[ 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?
[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.
[ Crowley, a demon of minor annoyances, grins deviously before the tickling has him abruptly curl in on himself, gripping Aziraphale for dear life as he laughs reflexively. ]
Menace with those fingers, you are. Bloody menace.
[ Eager as ever, Crowley returns the kiss, and lays a few of his own. ]
Nothing for it then - a romantic getaway to the seaside ought to sort you out.
[Who knew that demons were ticklish? Well, Aziraphale had an inkling, and he's happy to have been proven correct. He shows mercy by cuddling Crowley close and resisting the urge to tickle him again.]
Merely thwarting your devious wiles, dear.
[Each kiss is a pleasant reminder of how far they've come in such a short time. Or perhaps more accurately, removing whatever final barriers remained that kept this from happening for far too long.
It's one thing to suggest a picnic, another thing entirely to propose a romantic getaway to the seaside. Aziraphale's eyes widen, one of his most glowing smiles blossoming on his face.]
The seaside? Really? Oh, Crowley, we haven't been there in ages, have we? That's a wonderful idea.
[ Crowley loves this, the cuddling is especially nice and it cuts off a mock indignant rant about just who exactly has actually been plying their wiles all these years.
He feels lax and boneless, content and warm and very safe in Aziraphale's arms, regardless of what's happening in his groin at the moment. He ignores it, of course. He's gotten very used to ignoring the persistent little bugger for several millennia and it's quite second nature at this point. ]
Mm. Pack a hamper, take a drive, and it'll be just you, me, our nibbles, and a whole expanse of shore and sun.
[He wiggles happily, already anticipating what a romantic time they'll have together. It's then that he notices Crowley's arousal, and rather than ignore it, as Crowley seems to be doing, he turns a little in the demon's arms and presses up against him, smiling suggestively.]
My goodness, all that talk of fantasies and romantic outings has put you in the mood again, has it? Or was it the tickling?
[ Crowley makes a low gurgling hum at the back of his throat, and it's his turn to hide his face in embarrassment. ]
All of it. S'just - all of you, 'Ziraphale.
[ Maybe it would develop into a minor problem, or maybe, given a few centuries, Crowley would get used to it. Either way, at least Aziraphale didn't seem to mind for the time being and Crowley rolled his hips against Aziraphale's thigh. ]
[It takes all of the angel's willpower to not coo over Crowley's sweet response. He has to settle for making a happy sound deep in his chest and rubbing Crowley's back affectionately.]
It's all right, dearest. You have all of me.
[He slides his hand down to Crowley's pert bottom and squeezes, encouraging the demon to rut as he likes. No, he does not mind. In fact, he seems to be enjoying his effect on Crowley, his body responding in kind.]
[ Just the smallest change to Aziraphale's usual endearment has Crowley coming apart at the seams. He aches with the wanting of it. Years and years of wanting and yearning, and now they can just be together and he feels truly free at last.
He's already wrung out and oversensitive from their last couple rounds and, coupling that with Aziraphale's grip on his bum, Crowley is unlikely to last very long at all. Still, when he feels Aziraphale growing hard as well, he has the presence of mind to stop rutting and adjusts their positions so he can take them both in hand, stroking along the lengths of their shafts.
Crowley presses kiss after kiss to Aziraphale's face, unable to reign in his smile, or quickening breaths. Not that he cares to anymore. Nothing to hide, after all. That will take some getting used to, but it's a change long overdue. ]
[He repeats it with the most adoring of looks, stutters it when Crowley takes them both in hand, and moans throatily as he begins to stroke. Crowley's touch, combined with the hard press of his cock, is a novel sensation that builds up his pleasure quickly, giving this round of their lovemaking a breathtaking kind of urgency.
He grips the meat of Crowley's bottom with one hand, the other burying itself in his hair. Twin points of contact to hold himself steady while he returns every kiss given, and then some.]
[ Crowley pants against Aziraphale's lips as he rocks his hips, sliding their cocks together in the deft grip of his palm.
Dearest. He'll never tire of hearing it. Or any other endearment Aziraphale picks for him. It could be absolutely ridiculous, and would only leave Crowley more besotted.
He doesn't last. He had no expectation to, at least, and he shakes apart, grinding back and forth between Aziraphale's cock, and the hand firmly gripping his rear. Even that shouldn't feel as good as it does, he thinks dumbly. Something else for them to explore another time,
Despite having just come (again), Crowley is persistent with each stroke, still sliding their cocks together, now quite slippery with his most recent release. ]
[Aziraphale has so many more terms of endearment for Crowley, pet names accumulated over the millennia that he never allowed to pass his lips. Words now archaic and others timeless, sweet sounds of affection in any language. But now, clutched tight like this, the hard slick of their erections together and Crowley's hot breath on his face, he only has the one. Dearest. A soft, gasping mantra from his very heart.
He feels Crowley climax, the desperate grind of him a telltale sign. Aziraphale comes just a few strokes later, thrusting into Crowley's relentless grip, whimpering from the sheer intensity of it. No, he is never going to tire from this, although he collapse back into the pillows once it's over, needing a breather. His hand massages where he had been holding tight to Crowley's rear, the other gently twisting the longer strands of Crowley's hair between his fingers.]
Oh, my goodness... that was... that was really something else...
[ Crowley gives a muzzy laugh, somehow both wrung out and yet dizzyingly energized, and craning his head to either lean into Aziraphale's touch or get him to pull harder.
It's only been a century and a half, maybe two (hardly any time at all for immortal beings who could exist outside such things), since Aziraphale had called Crowley his dear, but the first time had set the demons head nearly spinning off his bony shoulders. Every subsequent time had done little to desensitize Crowley - he had never expected to be anyone's dear, let alone their dearest, even Aziraphale's (however much he wanted to be). It's left his ridiculous human heart raw and aching from the joy of it, and it's a balm for old, soul-deep wounds he could never quite get to stop festering.
Every day he thinks he cannot possibly love Aziraphale more, and every day he finds himself eating his words. This wonderful, clever, contrarian, and absolutely brilliant angel, with his keen eye for loopholes and the best desserts.
Crowley can't stop smiling, and he kisses Aziraphale again. ]
Definitely something else. Out of this world. Absolutely wild.
[Aziraphale accommodates without thinking, alternatively tugging on his hair and rubbing it soothingly at the roots. They're spent and sticky, but he keeps Crowley close anyway, the soft swell of his stomach fitting perfectly against Crowley's hollow belly, still a little light-headed in his post-coital bliss.
It felt only natural to call Crowley 'dear'. The safest term of endearment when they could never be sure who was eavesdropping. He's bummed that he missed out on 'chuckaboo', that was one of his favorites. Maybe he'll take it out for a spin one day, but he has a few others to get through first.]
I love you, too, darling. My treasure. Closest to my heart.
[He punctuates his words with a kiss in return. He'll never tire of those, either.]
[ Crowley has to marvel at how well they fit together - it wouldn't be entirely absurd to think they may even have been made for each other, though he'd rather not think about it like that. But he can't deny how right it feels, snuggled up to Aziraphale, sticky and exhausted and finally having reached some kind of peace.
Each kiss, each word, leaves his throat tighter, and his mouth straining as he holds back tears, until he finally exhales, and pulls Aziraphale impossibly closer in a tight hug. ]
Angelll -
[ Crowley whines mightily up against Aziraphale's throat. It's barely even a token protest. ]
[Crowley would probably balk at the idea, but Aziraphale can't help but feel grateful to the Almighty for letting them have this, after everything they'd been through together. Was it all part of Her plan? Best not to speculate. That plan is, as he's so fond of saying, ineffable.
He can feel the tension in Crowley's frame, the trembling release of it as he holds the angel even closer. Aziraphale runs soothing hands down his back, feeling a bit choked up himself.]
Shh... we can't have that. I'm quite fond of your corporation. But I don't think I can stop myself from telling you how much I love you ever again, so you'll just have to deal with it.
[ Crowley will speculate. Crowley will always speculate and ask and let his thoughts turn him in knots. But right now his mind is fixed on Aziraphale. He makes a choked sound, something between a sob and a laugh. ]
Oh I think I can manage then. Getting a bit untenable, wasn't it?
[ He mouths a few kisses against the warm slope of Aziraphale's throat. ]
Not getting to tell you how much I adore you, I mean.
[ No sweeter a benediction has there ever been than Aziraphale's lips. Crowley closes his eyes, releasing a deep breath. ]
Not exactly how I imagined it either. I mean, not at first. Did a lot of imagining about the other stuff though and you really blew it right out the water. Couldn't -
[ He stops mid-ramble, something in his brain clicking. He peers up at Aziraphale, caught somewhere between amused and suspicious. ]
Hang on, I thought you said you couldn't remember anything from last night...?
[Aziraphale opens and shuts his mouth once, caught off-guard by the question.]
I told you, I didn't remember much, and what I do remember is more like an impressionist painting than a photograph. But you were very, mmm...
[He blushes, thinking about the seductive way Crowley had bent over, the elastic band of his pants visible, ready for signing. If not for Crowley's warm body in his arms, he'd probably bring both hands up to cover his face in embarrassment.]
You've been flirting with me this entire time, haven't you?
[ Crowley's jaw nearly hits his chest. He doesn't just gape, he goggles. He's not sure if his mind has actually shut down or if there is such a rapid tirade of words trying to spill out that every thought is like a bit of white noise.
Of course I've been flirting with you, he thinks wildly. I've been in love with you for six thousand years and have known it for at least four thousand, I have been flirting shamelessly with you since you told me you gave your sword away - ]
That obvious, was I?
[ His voice is a hoarse croak, his tongue feels too big for his mouth, and his heart too big for his body. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
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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. ]
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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?
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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.
no subject
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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Menace with those fingers, you are. Bloody menace.
[ Eager as ever, Crowley returns the kiss, and lays a few of his own. ]
Nothing for it then - a romantic getaway to the seaside ought to sort you out.
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Merely thwarting your devious wiles, dear.
[Each kiss is a pleasant reminder of how far they've come in such a short time. Or perhaps more accurately, removing whatever final barriers remained that kept this from happening for far too long.
It's one thing to suggest a picnic, another thing entirely to propose a romantic getaway to the seaside. Aziraphale's eyes widen, one of his most glowing smiles blossoming on his face.]
The seaside? Really? Oh, Crowley, we haven't been there in ages, have we? That's a wonderful idea.
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He feels lax and boneless, content and warm and very safe in Aziraphale's arms, regardless of what's happening in his groin at the moment. He ignores it, of course. He's gotten very used to ignoring the persistent little bugger for several millennia and it's quite second nature at this point. ]
Mm. Pack a hamper, take a drive, and it'll be just you, me, our nibbles, and a whole expanse of shore and sun.
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[He wiggles happily, already anticipating what a romantic time they'll have together. It's then that he notices Crowley's arousal, and rather than ignore it, as Crowley seems to be doing, he turns a little in the demon's arms and presses up against him, smiling suggestively.]
My goodness, all that talk of fantasies and romantic outings has put you in the mood again, has it? Or was it the tickling?
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All of it. S'just - all of you, 'Ziraphale.
[ Maybe it would develop into a minor problem, or maybe, given a few centuries, Crowley would get used to it. Either way, at least Aziraphale didn't seem to mind for the time being and Crowley rolled his hips against Aziraphale's thigh. ]
Can never get my fill of you.
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It's all right, dearest. You have all of me.
[He slides his hand down to Crowley's pert bottom and squeezes, encouraging the demon to rut as he likes. No, he does not mind. In fact, he seems to be enjoying his effect on Crowley, his body responding in kind.]
I can easily say the same.
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[ Just the smallest change to Aziraphale's usual endearment has Crowley coming apart at the seams. He aches with the wanting of it. Years and years of wanting and yearning, and now they can just be together and he feels truly free at last.
He's already wrung out and oversensitive from their last couple rounds and, coupling that with Aziraphale's grip on his bum, Crowley is unlikely to last very long at all. Still, when he feels Aziraphale growing hard as well, he has the presence of mind to stop rutting and adjusts their positions so he can take them both in hand, stroking along the lengths of their shafts.
Crowley presses kiss after kiss to Aziraphale's face, unable to reign in his smile, or quickening breaths. Not that he cares to anymore. Nothing to hide, after all. That will take some getting used to, but it's a change long overdue. ]
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[He repeats it with the most adoring of looks, stutters it when Crowley takes them both in hand, and moans throatily as he begins to stroke. Crowley's touch, combined with the hard press of his cock, is a novel sensation that builds up his pleasure quickly, giving this round of their lovemaking a breathtaking kind of urgency.
He grips the meat of Crowley's bottom with one hand, the other burying itself in his hair. Twin points of contact to hold himself steady while he returns every kiss given, and then some.]
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Dearest. He'll never tire of hearing it. Or any other endearment Aziraphale picks for him. It could be absolutely ridiculous, and would only leave Crowley more besotted.
He doesn't last. He had no expectation to, at least, and he shakes apart, grinding back and forth between Aziraphale's cock, and the hand firmly gripping his rear. Even that shouldn't feel as good as it does, he thinks dumbly. Something else for them to explore another time,
Despite having just come (again), Crowley is persistent with each stroke, still sliding their cocks together, now quite slippery with his most recent release. ]
no subject
He feels Crowley climax, the desperate grind of him a telltale sign. Aziraphale comes just a few strokes later, thrusting into Crowley's relentless grip, whimpering from the sheer intensity of it. No, he is never going to tire from this, although he collapse back into the pillows once it's over, needing a breather. His hand massages where he had been holding tight to Crowley's rear, the other gently twisting the longer strands of Crowley's hair between his fingers.]
Oh, my goodness... that was... that was really something else...
no subject
It's only been a century and a half, maybe two (hardly any time at all for immortal beings who could exist outside such things), since Aziraphale had called Crowley his dear, but the first time had set the demons head nearly spinning off his bony shoulders. Every subsequent time had done little to desensitize Crowley - he had never expected to be anyone's dear, let alone their dearest, even Aziraphale's (however much he wanted to be). It's left his ridiculous human heart raw and aching from the joy of it, and it's a balm for old, soul-deep wounds he could never quite get to stop festering.
Every day he thinks he cannot possibly love Aziraphale more, and every day he finds himself eating his words. This wonderful, clever, contrarian, and absolutely brilliant angel, with his keen eye for loopholes and the best desserts.
Crowley can't stop smiling, and he kisses Aziraphale again. ]
Definitely something else. Out of this world. Absolutely wild.
[ Another kiss, slower, softer this time. ]
I really do love you, angel.
no subject
It felt only natural to call Crowley 'dear'. The safest term of endearment when they could never be sure who was eavesdropping. He's bummed that he missed out on 'chuckaboo', that was one of his favorites. Maybe he'll take it out for a spin one day, but he has a few others to get through first.]
I love you, too, darling. My treasure. Closest to my heart.
[He punctuates his words with a kiss in return. He'll never tire of those, either.]
no subject
Each kiss, each word, leaves his throat tighter, and his mouth straining as he holds back tears, until he finally exhales, and pulls Aziraphale impossibly closer in a tight hug. ]
Angelll -
[ Crowley whines mightily up against Aziraphale's throat. It's barely even a token protest. ]
-gonna discorporate me.
no subject
He can feel the tension in Crowley's frame, the trembling release of it as he holds the angel even closer. Aziraphale runs soothing hands down his back, feeling a bit choked up himself.]
Shh... we can't have that. I'm quite fond of your corporation. But I don't think I can stop myself from telling you how much I love you ever again, so you'll just have to deal with it.
no subject
Oh I think I can manage then. Getting a bit untenable, wasn't it?
[ He mouths a few kisses against the warm slope of Aziraphale's throat. ]
Not getting to tell you how much I adore you, I mean.
no subject
Considering how you had me sign your underwear, yes, I think the situation was becoming untenable for the both of us.
[He turns his head, soft kisses placed on Crowley's forehead. A personal blessing.]
It's not the way I thought it would happen, but I wouldn't change a moment of it.
no subject
Not exactly how I imagined it either. I mean, not at first. Did a lot of imagining about the other stuff though and you really blew it right out the water. Couldn't -
[ He stops mid-ramble, something in his brain clicking. He peers up at Aziraphale, caught somewhere between amused and suspicious. ]
Hang on, I thought you said you couldn't remember anything from last night...?
no subject
I told you, I didn't remember much, and what I do remember is more like an impressionist painting than a photograph. But you were very, mmm...
[He blushes, thinking about the seductive way Crowley had bent over, the elastic band of his pants visible, ready for signing. If not for Crowley's warm body in his arms, he'd probably bring both hands up to cover his face in embarrassment.]
You've been flirting with me this entire time, haven't you?
no subject
Of course I've been flirting with you, he thinks wildly. I've been in love with you for six thousand years and have known it for at least four thousand, I have been flirting shamelessly with you since you told me you gave your sword away - ]
That obvious, was I?
[ His voice is a hoarse croak, his tongue feels too big for his mouth, and his heart too big for his body. ]
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