inlovewithmycar | open post

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. ]

[Aziraphale rolls to his side, and for a moment is tempted to pull Crowley close and tangle all their limbs together, wings included, into a heated embrace. He settles for a kiss, hand propped against the demon's chin, before he sits up and stretches his wings. The crest at the top, flight feathers touching, before he lets them relax and flutter behind him.]

Here, love. Take the wedge, I'll scoot in behind you.

[He moves out of the way, leaving a warm indent in the sheets from where he was lying. But before Crowley takes his place, he trails a finger down Crowley's chest and gives a tug at the low collar of his robe.]

On or off, it's up to you.

[ Crowley feels a pleasant shiver down his spine, as though following the trajectory of Aziraphale's caress, and then gives the angel an appreciative once-over. He adored Aziraphale's corporation - handsome in a soft and warm bookish way, with such lovely and expressive eyes. It reflected the entity that inhabited it perfectly. ]

Oh, definitely off. Can't let you have all the fun.

[ His eyes fall once more to Aziraphale's arousal before he slips out the little scrap of red silk he calls a bathrobe and pointedly flings it into a corner of the bedroom.

...Their bedroom.

He suspects that even on their six millionth anniversary, Crowley will still find some new detail of their relationship to marvel over. ]

I'm still having a tremendous amount of fun, dear.

[He says this with a warm smile, looking over Crowley's body in turn, admiring his thin, supple frame. Even if he wasn't hopelessly in love with his demon, he'd find his figure aesthetically pleasing, on par with Le genié du mal. Or was it Le ange du mal? Whichever statue that was removed from church for being too attractive, that'd be the one.

He waits for Crowley to get settled, then places his hands on those shiny, soft coverts and starts preening them. There are very few old feathers that need to be worked free or barbs to smooth back into place, but he takes his time, anyway, leaving no feather untouched.]

They're so beautiful, darling.

[He pauses a moment, leaning over to place a kiss between where his wings emerge.]

Just like the rest of you.

[ Crowley finds it terribly unfair how quickly Aziraphale can gently pick him apart. Dreadfully unfair even - he may have to endure this torment a very long time, just to start building up an immunity, truly, a tragedy of the times.

The demon relaxes on the wedge, stretching his limbs and luxuriating just to give Aziraphale a nice show while the angel lavishes him with attention and compliments. The kiss right smack in the middle of his back makes him jolt, both in surprise and pleasure. ]

Mmrhghmm - feels so good angel.

[ Settling down, Crowley stretches his wings out, making little sounds of appreciation as Aziraphale works his magic. ]

[It is a lovely show, indeed. Aziraphale finds Crowley a work of art from all angles, and if he's being totally honest, a touch distracting. Good thing Crowley's wings only need to be pampered and not as thoroughly groomed as Aziraphale's.

He switches to the other wing, giving it the same loving attention as the first, murmuring soft praises as they come to him. Such beautiful feathers, how they gleam in the light. So soft and smooth underneath his fingers, and how strong the muscles beneath.

His hand trails down to where the wing emerges from Crowley's back. He lightly tickles the downy feathers there, then leans in again for more kisses, all around the scapulars, nuzzling into that feathery warmth, then patiently smoothing them back out.]

[ Crowley is flushed from his cheeks to shoulders, burying his face in his arms to muffle the high, keening sound he makes when Aziraphale finds The Spot. Right there in the joint where the wing meets his back. It's always been sensitive, given how Crowley has to make several adjustments to his body just to reach it. Oh, but when he did manage - and yet it's nothing compared to Aziraphale's fingers or lips. Between that and the angel's tender words, Crowley is having a very difficult time not rutting into the pillow, hips twitching and jerking with the effort of his restraint. The demon looks quite the mess, the towel having long since unraveled, though still partially wrapped around his hair, and he glances back at Aziraphale, wild-eyed. ]

Angel - fuck-! That feels - it feels -

[ Good didn't cover it. Great felt like the understatement of the century. He could probably come just from Aziraphale messing around back there, no hands or wedge pillow required. ]

[Aziraphale, loving bastard that he is, merely looks up from the feathers with a smile before resuming his tender kisses and teasing touches. Crowley doesn't need to put into words how attention to this particular spot is driving him absolutely wild. He switches to scapulars on the other wing, his own wings draping over Crowley's, feathers brushing against feathers.]

You can take your pleasure if you like, darling. Don't hold back on my account.

[He murmurs this between kisses, one of his hands sliding down to swell of Crowley's backside, pushing him gently, but firmly against the bed, encouraging him to rut into the pillow.]

[ Crowley couldn't refuse even if he wanted to. He outright moans, thrusting into the pillow. The brush of their feathers, the hand on his ass, and the touch of Aziraphale's mouth - it was all so much. Crowley rocked his hips shamelessly, glancing over his shoulder to see just what Aziraphale was up to. He knew the angel had a streak of mischief in him, the clever, brilliant bastard, and Crowley loved seeing him act on it. ]

Fffuck, I'm close - jussst - just a bit more - angel, please!

[ Well, now he was just at the point of incomprehensible begging. Just that light brush, the very ghost of a touch, between their raw essences had him in such a state. It was, he considers, a very good thing Aziraphale was the reasonable one between them and had suggested caution. If they had gone all in as Crowley had initially wanted, they might actually vaporize the planet in a cosmic level orgasm.

Big bang, indeed. ]

[Crowley's begging does not fall on deaf ears; Aziraphale's hand slides further down his rear, cupping the meat of it and squeezing tenderly, while his wings lazily brush against the immaculate black feathers below..]

That's it, my dear. I can feel how close you are.

[He resumes his kisses, nosing into the spaces between the feathers and lightly tonguing the delicate skin beneath. Not at all a typical grooming session, but he feels empowered by Crowley's moans and whimpers, knowing that he can have a taste of that essence while keeping them both safe. Crowley can fall apart beneath him, but he'll be there to gather him back up and make him whole again.]

[ Crowley has never had an orgasm like this. It's not the intense build-up and white-hot burst of endorphins, but rather a persistent and expanding pleasure that rolls through him like a heavy breeze. It lasts several minutes and he's left shuddering and gasping, clawing at the sheets as it builds to such intensity that he's overwhelmed. The only thing in his world at that moment is Aziraphale; his wings, his tongue, the warmth of him. It's everywhere, and Crowley's wings rise and fall, feathers shivering against Aziraphale's, until Crowley's strength gives out and he collapses, utterly boneless.

Panting for air he technically shouldn't need, he paws feebly behind him, trying to coax Aziraphale from his over-stimulated wings. ]

See?

[ He's weary, breathless, and all too pleased with himself. ]

...Was right about the wings.

[All through Crowley's orgasm, Aziraphale holds him close, whispering words of encouragement, telling the demon how beautiful and lovely he is. The angel's own wings shiver and tremble, a reflection of the pleasure he feels flowing out of his beloved, their auras mingling at the edges.]

Shh, it's all right. I have you.

[He pulls back his wings as soon as Crowley requests it, moving to the demon's side and running a hand down his spine. A miracle cleans up the mess beneath him and wicks away the slick of saliva from his skin, the downy feathers around the base of his wings fluffing back up to pristine order.]

Yes, dear. You were right about the wings. And I was right about taking it slow. Imagine if I tried to curl up my soul within you now?

[He says this while he continues to fuss over Crowley, removing the towel from his hair that's all but fallen off and gently brushing the locks away from his face. He's still fully aroused, but determined to ignore his own desires until he makes sure that Crowley is completely cared for in the aftermath of his climax.]

[ Oh, fuck, he can feel Aziraphale, right on the periphery of his existence, shimmering like the sun. It's a tremendous feeling, all the warm and wonderful parts of him, but also the parts that are petty and stubborn and infuriating and Crowley loves those too because they are so vital to who Aziraphale is.

Once Aziraphale has miracled him clean (and Crowley does so hope that someone upstairs is still getting notified about the angel's miracles), he nestles close, pressing kisses to Aziraphale's throat. ]

I can definitely imagine. Had a hand in a few supernovas and I think we'd put them all to shame.

[ Long fingers dance along Aziraphale's chest, Crowley's thumb resting on a nipple which he rubs lazily. ]

Not that it wouldn't be worth it, but we should probably find a nice, quiet, and relatively empty corner of the solar system before we, ah. Go all the way.

[Aziraphale keeps a wing stretched over Crowley as they resettle, a feathery canopy that brushes lightly at his skin every so often without overwhelming either of them. He shuts his eyes and mrrs something unintelligible in response to the kisses, his fingers curling gently in Crowley's red curls.]

You certainly put on quite a show for me. Ah!

[He bucks his hips a little from the touch of Crowley's fingers on his nipple and giggles.]

I'll leave that to you, darling. You're the space expert. I suppose I'll just have to suffer through making love the mundane way until then.

Mmm.

[ Crowley agrees, leaning his head into the fingers in his hair. He did so love the way Aziraphale's hips jolted as well, so he slides his thigh between the angel's legs, so he has something to thrust up against. ]

Truly such hardships, angel, getting those sweet little human noises out of your exquisite, corporeal mouth.

[ That is to say it is only a hardship in that it made Crowley hard. Sometimes at rather inconvenient times.

But now was a good time and a very good place for it, and so he wraps his wings under Aziraphale's and around him, letting his primaries tickle the back of his legs and rear. ]

Just a tragedy, truly how shall we ever cope?

[ Rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, Crowley returns to the labourious task of sucking a trail of kisses down the angel's neck and collarbone. Truly, this is one deprived demon. ]

[Aziraphale, being the stubborn angel that he is, purses his lips petulantly, but his resolve lasts all of two seconds before he whines and presses his arousal against Crowley's thigh. Wily serpent, somehow always knowing exactly what his angel wants...

The wings wrapped around him send a sweet shiver through his own, that delightful physical sensation coupled with the thrum of Crowley's essence underneath.]

I'm sure you'll think of s-something. Clever demon that you are... oh, dearest, yes, just like that...

[He could live in this little space surrounded by Crowley's wings, festooned with kisses and teasing touches. He nuzzles and pets Crowley's hair, thrusting languidly against him, savoring each spark of pleasure as it washes over him.]

[ Crowley could carry on like this indefinitely if Aziraphale wished it. Let them be caught in this limbo of endless kissing and caressing, without worry or care for ought but each other's happiness.

The 'dearest' brings Crowley's wings sweeping over Aziraphale as the demon moans something unintelligible against his collar bone. His lips move downwards, deciding that Aziraphale's nipple endured enough teasing from his fingers and could really use some tender love from his clever forked tongue.

The shift in position moves Crowley's thigh, leaving his stomach for Aziraphale to rut into. There is nothing, he thinks, that should be at all alluring about having his belly covered in spend. There really shouldn't. And yet he finds himself quite eager to see Aziraphale paint his stomach with it.

His hands have also freed up so he makes good use of them, burying his long fingers in the feathers at Aziraphale's shoulders, gently massaging the joints. ]

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