inlovewithmycar | open post

[ Crowley's contented sigh is cut off with the need to go on yet another meandering ramble in defense of his Very Tasteful decor. ]

It's art, for someone's sake Aziraphale, and they're fighting not fucking -

[ Crowley pauses mid-rant, and decides to actually just admit the truth to himself and the world. ]

Right, fine, they are fucking, and what better way to deter the kinds of customers you don't like than with a bit of homoerotic religious paraphernalia?

[ He grins up at Aziraphale, and gives a suggestive little wriggle between his legs. ]

Especially the ones that come in with pamphlets.

[Aziraphale giggles like a fiend all through Crowley's protest and subsequent begrudging admittance of the truth, hard enough that he has to set aside the cup he's using to rinse Crowley's hair or risk sloshing water all over.]

First of all, the ones with pamphlets aren't customers. You know that type never buys a damn thing from anyone. Secondly --

[He hems Crowley in a bit more with his legs, squeezing enticingly.]

I think having a gorgeous specimen such as yourself hanging about the shop and calling me pet names is enough to drive them off.

[ Safely corralled between Aziraphale's legs, Crowley's arm snakes up to the back of the angel's head, and guides it just so that Crowley can plant slightly soapy flavoured kisses to his mouth. ]

Mm, got a bit of a game for getting rid of pamphlet pushers. Never the same way twice. Gonna have a whole new world of options with you in on the fun.

[ He nuzzles up against Aziraphale's cheek. ]

And the statue may dissuade book collectors who very much aren't your sort.

[Aziraphale indulges in a round of kissing, arms sliding forward to encircle Crowley's chest. The demon's skin is delightfully slippery under the water and he finds it a touch difficult to resume their conversation.]

Oh, you -- mmm -- you would make a game out of it...

[He gives Crowley another squeeze before reluctantly disengaging and nudging him a touch forward.]

All right, you've convinced me. The fornicating angel statue can go somewhere in the shop. Now let me get the last of the suds out of your hair before I hiccup out a bubble.

[ Crowley practically preens with triumph, leaning forward so that Aziraphale can finish his work. ]

If I'd known the best way to talk you into something is to kiss you, I would have done it ages ago.

[ Aziraphale would be well within his rights to dump the whole cup of water over the demons head. Crowley looks altogether far too pleased with himself. ]

[Aziraphale rinses off the last of the suds with as much care as before, letting Crowley have his moment of glory, but as soon as he's done, his fingers hone into the demon's sides for a brief tickle.]

It's unwise to brag about tactical vulnerabilities while leaving oneself so exposed, darling.

[He pours a cup of water over his own shoulder to wash away the coconut oil and shampoo residue. Satisfied, he pulls Crowley close to him once more and kisses his ear.]

There... what's next, now that we're both squeaky clean?

[ Crowley lets loose an embarrassingly high-pitched whine as his body goes rigid and limbs thrash and splash about reflexively. Oh that's just playing dirty!

Crowley twists himself around until he's chest-to-chest with Aziraphale, long legs straddling him, and his body comfortably draped over the angel. At least his sensitive underbelly is shielded, but his sides are still exposed. He can't stay tense for long, not in the warm water, with his arms dangling loosely around Aziraphale's neck and his ear thoroughly kisses, and Crowley relaxes once more, despite his erection. Though in Crowley's defense, it's almost ever-present these days, and he's very good at ignoring it. ]

You did such a marvelous job with my hair, how about you let me look after your poor wings while it dries?

[ It would be a while before his hair dried out, especially since Crowley had no desire to ever so much as lay hands on a blow-drier, and some of those out-of-place feathers had looked very irritating, if not outright painful. ]

[Aziraphale smiles innocently when Crowley squirms around to face him, wrapping his arms easily about Crowley's middle, but making sure not to threaten another tickle. Crowley might retaliate with a little tickling of his own, and then there'd be water everywhere. Best to save that sort of horseplay for the bedroom.

He leans in and nuzzles his nose against Crowley's while considering the offer.]

Mmm, if that's what you'd like, dear.

[He's aware of Crowley's reaction and is half-hard himself, flattered over the fact that Crowley is nearly constantly aroused by his mere presence. But he knows that Crowley will tell him that there's no rush, no need to act upon it immediately. And now that he's had a sampling of his wings being groomed by Crowley's deft hands, the thought of having every feather back in place sounds irresistible.]

Let's be off, shall we?

[ It's pleasant now that the desperate urgency to try to make up for six thousand years of not constantly trying to breath each other's air has gone from a roiling boil to a light simmer and they could focus on other aspects of being intimate. Such as broaching the topic of living together.

Which means Crowley would have to bring up The Cottage and what to do with it sooner or later. ]

I would. I would very much like. How about you?

[ He reluctantly parts from Aziraphale, getting out the tub and offering the angel a hand up and a fluffy towel. Their bathrobes seem to have miraculously manifested, folded neatly over the back of the chair. ]

[Aziraphale is better at using his words these days, as opposed to leaving Crowley guessing at his true desires. But it's an old habit to break, especially as he doesn't want to be a selfish partner. He cups Crowley's face with his wet hands, looking into his eyes to make sure that he isn't taking advantage of his demon's generosity.]

Yes, I would like that, too. But the moment you're done, it's back to your hair... and anything else of yours that needs attention.

[He smiles coyly, then lets Crowley assist him out of the tub. He dries himself off and then slips into his bathrobe, as white and fluffy as his towels. He holds out the other robe for Crowley to slip into once he's done drying himself and leads him out of the bathroom.]

The bed's probably best, yes? It'll give you the most space to work with.

Oh I can think of a few things.

[ Crowley glances down at the angel's half-hard state and gives a saucy wink, never able to resist an opportunity to pamper or be pampered by Aziraphale. slinging on his own robe. It's red and shiny and so short it can barely be considered a robe. He certainly doesn't bother closing it, instead wrapping his hair up in the towel. ]

Bed's good. Best even. Just -

[ He snaps his finger, a sizable wedge-shaped pillow appearing on their bed, the kind perfect for sprawling face down on for getting a good massage. Or in this case, a good wing grooming. ]

[Aziraphale blushes, as if on cue, a muttered good lord when Crowley puts on that slip of a fabric he insists on calling a robe. It's all for show, of course, he can't stop looking at him and needs to be gently herded into the bedroom, distracted as he is by the sight.

The wedge is an interesting addition to all the other pillows on the bed, but he susses out its purpose easily enough.]

Brilliant idea, dear.

[He kisses Crowley on the cheek in thanks, then slides off his robe and lies face down on the bed, wedge propping himself up comfortably. It's not strictly necessary to disrobe as he can manifest his wings through fabric, but he wants to get the full experience. So to speak.

He waits for Crowley to sit down before letting out his wings, not wanting to knock him over in the process. He extends them in a good stretch before shaking out the feathers and letting them rest limply on the bed.]

Ready when you are.

[ Crowley is all too happy to lead Aziraphale along, arm around his waist and help him get comfortably settled.

When the angel shucks off the fluffy robe, it earns him a wold-whistle. When his wings come out, there is a soft gasp. Crowley admires them for a time, gliding his fingers gently over the feathers. ]

I don't think I'll ever get tired of seeing these. ...Or this.

[ Crowley settles comfortably alongside Aziraphale, trailing a few achingly tender kisses along his back before sinking his teeth into one plush and perfect cheek. He grins, sitting up again to turn his attention back to Aziraphale's wings, going along with his business with an air of exaggerated professionalism, carefully folding the first joint in Aziraphale's wing to test for any stiffness. ]

[Crowley gets to see just how far Aziraphale's blush goes when he's wolf-whistled, but he keeps any protests to himself as he wiggles a little space for himself into the mattress. Crowley's simple touches to his wings are enough to spark that coming in from the cold feeling he had felt earlier, and he sighs blissfully, relaxing against the foam wedge and the bedsheets.

At least until Crowley bites him, right on the rear! He yelps and swats at him playfully with a wing, careful not to actually knock him off the bed.]

Naughty! That's nowhere near my wings.

[He stifles a laugh and settles back down, letting Crowley get to work. He's only a little stiff, barely noticeable and already relaxing in Crowley's capable hands.]

Mmm, that's lovely.

[ Crowley doubles over with peals of laughter when a few feathers swat him in the face. ]

Sorry, angel, couldn't resist.

[ He very well could resist, he just didn't want to. ]

You're not as tense as I thought you'd be - good, good -

[ Deft fingers still work the joint and comb through the rows of feathers. Crooked feathers are re-aligned, those fallen or falling out are removed and set aside, and he's particularly careful around blood feathers and new ones. Crowley has done this many times with his own wings, and both his and Aziraphale's are so similar aside from colouring that he suspects what feels good for him will translate well to the angel. He presses a kiss to the pinion and massages it with his thumbs. ]

Your feathers are so soft, Aziraphale. Just beautiful.

[The angel lets out a good natured harrumph, then smiles softly at Crowley's observation.]

'Course not, dear. I'm with you.

[The bath contributed to his state as well. As his corporation's joints go, so do the ones in his wings. They bend easily for Crowley, letting him manipulate them with ease.

Crowley is so much more careful with his wings than Aziraphale is, taking his time over loose feathers rather than simply shaking them out. The angel groans each time one is removed, followed immediately by a content sigh. No one has handled him with such loving care before. When Crowley massages the pinion, he makes a sound that is borderline obscene, arching his back and gripping onto the foam wedge with both hands.]

Ah! Oh, Crowley, that feels simply marvelous...

Doesn't it now?

[ He lightly ruffles the coverts, making sure he's gotten all the old feathers that needed to come out, before gliding his fingers over the primaries. His wings weren't quite as sensitive as Aziraphale's, having lost some of it through years of consistent grooming, but they were still quite the erogenous zone, rather like the shell of his ears or, as they'd recently discovered, his hair. ]

I always wanted to do this for you.

[ The sheer intimacy of it was enough to set Crowley's head spinning. Demons were a lot more willing to touch than their angelic counterparts, but even then, they didn't groom each other. To be honest about the only thing most of them still bothered grooming was their wings.

He couldn't imagine what it was like in Heaven, so many angels cold and distant. In Crowley's opinion, Aziraphale was overdue a good pampering. ]

Right, this one's done - let's get a look at the other.

[ He scoots to the other side of the bed, and leans over to languidly trail open-mouthed kisses along the back of Aziraphale's neck and over his shoulder blade. ]

[Aziraphale's body goes pleasantly lax underneath Crowley's deft touch. There is a huge difference between grooming one's own wings and having the one you love do it for you, which makes the spaces between his feathers all the more sensitive. He grinds once into the bedsheets, unable to help himself.]

Good thing we waited until now or... oh... my reaction would be awfully embarrassing...

[He certainly never felt like this the few times other angels set his feathers back in order. He doubts few of them know the true joy of such an intimate act. Oh, well, it's their loss.

Aziraphale rests his shiny, preened wing and presents the other for Crowley's inspection. He huffs out a laugh when he feels the demon's mouth on his skin instead.]

If you bite my rear again, I'm knocking you off the bed.

[ Crowley is awed, watching Aziraphale roll his hips leaves him with that strange hunger. Still, he'd save the angel cake for dessert. There was still the main course to tackle. ]

No need, not when I can make you do that. Though...

[ Burying his fingers in the downy coverts, Crowley leans forward and murmurs into Aziraphale's ear. ]

...We just might have to explore that in greater detail later.

[ He flicks his tongue against the lobe of Aziraphale's ear and, dizzy with love and pride, he gets to work in earnest in sorting out those feathers, just as careful and meticulous as he was before. ]

[Crowley's whisper and tongue flick send a shiver all through his wings, both from the sensation itself and the promise of things to come.]

One thing at a time, dear --

[His words dissolve into another, deeply satisfied groan as Crowley gets to work on his other wing. Crowley is so blessedly good at this. No wonder his wings always look so well-groomed, if he's using his nimble skills on his own wings. He rolls his hips again, luxuriating in the feel of Crowley's hands on his feathers.]

-- don't let me distract you from the task at hand.

The sounds you make, love. Absolutely obscene. I adore every single one.

[ He does. He's spent millennia listening to Aziraphale moan sensually through his meals and it was music to his ears.

The process of smoothing new feathers, gently wiggling out old ones that still stubbornly hang by a thread, and massaging the joints is second nature to Crowley by now. He could make this quick and perfunctory and give Aziraphale the satisfaction of well-groomed wings in a matter of minutes. But that's not how they operate. The journey is just as important as the end goal, and Crowley draws it out as long as possible.

Finally he reaches his pinion on this side, and nuzzles up against it, laying kisses upon the joint, and stroking along the soft feathers. ]

I only make them -- mmm -- because I'm enjoying myself.

[If he weren't so obviously aroused by Crowley's ministrations, he'd try to sound reproachful. The noises he makes while eating are purely of a sensual nature and there's nothing obscene about that. This grooming session is another matter entirely. He's glad that Crowley is taking his time, especially with the old, loose feathers that need to be pulled. They always sting when he does it, but Crowley makes it feel like an itch being scratched. Far more satisfying.

He doesn't moan when Crowley nuzzles up into his feathers, but rather sighs in a heart-melting sort of way. It's like Crowley is something kissing his essence, as well as his physical form.]

You're so good at this, darling. You spoil me.

Well, you're very receptive to a bit of spoiling here and there. Can hardly help myself, can I?

[ Wily serpent that he is - he can hardly stop himself from offering up the occasional temptation of good food, good drink and good conversation. Among other things.

Beyond that, Crowley always had an instinct to care for things. He'd been a caretaker to the stars once upon a time, and he had never been able to shake that urge, to see what he loves thrive. It probably wasn't the best inclination for a demon to have, but Crowley had it nonetheless, and he poured as much of it into Aziraphale as the angel would permit.

That soft, sweet sigh is the sound of a grooming well done, and Crowley looks upon his work - an angel laid out decadently, wings spread and
freshly tended - and thinks it's better than good.

Pressing one more kiss to the pinion, Crowley lays down alongside Aziraphale, unfurling his own to wrap one around the angel's back, the black feathers tickling against his bare bottom and thighs. ]

Always loved your wings. Don't see many angels with the pure white, much as humans think that's standard. Always put me in mind of the first day in spring when winters finally cleared out for good and you got that first taste of nice weather. ...Well, once I knew what seasons were, anyway.

[ He rests his chin on part of the wedge pillow. ]

So how is that? Any spots bothering you?

[They're barely temptations anymore, as Aziraphale no longer makes Crowley jump through hoops to coax him into doing what he wants to do anyway. There's no one keeping score, no one who he might have to offer an explanation that is an incredibly well-constructed loophole masquerading as Heaven-approved, including himself.

He does like to be indulged and pampered, and certainly allows it more often than not. His only limit now seems to be when he wants to return the favor.

Aziraphale turns his head to smile at Crowley, giggling involuntarily at the brush of black feathers on his bare skin. The compliment that follows has him blushing and hiding part of his face in the crook of his elbow.]

You're too kind, dear. I think I might have set an unfair expectation for the humans, in that respect.

[He made it a point to tone down his brilliance for Adam and Eve, not wanting to frighten the poor things. It seemed to take forever for the other angels to understand why showing up as a burning wheel of fire with thousands of eyes or as a massive being with multiple heads was only going to terrify them out of their mortal minds.

His wings flex once, brushing against Crowley's.]

No, they feel wonderful. Better than they've ever been.

[He reaches out and runs his fingers along Crowley's pinion, smiling softly.]

I can groom you now, if you like. Not that you need it, your wings are always immaculate.

[ Crowley's wings were, indeed, smooth, neat and had a healthy sheen to them. That didn't mean he didn't Aziraphale's fingers buried deep in the feathers, touching a part of his bare essence. ]

...Please.

[ He only just manages to avoid whimpering it. He can't imagine that Aziraphale touching him anywhere would feel anything besides phenomenal, but his wings - the sheer intimacy of it - and that Aziraphale was offering -

His heart really was doing some fun little backflips as Crowley pressed a kiss to the angel's brow. ]

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