[ Crowley's smug little grin is kissed away into a soft, tender, and rather dazed expression. There are some things he'll never tire of and Aziraphale's endearments are one of them. ]
Anywhere you like, then. Anything you like.
[ He locks lips again with Aziraphale, raking his forked tongue over Aziraphale's. The massage is temporarily forgotten, but the slow roll of his hips is certainly not. He delights in the warmth and friction building, and gently nudges Aziraphale's shoulder to coax him back onto the soft duvet and pillows that had, quite miraculously, appeared behind him. ]
[Aziraphale needs little coaxing to lie back onto the pillows, although he keeps his grip on Crowley, not wanting to lose that delicious friction building between them. He may have lost the massage, but Crowley's kiss more than makes up for it. That clever, forked tongue sends a delighted shiver through him, muted by the soft duvet beneath him.]
Right here is... oh... just about perfect...
[He smiles up at Crowley, his blue eyes twinkling in excitement, wondering if Crowley has some sort of plan for what to do with him.]
As for what I'd like... that's entirely up to you.
[ Crowley is rather flying by the seat of his pants - metaphorically speaking, given that his trousers have long since been abandoned.
But that doesn't mean it's not enjoyable.
He breaks the kiss, flicking his tongue playfully over Aziraphale's lips before very slowly pulling away. As he draws back into a more upright position, he drags his hands down Aziraphale's chest, over the swell of his stomach and coming to rest on his waist. ]
How about letting me thank you for taking such good care of my hair...?
[ To paint Aziraphale a picture, he grinds his ass down on his cock, letting it brush up against his entrance before sliding up between his cheeks. ]
...And there's still the pumpkin ravioli for when you get a touch peckish.
[Aziraphale has a bit of a pout as Crowley slowly pulls away from him, although he can't complain about the view. The demon looks resplendent above him, the long braid of his hair adding to his roguish charm. He's about to say so, but Crowley renders him speechless with that grind of his ass on his cock.
Oh, that paints a very pretty picture indeed.]
Darling...
[He rests his hands on Crowley's thighs, staring up in awe as if he can't believe his luck. In the weeks they've been together romantically, they've had each other a number of ways, but it's still all so new that he can't help but wiggle a little in excitement.]
You may find this hard to believe, but food is currently the absolute last thing on my mind.
I mean, that's something that has to be seen to be believed. I know how much you love your novelty dishes.
[ Crowley feels the soft, warm pressure of Aziraphale's hand on his thigh, and covers it with his own. Beyond the fact that he may have just found the one thing that might distract Aziraphale from a beloved dish, Crowley is delighted by how happy Aziraphale seems with their new, ...well, arrangement. Love and desire really do complement each other well, he thinks. It's such a far cry from the distant, impersonal Love that Crowley once thought he couldn't live without.
That had been a very long time ago though. This is now.
Crowley entwines his fingers with Aziraphale's and gives his hips another roll, grinding down a second time before lifting them up. With his free hand, he holds Aziraphale's cock steady, giving the angel a cheeky wink as he begins to lower himself down. ]
Pumpkin ravioli is not a novelty food, Crowley, they've been making it in Lombardy for hundreds of -- ohhhh, dear Lord --
[Crowley's slow grind is the best sort of distraction, from both food and food-related arguments. The angel has taken to sex with Crowley like a duck to water. The act is not only an expression of his love, but a hedonistic pleasure that he's happy to indulge in. It's a marvel how much joy they can bring one another, simply by fitting their bodies together.
When Crowley lowers himself, the angel gasps and tries not to be overwhelmed by the tight heat that envelops his cock. The hand entwined with Crowley's squeezes while his other slides up Crowley's thigh to hold him loosely at the hip. Until the demon is fully seated upon him, he'll let Crowley set the pace. He isn't the sort to rush, anyway, whether through a good meal or mind-blowing sex.]
Trust me, dearest. My only thoughts right now are of you.
[ He might have reminded Aziraphale to perhaps save his blaspheming for outside the bedroom (or wherever else they might see fit to take their business), in case She actually opted to put in an appearance. Fortunately, Crowley is already far too overcome to bother. If their creator decides to answer Aziraphale's call, She'd just have to wait until they were finished.
Crowley is in a state of bliss - Aziraphale's girth stretches him nicely without much in ways of discomfort and he can feel the press of the angel's cockhead right up against that sweet spot. Oh yes, very nice, but a little too good just for starters. He'd like to actually last more than a few minutes, and so there's some awkward shuffling in Aziraphale's lap as Crowley makes some minor adjustments to his own anatomy - just so Aziraphale isn't hitting home with each and every thrust.
Once settled, Crowley takes a moment to admire his lover - and Aziraphale doesn't disappoint (not that he could). He is the absolute picture of indulgence, laid out in the nest of cushions like some Greek god in repose. All he needs is a bowl of fruit and a glass of wine. ]
You look absolutely divine, angel.
[ He rocks his hips experimentally at first, before leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. He leans so far, Aziraphale nearly slides out of him, but Crowley pulls back just in time, sinking back down onto his erection until he's buried once more in the demon. ]
[Aziraphale would probably just remind Crowley that if the Almighty hasn't checked in with them by now, it's a safe bet She's either indifferent to the change in their relationship, or silently approving. Not that wants to make a habit of taking Her name in vain, or swearing in general, but Crowley's lovemaking tends to override his sensibilities, always in the best of ways.
His eyes flutter shut, then open again curiously while Crowley adjusts himself upon his lap. He squeezes Crowley's hip once to check in, then blushes at the compliment.]
It must be my love for you shining through.
[He hums happily into the kiss, and as Crowley pulls back to keep him from slipping out, the angel lifts his hips up, ensuring that they remain connected. He holds onto Crowley a little more firmly, but not so tight as to restrict his movements.]
Try kissing me again, darling. I already miss you.
[ Crowley laughs, already breathless as Aziraphale just bumped that spot when he raised his hips and it leaves Crowley in quite a state. ]
Barely even gone anywhere -
[ He chides between his panting, but he cradles Aziraphale's cheeks anyway, leaning in for another kiss, because how can he refuse Aziraphale this? Or anything for that matter. Indulging Aziraphale's whims is his absolute favourite pastime, and he has no desire to stop now, or ever.
Crowley moves more deliberately this time, slow, careful, making sure his bending forward, making sure Aziraphale remains at least partially inside him. If there is one thing Crowley has to choose what he likes best about how their relationship has progressed, it's the kissing. It's the slow slide of lips as Crowley gets to taste that lovely mouth which does so much with such love. As his forked tongue probes Aziraphale's lips, Crowley begins a slow, somewhat arrhythmic rocking of his hips. ]
[Oh, so that was why Crowley was shifting about earlier. It puts a grin on the angel's face, but he doesn't take advantage. Not while he's trying to coax Crowley back down for another kiss.]
Even a moment without your kisses is an eternity, dearest.
[There's even a doe-eyed look to go with his request. A bit of an exaggeration, perhaps, as Aziraphale does need his mouth for other things, but he loves kissing Crowley any chance he can get, never tiring of its sweet intimacy. He opens his mouth to Crowley's tongue, shivering at the feel of that forked tip, already familiar with how well his demon wields it.
The kisses only partially muffle the angel's moans as Crowley begins to rock his hips, that velvety heat surrounding him sending sparks up his spine. He keeps his hands steady on Crowley's hips, holding off on thrusting just yet, waiting for Crowley to set a rhythm first before he joins in.
[ Crowley struggles to get into any kind of rhythm as he kisses Aziraphale. It's difficult to focus on so many things at once, especially when his heart is practically singing every time Aziraphale calls him 'dearest' or outwardly expresses any want for him. It soothes aches almost as old as time, like stepping into a warm bath. If Crowley had his way, he'd never stop kissing Aziraphale.
Gradually he does pick up the pace, sliding himself up and down Aziraphale's cock between hungry kisses. At each downward thrust of his hips, Crowley clenches around him, as though his body doesn't want to surrender an inch of the angel. ]
[As the pace quickens, Aziraphale's kisses become more like breathless gasps, the exquisite feeling of Crowley clenching around him making him shiver in pleasure. More terms of endearment slip out from his lips, along with praise for Crowley's beauty and movement of his body.
He knows that Crowley is keen on 'rewarding' him for caring for his hair, that gorgeous red braid that hangs over his shoulder and brushes over Aziraphale's skin every time he dips down for a kiss, but the angel is as much a giver as he is a receiver. As Crowley slides downward, he tightens his grip on the demon's hips and thrusts upward, meeting him halfway. Despite Crowley's careful rearrangement of his anatomy, Aziraphale manages to strike that sweet spot within him, somehow inherently knowing how to bring the most pleasure to Crowley with such a simple stroke.]
[ Crowley enjoys this new kind of back-and-forth between them. Well, not necessarily new new, the foundations of it were old as the planet itself. Perhaps it's more like a renovation; a new facet to something old and comfortable. This and their earlier discussion broaching the subject of cohabitation has Crowley's thoughts wandering back to a little purchase he made back in the early 19th century to hold all the things he was too sentimental to get rid of, but were too incriminating to have anywhere in his official residence. It would make a very nice home for a couple of early retirees - perhaps he should bring it up over the pumpkin ravioli.
He's not sure why the thought perusing a furniture catalog with Aziraphale is almost as arousing him just as the sweet nothings the angel's muttering, but it's certainly spurring him on to ride the angel as hard as he can. When Aziraphale starts meeting his thrusts, hitting home each time, Crowley's mind is wiped of any idle musings about picking out upholstery with the angel. His breathing becomes quick and erratic, peppering in kisses where he can though it's now mostly mouthing at Aziraphale's lips, jaw, and throat. A little miracle keeps his building orgasm at bay and stops him from spilling all over Aziraphale's belly. Panting and needy, he cradles the angel's face in his palms. ]
[It would be a surprising reveal for Aziraphale, but not the least bit unwelcome. He'd want to see this cottage as soon as possible -- more specifically, all the items that Crowley has been saving over the years. Aziraphale is very pro-sentimentality, as he's been collecting not only books, but art and curios, filling an entire bookshop with them, and he'd only encourage this in Crowley. They could make a proper home in that cottage, living as humans do (well, the fun parts, anyway).
This is definitely one of the fun parts, Aziraphale taking as much pleasure in Crowley's desperate little kisses as he is in the way the demon rides him like it's Armageddon all over again.]
And you feel like coming home, my darling.
[One of his hands remains on Crowley's thigh while the other slides up and up until he can wrap his fingers around that alluring braid of vibrant red hair.]
You're close, aren't you? I feel you love spilling out of you like starlight.
[Home. Crowley had never considered that in all his long years, he could be something like that to Aziraphale. With all the things he's feeling right at this very moment, Aziraphale has to hit him with the Inexplicable Yearning; that constant, indescribable ache he always managed to leave Crowley with.
It's definitely something well beyond words to be home to Aziraphale.
Crowley's eyes shut, his forehead pressed against Aziraphale's as his rocking hips slow into longer, deeper thrusts. It's always amazing to him just how mutual their feelings have been - he wonders how long Aziraphale felt that sense of safety and comfort, long before either of them could hint at admitting it...?
If I am a home, then let me be a good one. Warm and safe where there's always a light on. Let me be a place of love, always and forever yours, Crowley thinks, and hopes Aziraphale can feel it because he knows his vocal chords aren't going to cooperate - not when he's trying to kiss every square inch of Aziraphale's lovely face. ]
Mmhhnnphggh -
[ Crowley affirms when Aziraphale asks if he's close, because if his voice wasn't working before, it certainly isn't at the comparison to starlight. He is close, but he can hold out a little longer - indefinitely, with the right miracle - and he wants to feel Aziraphale's release. Feeling the slightest tug on his braid, however, tests his resolve, his cock twitching up against Aziraphale's stomach. Crowley definitely enjoyed the new turn their relationship had taken, but Aziraphale had such a habit gently pulling Crowley apart and piecing him back together with words and gestures that it left the demon both ragged and renewed all at once and he's sure one of these days it's going to, if not discorperate him, at least give him a weird out-of-body experience. ]
[Aziraphale knows he's struck a chord with his words, but he only speaks the truth. Crowley makes him feel safe and loved. Crowley makes him feel like he belongs somewhere, in a way that Heaven never could. He only hopes that he can be the same for Crowley, a home for the demon to rest his weary heart and soak in all the light and love that the angel has to give.
Somehow, in those garbled sounds and sweet kisses, Crowley gets his thoughts across. Aziraphale moans and gasps at the new pattern to their thrusting, rather close to climaxing himself. His grip on Crowley's braid tightens, his other hand ghosting over Crowley's cock, that twitch giving the demon away.]
Would you like to come for me, dearest? There's nothing I love more than watching you let go.
[Knowing that he's responsible for such pleasure is pleasure in and of itself, not to mention the feel of Crowley clenching around him while he comes. Already he can imagine it, the tension within him building to a tight snap.]
[ There's a high, thin whine from Crowley which he'll probably be quite embarrassed about later, but really, what does Aziraphale expect, tugging on his hair like that? Crowley's fingers and toes curl as his pace grows more erratic with each stuttering thrust of his hips.
He's certainly not able to hold out much longer, not with Aziraphale gently coaxing him to climax like that. Crowley's whole body goes rigid, clenching around Aziraphale's cock as he spills between them, leaving their lower abdomens warm and sticky.
Despite this, he continues his erratic thrusting, as though he wants to draw every last drop out of Aziraphale into him. ]
[With his fingers wrapped securely around Crowley's braid, Aziraphale tilts the demon's head back for a kiss, soothing that whine with his lips and tongue. He then lies back and watches, joyously, as Crowley climaxes. What a beautiful sight it is, the unrestrained euphoria, and he drinks it all in until the demon relaxes around him once more.
Only then does he let go of Crowley's hair and grasp both of those still-moving hips, holding tight while he thrusts up into Crowley, quickly chasing his own release until it is upon him like a burst dam. He groans and stills, Crowley held flush against him while he comes, giving the demon exactly what he wants.]
[ Aziraphale's lips to his own are a balm to all the roiling emotions inside of his over-stimulated corporation as he rides out the angel's orgasm. He slows and stills only when he's pulled close, breathless, shaking, and yet still unable to stop finding places to lavish with kisses. When he can finally string words together into a coherent sentence, he sounds ragged and yet joyous, laughter bubbling up from him. ]
Best... bloody... decision... of my life; climbing up that wall to say hello.
[ Crowley cradles Aziraphale's face between his palms, lightly bumping their foreheads together. ]
[Aziraphale lies there, sated and warm, a soft glow accompanying his adoring look as he comes down from his own climax. His hands rub tenderly at Crowley's hips, up his back to his shoulders, a slow and reassuring caress.
The kisses keep him in a pleasant haze, enough that when Crowley speaks, he only gets a hum of agreement in return. A moment later, and he smiles, fingers finding the tip of Crowley's braid and twirling it delicately.]
And I love you, my darling. Dearheart.
[He holds Crowley close, exchanging lazy kisses and letting their physical contact last a while longer. Once he's pulled out and they're clean and sorted, he gives Crowley a curious look.]
You know, you never told me why you wanted to say hello to me in the first place. A bit risky on your part, wasn't it?
[ Crowley echoes it with a soft, muffled laugh, quite liking the sound of it. Well, quite liking the sound of it from Aziraphale - he would probably be either appalled or indifferent to it from anyone else.
He goes nice and soft and relaxed as Aziraphale toys with his braid, his own fingers tracing a trail back and forth along Aziraphale's cheek. ]
Right. Risky. Yeah. You have to promise not to laugh, okay?
[The affront in his voice is pure affectation. He knows that Crowley likes it, even if he's laughing over it. Aziraphale gives him a little tickle along his ribcage in retaliation.]
My brilliant, fiery fiend, then. Who's also sweet and wonderful.
[He turns his head to kiss Crowley's fingers, expression turning serious.]
[ Crowley laughs and squirms again; perhaps from the tickling, perhaps from the barrage of compliments from Aziraphale, or a combination of both. ]
Hey! I didn't say I didn't like it - !
[ When Aziraphale eventually relents, Crowley settles back down, splayed comfortably, albeit haphazardly, over Aziraphale. ]
-Right. The garden. This was - well, it wasn't long after everything had happened. Figured by then, the dust might have time to settle. Thought I'd... I don't stop by, say hello. See which way the wind was blowing.
[ Crowley's cheery tone grows more somber, as he recalls a time where he still had a bit of hope left for Heaven and Hell. ]
I knew things were still bad; family feud and all. But I thought it wouldn't be - well, not permanent, but not perpetual animosity. Maybe give it a couple hundred years and things could change. Not go back to how they were, mind you, but get better. I, uh, well. Didn't much fancy meeting old friends and colleagues on the other end of a sword, yeah?
[ Crowley looks away, resting his cheek on Aziraphale's chest. ]
[Aziraphale keeps playing with the end of Crowley's braid, twirling the loose curl at the end around his finger, while he listens. He doesn't laugh -- far from it, in fact. In those early days, Crowley had been different... more feral, yes, but more innocent, too. It doesn't surprise him that Crowley really was just testing the waters, hoping that Heaven wouldn't hold onto its grudges, but it tugs at his heartstrings, anyway.]
I'm glad you met me, too.
[He holds Crowley close, giving a little squeeze for comfort. When he speaks, his voice has a bit of that somberness, too.]
When I was sent down to guard the Eastern Gate, I was warned that any demons I met would be foul, cruel beings, and I was to spare no mercy. But you were neither of those things. The damage had already been done, anyway, so what did it cost me to be polite? And then --
[His tone shifts; Crowley may have looked away, but he'll be able to hear the smile in the angel's voice and feel the happiness in his chest.]
Well, you were... nice to me. I know you hate that word, dear, but you were. You could have mocked me for giving away my sword or... I don't know, just scorned me in general. No one in Heaven ever really talked to me, but in that conversation, I thought to myself, 'Oh... this must be what having a friend is like...'
Not a bad warning, in general. When you think about it. Heard the same thing, yeah? 'Better watch it, Crawly, those angel's will smite you soon as look at you'. But that wasn't true. You looked, didn't smite.
[ Crowley turns to his usual self-defense mechanism of levity. It can't hurt if you can laugh at it, after all.
The fondness in Aziraphale's tone, however, is a far better balm for such old wounds. ]
Couldn't very well mock you for the thing that sent me arse over teakettle in love with you.
[ Crowley's tone softens and he finally musters enough courage to make eye contact again. He can't help but wonder at what Aziraphale just confessed... ]
You really didn't have any friends? Not even before everything sort of went tits up?
[ It's true the Archangels had always been insufferable, but there must be other angels in Heaven like Aziraphale. Surely there are others. ]
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Anywhere you like, then. Anything you like.
[ He locks lips again with Aziraphale, raking his forked tongue over Aziraphale's. The massage is temporarily forgotten, but the slow roll of his hips is certainly not. He delights in the warmth and friction building, and gently nudges Aziraphale's shoulder to coax him back onto the soft duvet and pillows that had, quite miraculously, appeared behind him. ]
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Right here is... oh... just about perfect...
[He smiles up at Crowley, his blue eyes twinkling in excitement, wondering if Crowley has some sort of plan for what to do with him.]
As for what I'd like... that's entirely up to you.
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But that doesn't mean it's not enjoyable.
He breaks the kiss, flicking his tongue playfully over Aziraphale's lips before very slowly pulling away. As he draws back into a more upright position, he drags his hands down Aziraphale's chest, over the swell of his stomach and coming to rest on his waist. ]
How about letting me thank you for taking such good care of my hair...?
[ To paint Aziraphale a picture, he grinds his ass down on his cock, letting it brush up against his entrance before sliding up between his cheeks. ]
...And there's still the pumpkin ravioli for when you get a touch peckish.
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Oh, that paints a very pretty picture indeed.]
Darling...
[He rests his hands on Crowley's thighs, staring up in awe as if he can't believe his luck. In the weeks they've been together romantically, they've had each other a number of ways, but it's still all so new that he can't help but wiggle a little in excitement.]
You may find this hard to believe, but food is currently the absolute last thing on my mind.
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I mean, that's something that has to be seen to be believed. I know how much you love your novelty dishes.
[ Crowley feels the soft, warm pressure of Aziraphale's hand on his thigh, and covers it with his own. Beyond the fact that he may have just found the one thing that might distract Aziraphale from a beloved dish, Crowley is delighted by how happy Aziraphale seems with their new, ...well, arrangement. Love and desire really do complement each other well, he thinks. It's such a far cry from the distant, impersonal Love that Crowley once thought he couldn't live without.
That had been a very long time ago though. This is now.
Crowley entwines his fingers with Aziraphale's and gives his hips another roll, grinding down a second time before lifting them up. With his free hand, he holds Aziraphale's cock steady, giving the angel a cheeky wink as he begins to lower himself down. ]
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[Crowley's slow grind is the best sort of distraction, from both food and food-related arguments. The angel has taken to sex with Crowley like a duck to water. The act is not only an expression of his love, but a hedonistic pleasure that he's happy to indulge in. It's a marvel how much joy they can bring one another, simply by fitting their bodies together.
When Crowley lowers himself, the angel gasps and tries not to be overwhelmed by the tight heat that envelops his cock. The hand entwined with Crowley's squeezes while his other slides up Crowley's thigh to hold him loosely at the hip. Until the demon is fully seated upon him, he'll let Crowley set the pace. He isn't the sort to rush, anyway, whether through a good meal or mind-blowing sex.]
Trust me, dearest. My only thoughts right now are of you.
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[ He might have reminded Aziraphale to perhaps save his blaspheming for outside the bedroom (or wherever else they might see fit to take their business), in case She actually opted to put in an appearance. Fortunately, Crowley is already far too overcome to bother. If their creator decides to answer Aziraphale's call, She'd just have to wait until they were finished.
Crowley is in a state of bliss - Aziraphale's girth stretches him nicely without much in ways of discomfort and he can feel the press of the angel's cockhead right up against that sweet spot. Oh yes, very nice, but a little too good just for starters. He'd like to actually last more than a few minutes, and so there's some awkward shuffling in Aziraphale's lap as Crowley makes some minor adjustments to his own anatomy - just so Aziraphale isn't hitting home with each and every thrust.
Once settled, Crowley takes a moment to admire his lover - and Aziraphale doesn't disappoint (not that he could). He is the absolute picture of indulgence, laid out in the nest of cushions like some Greek god in repose. All he needs is a bowl of fruit and a glass of wine. ]
You look absolutely divine, angel.
[ He rocks his hips experimentally at first, before leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. He leans so far, Aziraphale nearly slides out of him, but Crowley pulls back just in time, sinking back down onto his erection until he's buried once more in the demon. ]
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His eyes flutter shut, then open again curiously while Crowley adjusts himself upon his lap. He squeezes Crowley's hip once to check in, then blushes at the compliment.]
It must be my love for you shining through.
[He hums happily into the kiss, and as Crowley pulls back to keep him from slipping out, the angel lifts his hips up, ensuring that they remain connected. He holds onto Crowley a little more firmly, but not so tight as to restrict his movements.]
Try kissing me again, darling. I already miss you.
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Barely even gone anywhere -
[ He chides between his panting, but he cradles Aziraphale's cheeks anyway, leaning in for another kiss, because how can he refuse Aziraphale this? Or anything for that matter. Indulging Aziraphale's whims is his absolute favourite pastime, and he has no desire to stop now, or ever.
Crowley moves more deliberately this time, slow, careful, making sure his bending forward, making sure Aziraphale remains at least partially inside him. If there is one thing Crowley has to choose what he likes best about how their relationship has progressed, it's the kissing. It's the slow slide of lips as Crowley gets to taste that lovely mouth which does so much with such love. As his forked tongue probes Aziraphale's lips, Crowley begins a slow, somewhat arrhythmic rocking of his hips. ]
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Even a moment without your kisses is an eternity, dearest.
[There's even a doe-eyed look to go with his request. A bit of an exaggeration, perhaps, as Aziraphale does need his mouth for other things, but he loves kissing Crowley any chance he can get, never tiring of its sweet intimacy. He opens his mouth to Crowley's tongue, shivering at the feel of that forked tip, already familiar with how well his demon wields it.
The kisses only partially muffle the angel's moans as Crowley begins to rock his hips, that velvety heat surrounding him sending sparks up his spine. He keeps his hands steady on Crowley's hips, holding off on thrusting just yet, waiting for Crowley to set a rhythm first before he joins in.
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Gradually he does pick up the pace, sliding himself up and down Aziraphale's cock between hungry kisses. At each downward thrust of his hips, Crowley clenches around him, as though his body doesn't want to surrender an inch of the angel. ]
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He knows that Crowley is keen on 'rewarding' him for caring for his hair, that gorgeous red braid that hangs over his shoulder and brushes over Aziraphale's skin every time he dips down for a kiss, but the angel is as much a giver as he is a receiver. As Crowley slides downward, he tightens his grip on the demon's hips and thrusts upward, meeting him halfway. Despite Crowley's careful rearrangement of his anatomy, Aziraphale manages to strike that sweet spot within him, somehow inherently knowing how to bring the most pleasure to Crowley with such a simple stroke.]
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He's not sure why the thought perusing a furniture catalog with Aziraphale is almost as arousing him just as the sweet nothings the angel's muttering, but it's certainly spurring him on to ride the angel as hard as he can. When Aziraphale starts meeting his thrusts, hitting home each time, Crowley's mind is wiped of any idle musings about picking out upholstery with the angel. His breathing becomes quick and erratic, peppering in kisses where he can though it's now mostly mouthing at Aziraphale's lips, jaw, and throat. A little miracle keeps his building orgasm at bay and stops him from spilling all over Aziraphale's belly. Panting and needy, he cradles the angel's face in his palms. ]
Sweetheart, you feel so good in me -
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This is definitely one of the fun parts, Aziraphale taking as much pleasure in Crowley's desperate little kisses as he is in the way the demon rides him like it's Armageddon all over again.]
And you feel like coming home, my darling.
[One of his hands remains on Crowley's thigh while the other slides up and up until he can wrap his fingers around that alluring braid of vibrant red hair.]
You're close, aren't you? I feel you love spilling out of you like starlight.
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It's definitely something well beyond words to be home to Aziraphale.
Crowley's eyes shut, his forehead pressed against Aziraphale's as his rocking hips slow into longer, deeper thrusts. It's always amazing to him just how mutual their feelings have been - he wonders how long Aziraphale felt that sense of safety and comfort, long before either of them could hint at admitting it...?
If I am a home, then let me be a good one. Warm and safe where there's always a light on. Let me be a place of love, always and forever yours, Crowley thinks, and hopes Aziraphale can feel it because he knows his vocal chords aren't going to cooperate - not when he's trying to kiss every square inch of Aziraphale's lovely face. ]
Mmhhnnphggh -
[ Crowley affirms when Aziraphale asks if he's close, because if his voice wasn't working before, it certainly isn't at the comparison to starlight. He is close, but he can hold out a little longer - indefinitely, with the right miracle - and he wants to feel
Aziraphale's release. Feeling the slightest tug on his braid, however, tests his resolve, his cock twitching up against Aziraphale's stomach. Crowley definitely enjoyed the new turn their relationship had taken, but Aziraphale had such a habit gently pulling Crowley apart and piecing him back together with words and gestures that it left the demon both ragged and renewed all at once and he's sure one of these days it's going to, if not discorperate him, at least give him a weird out-of-body experience. ]
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Somehow, in those garbled sounds and sweet kisses, Crowley gets his thoughts across. Aziraphale moans and gasps at the new pattern to their thrusting, rather close to climaxing himself. His grip on Crowley's braid tightens, his other hand ghosting over Crowley's cock, that twitch giving the demon away.]
Would you like to come for me, dearest? There's nothing I love more than watching you let go.
[Knowing that he's responsible for such pleasure is pleasure in and of itself, not to mention the feel of Crowley clenching around him while he comes. Already he can imagine it, the tension within him building to a tight snap.]
Please, my love. I'll be right behind you.
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He's certainly not able to hold out much longer, not with Aziraphale gently coaxing him to climax like that. Crowley's whole body goes rigid, clenching around Aziraphale's cock as he spills between them, leaving their lower abdomens warm and sticky.
Despite this, he continues his erratic thrusting, as though he wants to draw every last drop out of Aziraphale into him. ]
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Only then does he let go of Crowley's hair and grasp both of those still-moving hips, holding tight while he thrusts up into Crowley, quickly chasing his own release until it is upon him like a burst dam. He groans and stills, Crowley held flush against him while he comes, giving the demon exactly what he wants.]
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Best... bloody... decision... of my life; climbing up that wall to say hello.
[ Crowley cradles Aziraphale's face between his palms, lightly bumping their foreheads together. ]
I love you, you wonderful, magnificent bastard -
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The kisses keep him in a pleasant haze, enough that when Crowley speaks, he only gets a hum of agreement in return. A moment later, and he smiles, fingers finding the tip of Crowley's braid and twirling it delicately.]
And I love you, my darling. Dearheart.
[He holds Crowley close, exchanging lazy kisses and letting their physical contact last a while longer. Once he's pulled out and they're clean and sorted, he gives Crowley a curious look.]
You know, you never told me why you wanted to say hello to me in the first place. A bit risky on your part, wasn't it?
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[ Crowley echoes it with a soft, muffled laugh, quite liking the sound of it. Well, quite liking the sound of it from Aziraphale - he would probably be either appalled or indifferent to it from anyone else.
He goes nice and soft and relaxed as Aziraphale toys with his braid, his own fingers tracing a trail back and forth along Aziraphale's cheek. ]
Right. Risky. Yeah. You have to promise not to laugh, okay?
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[The affront in his voice is pure affectation. He knows that Crowley likes it, even if he's laughing over it. Aziraphale gives him a little tickle along his ribcage in retaliation.]
My brilliant, fiery fiend, then. Who's also sweet and wonderful.
[He turns his head to kiss Crowley's fingers, expression turning serious.]
Not a single laugh, you have my word.
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Hey! I didn't say I didn't like it - !
[ When Aziraphale eventually relents, Crowley settles back down, splayed comfortably, albeit haphazardly, over Aziraphale. ]
-Right. The garden. This was - well, it wasn't long after everything had happened. Figured by then, the dust might have time to settle. Thought I'd... I don't stop by, say hello. See which way the wind was blowing.
[ Crowley's cheery tone grows more somber, as he recalls a time where he still had a bit of hope left for Heaven and Hell. ]
I knew things were still bad; family feud and all. But I thought it wouldn't be - well, not permanent, but not perpetual animosity. Maybe give it a couple hundred years and things could change. Not go back to how they were, mind you, but get better. I, uh, well. Didn't much fancy meeting old friends and colleagues on the other end of a sword, yeah?
[ Crowley looks away, resting his cheek on Aziraphale's chest. ]
Glad I met you, and that you didn't chase me off.
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I'm glad you met me, too.
[He holds Crowley close, giving a little squeeze for comfort. When he speaks, his voice has a bit of that somberness, too.]
When I was sent down to guard the Eastern Gate, I was warned that any demons I met would be foul, cruel beings, and I was to spare no mercy. But you were neither of those things. The damage had already been done, anyway, so what did it cost me to be polite? And then --
[His tone shifts; Crowley may have looked away, but he'll be able to hear the smile in the angel's voice and feel the happiness in his chest.]
Well, you were... nice to me. I know you hate that word, dear, but you were. You could have mocked me for giving away my sword or... I don't know, just scorned me in general. No one in Heaven ever really talked to me, but in that conversation, I thought to myself, 'Oh... this must be what having a friend is like...'
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[ Crowley turns to his usual self-defense mechanism of levity. It can't hurt if you can laugh at it, after all.
The fondness in Aziraphale's tone, however, is a far better balm for such old wounds. ]
Couldn't very well mock you for the thing that sent me arse over teakettle in love with you.
[ Crowley's tone softens and he finally musters enough courage to make eye contact again. He can't help but wonder at what Aziraphale just confessed... ]
You really didn't have any friends? Not even before everything sort of went tits up?
[ It's true the Archangels had always been insufferable, but there must be other angels in Heaven like Aziraphale. Surely there are others. ]
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