole weird fixation on parents seemed a bit off though. Methinks Dr. Freud might've been projecting a little. ...Or a lot, actually.

[ He mouths over Aziraphale's throat, licking into that dip in his collarbone. Crowley really cannot seem to get enough of him. ]

Might've had a few slips myself, every now and then.

[It's a one-two punch of physical pleasure, Crowley working on his back muscles and grinding into his lap, and thoughts of photographs and selfies are promptly pushed out of Aziraphale's mind.]

I can't think of much of anything while you're -- ah! -- oh, right there, darling -- while you're doing that...

[He slides his hands to Crowley's hips, pressing up as Crowley pushes down, letting his building arousal throb like a heartbeat between them. Before Crowley can get to his earlobe a second time, the angel turns his head and kisses him rather soundly.]

I'll go anywhere with you, love. Anywhere at all.

[Aziraphale squeaks audibly at that double squeeze, even though he really should have seen it coming. His hands skim over Crowley's lithe frame, either looking for revenge or simply not wanting to be left out of the fun.]

Freud fixated on a lot of things, dear...

[He moans softly at the way Crowley mouths at him, hooking his leg over the demon's to draw them closer together.]

Is that so? I always assumed that was simply part of your charm... silver-tongued devil and whatnot...

[ Crowley's smug little grin is kissed away into a soft, tender, and rather dazed expression. There are some things he'll never tire of and Aziraphale's endearments are one of them. ]

Anywhere you like, then. Anything you like.

[ He locks lips again with Aziraphale, raking his forked tongue over Aziraphale's. The massage is temporarily forgotten, but the slow roll of his hips is certainly not. He delights in the warmth and friction building, and gently nudges Aziraphale's shoulder to coax him back onto the soft duvet and pillows that had, quite miraculously, appeared behind him. ]

That he did - ah -!

[ Crowley gives a reflexive chuckle at Aziraphale's touch. It tickles, but in a pleasant way, like nestling into warm silk sheets. And while one hand remains firmly planted on the angel's bum (he may or may not have stolen a few appreciative glances over the centuries), the other glides over the thigh hooked around his hips. ]

Better make sure you keep this silver tongue occupied then. There's no telling what mischief it's liable to get up to.

[ He flicks his tongue, the split tip tickling the underside of Aziraphale's chin while Crowley looks terribly pleased with himself. ]

[Aziraphale needs little coaxing to lie back onto the pillows, although he keeps his grip on Crowley, not wanting to lose that delicious friction building between them. He may have lost the massage, but Crowley's kiss more than makes up for it. That clever, forked tongue sends a delighted shiver through him, muted by the soft duvet beneath him.]

Right here is... oh... just about perfect...

[He smiles up at Crowley, his blue eyes twinkling in excitement, wondering if Crowley has some sort of plan for what to do with him.]

As for what I'd like... that's entirely up to you.

[Crowley's laughter is infectious, and he finds himself giggling for no good reason other than it feels good to do so. He feels so relaxed and utterly content, his heart light and open to whatever might happen next.

Then Crowley tickles his chin and draws another giggle out of the angel. One hand settles at the small of his back, the other teasing over a nipple in the space between them.]

Mmm, I'm sure that you can find mischief no matter how well occupied your tongue is, but if you insist...

[He captures Crowley's mouth in a kiss, and though his tongue is not nearly so special as a serpent's, he manages to keep Crowley's busy without any trouble.]

[ Crowley could, indeed, get up to all kinds of mischief even with his tongue so thoroughly occupied in mapping every corner of Aziraphale's mouth. His fingers are fully occupied with stroking and kneading into the meat of the angel's ass and thigh, loving the soft give and the hint of firmer muscle. When Aziraphale starts teasing his nipple, the whine from Crowley is utterly wanton. ]

Angel -

[ He's breathless, already flushed and panting, aching for Aziraphale's touch. There aren't words for how good it feels, like little jolts of electricity down his spine, going right to his groin.

His fervour redoubles, kisses growing hungry and his idle groping becomes more deliberate. ]

[Aziraphale never would have imagined enjoying the way Crowley kneads the soft curves of his corporation, but it's a sign of how attractive the demon finds him, and besides, it feels good, a nice firm pressure down to the muscle underneath. He squeezes with the thigh hooked over Crowley's leg, reminding the demon of his strength. He has a feeling that he'll appreciate it.

He patiently circles the nipple with his index and middle fingers, then gently pinches it before Crowley becomes complacent to the sensation. The whine that results is matched with a chuckle that's only partly muffled by their kisses.]

Yes, darling? Something -- mmmph -- I can do for you?

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Just noticed my dumb typo up there! Sorry. :<

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lol no worries - i don't remember seeing any typo at all

Re: lol no worries - i don't remember seeing any typo at all

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