[ Crowley's own hips twitched - it was odd that even a brush of Aziraphale's soft thigh to his own erection could elicit such a wild shock to his body. His fingers dig into his cheeks, kneading them and spreading them open. ]
Then you put every temptation I've ever done to bloody shame. Downright seductive, you are.
[ With one hand holding him open, Crowley strokes a finger around the rim of Aziraphale's entrance. His touch there is gentle, feather light, and his eyes are on Aziraphale's face looking for any sign of discomfort. ]
[That gasp does not go unnoticed. The next time Aziraphale rolls his hips, he makes damn well sure that Crowley's erection is pressed against in the process.]
Only -- oh -- only because -- because of the thing. The thing during the Cold War with the bombs.
[He knows that doesn't make any sense, but he has a demon distracting him most thoroughly. It comes to him in the next breath.]
Arms race. You -- you're -- I have to keep up with you, you fiend -- oh, Crowley, what you're doing to me --
[All good things, of course. All good things that are more than welcome. There is no discomfort on his face when Crowley touches his entrance, only a soft smile of anticipation.]
Oh, goodness. Do you intend to...? That is, oh... dearest, please. Please do.
[ It's like every nerve in Crowley's human corporation lit up like a Christmas tree, and he can feel every reverberation of it to his infernal core. Credit where it's due, human bodies were brilliant.
Crowley is sucking a hungry trail as Aziraphale goes on about arms races, feeling a warm sense of satisfaction as the angel says his name so sweetly, and he loves him all the more. He'd originally just planned on teasing him, maybe slithering down and getting his tongue in on the fun; but the way Aziraphale asks makes it sound like he'd want more than just a bit of rubbing action there. ]
D'you mean other than my fingers? I can, I definitely can, if you'd like. I mean, if you're ready and all, no rush. Can just tease a little, go as slow as you need. Everything we're doing, been doing? Feels marvelous.
[ He's rambling, suddenly feeling all nerves. He doesn't want to push Aziraphale into something he's not ready for if he's misread the signals. Not the first time they got their wires crossed. ]
[Aziraphale has never been great about talking about what he wants. That has nothing to do with Crowley, who has been patient beyond measure, but unfortunately the poor demon has borne the brunt of it, forced to guess the angel's desires based on the look in his eyes or the slant of his mouth.
He doesn't want it to be a guessing game for Crowley anymore. Especially not here. With a slow exhale, he props himself up on an elbow so that he can make eye contact with Crowley, his smile warm and a touch nervous.]
Yes, I mean other than your fingers. But I'd like your fingers first, obviously. I know you'll take good care of me, you always have.
[ Can his heart ache any more? It feels much too big for his chest, like his ribs are going to crack open and it's going to spill out all over the bed.
Admittedly, it's not the most romantic image. It involves a lot of fluids of the decidedly not-at-all fun variety that actually make Crowley quite squeamish. But one feels what one feels and he really hopes the feeling stays metaphorical. ]
Right. Yes. Not just gonna dive right in.
[ Not that they couldn't. One miracle and they'd both be ready in an instant. But they can explore that at another date. Right now it's about making sure Aziraphale knows he's loved, that Crowley would go every extra mile to ensure the angel felt loved at every turn. Heaven knows (quite literally) he hadn't been getting that from his colleagues.
Crowley kisses him again, every inch of his face until he reaches his mouth, drawing him into his with a clever tongue. His fingers are warm and slick as they rub against his entrance, parting it as he slides in the tip of one digit. ]
[As if reading his mind, Aziraphale leans down to place a kiss over Crowley's heart.]
Yes, please. Take your time with me, I want to experience it all.
[He's aware that a miracle would make things easier physically, but he craves the process as much as the end result. To make love... well, not exactly like humans, but close to it.
When Crowley finally breaches him with a tip of a finger, he moans softly into the demon's inviting mouth. He's so sensitive there, and he suspects that if not for Crowley's capable hands, it would be uncomfortable. Instead, it's nothing but the beginnings of a pleasant stretch.]
Ah... oh, that's nice... Yes, nice and slow, please...
[ It hits him suddenly, this wave of giddiness and joy. Six thousand years of having to treat every facet of their friendship like some secret, furtive thing and now, now they can just love each other openly and without shame. He laughs against Aziraphale's lips, and he can feel tears streaming down his cheeks as he holds his lover close. ]
Yeah. All of it. Definitely. We got time.
[ His voice sounds choked to his own ears, and he kisses Aziraphale again and again, while stroking his insides, just shy of that most sensitive spot. They could do this, and a thousand other things any time they want. They could make out passionately in the Ritz bathrooms or hold hands as they stroll through St. James Park. Crowley might even be able to convince Aziraphale to go see a film with him. Perhaps modern cinema might hold more appeal if they could enjoy it cuddled up together on seats miracled to be actually comfortable. ]
[Crowley's joy radiates out of him, which is why Aziraphale doesn't worry about the tears. He does fuss a bit, kissing them away, his own eyes shining in empathy.]
I know, darling, I know.
[He wants it all, too, to love Crowley out in the open as well as behind closed doors. And now that he's had a taste, he can't imagine going anywhere without at least holding his lover's hand. If there's cuddling involved, he'll likely agree to just about anything the demon proposes. So long as they can be together.
What Crowley is doing to him now, however, captures all his attention. He moans and squirms, delighting in the feel of Crowley touching him somewhere so intimate. He acclimates easily, pleasure building within him at a steady rate.]
[ Crowley keeps one steadying hand on Aziraphale's hip as the angel squirms and wriggles. It's a wonder to watch - that happy little wiggle he's always done, but now somehow even more erotic. He beams through his tears and adds a finger, shallow at first, and then gradually deepening his languid thrusts. He rocks his thigh against Aziraphale's erection, moving in time with each push deeper into his lover. ]
It's brilliant, yeah?
[ He may be talking about either the fact they could enjoy their freedom however they saw fit from now on, or possibly about how touching Aziraphale like this, pressed together and making love like a pair of humans, with all the care and tenderness that required. ]
[Aziraphale doesn't think he could remain still even if he tried, so Crowley's steadying hand is most appreciated. The sounds that Crowley draws out of him are familiar, too, happy sighs and moans that will likely cause the poor demon a mild heart attack the next time they are out to dinner. Aziraphale can't help it! It all feels so good, and he's never been good at hiding how much he enjoys something.]
Oh... terribly, terribly brilliant -- ah! These corporations are true marvels...
[Although it goes much deeper than that. Not just their bodies, but the love that Crowley has for him, the love that Aziraphale reciprocates, it magnifies and illuminates every touch. He thrusts back onto Crowley's fingers, opening up easily, resisting the urge to grind against his thigh and inadvertently ends things before they've barely begun.]
[ Crowley feels like he deserves some kind of commendation for keeping it together as well as he is. Just the sounds Aziraphale is making alone would fuel his imagination for centuries. ]
Yesss, you are a marvel.
[ Crowley forgets himself and hisses, fingers scissoring inside Aziraphale to stretch him slowly open. ]
Gonna -
[ His breath hitches as he rubs involuntarily against the angel. ]
...Gonna roll you over so you're more comfortable, okay? Just move with me, don't want to stop touching you.
[Aziraphale wants to retort that it's Crowley who's the marvel, but the words won't leave him, not while he's biting his lower lip and whining over whatever Crowley is doing with his fingers. It feels like he's being stretched in all directions, and the feeling is oddly addictive. This is not merely some means to an end --
-- for either of them, it seems, based on how Crowley is hissing and rubbing against him in turn. It's a real thrill, to know he's the cause of that. At Crowley's request, he nods and pants softly, eyes full of trust.]
Of course, dear. I'm... ohh, quite comfortable as is, but you know what's best...
[ Crowley is careful to hold Aziraphale steady as he rolls him onto his back in their little nest of pillows. He continues to finger him as he adjusts their positions, settling between Aziraphale's thighs, even hooking his elbow under the angel's knee to guide it around his hip. ]
Better angle this way, more comfortable.
[ And he could look at Aziraphale properly, see every delectable expression as they moved together - and while Crowley might admit some bias, Aziraphale was absolutely the most alluring being in all creation. It just showed how little taste Heaven actually had that they couldn't see it.
He shifted again so he was sitting upright, on his knees, and pulled his fingers out, and instead positioned his cockhead at the angel's entrance. ]
Right. We're really doing this, yeah?
[ He sounds breathless, anticipatory and eager. He wants this badly, but if Aziraphale wants to back out, he's happy to give him an opening. ]
[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.]
[ 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. ]
[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.]
[ 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.]
[ 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.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ Crowley's own hips twitched - it was odd that even a brush of Aziraphale's soft thigh to his own erection could elicit such a wild shock to his body. His fingers dig into his cheeks, kneading them and spreading them open. ]
Then you put every temptation I've ever done to bloody shame. Downright seductive, you are.
[ With one hand holding him open, Crowley strokes a finger around the rim of Aziraphale's entrance. His touch there is gentle, feather light, and his eyes are on Aziraphale's face looking for any sign of discomfort. ]
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Only -- oh -- only because -- because of the thing. The thing during the Cold War with the bombs.
[He knows that doesn't make any sense, but he has a demon distracting him most thoroughly. It comes to him in the next breath.]
Arms race. You -- you're -- I have to keep up with you, you fiend -- oh, Crowley, what you're doing to me --
[All good things, of course. All good things that are more than welcome. There is no discomfort on his face when Crowley touches his entrance, only a soft smile of anticipation.]
Oh, goodness. Do you intend to...? That is, oh... dearest, please. Please do.
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Crowley is sucking a hungry trail as Aziraphale goes on about arms races, feeling a warm sense of satisfaction as the angel says his name so sweetly, and he loves him all the more.
He'd originally just planned on teasing him, maybe slithering down and getting his tongue in on the fun; but the way Aziraphale asks makes it sound like he'd want more than just a bit of rubbing action there. ]
D'you mean other than my fingers? I can, I definitely can, if you'd like. I mean, if you're ready and all, no rush. Can just tease a little, go as slow as you need. Everything we're doing, been doing? Feels marvelous.
[ He's rambling, suddenly feeling all nerves. He doesn't want to push Aziraphale into something he's not ready for if he's misread the signals. Not the first time they got their wires crossed. ]
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He doesn't want it to be a guessing game for Crowley anymore. Especially not here. With a slow exhale, he props himself up on an elbow so that he can make eye contact with Crowley, his smile warm and a touch nervous.]
Yes, I mean other than your fingers. But I'd like your fingers first, obviously. I know you'll take good care of me, you always have.
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Admittedly, it's not the most romantic image. It involves a lot of fluids of the decidedly not-at-all fun variety that actually make Crowley quite squeamish. But one feels what one feels and he really hopes the feeling stays metaphorical. ]
Right. Yes. Not just gonna dive right in.
[ Not that they couldn't. One miracle and they'd both be ready in an instant. But they can explore that at another date. Right now it's about making sure Aziraphale knows he's loved, that Crowley would go every extra mile to ensure the angel felt loved at every turn. Heaven knows (quite literally) he hadn't been getting that from his colleagues.
Crowley kisses him again, every inch of his face until he reaches his mouth, drawing him into his with a clever tongue. His fingers are warm and slick as they rub against his entrance, parting it as he slides in the tip of one digit. ]
...Always will, Angel. Nice and slow then, yeah?
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Yes, please. Take your time with me, I want to experience it all.
[He's aware that a miracle would make things easier physically, but he craves the process as much as the end result. To make love... well, not exactly like humans, but close to it.
When Crowley finally breaches him with a tip of a finger, he moans softly into the demon's inviting mouth. He's so sensitive there, and he suspects that if not for Crowley's capable hands, it would be uncomfortable. Instead, it's nothing but the beginnings of a pleasant stretch.]
Ah... oh, that's nice... Yes, nice and slow, please...
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[ It hits him suddenly, this wave of giddiness and joy. Six thousand years of having to treat every facet of their friendship like some secret, furtive thing and now, now they can just love each other openly and without shame. He laughs against Aziraphale's lips, and he can feel tears streaming down his cheeks as he holds his lover close. ]
Yeah. All of it. Definitely. We got time.
[ His voice sounds choked to his own ears, and he kisses Aziraphale again and again, while stroking his insides, just shy of that most sensitive spot. They could do this, and a thousand other things any time they want. They could make out passionately in the Ritz bathrooms or hold hands as they stroll through St. James Park. Crowley might even be able to convince Aziraphale to go see a film with him. Perhaps modern cinema might hold more appeal if they could enjoy it cuddled up together on seats miracled to be actually comfortable. ]
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I know, darling, I know.
[He wants it all, too, to love Crowley out in the open as well as behind closed doors. And now that he's had a taste, he can't imagine going anywhere without at least holding his lover's hand. If there's cuddling involved, he'll likely agree to just about anything the demon proposes. So long as they can be together.
What Crowley is doing to him now, however, captures all his attention. He moans and squirms, delighting in the feel of Crowley touching him somewhere so intimate. He acclimates easily, pleasure building within him at a steady rate.]
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It's brilliant, yeah?
[ He may be talking about either the fact they could enjoy their freedom however they saw fit from now on, or possibly about how touching Aziraphale like this, pressed together and making love like a pair of humans, with all the care and tenderness that required. ]
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Oh... terribly, terribly brilliant -- ah! These corporations are true marvels...
[Although it goes much deeper than that. Not just their bodies, but the love that Crowley has for him, the love that Aziraphale reciprocates, it magnifies and illuminates every touch. He thrusts back onto Crowley's fingers, opening up easily, resisting the urge to grind against his thigh and inadvertently ends things before they've barely begun.]
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Yesss, you are a marvel.
[ Crowley forgets himself and hisses, fingers scissoring inside Aziraphale to stretch him slowly open. ]
Gonna -
[ His breath hitches as he rubs involuntarily against the angel. ]
...Gonna roll you over so you're more comfortable, okay? Just move with me, don't want to stop touching you.
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-- for either of them, it seems, based on how Crowley is hissing and rubbing against him in turn. It's a real thrill, to know he's the cause of that. At Crowley's request, he nods and pants softly, eyes full of trust.]
Of course, dear. I'm... ohh, quite comfortable as is, but you know what's best...
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Better angle this way, more comfortable.
[ And he could look at Aziraphale properly, see every delectable expression as they moved together - and while Crowley might admit some bias, Aziraphale was absolutely the most alluring being in all creation. It just showed how little taste Heaven actually had that they couldn't see it.
He shifted again so he was sitting upright, on his knees, and pulled his fingers out, and instead positioned his cockhead at the angel's entrance. ]
Right. We're really doing this, yeah?
[ He sounds breathless, anticipatory and eager. He wants this badly, but if Aziraphale wants to back out, he's happy to give him an opening. ]
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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.
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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. ]
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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.]
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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?
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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?
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[ 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. ]
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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...
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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. ]
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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.]
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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. ]
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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...
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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.
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