inlovewithmycar | open post

[So the salesperson that Aziraphale spoke to about bedding was right; one can never have too many pillows. He feels cushioned on all sides and can't help but luxuriate properly in that soft, warm nest that they've made for themselves. The elbow under his knee is a surprise, but he wraps his leg around Crowley's hip securely, as directed. He immediately feels the effect this has on the position of Crowley's fingers and whines appreciatively.]

Ah! You're so clever, darling...

[There's another whine when Crowley pulls out his fingers, this time not so appreciatively. Petulantly, is more like it. He pouts for the scant second it takes for the demon to offer a far better trade.

Looking up into Crowley's eyes, he smiles with such brightness in his eyes that there isn't any doubt how much he wants this, too.]

We are. Please, Crowley. I'm ready for you.

[ Crowley lets out a laugh. The sight of Aziraphale reclining like some wanton prince makes him feel uncharacteristically giddy. The pout earns him an adoring kiss from Crowley, before the demon finally begins to push in.

It's agonizingly slow. He knows, on some subconsciousness level, they don't need to take their time. Their bodies could adjust comfortably in a matter of no time at all.

But Crowley wants to draw it out, to commit every milometer of that first push in to memory. To prove to Aziraphale that he can go slow when it matters.

He doesn't take his eyes off Aziraphale's face, until he's all the way in, utterly enveloped by the tight warmth of the angel, and it's altogether too much for him. He cups Aziraphale's cheeks, kissing him messily, and murmuring incomprehensible declarations of affection. All the while, his hips seeming to rock of their own accord, trying to burrow his cock impossibly deeper. ]

[Slow is what Aziraphale wants, too, so that he can savor every moment of them coming together. His eyelids flutter from the sheer overwhelming pleasure of it, his mouth dropping open in a soft gasp, a flush high in his cheeks. Every bit the blushing virgin, if not for the way his leg tightens around Crowley's hip, drawing him in encouragingly, and the moan that follows once he's entirely filled with Crowley.]

Oh... oh, dearest...

[He loses himself in those kisses, hands coming up to bury themselves in Crowley's hair, to keep the demon as close as he can. His hips rock back instinctively, delighting in how he's surrounded by Crowley, inside and out.]

[ He wonders if this could be their eternity. Just joined together at the hips and mouths, enveloped in warmth, pleasure, comfort and love. After everything, maybe just a few thousand years of this would be just what the doctor ordered.

That moan and the hands in his hair is enough to make his hips tremble, and he has to break the kiss, pausing to take several slow, deep breaths so he doesn't just spill and end everything before they've even begun. He nuzzles Aziraphale's cheek, stroking damp curls from his forehead to wordlessly reassure him that nothing is wrong, that he just needs a moment to collect himself. Once he can trust himself to speak coherently, he manages; ]

M'right there with you - fuck, angel, you're incredible and we've barely started.

[ It's no exaggeration either. This whole love business he thought was a bit of a bugger, given all the heart ache and pining, but now he's really getting what all the fuss is about. Now that he can just tell Aziraphale how wonderful he is, how cherished and treasured and utterly adored, without having to couch it all in ambiguity and plausible deniability. It feels like he just rediscovered some lost treasure after ages of thinking it to be lost and everything about Aziraphale feels right.

He takes another few deep breaths, gathers himself, and reaches down to give Aziraphale's thigh an encouraging stroke, his slow rocking resuming. Eventually he builds up to long, slow thrusts between leisurely kissing every inch of Aziraphale he can lay his mouth on. ]

Tell me if you'd like to go faster, yeah?

[Aziraphale somehow understands without Crowley having to say a word, this new language between them delivered in kisses and trembling hips. He softens his grip on Crowley's hair, fingers rubbing soothing circles on his scalp.]

It's all right, love. Take your time.

[It's a lot for him to process, too, all the new and sublime ways his nerves are lighting up from wherever he and Crowley are connected. He has experienced many things with his body -- food and drink and other human pleasures -- but none so intimate as this. He shuts his eyes and takes a moment to breathe it all in, waiting for Crowley to move.

And then Crowley does, slow enough that his arousal builds and builds without spilling over. He moans and tilts his hips to match the rhythm, hands sliding from Crowley's hair to cling to his shoulders. It's love he feels in every slow, slick thrust, in every kiss that Crowley places on his skin. He has never felt so utterly cared for and adored.]

This is... oh, it's perfection, Crowley... just like this, for a little while longer. Please?

Mm - could go like this forever, angel. Nice and slow.

[ He feels the fog clearing as he acclimates to these new sensations. The warmth of Aziraphale, the thrum of his heart, his usual scent pervaded by the musk of sweat and sex, and the sight of him spread out in the pillows, naked and lovely. It's still intense, but now he can start to really enjoy it rather than just be utterly overwhelmed. He can focus on keeping that slow, steady rhythm, exhaling with every tender thrust, letting the pleasure build up bit by bit. ]

You're amazing, Aziraphale - better than I ever dreamed.

[ And dreamed he had. In his wild, fevered fantasies, Crowley had been an adept lover. Smooth, suave, confident, knowing every little way he could take Aziraphale apart, bring him to intense climax after intense climax.

He likes the reality much better. He doesn't have to perform some role of gallant and dashing rogue who has taken countless lovers and is perfect in bed; they're both coming into this on a relatively even playing field and it feels so good to finally let his walls down. To just let Aziraphale know he's loved.

As Aziraphale raises his hips, Crowley's hand slips down between them, and he holds Aziraphale's cock against the flat of his belly, thumbing the crown, using the push of each thrust to build friction. ]

[Already flushed from their lovemaking, the compliment adds an extra dash of color to his cheeks. Aziraphale had hoped to live up to whatever fantasies Crowley had of him, novice that he is. To know that Crowley finds this as intensely pleasurable as he does is reassuring. He had no expectations or demands of Crowley's prowess in bed; this is perfect as it is.

He looks up into Crowley's eyes, running his hands over his chest and sides, feeling every inch of skin that he can reach, wanting to memorize the feel of it underneath his fingers.]

I only have my books, but you are better than all of them, Crowley. You put their words to shame.

[A few come close to describing the twin spirals of love and desire that are twisting within him, tighter and tighter with every thrust, but they pale in comparison to the real thing. When Crowley presses his cock against his stomach, the added sensation causes him to cry out in ecstasy, arching his back off the soft nest of pillows and clinging to Crowley tightly.]

F-faster... please...

[ It really was something to have Aziraphale say he's better than his beloved books, and Crowley is sure that if he weren't so far gone, he'd have some witty quip or another. The demon is hanging on by a thread, and between Aziraphale's sudden outburst and his request for Crowley to pick up the pace, he is helpless to do anything but obey.

He doesn't go much faster, but he certainly picked up the intensity. His thrusts are longer, now pulling almost all the way out before sinking back in. He gives a roll of his hips with each push inward, to really drive home. He was stroking Aziraphale's cock in earnest now, occasionally giving the base a light squeeze, and his kissing had grown hungry and open-mouthed again, as though he couldn't get enough of the taste of Aziraphale. ]

...Fast enough, love?

[ It seemed Crowley always had enough presence of mind to be a bit cheeky. ]

[Aziraphale has no clever comeback to offer in return, too busy writhing and moaning at the increase in intensity. His arousal coils tighter and tighter within him, a spring ready to release. How can his corporation house so much pleasure? Surely he's reached its limit by now? And yet it continues to climb, his essence soaring even as Crowley's thrusts and hot kisses are pressing him into the mattress.]

It's -- oh, Crowley, I'm --

[He pushes back with his hips, in rhythm with Crowley, instinctively chasing that pleasure. The hand on his cock pushes him over the edge and with another wordless moan, he comes over Crowley's hand and his stomach, finally giving in to the rapture that rushes through him.]

[ Crowley is so caught up in watching Aziraphale climax that his own actually blindsides him. The slick, hot feel of Aziraphale's come on his hand and belly, the feeling of his muscles clenching around him; Aziraphale's only warning is the hoarse cry as a shudder rips through Crowley, his hips trembling and his vision briefly whiting out as he spills.

It's - well, it's certainly intense. He's never imagined that it could feel like this, like every nerve had just lit up, and he can't tell if he's falling or flying, but oh, Aziraphale is there with him, warm and solid and something to hold onto.

He begins to come to his sense a few minutes later, his hips weakly rocking his softening cock inside Aziraphale, which he slows to a stop and reluctantly pulls out.

Crowley's grin is dazed as he gazes at Aziraphale and cups his cheek in the hand that isn't so sticky. ]

You are marvelous, Aziraphale.

[ He presses kiss after kiss to his face, his jaw, his throat and his mouth. ]

...Absolutely incredible...

[ Eventually his second wind finally gives out, and Crowley settles himself alongside Aziraphale, waving away their mess before it begins to dry, and planting lazy kisses over his shoulder, still murmuring his praises. ]

[A wave of euphoria passes over Aziraphale as Crowley spills inside him; is it Crowley's climax or the aftershocks of his own that are responsible for it? Both, he hazily decides. It must be both because he can't possibly imagine being this content otherwise. He smiles when Crowley all but collapses atop him, gathering him up in his strong arms and lowering his leg so that he can cradle those narrow hips between his own properly.

He lies there, idly stroking Crowley's hair while they both rest, sticky and sweaty and a little sore. It's utter bliss. When Crowley cups his cheek and murmurs his praise, he feels tears gather in the corners of his eyes. Joyful ones. He returns any kiss that meets his lip and chases the ones that don't.]

That was wonderful, Crowley. You're wonderful. I love you.

[He'll never tire of saying it, of being allowed to say it. Curling up against Crowley's side, he notes the miracle that takes care of the mess between them and smiles.]

Oh... thank you, dear...

Edited 2020-04-26 17:48 (UTC)

[ Is it alright, he wonders, to be so happy it almost hurts? That it isn't even sort of a bad pain, just a lingering ache in his chest. He kisses the wetness from the corners of Aziraphale's eyes, his own not exactly dry either as he wraps his arms around the angel. ]

Love you too.

[ He can say it now, freely. There's no need to hide anymore, and so he'll say it every day for the rest of what he hopes is a very, very long eternity together.

When they're settled comfortably, he expends one last miracle so that they're cuddled up comfortably in the nest of pillows under the the duvet. ]

We may have to save the pants signing for later. I do like this new look on you.

[ He grins, running his hand along Aziraphale's bare side. ]

Very bold. Absolutely stunning. Knocked my socks off.

[Aziraphale has never slept, not once in all his time on Earth, but the combination of the comfortable nest Crowley's made of himself and the bedding and his own post-coital bliss has lulled him into as close to a drowsy state as he's ever been. He shares a few more lazy kisses before wiggling under the covers, maximizing the number of places he and Crowley touch, unable to get enough of the simple pleasure of their bare corporations touching.

Crowley's comment has him laughing, lacking any sort of self-consciousness as he drapes an arm over Crowley's waist, all the better to touch him in return.]

I'm glad you approve. I believe you had plans to keep me in this state for some time.

Oh yesss.

[ Aziraphale's laughter is infectious and Crowley feels his lips turning ever upward. He tries for wicked and devious, though the effect is rather spoiled by the naked adoration and tenderness in his gaze. ]

All sorts of things we can get up to like this. Plenty of time too.

[ Cuddled up nice and close, with their limbs tangled and their foreheads pressed together, Crowley rubs a soothing trail up and down Aziraphale's back. ]

I know we're both, uh, pretty new to this, so if there's anything specific you want to have a go at, I'm open to giving it a try.

[Crowley's smile is positively enchanting, that perfect blend of serpentine and sweet. Aziraphale can't resist and he nuzzles in for yet another kiss.]

All the time in the world, darling.

[He settles back down, warm and sated, smile turning bashful at the question.]

If you're amenable, I'd like to be inside of you the next time we make love. I've never had a preference in my fantasies, I'd like to see if the same holds true in real life. [He brushes his fingers along the small of Crowley's back.] And you? Anything you'd like to explore with me?

And then some.

[ Because even if Earth made it to its natural end with the sun expanding and all that in quite a few billion years - they could still frolic off to other places. All the time they wanted was theirs. ]

Definitely. Very amenable to most anything with you so long as it doesn't involve sharp implements.

[ Crowley knew quite a bit more about what he didn't like than what he did. And what he didn't like was a lot of pain. But he suspected Aziraphale was, at least, on the same page there, and so Crowley is more than happy to indulge the angel's whims. ]

Otherwise, I don't think I really have much of a preference either.

[ That could change - in the few times Crowley had sex he was always on top. He'd never trusted any of his partners the way he trusted Aziraphale to show any kind of real vulnerability. But he suspected the only preference he'd continue to have is touching and being touched by Aziraphale. ]

...Though if we're ever feeling adventurous, got some soft ropes and silk scarves we could have a bit of fun with.

[At the mention of sharp instruments, Aziraphale's hold on Crowley turns a touch protective, brow unconsciously wrinkling in concern. He knows that there is a way to combine sex and pain consensually, but considering that Crowley's previous partners were other demons, he's not inclined to give them the benefit of the doubt.]

I'm not harboring any dark desires, I assure you. Aside from the occasional love bite now and then, but you seem to enjoy those.

[The only thing Aziraphale wants to overwhelm his demon with is love and praise. They can work out the specifics later. Although a certain idea springs to mind when Crowley mentions ropes and scarves, one that sends an unexpected shiver through him.]

Oh, well... if you're interested, perhaps we could set up a... [A blush appears on his face before he hides it in Crowley's neck.] ...a scene? One in which I've gotten into a spot of trouble and you need to come to my rescue?

[ Crowley wants to reassure Aziraphale that nothing untoward has happened to him. That he always beat a hasty retreat before the hooks and chains and hot irons could make an appearance. He is certainly about to when Aziraphale hastily hides his face under Crowley's chin, and made a suggestion.

He is grinning so wide, he's fairly certain the top of his head is in danger of dropping off. ]

A scene.

[ He nuzzles into Aziraphale's hair, his chest shaking with barely repressed laughter. ]

Is that what all that fuss at the Bastille was? A scene?

[ He knew it. There was no bloody way Aziraphale would get captured by humans, miracles or not. Not unless the Revolutionaries were sporting iron chains with holy seals on them for keeping angels put, but Crowley doubted it. They both could just slide out of human perception when they wanted, completely off their radar, no miracles necessary. ]

Because it certainly worked. You in those lovely frills and heels - had me reeling for centuries.

[ He lets his voice drop an octave, and murmurs up against Aziraphale's ear like the seducer he's supposed to be. ]

You know, the only thing at lunch I wanted to have with strawberries, cream and a bit of lemon zest was you.

[Aziraphale groans into Crowley's neck, his blush traveling all the way up to the tips of his ears. He doesn't need to look to know that Crowley is sporting his infamous Cheshire grin.]

No... well, not intentionally... I was feeling peckish for crepes, and I had underestimated how out of hand the Revolution had gotten, but I never knew when I might run into you, either, so I made sure to look my best while I was at it...

[Which is more ridiculous, forgetting that he could have escaped without a miracle sooner, or sitting in that prison cell and hoping that Crowley would come rescue him. He might just have to live in the crook of Crowley's neck from now on. But Crowley's words have their intended effect; he shivers and looks up, checking the demon's face for any trace of sarcasm.]

We could still do that. After you free me from my chains. Or, ah... soft ropes, in this case.

[ Crowley is more than happy to house Aziraphale in the warmth and safety of his neck for as long as the angel needs. It's much more comfortable with him there, all nice and cozy in his arms. ]

You underestimated -

[ Crowley shook his head. As far as he could tell, the only thing Aziraphale had been underestimating is himself. ]

-Well you looked fantastic all the same. Always do.

[ There isn't a trace of sarcasm in Crowley's tone or expression. There's no place for those walls here. There is, however, a hungry look mixed in with the love and tenderness, making it clear the little cogs in Crowley's head are turning, oiled by the thought of licking whipped cream from Aziraphale's naked body. ]

So that sounds like a good evening for us? Or morning. Or afternoon. Not uh, picky about times either.

[Peeking up at Crowley's expression from the safety of his warm and cozy embrace, Aziraphale's blush starts to fade. There's no place for his usual walls to be up, either, and he can let his embarrassment fade and focus on the fact that Crowley is open and willing to his fantasy.

And what an image he offers, treating Aziraphale like a delicacy to be savored. Crowley is no longer the only one sporting a hungry look.]

Well... [He lets one of his hands wander, dragging a finger along Crowley's side as if he's sampling a bit of cream from the top of a tasty confection.] It should probably be at lunchtime. For the authenticity.

[ He has to wonder what it is about the lightest of caresses from Aziraphale that set his pulse pounding and his heart aflame. Divine love may be a distant memory, but he's fairly certain it never felt quite like this, warming every inch of him. ]

Oh yes. Very important to preserve the authenticity.

[ To say nothing of the warzone that surrounded them during their - Crowley's train of thought comes to halt as an idea occurs to him. ]

...Angel, should we consider all our little outings together dates?

[ Always asking the important questions he is. ]

[Aziraphale can't quite bring himself to say the main reason he'd like to recreate that infamous moment at the Bastille. It's to change the ending, to thank Crowley for coming to his rescue with more than just a meal. The fact that Crowley is willing to combine both sends a happy little shiver through him, and he nuzzles back into Crowley's neck.]

Mmm. You and lunch. Two of my favorite things.

[The question has him looking up at Crowley again, his expression contemplative as he thinks back to those meals and bottles of wines shared, trips to the theater and museums, or even simple walks in the park. What is a date, really, except time spent with the one you love?]

Oh, I... I suppose we could. They fit the criteria, don't they? Why do you ask?

[ This gets a laugh from Crowley and a partial sing-song. ]

Lunch at nice restaurants and demonic voyeurs, these are a few of your favourite things?

[ If nothing else, they could always bond over their mutual dislike for the majority of Rodger's and Hammerstein's oeuvre. ]

And yeah, I reckon you're right. What we've gotten up to fits the bill.

[ Right down to the fact they had often acted like a pair of lovestruck adolescents trying very hard not to get too close lest their chaperones find it inappropriate. ]

Just. You know. Wondering if you felt it should count. Always wanted to take you on a nice, romantic little outing though. Properly this time. No more looking over our shoulders.

[Aziraphale is far too proper to make a gagging noise, but his expression manages to convey his sentiment. Slyly, he runs his fingers up Crowley's side again, this time giving him a little tickle under his ribs.]

Yes, and demons who don't remind me of that song, especially in bed.

[He smiles at Crowley's reply, lifting himself up a little so that he can kiss him on the lips.]

Whatever they were, I don't regret a moment of the time that we spent together. But I do like your idea. Perhaps a picnic? I still owe you one of those.

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