Hold Me, Guide Me, Love Me - The_Bentley (2024)

Chapter 1: Love Bite

Chapter Text

Crowley was having a hard time with retirement lately because while working for Hell was not his idea of a dream job, they did leave him alone most of the time to pull relatively minor stunts with which he amused himself. He still planned out elaborate pranks, but he found they were not as fun as they were when he was engaging in a bit of subterfuge and making Hell think he was working hard to corrupt souls. He had decided to launch a carefully thought-out scheme today that he had spent months on. It would have resulted in a text message bungle that would have led to confusion when every text sent in the UK over the next twenty-four hours ended up being sent to a total stranger rather than the recipient. But now it didn’t seem worth it if he wasn’t pulling one over on his former bosses. The thrill of possibly getting caught was gone. It wasn’t that Crowley had wanted to get caught, per se. It was the excitement of knowing he had got away with it and Head Office was still happy with his half-arsed attempts at tarnishing souls. The scheme was scrapped, and he spent the day in utter boredom, waiting for Aziraphale to close up for the evening.

As for that, he had thrown himself whole-heartedly into his relationship with Aziraphale now that it had expanded from a close friendship into something romantic. He and Aziraphale lived together now, more or less. They alternated between living spaces, spending some nights at Crowley’s flat and some nights in the flat above the bookshop. Both needed to maintain their own spaces because they were so different in how they defined their personal aesthetics. Crowley could retreat to his flat when he needed to be alone, and Aziraphale had the bookshop as his personal space.

Yet no matter the private space they occupied together, Aziraphale noticed a distinct change in Crowley’s behaviour. The demon had an upfront forceful personality fuelled by sarcasm and a very blatant disregard for authority — even when he was on Hell’s side, he would be as informal, cheeky and disrespectful towards upper management as he could get away with without facing punishment. If a line was drawn in the sand, Crowley would be the first to step over it, most likely with a smirk on his handsome face as he did so.

But not with Aziraphale, with whom he was soft, gentle and kind most of the time. Sure, they let their bastard sides out in each other’s presence on many occasions over the long years and had turned bickering into a flirtatious art form, but that only showed the level of comfort they felt with each other. Crowley was never soft and gentle with anyone but Aziraphale. Kind? That was debatable. At the very least he practised common courtesy with the humans he encountered — as long as they didn’t anger him — and never did anything to add to humanity’s misery beyond his usual annoying pranks. Well, and one’s life was pretty much forfeit if one made any attempt to harm his angel, but for the most part, he was fond of humans and left them to live their short lives without too much interference from his demonic nature.

And Aziraphale had noticed the private shift in behaviour almost immediately. Crowley was up first every morning to make tea for him. When he left stuff around his flat, Crowley would pick it up and put it back where it belonged. If he had a hard day and Crowley was aware of it, he’d draw a relaxing bubble bath for Aziraphale or bring home takeaway sushi. The book he was reading was always within reach. The shampoo and body wash he used always full. The fridge always stocked with his favourite foods. Crowley was always available to give him needed cuddles. Things that were sweet if viewed individually, but added up to something else entirely when Aziraphale looked at the big picture.

Sometimes during quiet times in the evening when Aziraphale decided to read, Crowley would lay in his lap and doze or sit on the floor between Aziraphale’s knees with his head on the angel’s thigh and stomach burrowed in the fuzzy softness of his waistcoat. Aziraphale would reach down around his book to pet his hair and the demon would let out contented sighs every so often. This is how he was tonight when Aziraphale decided to broach the subject with him as they spent a quiet evening together in the bookshop.

“Why do you sit on the floor like that? You have such long legs that it doesn’t look comfortable.”

Crowley shrugged, lifting his face up, so he could look at Aziraphale. “I don’t know. It . . . feels right.”

Aziraphale pulled him up, placing a kiss on Crowley’s well-defined cheek then patted the couch beside him. “Come up here. We need to have a discussion.”

Fearing the subject was something negative, Crowley was apprehensive as he climbed up on to the couch and sat down, leaning against Aziraphale who pushed up to a sitting position with gentle hands.

“No, please sit up for this.” Seeing Crowley’s worried look, Aziraphale broke out into a reassuring smile. “It’s nothing terrible, my dear. We should have this conversation without lying all over each other. We need to be paying attention to each other’s words.”

“Ok.” Crowley’s brow crinkled in confusion, but he allowed Aziraphale to continue.

Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand, enveloping it between his two as he stroked along the top of it from wrist to knuckles. “I’ve noticed you do a little of little things for me but never ask for anything in return.”

“Do I need to?”

“Not if you get enjoyment from the act of performing them.”

“Of course I do. I wouldn’t do them if I didn’t.”

“And you like it when I take control in the bedroom.”

“Yeah. So?”

“You sound submissive, Crowley. Well, at least with me because you certainly aren’t submissive with the rest of the world. Are you?”

Crowley looked thunderstruck, to say the least. He glanced at Aziraphale, then down into his own lap as he gave careful thought to the answer he was going to give. Was he submissive? He didn’t particularly feel submissive, but there was something very special about doing tasks for Aziraphale to make sure he was happy. Or sitting on the floor while he read on the couch. Or allowing him to take control in the bedroom. He felt safe and protected when Aziraphale was in charge because he could let go, knowing he was not going to be judged for it. It was an interesting side to his personality, he mused as he thought about how much he wasn’t a submissive out there in the world beyond the bookshop and his flat. Since splitting from Hell he would not stand for being ordered around, and the Dark Council could barely keep him in line when he was under their thumb. Nobody told him what to do these days. Unless they were the plump blond angel he adored. Maybe one could be submissive for the right person. Maybe the right person was the only person in the world one would ever submit to. Crowley wondered if he had wandered into a perfect storm.

Aziraphale sat patiently for the few seconds it took for these thoughts to travel through Crowley’s mind, for this was a subject that shouldn’t be rushed. Finally, his golden eyes sought out Aziraphale’s blue ones. Crowley appeared determined, curious and frightened all at the same time, and Aziraphale wondered if he had been thinking the exact same thoughts for a while but was too apprehensive about bringing them to Aziraphale’s attention. For now, he stayed quiet to give Crowley a chance to answer. He was asking him to confirm or deny a trait he might not want to have brought to light with the angel. Aziraphale needed to proceed carefully.

“I might be, but only with you. You’re safe and I can be very open and vulnerable with you.” Crowley thought it sounded lame as it came out of his mouth, but he didn’t have the words right now to express himself more fully. The ones that came out were going to have to do. “Do you like that I am?”

“Yes, very much. I love all the little acts of service you do for me and that you sometimes allow me to take control in the bedroom. Do you want to continue like that, test it out?”

Crowley nodded with a blush and his fingers curled against Aziraphale’s palm, stroking along it in a motion meant to reassure the angel that he was serious about this. Aziraphale had learned that Crowley integrated touch into his communication and was figuring out what kinds of touch meant what. This was subtly exciting touch, telling him his partner was on board with this. He smiled at him in return, bringing one hand up to caress along his cheek.

“All right, then. Let’s start simple because it’s not like we can’t change things if they don’t work, or we want something different. Come,” Aziraphale rose from the couch and went into the bookshop’s backroom. “I’m going to make some tea. We’re going to sit down at the table here and work about all the details. This is something we shouldn’t go into without an idea of each other’s boundaries and hard limits.”

Crowley followed him into the backroom, sitting at the table while Aziraphale bustled around the kitchenette getting the tea ready. He brought a tray overladen with a teapot, cups, sugar, milk and a small plate of the kind of biscuits Crowley favoured those rare times he was feeling peckish. Settling down in the empty chair, he poured two cups of tea, handing one over to Crowley, then helped himself to some biscuits while Crowley doctored up his tea with milk and sugar before doing that himself. They were ready to talk.

“What do you want?” he asked Crowley. “It’s important you tell me what your thoughts are on this, so I don’t go and make a mess of it.”

With that question, they spent a good amount of time discussing back and forth bedroom desires and limitations, discovering that they were on the same page, to the surprise of both. Crowley had been deeply convinced he had wanted more than Aziraphale would be comfortable providing while Aziraphale was surprised at himself for how much he wanted this and wanted to make Crowley as happy was Crowley was making him. They had both arrived at the simple realization that it did not matter which side of the equation one was on, the point of being a dominant or a submissive was as much to make your partner happy as well as yourself. Sexual activities hammered out, they moved on to ones outside the bedroom. Crowley stared at his tea, unable to speak out loud about what he wanted. Aziraphale reached across the table to lay his hand on his partner’s.

“It’s ok. Take your time. I know this is all new for us, and we shouldn’t rush it.”

Crowley licked his lips, looking up. “I only ever feel submissive to you. And it’s not something I want to do in public because this is ours alone. Nobody but us needs to know what we have. I need us to remain equals outside this bookshop and the flat.”

“I don’t have a problem with that at all.”

“And I don’t want to be micromanaged. I’m not so submissive that I need to be waiting on you hand and foot twenty-four-seven. I love doing little things for you, but I want to maintain what we have right now. I’m not glued to your side constantly doing your bidding and I doubt I’ll ever be at that level of service. Is that a problem for you?”

“Not at all.”

“And I still have a voice. If I don’t feel safe or comfortable doing something you ask me to, I get to tell you my concerns.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, my dear. I don’t want a dictatorship. You need to feel as happy in this relationship as I do, otherwise, there is no point.” Giving Crowley a loving smile, he squeezed his hand in reassurance. “I want to give you what you need as much as you want to give me what I need. That hasn’t changed at all.”

Crowley squeezed his hand back with a smile, looking more confident about this than he had when they first started this conversation. Aziraphale beckoned to him and the demon came to stand beside him. Rising out of his seat Aziraphale pulled him into a kiss, their tongues meeting as they embraced, feelings overcoming him that he couldn’t at all explain. A strange unbidden urge to unbutton Crowley’s henley, push it back and lay his tongue against his skin to lick and suck at it built, becoming strong enough he found himself compelled to act. Pushing back the fabric so Crowley’s left pectoral was exposed, he lay his mouth upon it above his nipple, giving in the primal urge to suck on the spot, run his tongue over it and leave long swipes of wetness behind. It felt hot. His own mouth was heating up as well, reaching strange temperatures he didn’t understand. Was this true lust? Why the need to keep sucking and licking at Crowley in this one particular place? Why wasn’t Crowley complaining about it? If the heat in Aziraphale’s mouth was uncomfortable to him, he reasoned it had to be uncomfortable on the demon’s bare skin. But Crowley stood still, head thrown back, moans coming from his mouth as Aziraphale’s tongue and mouth worked the spot despite the heat rising the more Aziraphale licked at it. Finally, he involuntarily bit down, causing Crowley to cry out, but not in pain. Aziraphale couldn’t identify the sound’s emotion, though. Something inside him would only tell him it wasn’t uttered out of negative emotions.

“Mine.” It was Aziraphale’s voice, but he felt detached from it.

And it was over. The angel was pulling off of Crowley’s chest in confusion, scared and worried about the mark left. Stumbling back out of Crowley’s embrace, he stared at it. Crowley did not seem concerned at all as Aziraphale stared up into his serpentine eyes. In fact, he appeared quite serene. Holding out his hand, he took Aziraphale’s and led him to the couch where they sat side by side, Aziraphale’s head on his shoulder, Crowley’s leaning against Aziraphale’s, his arm around the angel. Aziraphale stayed there a while before sitting up to examine the mark.

He ran his fingers over a silvery love bite on Crowley’s left pectoral. Odd. Love bites were usually reddish in hue, or closer to a bruise. This looked like someone brushed a layer of metallic paint over Crowley’s skin. Crowley shrugged with a smile at Aziraphale’s astonished reaction. He stroked his angel’s hair and wondered if Aziraphale was even aware of what he had done. Some explanation was in order.

“It’s true love, angel. You’ve marked me as yours,” he said finally. “That’s the only time the urge to do that overcomes a celestial being. Maybe an infernal one. I don’t really know if demons still have that ability. It’s not like we pair off any more. That stopped with Fall and a good number of people losing their mates. How about Heaven? Do angels still pair off?”

“No. I didn’t know about the marking. Is that a dominant thing?”

“Nah, it only shows you’re taken. Kind of like how humans use wedding rings and other ways to show they have a mate. If my theory’s right, I’ll get the urge to do it back sometime. It always happens in pairs. Quite a few of the star makers were in relationships.”

“Is it permanent?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t mind?” Aziraphale ran his hand over the silvery mark one more time.

“Not at all. Will you mind when I do it to you?” Crowley sounded like he was concerned Aziraphale would object to such a mark.

“Of course not! I would never object to a sign of your love. I don’t remember us being programmed to do such things.”

“That was a long time ago and times change. Don’t worry about it. How about I clean up the mess from tea, and we can start exploring this new dynamic of ours?”

Aziraphale smiled. “I’d like that very much.”

Crowley went to take the mess to the kitchenette and did the washing up by hand. Smiling with a heart filled with love for his demon, Aziraphale settled into his chair at his desk to get some paperwork done until Crowley finished up his chore. It wasn’t long before the two walked hand-in-hand up the spiral staircase to the tiny bedroom in the flat upstairs.

Chapter 2: A Bad Case of Distraction

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The bell jingled with Crowley’s entrance a half hour or so after the bookshop’s closing, Aziraphale looking up from the paperwork he was finishing now so he would have the rest of the night free with Crowley. But he had one thing to do before finishing his scrupulous paperwork. Getting out a thin black leather collar with red stitching and an O-ring, he waited for Crowley to come into the office. The demon appeared a moment later to greet him and give him the first kiss of many they’d exchange tonight before he knelt in front of Aziraphale so the angel could buckle the collar around his neck. Smiling proudly, he ran a loving hand through Crowley’s hair as Crowley put a hand up to caress Aziraphale’s. They had developed some rituals of their own in the time since they decided upon this dynamic and had found putting a collar on Crowley when he needed to be in submissive mode really helped his headspace along.

“Going to strip or not?” Aziraphale asked. He always gave Crowley the option to decide that when it came to chores.

“Not for now. It’s cold out there.”

“All right. There is washing up to do and the statues around the shop could use some dusting. That should keep you busy while I finish up my work here.”

“Yes, sir.”

Crowley disappeared into the backroom, the sound of water running noticeably a moment later. Aziraphale finished his accounting to the sounds of his cocoa mugs being scrubbed clean. He had moved on to inventory-related paperwork by the time Crowley had put the clean mugs up on their shelf, the sparkling teapot in its place and neatly hung the towels on the rack to dry out. Walking by with a dust rag, Crowley started to wipe the dust off the statues in the entryway. Aziraphale smiled to watch him then got back to work, pushing his fountain pen along the paper just that much faster. Another ten or fifteen minutes, and he was finished for the evening. Putting everything away in his desk drawers, he went out into the bookshop proper to search for Crowley. He found him near the back, wiping down the wings of a replica of Winged Victory.

“Head on upstairs, Crowley. I’ll be there in a minute,” Aziraphale told him in a voice made husky with longing.

Crowley nodded with a hint of a smile. “Of course, sir.”

He bounded up the spiral staircase to the flat on the first floor. In the Victorian-style living room was a pillow on the old couch that was his to use. Setting it on the floor by Aziraphale’s favourite reading chair, he proceeded to undress, placing his clothing neatly on the couch for now. Kneeling on the pillow, he set his hands on his thighs and waited, eyes on his hands, ears listening for Aziraphale’s footsteps on the stairs. Aziraphale would take longer than a minute because he was aware of Crowley’s impatience. The demon would be left for a while cooling his heels, unclothed and kneeling submissively on the pillow. He shifted, trembling slightly with the urge to get up and crack the front door, so he could peer out of it at the stairs, but on his pillow he stayed because Aziraphale would lecture him for not obeying.

He looked up as he heard the sound of Aziraphale’s brogues on the stairs, remembering just in time he was supposed to be waiting patiently, not look like he was ready to jump off that pillow into his angel’s arms. They had discussed his impatience, and he had decided it was a character flaw worth working on. Being forced to wait like this was part of that, even if he hated it like no other. His heart fluttered against his ribcage as the door opened, Aziraphale entering to hang the cardigan he always wore during chilly days on the coat stand by the door. Only then did he pay attention to the naked demon kneeling beside his reading chair. Walking over he sat down, leaning over to take Crowley’s head in his hands and place a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose followed by one on each cheek.

“I was thinking dinner later, but what shall we do in the meantime?” he asked as he stood back up, Crowley craning his neck to keep looking at him.

“Me?” suggested Crowley.

“Do you think you deserve sex, my dear?”

“I’ve been good.”

Aziraphale gathered Crowley’s clothes and indicated he should stand. “To the bedroom, then. If you continue to be good, I’ll give you these back, and we’ll go out to eat. If not, we’ll eat here and you can kneel at my chair during dinner. Maybe I’ll let you have a bite or two.”

Crowley stopped in his tracks briefly, glad for once that Aziraphale was behind him, although the angel was most likely back there if only because he could take a good look at Crowley’s bare arse and swinging hips as he swaggered down the hallway to their destination. Aziraphale watched with pure lust flowing through him, making him happy Crowley didn’t have eyes in the back of his head or they would be pointed at a certain area of his body. A few steps and they would manage to reach the bedroom without having ravaged each other. Some days that seemed like a miracle.

“On the bed,” commanded Aziraphale, making quick decisions in his head on what they were going to do. “No, wait. You’re going to give me a blow j*b and if you satisfy me, then you’ll get something in return. I haven’t decided if that will be a hand job or a blow j*b in return.”

Sitting in the chair he pulled out his co*ck while Crowley slid off the bed and crawled between Aziraphale’s legs eager to please. Looking up at his angel with a cheeky wink, he broke eye contact long enough to take Aziraphale’s co*ck in his hands, bending down to lick every centimetre of it while one hand rested lightly on his balls. It was nice not truly having a gag reflex, he mused as he took the entire shaft into his mouth until the tip touched the back of his throat as he sucked. Or the need the breath, Crowley amended as he debated drawing it in to further inhuman depths as he sucked hard, determined to give Aziraphale the most pleasure possible. He could hear the angel humming as he watched his eyes half-close with pleasure. Crowley would have grinned in a self-congratulatory manner if he had been able to.

Pulling almost all the way off, he flicked his preternaturally long tongue over Aziraphale’s frenulum, licking frantically from side to side while the hand on the back of his head tightened in his hair while Aziraphale’s right leg began to shake the way it did when he was getting exactly what turned him on and kept him going. Bobbing his head, Crowley plunged back in, sucking for all his might as his fingers cupped his angel’s balls before moving to scratch lightly along the crease of his thigh, causing it to tremble even more. The demon was about ready to pat himself on the back, at least figuratively, when Aziraphale’s voice cut across his thoughts like a sharp knife.

“Is it no longer your place to get arrogant with me, Crowley. You’d better watch yourself if you want an org*sm in return.” Aziraphale managed to convey stern tones despite the barely controlled breath underlying the sentence. He was only just holding it together under Crowley’s onslaught.

And Crowley wasn’t done. Miracling some wetness on a finger, Crowley stroked it in the sensitive area below Aziraphale’s genitals, prepared for the bucking he knew would come when the sensations hit his partner. The co*ck in his mouth was shoved in deeper, making Crowley drool slightly, but he recovered quickly getting back to giving his angel the best blow j*b ever. The combination of rubbing and sucking was starting to take Aziraphale to the edge. Success. Proud of himself he increased the pressure of his tongue on the underside of Aziraphale’s co*ck while rubbing in wide circles with his index finger. He could all but feel the pressure build, heard Aziraphale’s breathing become rapid and prepared for what was about to forcefully pour down his throat. The warm liquid came with a grunt from Aziraphale and a sharp tug to Crowley’s hair that shot pain across his scalp, causing him to hiss before he was occupied with more pressing concerns, like swallowing Aziraphale’s load before it dribbled out over his chin.

He was partially successful, swallowing it down while a small amount ran from the corner of his mouth to drip on to his bare thigh. Quickly he let go to wipe away the offending drip before it annoyed him further. Nothing like making a mess. He wasn’t given a chance to clean it up further before Aziraphale was dragging him up by his collar to kiss him forcefully, tongue shoving into his mouth to claim him again. Crowley could feel Aziraphale’s fingers dance along his love mark, the feeling electrifying. He was on his knees, but still, he felt like he was going to collapse.

He didn’t know how he got there, but Aziraphale had got him to the bed and laid him out upon it, naked and on display like he was a work of art. Crowley blushed slightly at his own nudity when he looked upon the fully dressed angel standing over him, the lust in his sky blue eyes not abated in the slightest by the blow j*b he had just received. Crowley tried smiling up at him, wondering what the next step of this sexual encounter held for him.

Aziraphale climbed on the bed, kneeling over Crowley with a thoughtful look flitting to his collar then his wrists before lighting back on Crowley’s serpentine eyes. “I should tie you. How about your wrists to your ankles, leaving you completely exposed to me?”

“I kind of already am.”

“Hush.”

Soft black leather cuffs were wrapped around Crowley’s wrists and ankles, buckled on to keep them secure. Aziraphale pulled one leg up and stretched the corresponding arm down so Crowley’s ankles met his wrists. Threading rope through the rings on cuffs, Aziraphale deftly tied Crowley’s limbs in place, knotting the rope to keep the tie secure. Soon both of Crowley’s legs were pulled up against his belly, leaving everything below the waist on display for Aziraphale’s pleasure. He struggled against them, testing the bonds until he realized he must look like an overturned turtle in a futile attempt to flip himself over the right way. Aziraphale must have agreed, given the laugh he allowed to escape from his lips.

“Oh, my lord, I’m sorry, my dear. I did this to you, I shouldn’t be laughing over it.”

His soft hands closed around Crowley’s co*ck, his thumb sliding around over the head, concentrating on rubbing along the underneath where it was the most sensitive. Crowley jumped, the tie reducing it to a pathetic little hop that almost made him fall on to his left side. Aziraphale let go mid-stroke, peals of laughter shaking him as he tried to quell them with a hand over his mouth, his partner looking indignant before turning away with a flush upon his well-defined cheeks. He gritted his teeth due to the sudden lack of stimulation on his aching co*ck that was crying to be taken care of.

“Sorry,” Aziraphale giggled. “You do look like a turtle on its back.”

“Thanks.” That one word dripped with sarcasm and impatience. “I can miracle my way out of this if it’s not going to work, you know.”

“No, no. I can do this, my love.”

Take two ended in giggles. Crowley received a minute or two of rubbing before Aziraphale fell over again in laughter, prompting him to miracle himself free and storm off to the bathroom with his clothes. Aziraphale heard the lock snick into place and knew he would not be able to get in. Crowley would have locked him out with a miracle. Aziraphale approached anyway, leaning his forehead of the cool wood of the door as he gave a soft knock. He closed his eyes and sighed, feeling like quite a horrible person right now. He couldn’t even stifle his own distractions to reciprocate after that wonderful blow j*b Crowley had bestowed upon him.

He almost fell into the bathroom when Crowley wretched the door open, brushing coldly by Aziraphale. His collar fell to the floor, the metal ring on it clattering against the bathroom’s hard tile. Aziraphale let it go, choosing to run after his upset demon. Grabbing him by the arm, he almost recoiled when Crowley turned furious yellow eyes towards him, his own eyes casting downward to avoid his gaze.

“I’m sorry, Crowley.”

The sunglasses were slid over his eyes, showing Aziraphale just how upset and vulnerable Crowley felt right now and just how much he wanted to retreat behind his customary armour, preventing his emotions from showing to even his own partner. The angel gestured to the living room with a small smile.

“Come sit down. Please? We can talk about this.”

“You made fun of me, Aziraphale. That’s a rather sh*tty thing to do, don’t you think?”

“Yes, it was. How can I make it up to you?”

The look Crowley gave him was not comforting at all and Aziraphale found himself with his back against the wall for not the first time in his relationship with Crowley. The demon was nose-to-nose with him again, but the white-hot temper was replaced by something more cold and calculating. Aziraphale tried to calm his fluttering heart to listen to what Crowley actually had to say as he stood in the hallway keeping the angel from escaping by pressing their hips together. If Aziraphale hadn’t had been in a refractory period, his co*ck would have been at attention already, and he found himself rather thankful that he had climaxed earlier. This situation was fragile enough without his body deciding to insert its own opinion into the conversation.

“I suggest you take me to that bed again, miracle yourself another hard-on and finish what you started without laughing because if you do, I’ll turn the tables and use a little miracle of my own to gag you. And tomorrow I’ll be more than happy to return to our dynamic if you apologize nicely.”

Crowley’s mouth was hungrily on his, insistent as his hands started to wander Aziraphale’s body. Whimpering, Aziraphale pulled him closer, effectively sandwiching himself between his lover and the hallway wall, but it didn’t matter. Crowley was willing to try it again even though Aziraphale had made a complete mess of things with his ill-timed outbursts. Hands and mouths all over each other, they were stumbling blind towards the bedroom again, looking like a horny couple in a romantic comedy as they did their clumsy best to get into the room and onto the bed. Falling on to its faded quilt, they undressed one another then Aziraphale slid into Crowley, this time without a bad case of the giggles. It was quick and primal, Aziraphale noting that even he fell under that spell as he thrust into Crowley again and again while biting his earlobe a little less than gently.

“Oh, angel!”

Everything would be fine. Crowley forgave him with that cry and now they were both settled down in the bed, Aziraphale holding his demon while murmuring faint apologies over again until Crowley’s breathing slowed. He stopped responding altogether soon after, fast asleep on Aziraphale’s chest. Aziraphale allowed him to be, stroking his hair in a protective manner while he stayed awake watching the shadows cross the room and the darkness fill it. Only then would he doze off for the night, to awaken to Crowley once again wearing his collar.

Chapter 3: Soothe the Savage Beast

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The dynamic had been going smoothly since Crowley stormed out after Aziraphale’s bad case of laughter, resulting in a much more contented angel and demon. Crowley loved doing his continued acts of service for Aziraphale while Aziraphale enjoyed the extra pampering he was receiving. This evening Crowley had headed out to fetch takeaway while Aziraphale stayed back at Crowley’s flat making preparations for their negotiated scene, which didn’t take much as Crowley had left everything needed out within easy reach. Aziraphale was delighted to find he had done so without any sort of reminders despite the fact the demon’s memory was like Swiss cheese this week, and he had been forgetting a lot. It was quite odd, given that supernatural beings didn’t suffer from maladies that affected humans. Aziraphale was starting to get worried about it, but for right now it was their time to relax and play. Addressing issues could wait until tomorrow.

The sound of the front door slamming shut prompted Aziraphale to peek out of the bedroom down the hallway towards the living room. Stumbling in, Crowley dropped bags of sushi on the white carpet before sliding down against the wall to a sitting position, clutching his head. Aziraphale was down the hall in a flash, beside him, cupping his head in his hands and tipping Crowley’s face towards him where he could examine him with a worried expression. He noticed Crowley’s breaths were coming fast and sweat was beading along his forehead.

“This is not right, my dear. It’s like you’re sick. Demons do not get sick.”

Crowley curled in a ball, hands covering his head, moaning. “My head hurts, angel. So much.”

Something hit Aziraphale around his hip as he crouched in front of his partner. He turned back to Crowley in concern. “You’re . . . growing a tail. What is happening to you, Crowley?”

Crowley’s arms fell from the top of his head, revealing two twisted horns curled over his head from his forehead to nearly the nape of his neck. Aziraphale staggered back, almost falling on his bum in his haste to get away from Crowley, who was staring at him out of eyes that had become full-on yellow and showed not a hint of recognition. His lip curled up to reveal a mouth full of sharp teeth with eye teeth that had lengthened into fangs. His newly-grown claws flexed in the carpet, ripping at it as he leaned forward hissing at a scared Aziraphale before shredding his own clothes to almost nothing as they no longer comfortably fit his body, which had grown two sizes too large for them. Muscles rippled along his limbs and chest.

“Angel.”

It was a cold statement of Aziraphale’s species, not a loving pet name made as Crowley crawled menacingly towards him. Aziraphale nodded calmly in order not to escalate the situation. He had never been afraid of Crowley in all the millennia they had known each other but now he knelt here on the living room floor scared that the demon who loved him just might attempt to maul him. What was causing this? What brought on this transformation? This wasn’t simply happenstance. Demons did not all of a sudden turn into mindless creatures like this. There had to be something.

He let out a squawk as Crowley lunged for him, clawed hand wrapping around his throat as Aziraphale tried not to tremble. Crowley would never hurt him. He would be okay if he could talk him down and get to the true personality hidden beneath this monstrous exterior. Opening eyes squeezed shut in fear, Aziraphale searched Crowley’s angry face for any sign that he recognized him but saw nothing. His heart beat faster with the panic spreading throughout his body.

Stay calm because he’s in there somewhere. It’s like he’s suffering from the effects of demonsbane. You need to keep him calm, find it and get it out of the flat.

Demonsbane was a plant developed by Hell in an attempt to come up with a substance that would make demons stronger in anticipation of the final war between Heaven and Hell. Aziraphale supposed that they had tried to develop the infernal equivalent of the steroids humans used to illegally enhance their own physical performance. Unfortunately, Hell had failed on an epic level, never coming up with anything safe, only that plant, whose pollen transformed demons into their most monstrous selves causing their real personalities to retreat into their minds, leaving them unable to even follow simple orders. The whole project was eventually abandoned and remained top secret information. Aziraphale only knew about it from Crowley, who only came across it snooping through files he had no business looking at while bored one day in Hell. Neither of them knew what the plant even looked like.

“I’m your angel, Crowley. We’re on our own side, remember? You don’t want to hurt me.”

“I have no angel.” The words were harsh, but the grip on Aziraphale’s neck relaxed.

“I’m Aziraphale. We met in the Garden of Eden. You need to let go of me because I am your friend. I need to leave. I can’t stay here.” He had a couple of books liberated from Hell’s library by Crowley, who did what he could to keep his angel safe. Maybe there was information in there on how to turn the demon back into himself.

“NO!” Crowley let go of him to lash out, swiping across the decorative table by the door and knocking it to the floor where the vase set on it shattered. “I’m not letting an angel escape.”

He grabbed Aziraphale’s arm and with a rough grasp, pulled him to the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him and shoving Aziraphale into the chair by the window, the angel cowering there as he tried to figure out his next move. Crowley roamed the room like he had never seen it before, despite being a place he spent quite a bit of time. Aziraphale’s heart jumped as Crowley came upon the bed where he fingered the cuffs and collar laid out there. Picking up the collar, he examined it closely, running his clawed fingers over its surface, hooking one sharp nail through the ring on the front.

“That’s yours. Sometimes you wear it.”

“Mine? I am not an animal. What do you do to me, angel?”

“Nothing you don’t want to do, Crowley. I would never hurt you. Would you hurt me?”

“Angels are the enemy.”

Crowley’s hand was raised to strike and Aziraphale winced in response, eyes shut against the blow he expected, but it never came. The clawed hand was lowered and for the first time, Crowley’s eyes looked like they contained a hint of recognition. Aziraphale tried an encouraging smile, wishing he could bolt out that door and find the plant before Crowley hunted him down. Instead, he was stuck here as his captive until he could regain his trust. There was a war going on inside Crowley and Aziraphale could see it. Were they far enough from the source of the pollen that Crowley would start to become himself again?

He looked down, fingering the leather of the collar in almost a gentle way. “This is mine?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“It reminds you of what you are to me. You are my demon. I love you. You love me. And you love doing little things for me.”

“Collars mean lower ranking. You’re above me?”

“No. You allow me to be in control, but that does not make you less than me. We are of equal worth.”

“I have bosses. I don’t need to listen to an angel.”

“You’re on your own side, Crowley. With me. Remember?”

“I don’t listen to angels,” he insisted, showing agitation through tense body movements that were the prelude to him lashing out again.

Aziraphale abandoned that line of reasoning. It was only going to end badly. He had to cut Crowley off from the pollen, he thought, putting some brainpower into figuring out where this plant was and how to combat it from here where he was trapped until Crowley agreed to let him go. Then it came to him. The air vents! Of course! With a discreet miracle, he cut off the room from them and shielded the gaps around the door. They were now hermetically sealed away from the rest of the flat; no air would get in or out unless Aziraphale removed the miracle or the door was opened. All he needed to do now was get the window open to circulate the pollinated air out and the fresh outdoor air in. He prayed this would work.

“You’re bound to me, Crowley,” he said boldly, grabbing on to a line of thought he hoped would lead to the demon seeing at least the smallest sliver of reason.

Flying over, Crowley was in his face, those sharp fangs dangerously close to him and looking as though they would latch on to any available part of him with only the thinnest provocation. He didn’t think angels could actually hyperventilate, but right now he felt his lungs attempting to do just that. Instead, he stopped his breathing and smiled in the face of a potential mauling. He could feel the beads of sweat start to roll down his temples, dampening his blond curls.

“Can I at least open the window? It’s rather hot in here. Then I will tell you how you are bound to me.”

“Stay,” commanded Crowley as he stalked to the window to yank it open.

Cool air flooded the room, circulating out the warmer air trapped inside and hopefully taking the pollen with it. Aziraphale nervously watched Crowley, who huffed before returning to him. The demon sat at his feet, looking more curious now than angry. Aziraphale reached out to stroke his red locks only to have Crowley growl at him with a snap of sharp teeth. He apologized, sky blue eyes on the collar Crowley still clutched as if some memories were returning to his addled mind.

“Here, look at your chest on the left side. See that silver mark? I made that on you and it’s a mark that only happens when two beings love each other,” he started to slowly unbutton his own shirt, pulling the left side back to reveal a similar mark on his own chest above his nipple, only his mark looked as though someone had painted liquid gold on him rather than silver, the metallic nature of it sparkling in the lamplight. “Two days later, you gave me this because they always come in pairs. They happen between beings who love each other.”

“I don’t love an angel.”

But Crowley was stroking his mark while he looked upon Aziraphale’s as the beastly resolve inside him began to show cracks. He blinked and for a fraction of a second, Aziraphale saw sclera again. His breath hitched, restarting the lungs he had quit using earlier. Breathing . . . that was it . . . he had to get Crowley to quit breathing while there was still pollen in the air. Risking another miracle, he filled the room with the worst logical scent that would waft in from the window — the smell of chemicals the human’s cars released into the air along with overtones of industrial waste. It was enough to make him almost gag, and he belatedly thought that Crowley would slam the window closed, preventing the rest of the pollen in the room to filter out, but that would hardly matter if he wasn’t breathing it in.

“You do and I love you back. I think you know it, too, deep down inside.”

“NO!” Crowley stood up, walking away from him as he wrinkled his nose. “Gah! What’s that smell?”

“Part of living in a city, Crowley. Remember? We’ve lived here centuries. Hold your breath and you won’t smell it.”

Then it hit Aziraphale like a goods train.

Oh, my lord, the flowers! It’s the flowers!

Crowley had found himself being wooed by a real estate agent who claimed she had someone willing to buy his penthouse flat despite his attempts to rebuff her. She had gone as far as to send a bouquet of flowers, some of which Crowley hadn’t been able to identify when they arrived three days ago. Since he had only been in and out of the flat to fetch items because he was staying with Aziraphale at the bookshop for a few days. He hadn’t been overly exposed to the pollen. No wonder his memory was going. He was feeling minor effects. The major ones only came when they migrated here to make use of Crowley’s large bedroom, and he breathed in enough pollen to cause the change. Aziraphale about sobbed in relief as he miracled the vase of flowers on the coffee table in the living room into a sealed plastic bag and used another one to turn on the flat’s expensive filtration system that he had completely forgotten about.

“You’re up to something,” hissed Crowley, but he sounded unconvincing despite the menacing tones.

“No, I’m not. Come sit by me and you’ll see I’m just here waiting for you to decide what to do next.”

Crowley turned hesitantly to regard him and Aziraphale was convinced his horns were ever-so-slightly smaller. The demon took halting steps towards him, but still approached Aziraphale’s chair, sitting again on the floor beside him. His manner was stiff and unfriendly at first, but Aziraphale dared to put out a hand and touch his hair with a gentle stroke and Crowley did not recoil or threaten him. Beneath his hand, he could feel the horns becoming smaller, retreating back to into Crowley’s skull much to Aziraphale’s tentative delight. Soon, Crowley buried his face in Aziraphale’s soft velvet waistcoat.

“I want my collar on, angel. Please?”

“Welcome back, my love. You had me so worried. Please, don’t breathe. Whatever you do, don’t breathe. I’m going to miracle us back to the bookshop, all right? We need to get you in the shower, scrub the pollen off of you and I’ll explain everything.”

Aziraphale insisted Crowley spend the rest of the week at the bookshop while he took care of cleaning every last bit of pollen out of Crowley’s flat. Feeling guilty for his behaviour despite Aziraphale's gentle assurances it wasn’t his fault, Crowley upped his acts of service, doting even more on his angel. Although Aziraphale had to admit it was nice having his demon shower him with such love and affection, especially when it meant he spent quite a bit of time showing off that glorious body of his wearing nothing but a collar.

Yet he did keep his thoughts about wanting to keep Crowley hidden away here in the bookshop until he could figure out what was going on to himself. He had the sinking feeling Heaven, Hell or both were after them again.

Chapter 4: Dancing

Chapter Text

Aziraphale looked at the building, then at his notes before he entered, making sure the address was correct. He had managed to get away from the bookshop without Crowley offering to drive him by slipping out while he was sleeping peacefully, safe in the bedroom of the bookshop flat. With any luck, Aziraphale wore him out enough that he would not awaken before he returned from this important errand. He didn’t want Crowley involved in the detective work he was doing. Crowley had spent thousands of years protecting him; it was time to return that favour.

He stepped inside where a young receptionist sat behind her desk speaking to someone on the phone. She smiled at him and with a gesture indicated she’d be with him in just a moment. He nodded kindly in reply and took a seat on one of the many chairs lined against the front windows. She was just a minute before she hung up the phone and turned her attention to him, eyeing his bowtie and frock coat with a strange look, but Aziraphale was used to that by now. He was well aware of how dated his fashion choices were, but that no longer was a cause of concern for him.

“How can I help you, sir?” she asked in an upbeat tone.

Aziraphale dug the business card he was carrying out of his pocket and glanced over it. “I’m wondering if . . . Connie . . . is in today?”

“Oh, yes. I’ll see if she’s free. Just a moment.” She was back on the phone, paging the real estate agent in her office. “. . . yes, I’ll send him right back.”

“She’s free and can see you. Second door on your right, sir.”

“Thank you very much.”

He headed back, a little rattled by the informal nature of the office here. Normally the receptionist would escort someone back or the person in the office would come out to get them. Coming up to the correct door, he found it open and gave a little knock. The dark-haired older woman at the desk inside looked up with a welcoming smile.

“Hello. I remember you. Mr Crowley’s boyfriend, right?”

“Yes, that’s me. Ezra Fell. Nice to see you again.”

“Does this mean you two are ready to sell that lovely flat? I could get you a good price on it and find you something even grander within the greater London area. Please, sit.”

He awkwardly sat on the edge of the chair, feeling out of place here. “No, thank you. We like the flat very much. I was just wondering about this property.” He pulled out his decoy reason for being here, a listing of a commercial building that was already sold. He had to have a reason for being here. Looking to buy another bookshop was good cover, wasn’t it? “I run a bookshop and I’m thinking of expanding. This location caught my eye and since I had your card, I thought I’d check with you.”

She looked over the building and murmured some apologies. “Yes, we did have that one listed, but it sold last week. Do you have any others in mind? Or I could keep an eye out for properties if you’d like. Just tell me what you’re looking for.”

“Oh. Well, that’s too bad. I can keep an eye out myself. I have a pretty good idea what I’m looking for.” He paused for a beat before stating the question that brought him here in the first place. “By the way, the flowers you sent were very lovely. Where did you get them? Anthony so enjoyed their colours and I’d love to get him another bouquet.”

“I’m glad he liked them. They’re from a little shop over in Covent Garden. Here, let me look up the address.” She pulled out her mobile and tapped on it before pulling a small pad of paper to her and writing down an address for them. “Here you go. They were very wonderful to deal with and reasonably priced as well.”

He thanked her and headed out, telling her he’d consider her for his real estate needs when he came across the perfect property for his bookshop expansion. She seemed innocent enough, and he felt someone had used her to get to Crowley. On to the flower shop, then. He’d just have to untangle this mystery one thread at a time until he found the person behind this whole scheme. He flagged down a taxi and gave the driver the shop’s address.

Arriving there, he found only an empty shopfront, confirming his suspicions that their former sides were involved in this. Well, he would keep working on this. They were not going to get away with this kind of harassment. Having given the driver something extra with the promise of more if he waited, he headed back to the taxi and told him to head to the bookshop, thinking the entire trip about what his next move ought to be.

Paying the driver double what he owed, he headed inside and upstairs to find Crowley in the kitchen attempting to cook himself some eggs while dressed in nothing but boxers and his collar. He wore it near constantly in private and Aziraphale wondered if it had become a source of comfort in a way after the incident at Crowley’s flat the other day. Crowley had spoken that he had feared he would completely lose himself in monster form, although Aziraphale had assured him that would not happen. Still, the angel wasn’t going to complain if he chose to wear the symbol of their dynamic more regularly. It was quite nice to see him in it, and he was proud to be Crowley’s dom.

Grabbing him by it, he gently guided the demon in for a kiss while discreetly miracling the cooking eggs less burned. Letting Crowley go, he pointed to the pan.

“Um, I think you need to watch those, my dear. We can talk later.”

“Oh. Yeah. Well, I was never one for cooking, but I felt like trying this morning.” Looking down at the eggs, Crowley attempted to flip them only to make a mess by breaking the yolks and spreading the half-cooked whites all over the pan. “Well, that didn’t work.”

Everything vanished from the cooker and two plates of conjured-up eggs, perfectly done, appeared on the table with tea for Aziraphale and coffee for Crowley. He gestured to Aziraphale to have a seat, and he did, smiling up at him in gratitude, even if the food was the result of miracles. It was the thought that counted, wasn’t it? Plus it saved Aziraphale from having to head out to the coffee shop next door for some vanilla chai and pastries. He did not enjoy having to wait in lines and felt it was quite the test of patience to stand for ten minutes or longer waiting to simply place his order. Sometimes he wondered if Crowley had had a hand in inventing such an aggravating activity.

“Thank you, my dear. You do look ravishing today. I always did love you in boxers and not much else.”

“You like me in a lot less,” replied Crowley, unashamed.

As they ate, Aziraphale took the time to catch Crowley up on his investigations. “They have a hand in this, one side or the other. Flower shops simply don’t disappear overnight like that.”

“They do. There’s no doubt about that, but since yet another scheme failed, we’ll have breathing space again. Try not to worry too much about it, ok?”

“I know, but they almost got you to harm me. I can’t imagine how that would have weighed on you, my love.”

“But they didn’t. Something inside that form of mine was unable to cause you harm. Even it recognized you as important. Don’t focus on that or I’m going to have to do something about it.”

“Like what?” Aziraphale put the last bite of eggs in his mouth and stared seductively at Crowley, a hint of a smile crossing his lips.

“I’d think of something,” Crowley replied.

He rose to clear the dishes, miracling them washed, dried and put away before heading to the bedroom. The door closed behind him and Aziraphale took that as a signal to stay out of now as he had a feeling Crowley was actually thinking up something. A little sexy creativity was not something to be discouraged, especially when it was very likely it would benefit him. He relaxed at the kitchen table sipping his second cuppa while Crowley was doing whatever it was Crowley was doing. The paper had been tossed on the table as well, forgotten off on a corner of it while they ate and conversed. Aziraphale unfolded it and started to read today’s news followed by the crossword. He was about halfway through when he heard the click of heels on the hardwood floors. He turned in his chair to see what was up.

Crowley was back, only this time she was female presenting and wearing a black bustier with a lacy under things, fishnet stockings and the highest stilettos possible without going into the ridiculously high-heeled platform fetish shoes one could not conceivably walk in without risking breaking an ankle. Aziraphale swallowed down a lump.

“Oh, my.”

“You like?” She brushed long, loosely curled hair out of her face as she smiled seductively at him, her lips a perfect shade of red for her hair colour.

“Yeh . . . yes, I like it very much.

“If sir would like a lap dance, I suggest he go sit down on a chair in the living room.” That long tongue poked out, licking along her bottom lip before disappearing again as Aziraphale watched with his mouth agape.

He settled himself in the suggested chair as slow, sensual music started to play. Crowley leaned over him, long legs straddling his lap, breasts down at eye level, jiggling slightly in the bustier while she raised her arse in the air, giving him a wonderful view of her lithe body. He reached up to stroke her, but she gently pushed his hand down again, telling him to stay still and allow her to work. He nodded, feeling unable to vocally agree after getting a sneak peek at the wanton display she was evidently going to put on. Crowley winked at him knowingly before shifting again, pushing her breasts closer and closer to his face without allowing him to touch before giving him some relief by rubbing them along his chest, hands against his shoulders for support. Teasing him further, she dragged them over his face as she stood up then seated herself in his lap where she gyrated her hips, grinding them against his lap in a motion that energized him. He responded by placing his hands on her hips, rubbing them up and down over the satin of her lingerie, fingering the lace on the edges, then trailing down to her fishnets that felt so foreign to his sense of touch. She had never worn such an item before.

“That’s it, angel, enjoy it.” She licked at his nose, her hand toying with the curls by his ear as she moved, feeling the response in him with a chuckle.

She squatted down between his legs, miming a blow j*b as she ran her hands over his thighs and shins, making eye contact the entire time. Her tongue flicked out one last time before she stood up and turned around, bending over so Aziraphale could get a good long look at her nearly uncovered arse in those tiny black knickers. She ran her hands over her cheeks, massaging them slowly in time with the music as she showed off her assets. He reached out to touch, running excited fingers over her from the small of her back to the tops of her thighs as she pushed herself into a standing position and swung her hips around one last time before turning to face him once again.

Unable to take it, he pulled her on to his lap, vanishing everything she was wearing but her heels and fishnets, his fingers seeking out what she had between her legs. He found a warm wet slit there and pushed up into it, causing her to gasp. Aziraphale curled his finger upwards towards her public bone, hooking around it to seek out the one spot that gave her strong org*sms. Finding it, he rubbed up inside her until she was clutching at his shoulders, shaking with her wetness damp upon his trousers. He smiled to see her in such a state, knowing he was the one to bring her to it.

“Come for me, Crowley.”

And she did, loudly with her head thrown back, all that beautiful red hair thrown over her shoulders to cascade down her shoulder blades. She shuddered with the org*sm until he relented in his rubbing, allowing her to catch her breath before he helped her to the floor onto her stomach and was soon over her, everything from the waist down gone. She felt his waistcoat’s velvet touch on her back as he entered her, his hands wandering around to the front to pinch her nipples, rubbing them after sending a shock of pain through them only to repeat the action on occasion as he thrust within her wetness. His breath was at her ear as he spoke to her.

“Who owns you?”

“You do,” she gasped out, wiggling beneath him as he took her for his own pleasure.

“Yes, I do. I love you, my dear. I love what we have.”

He kissed along her neck, listening to her moan as he thrust hard in her, knowing he wasn’t going to last long and not caring. Squeezing her breasts between his fingers, he kneaded them before moving back to her nipples, feeling his own need to come rise insistently. She knew it. She always knew it, and she reacted like a brat, rubbing her arse against him as she rocked her hips in time to his thrusts. He felt it grow, build past where he could stop it by slowing down or pulling out momentarily and slammed into her. If she was going to act up, then she deserved a little soreness, although it wasn’t as if she couldn’t immediately heal it. Maybe he would tell her she couldn’t if she started complaining about how he thrust into too hard. He cried out as he pinched her nipples one last time, hearing her come along with him, high on the pain.

They lay on the rugs thrown down over the hardwood floor a moment until Aziraphale became uncomfortable. Getting up he helped Crowley to her feet, taking her back to the bedroom where he pointed her to the bed. She sat on it, and he knelt before her, throwing her shoes aside as he took them off before peeling one thigh-high off after the other, leaving her wearing nothing. He stood up, holding a light chain that made her co*ck a fine eyebrow at him. She reached over to run a finger down its long length.

“What do you plan on doing with that, sir?”

“I want to tie you to the bed with chains like this tomorrow and have my way with you. But since we haven’t negotiated it, I thought it prudent to discuss it before we did it.”

“I’d enjoy it. Let’s plan on it. So, shall I put on some more sexy lingerie or what?”

“No. And keep the form until I tell you that you can switch,” said Aziraphale cuddled close to give her loving kisses before they laid down for a bit of aftercare. “I appreciate you just like that.”

Chapter 5: Lesson Learned

Chapter Text

About three weeks had passed since Aziraphale had started his investigations into the origins of the demonsbane plant, and he was irritated that he had hit a brick wall he could not get around. He sat at his desk scribbling down notes, muttering as he flipped through the notes he had previously taken, including everything that transpired at the real estate office and the empty shopfront — previously a flower shop that existed for nefarious reasons. Nothing was making sense. He leaned forward to rub his temples with his fingers, his eyes closed behind his old-fashioned silver reading glasses.

“This is getting nowhere.”

“How well I know,” replied a voice from around his knees. “I may be submissive for you, angel, but I’m not a doormat and my patience is wearing thin.”

“Oh! Crowley! I’m sorry, my dear. Come here.” Aziraphale patted his lap, which Crowley gladly climbed into, curling up so only his lower legs spilt over the arm of the chair. His head rested on Aziraphale’s shoulder, and he sighed as he was doted on with kisses and strokes of his red hair. “What do you need?”

“Attention.” He rolled over on his back, his hand wandering down to close itself around his co*ck. “More like this needs some attention.”

Aziraphale slapped his hand away. “Did I say you could play with yourself?”

“No, but I have needs.” The smile that crossed Crowley’s face was a sly one that screamed he was up to something.

“Wanton creature.”

“You like me that way.”

“All right.” Aziraphale wrapped his own fingers around Crowley’s member, stroking it softly. “Maybe I should take care of those needs, my poor demon.”

He carefully pumped up and down, pushing and pulling Crowley’s foreskin along the shaft, adding a layer of erotic texture to the hand job, while Crowley moaned with half-closed eyes and fingers that petted Aziraphale’s shoulder in appreciation. His hips moved in time with Aziraphale’s hand, gyrating up and down as his back arched itself in his attempt to encourage the angel to go faster. Much to Crowley’s annoyance, he didn’t, staying at the same infuriating rate that kept Crowley in the mood, but didn’t allow for any further escalation. He watched a bead of liquid form on his own co*ck, knowing it was not going to go any further than that if Aziraphale went at this lazy pace he had set. Crowley had to wonder if he was doing it deliberately to teach him a lesson that Crowley was determined not to learn.

“Why are you torturing me?” The sentence was uttered as the drawn-out whine of an upset demon who was more used to getting his way than he was lately.

Crowley was figuring out there were some drawbacks to playing the submissive role and the lack of instant gratification at times was one of them. Aziraphale co*cked an eyebrow at him, a hint of a smile on his lips. His hand disappeared from Crowley’s co*ck completely, causing an angry protest to erupt from the demon’s lips. To say Aziraphale was not amused by such an outburst would be an understatement. Angry, Aziraphale ordered Crowley off his lap and back on his pillow on the floor where he knelt looking contrite, but Aziraphale was not going to buy it. Crowley was very good at manipulating others to do as he wished and what he wished right now was for his co*ck to be played with to his satisfaction.

“No,” stated Aziraphale firmly. “You don’t get to make those kinds of decisions in this dynamic. Now you can quit being a brat.”

“Please, angel?”

“Go get your cuffs and gag.”

Crowley froze. Aziraphale had recently introduced a ball gag that he only tolerated, but did not like one bit. It was uncomfortable, although not painful, and he hated how he drooled in it. He turned to the angel, pleading silently but Aziraphale was not to be swayed. He had returned to his paperwork for now, ignoring any signs from Crowley that he wished not to bring that dreaded gag to his angel. Finally, he heard him sigh, followed by the sound of his bare feet padding up the stairs. He would come back with what Aziraphale had requested, kneeling again on his pillow with the objects laid out before him. Out of the corner of his eye, Aziraphale saw Crowley place cuffs and gag between them, but he allowed him a moment to cool his heels as he finished jotting a thought on paper.

“There. I think that’s the best I can come up with on that subject.” He closed the notebook, putting his fountain pen aside. “Now . . . where were we? Oh, yes. Dealing with one incorrigible demon.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Crowley mumbled, head bowed in mock humility.

“It’s a little late for that. Stand up.”

Crowley obeyed, unfolding his legs and getting to his feet. Aziraphale spun him around, grabbed one arm after the other to buckle the black leather cuffs on before using the clip attached to one of them to hook Crowley’s hands behind his back, leaving him helpless. A tap on the shoulder told Crowley to turn back around to face him, his serpentine eyes sliding down to the black ballgag dangling between Aziraphale’s fingers.

“Please? Not this time. I’ll be good. And quiet. Not a peep out of me. Promise.”

“You need to learn, Crowley. If you want this kind of dynamic, then you need to listen and do as asked. Now open up.”

Properly cuffed and gagged, Crowley was left on his pillow for now as Aziraphale took the time to reshelve some items he had brought to his office, devoured in a night or two of indulgent reading with a glass or two — probably more — of wine then set aside on the coffee table to be forgotten until he laid eyes on them again, thinking he should take the time to put them back on the shelves. It was a vicious cycle with him and the pile had grown to the point he could no longer see Crowley if he sat on the couch while Aziraphale was at his desk. This was as good a time as any to get some work done and allow Crowley some time to think about his behaviour. He still had not learned how to accept orders he didn’t like. Aziraphale had the sneaking suspicion that this was going to be a hard lesson to properly absorb.

Crowley rocked on his pillow trying his best not to drool on his own chest, eyes down instead of following Aziraphale around the room as that annoyed the angel. If Crowley was being disciplined, he was not allowed to do that. He was allowed to look straight ahead or down, his choice. He had been sitting for five minutes, but to him, it had felt like an eternity already. Another drip of spit hit his chest, running down to leave a cool trail behind it. Oh, if only Aziraphale would hurry up. He shifted slightly, taking his weight off of one leg that was threatening to fall asleep.

“You never do sit still, do you?” Crowley about jumped out of his skin to hear Aziraphale’s voice next to him, whispering softly in his ear.

A hand reached around to wrap around his co*ck, teasing him, pulling and pushing slowly like before while Crowley moaned in both impatience and desire. Nothing felt better than his angel pleasuring him, even if that pleasure came with a cost. It was a hard position to thrust up in, but Crowley canted his hips in a manner that made it possible, taking full advantage of his whip-thin body that bent in ways most human ones didn’t. Aziraphale removed his hand to deliver a stinging smack to his thigh; Crowley gave a muffled cry.

“No, you get to come when I say so and you’re not going to do something to aid in it. Oh, dear. My knees are aching. I really need to stand up again and walk around a bit. My body isn’t what it used to be.”

Crowley glared at him for that comment. It had been a mere two and a half years since the Antichrist had replaced the body Aziraphale had lost when he had been backed into his own transportation portal. Meanwhile, Crowley, with his six-thousand-year-old-plus corporation, knelt uncomfortably with only a pillow between him and the hardwood floor and arms pulled back to rest bound on the top of his skinny arse. It was probably a boon he was gagged because the words forming behind the ball that kept him from speaking anything intelligible would have landed him in further trouble than he already was. Still feeling defiant, he tried to thrust his tongue out from under it enough to swallow the over-abundance of saliva he felt forming before it once again dribbled out on to his chin.

And so it went, teasing until he was ready to come then removal of the stimulation until Crowley was about ready to unravel.

“You poor thing,” Aziraphale said. “I really ought to give you release.”

He snapped his fingers, and they were upstairs, Crowley face-down on the bed, hands behind him, arse sticking out invitingly in the air. The gag was gone, even if the cuffs remained. The demon felt Aziraphale slip a finger inside followed by a second, both delving in, searching for the raised firm spot that doubled the pleasure in order to rub the demon to greater ecstasy. Crowley felt Aziraphale start, a tingling sensation spreading throughout him as he squirmed, fighting against his bonds involuntarily, panting as he begged for more. And it was gone, leaving him bereft of any sexual sensation and begging Aziraphale to continue. He groaned as he felt Aziraphale start to play with him again, waves of frustrating pleasure flowing out from the area as he bucked against them, wanting for it all to finally culminate into something more than a tease. Sweat was rolling off his sides now, his body screaming in protest of Aziraphale’s cruel play.

“I can’t, angel . . . I can’t . . . please.”

“It’s the only you’re going to get for the next twenty-four hours. Are you ready?”

“Yes, please, Aziraphale . . . I can’t go on . . . I don’t care if it’s the only one I get for a week.”

Fingers were removed to be replaced by something bigger, more satisfying. He felt Aziraphale’s soft cotton button-up shirt on his back, his breath on the nape of his neck, his hand gripping Crowley’s shoulder to hold him in place. Crowley did not last; could not last. His overstimulated mind and body let go, turning him into a screaming mass of satisfied desire, a sobbing pile of spent demon whose tears wet the faded quilt he knelt upon. His hands were freed then he felt himself being pulled into his angel’s arms where Aziraphale held him tight and kissed him before placing his forehead against Crowley’s as he spoke softly to him, filling his ears with the warming praise he so desired since his very creation and only ever received from Aziraphale.

“You did so well. That was hard and I’m beginning to think I was a bit beastly for putting you through that, my beautiful demon. I love you so much and I love that you allow me to do this to you. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. Oh, my darling. Rest now. Let’s get you under the covers and later we’ll go get some dinner. Whatever you want. I won’t argue with you over it.”

He tucked Crowley under the blankets after lovingly wiping away the sweat and vanishing the mess. Crowley reached out, not wanting to be left alone, silently asking for Aziraphale to stay and cuddle with him. Settling in beside him, Aziraphale pulled Crowley close, placing a kiss on his forehead.

“Silly demon, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay with you as long as you need me to.”

“I love you, angel.”

“I love you, too, Crowley.”

“After that performance, I think you owe me dinner. You’re buying tonight, right?” Crowley murmured as he wrapped himself securely around Aziraphale, letting the angel know he was not going anywhere any time soon if Crowley had anything to say about it.

Aziraphale laughed. “Of course I’ll buy. Anything for you, my love.”

“Maybe I’ll give you a nice blow j*b in the morning.”

“Oh? Is that for you to decide?”

“Well, between this and dinner, I’m going to be worn out. I might not wake up tomorrow until the afternoon.”

“You wily serpent, you.”

Aziraphale snuggled in to make sure Crowley received all the aftercare he needed. The mystery of the demonsbane still hung over his head, but it could wait. Right now, everything could wait. All that mattered at this moment was Crowley, who was slowly falling asleep in his arms.

Chapter 6: Sometimes Plans Change

Chapter Text

Crowley was off making his own investigations into the attempt to turn him against Aziraphale, parking the Bentley on the outskirts of London to wait for his informant to arrive. Rolling down the window, he allowed the cold breeze to blow in enough to cool the overly warm interior before shutting it again against the winter chill. Mozart played on the Blaupunkt, a concerto to soothe Crowley’s case of nerves. He shouldn’t be out here meeting with demons. He was no longer part of that crowd and his actions could be putting him in danger. But he came prepared with a small vial of holy water sealed away in a plastic bag to prevent him from falling victim to any accidents. It sat right now in the glove compartment where its mere presence made him very uneasy. How he wished he truly was immune from the stuff, but he doubted the Almighty would grant that wish. So far, She had failed to grant any other he had ever had, or had even answered his questions millennia ago when he was an angel. She had smiled a knowing smile and walked on.

Best not to worry about that now. He had spent sleepless nights wondering if he Fell for a reason, that reason being to lose the Antichrist so everything would turn out just fine. It’s not like he did anything but ask questions, and he wasn’t the most evil being in the universe. He had a good side and bad side like everyone else and . . . and he was babbling in his own mind again for lack of anything better to do with himself as he scanned the area for the familiar rising dirt that indicated a demon had grabbed a lift to the surface. Lucky bastards. He had had to burrow up in snake form.

Ah. There. His contact had arrived and was busy brushing dried leaves out of the strange horns his hair formed on top of his head. It was that one demon who wanted to punch him in Heaven but had retreated with his tail between his legs after Crowley stared him down while wearing Aziraphale’s face. He smirked to himself, still proud of that moment.

Crowley casually exited the Bentley, vial of holy water in his jacket pocket, ready to use. Although this junior demon was unlikely to attempt much and really was another example of a demon who just did his job rather than revel in the evil some of them did — Hastur came to mind.

“What can you tell me?” asked Crowley, skipping the pleasantries altogether. They were demons and such small talk was not a requirement.

The demon shrugged. “Not much. Hell doesn’t keep any demonsbane around because it’s too dangerous. Here, I snagged and copied some documents on that for you.”

He looked around nervously before pulling a file out of his tattered black jacket to hand to Crowley. Crowley snatched up the folder and opened it to skim the papers within. They looked legitimate for the quick perusal he gave them. He pulled a doll out of the bubble dimension he was keeping it in and dangled it in front of the demon, who all but drooled to see it. Crowley found the look of longing in his eyes to be both pathetic and disgusting, but he had no love for his species and even less for this one, who had expressed interest in hitting his angel. But he was a useful stooge all the same, willing to give Crowley what he wanted for a small price and too stupid to consider he could play double-agent, having the big boys up here to capture Crowley if he had bothered to tell anyone Crowley had contacted him.

“I stole that doll from a child dying in the hospital. It should be good and full of residual misery and despair. And you can tell everyone else how you took it yourself. Enjoy.”

It was a blatant lie. Crowley had shoplifted it from a charity shop Aziraphale wanted to peruse because he heard they sometimes received rare books. But it was the thought that counted. If the demon was convinced it was full of the memories of misery Crowley spoke of, he’d feel the vibes off of it like a placebo effect. He had wanted an item full of the stored misery of a human being and Crowley provided. Sort of.

“Thank you,” the junior demon said. “It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

He scurried off to a safe place to sink back into the ground with his new treasure. Crowley merely shook his head before climbing back in the Bentley to return to the bookshop. Aziraphale was still very uneasy about spending much time at his flat after the events of the last month, even though the angel had personally scrubbed the entire place of any hint of demonsbane pollen. In fact, he had stated he’d rather not Crowley spend too much time there, even though no changes had occurred once Aziraphale cleaned the place and Crowley had re-entered for the first time. Although, Crowley could not blame him. It had to have been traumatic to be held captive by the one you loved. Crowley wished as he drove away that it had never happened, but what had occurred had been entirely out of his control and he used that to soothe his guilt when it rose to the surface with regard to the incident.

He parked the Bentley in front of the bookshop, the double yellow lines rolling back upon themselves as he got out. No space Crowley wished to park his Bentley in was ever off-limits. Locking the doors with a wave, he entered the bookshop, craning his neck to see where Aziraphale was. From the shuffling sounds he heard coming from the far corners of the store, it appeared he was among his shelves, rearranging once more in a vain attempt to fit even more volumes in.

“Angel?”

“How did you find me, foul fiend? This bookshop is covered in spells to keep demons away.”

Crowley smiled. That was his cue that Aziraphale had decided now was the time to do the stranger roleplay he had begged to do for months now. Clearing his throat, he concealed his excitement and got himself into his role as discussed. As of now, he and Aziraphale didn’t know each other.

“You go to get a latte every day, Principality. It makes you rather easy to trace.” He walked towards Aziraphale, trying his best to be menacing. “Come quietly and I’ll make sure you aren’t tortured too much.”

“I don’t think so.” Aziraphale pointed an extremely sorry excuse for a sword at him that looked like it had been purchased third or fourth-hand after it had spent years rusting away in a rundown castle in the north. He managed to ignite it. “I think it is you I’ll be capturing.”

“Oh, really?” Crowley raised an eyebrow. “Not worth it. Not like I’m a bad demon. I pull minor pranks rather than . . . oh . . . corrupt priests. There are bigger fish to catch than me.”

“Really? I don’t buy it.”

“It’s my fault the traffic on the M25 is literally hell. Welsh language TV . . . another one of my ideas. I’ve taken out mobile services to the London area several times now. Tarnishes a lot of souls at once. True, it’s not much tarnish, but with the human population the way it is, you got to go for quantity over quality.”

“That’s insane.”

Crowley shrugged. “It keeps Hell of my back.”

Aziraphale was close to him now, the sword extinguished. Instead, he pulled out a knife, throwing the old sword away. It was at Crowley’s throat. “Maybe I could have some fun with a demon like you.”

Crowley licked his lips. “Maybe you could.”

The knife pushed into his flesh. It wasn’t sharp, but it was good enough for their roleplay. Crowley put his hands up with a smirk, deciding this side of Aziraphale was delicious. He stepped back, surreptitiously making sure there was a wall behind him that Aziraphale could herd him into. There. Now he was cornered with no place to go except through the angel with a knife pointed at his neck. This was getting good and he found it hard to not break into excited laughter that would ruin the whole scene.

“Strip. Take off everything you are wearing.”

“What?”

“You are beautiful, demon, and I want you. Now we can do this the easy way or the hard way. I do not believe you will like the hard way.”

Crowley undressed with a snap, standing in front of Aziraphale wearing nothing but a slight grin and suddenly feeling rather cold. “Now what? Did you ever think I just might be an incubus and the feelings you are experiencing are the result of my aura? I’d want you to take me. It would give me great pleasure to cause such a stain on the soul of an angel.”

“I do not care.”

Crowley was being dragged up the stairs into Aziraphale’s bedroom and practically tossed on the bed, the angel over him, taking his head in his hands and kissing him passionately. His tongue poked insistently into his mouth, licking at him, tasting him. Crowley closed his eyes with a moan and allowed it to happen, his hands reaching out to touch Aziraphale, daring to pull loose the tartan bowtie around his neck and finding that Aziraphale was not going to lift a finger to stop him. Getting bold, he reached for his shirt, undoing the top button of his shirt before pausing to see if his partner objected. Aziraphale merely looked at him with lust-filled blue eyes and allowed Crowley to slowly undress him. Crowley peeled his shirt off, followed by his trousers, removing piece of clothing after piece of clothing (and glad he wasn’t currently wearing his usual cardigan and waistcoat) until Aziraphale was completely exposed. Crowley’s gaze flicked down to his member, smiling while Aziraphale co*cked an interested eyebrow.

“You do want me, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“An angel who wants a demon. You could Fall for this.”

“Doubtful. There are those in Heaven who do worse than I.”

Crowley pounced on him, knocking him to the bed before he climbed on top of Aziraphale to kiss him passionately. He began on his mouth, worshipping the full lips of his beautiful angel before being drawn down to his love mark. Gazing at it, Crowley stroked it in a rather reverential way, Aziraphale near purring in response and Crowley found his own mark being touched in a way that made him look to the heavens and let out the most musical sound he had ever made in his life. Aziraphale yanked his hand back, eyes wide in shock.

“What was that?”

“A sound of pure enjoyment. Don’t worry about it, angel.”

“Your wings are out.”

“What?” Crowley turned, encountering a wall of black feathers over his left shoulder. “Huh, I didn’t even feel that.”

Aziraphale laughed as he reached up to pet them, running his hands through Crowley’s glossy coverts while the demon closed his eyes in contentment, all excitement over the stranger roleplay gone. “This didn’t work out as we planned.”

“No. We homed in on each other’s love marks and that was that. It’s hard to pretend to be total strangers when those exist on you. So, now what? Shall I just mount you and ride away until we’re both satisfied?”

“That would be lovely. I’ll let you off the hook tonight. We don’t always have to fall into the strict dom/sub dynamic.”

So with wings wrapped cosily around his angel, Crowley did just that, making sure Aziraphale had the best of times despite the whole roleplay scenario so completely coming apart at the seams. But they had forgotten that being in a dynamic didn’t always mean stern doms and contrite subs, sex that was rougher in nature and the use of toys. Sometimes slowing it down and being soft, loving, taking the time to pamper your partner no matter what their role was perfectly acceptable. Crowley was glad they had come to that epiphany before they ended up burning themselves out trying to do their dynamic “correctly”. He caressed Aziraphale’s cheek with a smile before the two of them came in unison, Crowley wanting so badly to see the ecstasy that passed over Aziraphale’s face as he climaxed, but missed it as he was involved in his own. No matter. The sounds of pleasure coming from the angel were a music that pushed his own org*sm over the edge. That he could please him like this made Crowley the happiest being on Earth.

Afterwards, Crowley sat cross-legged in front of Aziraphale while he combed through the demon’s beautiful black wings, flattening coverts back where they should be and preening vanes back into place against their shafts on the gigantic secondaries and primaries. Crowley hummed in contentment, his eyes slowly closing as Aziraphale worked rhythmically to right everything ruffled during their previous activities. Aziraphale could have sworn he fell asleep sitting like that and chuckled in a soft tone. It made Aziraphale happy to see him so relaxed and content. He made a note to pamper his demon occasionally in return for all he did for him. Subs weren’t the only ones who had to give. It worked best if both sides did, even in a dynamic such as theirs.

Chapter 7: Hooked

Chapter Text

Crowley had allowed his hair to grow longer again since the world received a reprieve and was allowed to continue on, the result being that it was around shoulder-length now and absolutely beautiful in Aziraphale’s opinion. Although today, Crowley had chosen to put half of it up in a bun like he used to do over nine years ago when they were fighting to keep the world from ending by influencing the entirely wrong boy. He tutted when he saw it, shooting Crowley a disapproving look, his hand paused halfway to a shelf with a book clutched in it.

Crowley, who was cleaning his glasses, returned his look with a puzzled one of his own. “What?”

“That hairstyle.”

Crowley moved to the backroom where he poured himself a finger of whisky before reappearing at the doorway, tumbler in his hand. “What’s wrong with it?”

“I do not care if ponytails are in vogue for men, it’s not a good look on you.”

“So? We agreed I get to keep the right to choose my own style.”

“Oh, you do, my dear,” replied Aziraphale smoothly before shooting him a look over his reading glasses. “But what happens in here is my choice, remember?”

“I remember, but you didn’t say anything about my hairstyle before just now.” Crowley could be an irritating little rules lawyer when he put his mind to it, in Aziraphale’s opinion. “If you haven’t expressed an opinion on something, it is hard for me to conform to what you like.”

Aziraphale was by his side in an instant, book and reading glasses gone. He grabbed a handful of annoying man bun and yanked Crowley’s head backwards in a manner that left no room for doubt that he controlled the situation right now as he left a hot kiss on Crowley’s cheek. Crowley licked his lips, his breathing coming faster despite his neck being bent at a rather uncomfortable angle. Sliding off the tie that held the style in place, Aziraphale freed Crowley’s locks, enjoying the brief sight of them tumbling down in loose waves onto his shoulders. His hand sought out that thick hair again, digging in deep just above the nape of his neck and grabbing right up against his scalp. Crowley’s breath hitched as he felt Aziraphale yank it back enough to gain control of his head. Noticing the change, Aziraphale slid a hand down Crowley’s front, feeling his trousers and the bulge rising there. The demon hissed in appreciation as the tumbler of liquor disappeared, clean and dry, back to the cabinet in the backroom where Aziraphale stored his stock of scotch and whisky.

“You like this, don’t you, my dear?”

Aziraphale relaxed his hold only to yank it firmly again using it to guide Crowley back to the office.

“Yesssss.”

Crowley heard the bookshop’s lock slide into place and the roller blinds shut, cutting off the natural light from the outside. He smiled. Sexy times. In the middle of the day. This was delicious, indeed. Aziraphale sternly glanced at him as he guided him by his hair to the staircase and up to the tiny flat where they stopped in the living room by the old Victorian-style couch with its cosy-looking afghan draped across the back. Crowley sometimes wondered if Aziraphale had knit that himself.

“Undress,” commanded Aziraphale.

Crowley shrugged off the jacket he was still wearing off and walked over to hang it beside the cardigan Aziraphale was placing on the coat stand as well. Returning to the middle of the living room where Aziraphale had marched him, he unbuttoned his waistcoat, slipping out of it and placing it on the threadbare reading chair next to the couch. His Henley soon joined it and a snap of his fingers removed everything from the waist down because it was easier than fighting with the tight trousers he favoured mostly to show off his skinny but well-shaped arse. Vain demon.

Finished, he put his hands behind his back, standing in the manner Aziraphale liked best. The angel was making his own preparations not far from where Crowley was on display, unbuttoning and rolling up his shirt sleeves. He noticed Crowley watching with an almost indescribable look upon his handsome face and turned away feeling smug. Aziraphale knew exactly how to jack up Crowley’s anticipation, and something as simple as pushing his sleeves up his forearms was almost enough to catch Crowley on fire.

“Stay here.”

Aziraphale walked down the hallway to the bedroom where their toy box sat at the foot of the bed — a rather large antique steamer trunk full of compartments sorted by type of toy, and kept clean and organized by Crowley as part of his service. Aziraphale opened it, peering down into its depths and deciding upon cuffs, rope and a toy they had only used once before. His eyes lighted upon it with a smile. Scooping it up, he shut the trunk’s lid again, taking his chosen equipment back out to the living to present to Crowley, who was going to be wearing it whether he liked it or not, barring the use of his safeword, of course.

“Oh, no. Not that.” Crowley groaned the moment he laid eyes on the dreaded object.

“You know what you have to do if you don’t want something done to you, Crowley.”

Crowley rolled his eyes with a frustrated growl. It really wasn’t a safewordable event even if he didn’t like it as much as other kinds of play. He walked a fine line between wanting to please Aziraphale and not wanting to do uncomfortable things that didn’t fit into the category of unpleasant enough he’d rather they never happen again. That was his safeword territory, as he defined it. Both decided that for them, submission meant that it wasn’t always going to be a bed of roses for Crowley, but he was never going to be expected to do something that would cause him physical or psychological harm. He was well aware that in this living room, he existed for Aziraphale’s pleasure and he very much got off on that, even with a bit of discomfort along the way. Sighing he looked down at the pillow Aziraphale had casually tossed in front of the couch then at the toys lined neatly up upon its worn cushions. Finally, he knelt, leaning forward when Aziraphale instructed him to.

Aziraphale pushed the cold steel of the anal hook up against his entrance, the slippery lube on its ball aiding in its insertion into the demon, who gasped as the chill spread locally inside him. Aziraphale brought it up along his back, pulling gently to make sure it was seated as deeply as the curve of the hook allowed, leaving Crowley squirming as more of it invaded him making very aware of it in general and the ball on the end in particular. The shaft was laid on his back, cold as ice and causing him to hiss like an ice cube had been dropped down his shirt.

“Sorry, dear, but I need to work.”

Gathering Crowley’s gorgeous red hair, Aziraphale tied it into a ponytail at the nape of his neck then wrapped the rope around it, knotting it at the end to hold it on the ponytail, then drew the remaining rope through the hole at the end of the anal hook, pulling it tight so Crowley’s neck was tipped back to the point he was staring at the ceiling.

“That doesn’t outright hurt, does it?” Aziraphale asked.

“No, it’s just damn uncomfortable.”

“That’s the point.”

“Bastard.”

“You’ve always said I’m a bit of one. I might as well act it once in a while.”

Aziraphale had literally put Crowley in quite a predicament. He had two choices of positions and neither one were going to be comfortable for very long because allowing his head to stay back like it was right now was going to tire out his neck muscles. If he shifted and allowed his neck to return to a more natural position, it would draw the anal hook up further into his body, intensifying the sensations from it and pulling firmly on his hair to which the rope was attached. Aziraphale crouched in front of him, looking like the cat who got the cream while Crowley gifted him with a dirty look in return.

“You know, I don’t want to sit here and simply watch you wiggle. How about a blow j*b?”

With a snap of Aziraphale fingers, Crowley found himself close to the couch staring down Aziraphale’s erection and expected to take action. He was going to have that blasted hook sliding along his prostate, flooding his body with the mixed signals of discomfort and desirable pleasure. Aziraphale really had him this time and the angel knew how much it galled Crowley when he was defeated like this. Because in the end, he’d enjoy every second of this play despite his obvious showing of dislike. He secretly loved it when Aziraphale outwitted him.

“One blowj*b coming up, sir.”

It was the most tortuously scrumptious blowj*b Crowley had ever given. Every bob of his head pulled not only on his hair, but moved with the hook within in, pushing it up further into his arse, then back down again when he had to allow his head to fall back to take the pressure off his arse. Switching to a hand job during those times, he allowed the rope to pull his gaze up towards the ceiling until his neck could take no more, and he yanked his head forward again, forcing the hook in deeper creating an intense feeling made even more sensitive by the pulling of his hair. Stretching to his limits, he’d take Aziraphale’s co*ck back in his mouth, giving the sloppiest blowj*b in the history of blow j*bs as his concentration was torn between the task before him and the sensations assaulting two different areas of his body. He was having trouble remembering to swallow his own saliva, a harder time actually remembering to suck on it and do the talented tongue play Aziraphale was so enamoured of, and on top of it, the masoch*stic side he was learning he possessed was fully enjoying the pain of his hair being pulled by the rope and the relentless slide of the hook.

With each head movement, he felt the hook’s ball move within him over erogenous zones bringing him closer to org*sm. Oh, God, he was almost there and Aziraphale was going to be very cross with him if he surrendered to the feeling and let it take him without asking permission. He was well aware how their dynamic worked. He had agreed to surrender his choice to org*sm to Aziraphale, and only the angel had the right to grant him permission to come. If he did without permission, he was not allowed to do so again for forty-eight hours. Crowley whimpered, the sound muffled as it escaped his mouth from around Aziraphale’s member, which wasn’t getting the blow j*b it usually enjoyed. But Aziraphale was not lecturing him about this because this exercise was not about him getting sucked off, per se. It was about the predicament Crowley was put in. How long could the demon go before he finally surrendered?

Crowley’s head snapped back again, relieving the pressure on his bum. His breath came now in short pants and his hand, while wrapped around Aziraphale’s co*ck and working the head of it, was shaking terribly, making a firm grip well-nigh impossible. His eyes squeezed closed as another whine escaped lips dried out by his staccato breathing. Aziraphale could see he was finally starting to crumble.

“I need to come, sir. Please?”

“Not before I do.”

The rope was loosened, providing Crowley with blessed relief as the hook slid back down out of intense areas and his scalp was no longer on fire from the hair-pulling. He returned to his blow j*b with more enthusiasm, taking Aziraphale’s entire co*ck in his mouth until his throat bulged with it. Sucking as hard as he could without accidentally introducing teeth into the equation, he lightly massaged Aziraphale’s balls until he felt a slight jerk that told him the angel was on the edge. A hand was placed on his neck, feeling the lump in his throat that was the tip of Aziraphale’s co*ck. Crowley glanced up to see Aziraphale looking down at him with a smile.

“Prepare yourself. I want to feel you swallow every last drop.” The angel’s face took on a look of brilliant ecstasy as he came, his come shooting down Crowley’s throat with such force the demon hardly had to actively swallow a drop. “Well done, my love. You endured that a long time and made me so proud of you.”

Crowley’s face was covered in kisses before Aziraphale put himself to rights, stood up and walked around behind Crowley. He removed the hook with a slow gentle motion that didn’t agitate Crowley further and replaced it with his own lubed fingers, curling one to stroke in exactly the right areas to make the overwhelmed demon come in less than a minute. Crowley didn’t care as he shouted out his org*sm, sem*n spurting out all over the ancient rug in front of him, almost falling into the couch with only Aziraphale’s arms keeping him from completely tumbling over in exhaustion. The mess with cleaned up with the small effort of a miracle. Aziraphale arranged them both so he was seated with his back against the couch and Crowley cradled in his arms, all sore spots healed up before his euphoria wore off enough for him to notice them. The afghan was pulled down off the couch to wrap him in before the coldness set in. Crowley’s body temperature dropped after intense play, they learned, and Aziraphale was now always ready to make sure he was warm.

“You’re shivering and I don’t believe we’re going anywhere tonight. Let’s get you into something warm.”

And Crowley was miracled into cosy black pyjamas, rewrapped in the fuzzy afghan and helped onto the couch. His head lay in Aziraphale’s lap, who stroked his hair with a loving touch as he murmured how proud he was of Crowley and how much he loved him. Crowley settled in with contentment, feeling very much like the most cherished being in the world. It wasn’t long before his endorphin high began to wear off, leaving his body exhausted from the excitement of the scene. Soon, Aziraphale heard a soft snore that made him break out in a tender smile. Settling in for a long wait while Crowley napped, he conjured a book for himself with which to pass the time.

Chapter 8: Behave

Chapter Text

Aziraphale looked at the folder Crowley had handed him two days after he received it from the junior demon, his lips pursed in a manner that told Crowley he wasn’t at all happy with his actions. Standing beside the disorganized desk, Crowley crossed his arms, ready to defend himself and his recent actions. He deserved the right to investigate this just as much as Aziraphale did. After all, he was the one who was most affected by it, being that he physically changed and temporarily lost his mind. He felt as strongly about getting to the bottom of this as Aziraphale did because he couldn’t live with himself if he transformed again and this time actually caused the angel he loved harm.

“How do you know this is actually the truth?” Aziraphale asked as he read over the papers within.

“I don’t. I can’t be one hundred per cent sure, angel, but the demon who got it for me is not the brightest supernatural being out there. He wouldn’t know subterfuge if it sat in his lap and introduced itself. I’m ninety-nine per cent sure.”

He startled as the folder was slapped on to the desktop, Aziraphale’s temper showing through. Crowley looked at fiery blue eyes set in a face that showed outright worry and concern.

“That was dangerous, Crowley! It could have been a trap! I . . . I can’t lose you.” Aziraphale grabbed him, pressing him hard against his chest, tucking his chin over Crowley’s shoulder so the demon could not see the tears forming. “We’ve fought too hard these past few years to get where we are now. No. You can’t do that ever again.”

“We need the truth, angel. I still have the connections to help us out.”

“No. You’re staying here. I will do the investigations from now on. I suspect Heaven has a hand in this.”

Crowley stepped back from the hug, not believing the words coming out of Aziraphale. “You’re not restricting my movements. That’s not how our dynamic works.”

“I need you safe! Don’t you understand that, Crowley?” He turned away, running a hand over the folder that had caused so much controversy between them. “Two and a half years ago I almost lost everything, including you. Never again.”

“I can be careful, Aziraphale since I’ve been doing this kind of stuff for ages now. I know how to keep myself safe.”

“We’ll discuss this later. We’re going to miss dinner at the Ritz.” Aziraphale swept out the door, Crowley following behind him.

Although Aziraphale tried to be cheerful at dinner, Crowley could see the strain beneath his forced positive attitude as they worked their way through the first course, Aziraphale picking at his Norfolk Crab more than eating it with his usual enthusiasm. Crowley observed him as he stirred his second cup of coffee, knowing even without the obvious signs that dinner wasn’t going to be its usual pleasant affair. He looked down at his own . . . whatever he ordered . . . haute cuisine was Aziraphale’s thing, so Crowley never really got the hang of all the fancy names. He enjoyed eating from a hedonistic standpoint, but he had not reached Aziraphale’s levels of food appreciation. Usually by now, Aziraphale had eaten not only his first course but had discreetly eaten what Crowley left on his plate, done under the cover of a miracle or two, so not to offend the manners required in such high-end restaurants.

“Not hungry?”

“I’m fine, Crowley. Just taking my time, that’s all.”

“That’s a lie and you know it. It’s still bothering you that I did some poking around of my own.”

They were silent again until the waiter came over to pick up their plates and replace them with the main course. Wine glasses were refilled with a different vintage meant to compliment this new course and they were once again left alone to dine. Again, Aziraphale did more staring at his plate than eating of the meal artfully arranged on it and Crowley, irritated by his unreasonable attitude, stared him defiantly in the eye as he ate every bite of his.

“C’mon, angel. This isn’t a cheap meal.”

“I’m not feeling peckish any more.”

Crowley lost all patience. “You wanted to come here. Now you’re not hungry? Drop the martyr act. It’s not sexy.”

With a furious wave, Crowley stopped time, cleared the table and got up to walk out. Aziraphale didn’t follow, choosing instead to sit stubbornly in his chairs, arms crossed as he avoided looking at Crowley.

“You’re going to look an arse sitting there at an empty table when I restart time. And you seem to forget I’m your ride home.”

Aziraphale promptly disappeared. Throwing his head back with a frustrated growl, Crowley stormed out to the Bentley and drove back to Mayfair. Screw Aziraphale, who could spend the night at home alone tonight for all Crowley cared. He very much understood the need to protect that which he loved the most in the world, but never once had he attempted to forbid Aziraphale from following the path he felt was correct even if he felt it foolish and stupid. How many times had he saved Aziraphale’s arse from being discorporated? Too many to count any more over the years. He took a corner at a speed that would have caused an accident under normal circ*mstances and ran several red lights, his demonic powers the only thing keeping two major accidents from occurring. Crowley was probably the only person on the planet who could drive angry without possible consequences.

He was still fuming when he came to a screeching halt at the kerb outside his flat, parking the Bentley in his favoured spot which would never dare to be anything less than open for him at all times. The existence of it slid off the minds of humans the moment they laid eyes on it even if parking elsewhere meant quite the hike to their destination. Stomping into the lobby, he entered the lift, mashing the button to the top floor where he lived. It started with a slight jerk, its smooth ride carrying him up before stopping with even less motion. He exited with the door’s ding, coming to a stop in the hallway after travelling down it only a few angry steps.

“Why are you here?” he asked the contrite angel standing beside his door. “I’m not in the mood to fight with you further over this. I have every right to try to figure this out, too. After all, I was the one affected by it. You didn’t become a monster.”

“I know. May I come in?”

Crowley pointed at the keyhole in his front door. The lock snicked as it slid out of place and the door silently opened. With a sweep of his arm, he gestured to Aziraphale to enter. The angel smiled, stepping into the living room for the first time in a while. He had avoided Crowley’s flat since he had finished cleaning it and had also encouraged his boyfriend to spend as much time at the bookshop as possible. A sick feeling settled into the pit of his stomach as he recalled the bad memories from weeks ago and the tense situation he had endured. Sending up a small prayer to the Almighty Herself, he hoped he had eradicated every speck of pollen in here when he had finally gathered enough courage to come back and clean.

“Aziraphale, I really can’t . . .”

“I apologize, Crowley. You have every right to follow what leads you can.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry I let this get out of hand. Do you forgive me?”

“Of course, angel. Always.”

He strode over to him after putting his coat away, taking the nearly weeping Aziraphale by the hand and leading him to the couch where they curled up silently together, this time in perfect harmony that opposed the discord of the Ritz. Crowley stroked Aziraphale’s hair allowing him the time to recover before he spoke since he sorely needed it. He felt his own anger dissipate as he felt the angel’s remorse pour off of him. Why couldn’t they get this right? Six thousand years of friendship-turned-relationship and they still fought. Or were they fine because they asked each other for forgiveness and gave it in return?

“You won’t lose me, Aziraphale. Like I said, I know how to be careful. If we combine our efforts, we can cross off more possibilities and chase more leads.”

“I know. I just . . . worry. I admit I would close you up in the bookshop to keep you safe if I could.”

“Naked?” asked Crowley, attempting to lighten the mood. “Ready and willing to do your bidding?”

“Crowley!”

“It has you thinking, doesn’t it? Getting your co*ck sucked under your desk. That’s pretty mild, even for you these days, given the ideas you’ve come up with lately, but we could add a little fun by having it happen during opening hours. Not like you can’t miracle me invisible or your trousers back to normal in a second if someone enters. Or impact play whenever you wanted because I’d be around. Or whatever your imagination thinks up.”

“Honestly . . .”

“You’re thinking about it.”

“Your mind can be so filthy.”

“And yours can’t?”

Crowley had his waistcoat and shirt off. Aziraphale stared at the thin body before him that still after millennia could not shake off the subtle — and not-so-subtle — references to Crowley’s relatively short time in snake form. Then the demon was on the floor beside him, wearing not a single scrap of clothing, kneeling on a black pillow with his head in Aziraphale’s lap worshipping him in that quiet way he had developed. His head was laid reverently against Aziraphale’s soft waistcoat, his hands tenderly caressing his angel. Aziraphale put a hand down on top of his head, stroking his hair in comfort and praise, the backs of his fingers brushing across Crowley’s high cheekbone.

“I should have asked. At least told you.”

“You’re not indebted to me in that manner, Crowley and I realize that now. That’s not the dynamic we’ve established.”

But Crowley was slinking up his chest, his nakedness sliding across Aziraphale, every part of his body seeming to touch him while the heat from it penetrated through his clothes. Aziraphale’s breath hitched. It was times like this where he completely forgot exactly how seductive the demon could be when he put his mind to it. Crowley may have been the sub, but he was very good at getting his own way at times. His tongue licked along Aziraphale’s jawline, hot and wet. Teeth nibbled at his ear before he felt breath across it, carrying Crowley’s words to him.

“Maybe I should be punished.”

“Oh?”

He knew what Crowley was asking for — “funishment”. Punishment given playfully in the course of a scene. A few swats on the bum given for the enjoyment of dom and sub, to give an example, when the sub "misbehaved". They did it every so often when Aziraphale was in the right mindset for impact play. He wasn’t much of a sad*st, not gaining pleasure from Crowley’s pain as much as he gained pleasure from Crowley’s positive responses to pain given for pleasure. It was enough that he indulged Crowley when the mood was right.

“Maybe you do need a spanking. You have been rather mouthy today, haven’t you?”

“Yes, I have. Too mouthy for a sub. I need to be taught a lesson.”

Crowley’s eyes flicked to Aziraphale’s hand. He was wearing the soft beige glove he always wore when spanking Crowley to keep down the pain to his own hand. Crowley smiled softly, co*cking an eyebrow at the angel. At Aziraphale’s signal, he crawled into his lap, stretching his lithe body across it so that Aziraphale had easy access to his arse. The rest of his length stretched along the couch in an easy pose, Aziraphale running his eyes over it to drink in the casual sex appeal that Crowley always seemed to exude.

“I . . . I think you deserve five for your disobedience today.” It was difficult to get the words out past his lips when all he wanted to do was take Crowley right here and now.

He brought his hand down across one perfect cheek in his first swat, causing Crowley to jump as the impact left a perfect red handprint behind that Aziraphale ran a finger over as the demon whimpered slightly. The angel could feel things stir against his legs and knew Crowley’s excitement would only grow from there. Without warning, he swatted Crowley again, the demon’s body stiffening in response as he cried out a bit louder this time. Another handprint graced his perfect bum.

“That’s two. Three more to go.”

Number three had Crowley writhing beneath his arm, his fingers clutching at the leather covering the couch cushion under his fingers. Aziraphale could feel Crowley’s erection reach its fullest between the cracks of his thighs. Crowley started to push it further in, an attempt to gain more pleasure from this encounter, but Aziraphale put a stop to it. He would decide when and how Crowley received pleasure and right now, he wanted his sub concentrating on the spankings themselves, not his own co*ck.

“None of that. You’re going to earn more and they will not be the fun kind.”

Four was a bit harder and place in an area already reddened by a previous strike. Crowley threw his head back, his cry bordering on keening, his body moving in an attempt to get off of Aziraphale’s lap before the endorphins let down, flooding his entire system with a feeling of absolute pleasure. His breath came hard now, the panting evident to Aziraphale as Crowley’s ribcage rose and fell against his chest, his head buried now in the couch cushions.

“One more.”

Crowley rose up on to the heels of his hands with a shout as Aziraphale’s hand impacted his arse one final time. Head thrown back, he loosed his cry to the heavens before falling back down to the couch, hips attempting to gyrate wildly in response to the stimulation. Aziraphale put a firm arm over him, letting him know under no uncertain terms that such behaviour was not acceptable right now. He’d indulge Crowley once in a while, but his manipulative tactics needed to be nipped in the bud. Crowley wanted Aziraphale in charge, so Aziraphale was going to be in charge without Crowley making attempts to top from the bottom. He rolled Crowley over, those golden yellow eyes looking up at him with lust.

“Want you, angel.”

“Do you, now? Well, you need to control yourself first or I’ll have you give me a blow j*b and leave you unfulfilled.”

“Yes, sir.”

Using his angelic strength, Aziraphale rose with Crowley on his lap. Carrying him to the bedroom, he placed him on the bed for further activities that satisfied them both. This time Crowley was well-behaved and Aziraphale rewarded him with an org*sm before they retreated to the bathroom for a very long bubble bath together then settled in to read — or play with his mobile in Crowley's case — while snuggling lovingly up against one another for the rest of the evening.

Chapter 9: Collars and Rings

Chapter Text

It was a bright, crisp morning as they walked together hand-in-hand back from the coffee shop around the corner where Aziraphale bought a latte on almost a daily basis, often paired with a pastry to munch on for breakfast. He handed the bag to Crowley, who performed minor discreet services in public, such as holding the door open for Aziraphale and carrying his purchases. It was a semi-typical morning for them of which only one other semi-typical morning happened. Either Aziraphale wanted to head out for fancy coffee or Crowley would rise first to make him tea to present to him in bed and kneel beside it ready to take the cup away when he was finished. Today was so nice, Aziraphale simply wanted to get out in the gradually warming weather, being so tired of the cold of winter. He was happy to stroll along with Crowley, breathing in the end-of-winter air with its promise of spring.

Crowley smiled to see him in such good spirits. They had hit several dead ends in their investigations and Crowley had started to wonder if this was a one-time deal that maybe they wouldn’t have to worry about further. Maybe the perpetrator had played their hand, failed and slunk off back into whatever hole they crawled out of because they had no Plan B. Maybe it was time to forget about it; remain vigilant, but let go of the need to figure out the mystery. He considered discussing it with Aziraphale later, preferably at a time he was clothed and not wearing a collar.

They approached the bookshop and Crowley held the door open for Aziraphale before closing and locking it. They were not going to be open this week to take time to celebrate their new dynamic. It had been two months since they negotiated this and despite some growing pains, they were both very happy in the relationship they had forged. Crowley secretly believed not having to possibly sell a book was a secondary reason to keep the shop closed for a few days, but he kept this opinion to himself.

Crowley placed the food they bought on the backroom’s table then returned to the office to kneel with bowed head awaiting Aziraphale to buckle his collar around his neck. He was not allowed to put it on or take it off himself. Aziraphale walked over to sit down in his desk chair beside Crowley, stooping to place a gentle kiss on the top of his head. The drawer he kept the collar in creaked open and Crowley heard the metal buckle bang against the wooden side of the drawer as Aziraphale took it out. Lifting his head, he made eye contact, feeling the cool leather touching the back of his neck and wrap around his throat. With a smile, Aziraphale looked down to buckle it correctly in place. Crowley scooted forward, waiting for the customary kiss Aziraphale always gave him after he was collared. Aziraphale’s warm lips touched his reminding Crowley exactly how loved and protected he was here in the bookshop.

Don’t ever leave me. I want to be yours forever, angel. He wasn’t sure if he only thought the words or tried to form them into speech as he leaned into Aziraphale’s kiss.

“You’re doing great, Crowley. I love you so much,” whispered Aziraphale as he tucked a strand of fiery red hair behind Crowley’s right ear. “Now, go get breakfast ready.”

“Yes, sir.”

Going to the kitchenette, Crowley pulled out a serving plate and two smaller ones for them to eat off of, taking them to the table to lay out. He plated the bag of pastries, put the correct lattes in front of their places — warming them with a small demonic miracle — and stood back, hands folded in front of him to wait until Aziraphale came to take his seat and indicated he could as well. Sometimes he would be required to serve the meal, but usually that occurred over at his flat or upstairs where there were kitchens with enough space and appliances to make a real meal. If they had takeaway, they often ate it here in the backroom instead of upstairs and Aziraphale would serve himself from it instead of expecting Crowley to do it. Either way, Crowley had a designated place to stand in to wait after he was done setting the table and he was only allowed to seat himself once Aziraphale gave permission.

“Thank you, Crowley. I see you even heated the coffee. You think of everything, my dear.”

Aziraphale entered to seat himself after putting a record on the gramophone. Debussy’s Claire de lune filled the bookshop, a soothing piano concerto to eat the first meal of the day by.

Crowley came to the table and sat down, waiting again until Aziraphale chose the pastries he wanted. Then Crowley helped himself to one to nibble while Aziraphale ate. The angel regarded him, his breakfast untouched on his plate. Crowley looked up, his brow wrinkled in puzzlement.

“What?”

“Are you happy?” asked Aziraphale.

“Of course I’m happy. Why would you ask such a thing?”

“I don’t know. I wanted to make sure since this dynamic means a lot of work for you. You wait on me hand and foot. You perform certain rituals. There are times I have you perform tasks or do things to you you’d rather I didn’t and you haven’t once used your safeword.”

“You put in work as well. You’ve set up the rituals, decided my chores, keep an eye on everything to make sure it’s working for both of us. Look, every relationship is work. It’s just the work in this one is different from the work in a vanilla one, that’s all.”

“But you don’t always have fun. I know you dislike gags, which is why I don’t use them that often, but you never complain when I do, my dear.”

“Angel, submission’s about putting your desires before mine. That’s what I want to do and God knows I don’t do a damn thing I really don’t want to and never have, Hell’s Head Office be double-damned. It’s how I show you I love you. And I have such a mouth on me, you’d know I’d tell you if it went too far. Now I paid for those pastries, so you’d better eat them, dominant or not.” He smiled at Aziraphale, glad they had an easy enough relationship that a little teasing wouldn’t earn him a punishment.

They ate in comfortable silence as the melody of the piano piece played around them. It was Aziraphale who broke the silence. Putting down his pastry, he made eye contact with Crowley, his face serious. The demon gave him his full attention wondering what was on his mind to bring around such a look. Was he not doing a good enough job? Was that was this was about? Did Aziraphale think he was being sloppy and therefore that showed he was not happy? Crowley’s heart beat a little faster and what little he had consumed was not sitting well in his stomach any more.

“What would you think about a permanent collar, Crowley?”

“What?” asked Crowley dumbly, the question coming out of nowhere in his opinion. “Permanent collar?” He stuttered for a few syllables, unable to put together enough thoughts to form a sentence. “But . . . but this is something personal and private for me. I don’t want to run around in public displaying my particular relationship to the humans. They barely understand dom/sub relationships in the first place. This is for us. Not for them.”

The words came out like he was jealous and their relationship needed to be protected and nurtured, hidden from the view of those who would not understand.

Aziraphale laughed. “You do realize that we are capable of making it invisible to everyone but us.”

Crowley gave him a blank stare before recovering. “But why are you suggesting a permanent one? I’m not submissive to you outside these four walls.”

“No, you’re not and I wouldn’t expect you to be submissive except in the context you desire, my love. But I do think it would be a good reminder of what we have here.” He picked his pastry back up, adding casually, “I was thinking of replacing my signet ring. It represented my connection to Heaven, which I no longer have. What if I wore a ring that represented our dynamic instead?”

Crowley about spit out what he was chewing. “What? Dom ring? Sub collar? Am I missing something here?”

Aziraphale pulled a small light blue velvet box out of his pocket, opening it to show Crowley the ring inside. It was made of gold, just like his signet ring except it was a simpler ring with a snake imposed over a pair of wings. He passed it over so Crowley could inspect it up close.

“I don’t know if it’s the right view to have, but I belong to you as much as you belong to me.” He blushed. “We simply have different roles in the relationship.”

“Nothing wrong with believing that. All right. I’m in as long as my collar remains invisible to humans. Do you have one?”

Aziraphale nodded, pulling a thin rolled black metal collar out of thin air. Crowley immediately liked it. He smiled with a nod.

“You did good, angel. It’ll go with my clothes.”

“Yes, that is what matters, isn’t it?” Aziraphale laughed. “Finish eating, sub. I have a collar to put on you.”

“Yes, sir.” Crowley grinned in return.

After breakfast, he cleaned up the dishes while Aziraphale disappeared to do something he said was for the collaring. When Crowley emerged from the kitchenette, Aziraphale had cleared space below the oculus, pushing aside the display there and replacing it with a black velvet pillow. The angel looked sheepishly at his demon with a shrug.

“I wanted it to be a little nicer. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. Whatever works for you, angel.”

Aziraphale approached to kiss him, a hand held behind Crowley’s head to keep the kiss going as long as the angel wanted. Crowley moaned softly in response to the intensity of it, realizing that this whole collaring deal was having quite the effect on Aziraphale. Maybe he should have suggested it earlier himself.

Aziraphale was fumbling at the buttons on his waistcoat, undoing them one by one before sliding it off Crowley’s shoulders. He tugged his shirt over his head ruffling that red hair in the process, but he kept the small laugh on his lips to himself. To upset Crowley now would be to ruin what should be a tender intimate moment. He ran a hand over those tight jeans, vanishing every last stitch of clothing Crowley wore. The demon co*cked an eyebrow at him, completely unashamed of his current state of undress, but still questioning it.

“Why can’t I ever wear clothes any more?”

“It’s symbolic of your vulnerability. You’ve bared your soul to me and allowed me to take charge.”

“Don’t get too big of a head now.”

“Crowley, can we have a nice little collaring here without your sardonic comments, please?”

“I’m sorry, angel. This is important to me, too.”

“Kneel.”

Crowley folded up on to the pillow, hands on his knees like he was used to, feeling the cold of the steel as Aziraphale put it around his neck then warmed it with a miracle. Aziraphale ran a finger around it and the black metal emitted a spark that chased after his hand, following it all around back to the starting point. Nodding at Crowley, Aziraphale smiled.

“There. Only we can see it.”

“Thank you.”

Crowley’s gaze sought out Aziraphale’s right pinky finger with its new ring. A ray of light from the oculus glinted off the design, illuminating the snake and wings in a rather dramatic happening that Crowley could not help but feel wasn’t entirely circ*mstantial. He eyed Aziraphale, but the angel was busy admiring the collar he had just placed around his sub’s neck, a wide loving smile across his face.

If you approve, you could say something, Crowley thought to himself.

He was helped to his feet and taken upstairs where he turned to Aziraphale as soon as they stepped in the living room. Wrapping his sinewy body around his angel, he kissed every part of him he could reach, feeling rather amorous. He nibbled along his ear and down his jawline eventually latching on to his lips for a long deep passionate kiss that had Aziraphale moaning into his mouth, sky blue eyes closing the longer it went on. Crowley was reluctant to let up, but he had questions to ask.

“So, now what? Are you going to f*ck me silly?”

“I was hoping to take you on the bed . . . tied and helpless. I want to properly ravish you.”

Crowley discovered Aziraphale also had wrist and ankle cuffs that matched his collar that soon were encircling his arms and legs before he was escorted to the bed and told to lie on his back. His partner was swift with the rope, binding him tightly in a spread eagle position before Crowley could decide to start to act up like he was want to do at times. The demon was not an easy sub and never would be. Carefully he tested his bonds, finding there was no escape without resorting to a miracle, but the pampering he was to receive would banish any thoughts of performing that action from his mind. Aziraphale covered him with kisses from head to toe before homing in on the main course. Soft hands scratched at his inner thighs eliciting low hisses from him.

“Steady now,” soothed Aziraphale.

He wrapped a hand around Crowley’s shaft, thumbing the head until the demon was fully hard, then aggravatingly playing with it, bringing his desires up before letting go again only to repeat the process until Crowley cried out in frustration. Only then did Aziraphale position himself over Crowley, pressing fingers against his entrance first without entering. They brushed along his skin, circling around the area in a tantalizing dance without ever pushing in. Crowley writhed the best he could in his bonds. Sweat started to form on his temples as he licked his lips, his eyes focused the best they could on Aziraphale, looking directly at his upper arm as it moved with his hand.

“Angel, please f*ck me . . . Please, sir.”

“There’s the word I was looking for.”

He felt Aziraphale slide into that tight warm area, the rub of his co*ck making the tease worthwhile to the demon. It always felt different when he was bound — he couldn’t rock effectively to add to his own pleasure, nor could he wrap his legs around Aziraphale to pull his co*ck in deeper. He was stuck taking what the angel offered, but he needn’t of worried this time. Aziraphale was giving him exactly what he desired — rough, but loving. He was thoroughly taken with no choice about it, his control removed even though he enjoyed relinquishing it to the angel and savoured every second of his helpless state. He was used in the truest sense of the word and loved it. It was Aziraphale’s right to do so.

He lost track of time, not knowing how long it went on before Aziraphale cried out, filling him with warm liquid before slowing down, his eyes on Crowley’s, telling him that he had to ask for his own release. Panting with a body burning with the desire for release, he did exactly what was expected of him.

“May I come, sir?”

The feelings that accompanied the spilling of his seed on his own stomach exploded through his mind along with love for his angel, his dom. He felt whole, content, cared for. That was all that mattered as Aziraphale waved away the mess, untied him and wrapped him up for some much-needed aftercare, murmuring praise.

Chapter 10: Frenzied Desires

Chapter Text

Two mornings after Aziraphale gave Crowley his new collar, he was awakened to insistent knocking on the bookshop door. Groggy, he threw a dressing robe over himself, looked over at Crowley, who was still sleeping and headed downstairs to peek out the window. A young woman with long black hair stood on the stoop looking worried as she gazed around her, waiting. Aziraphale gasped to see her and miracled his dressing robe into his clothing before pulling the door open. She backed up in surprise as the bell jingled.

“Oh! Aziraphale! I found something! I had to bring it to you immediately,” she said before he could even greet her. She thrust a necklace with a pendant in a design similar to his former signet ring at him along with a large white envelope of papers. “Sandalphon mentioned that he lost his pendant down in London and I knew it was a clue. I’ve spent a week trying to track it down and found it inside some . . . club? Anyway, the address is in that packet with my notes. I can’t stay. Sorry!”

“Thank you, Nuriel. I do appreciate the information.” Aziraphale took the items from her with a smile of gratitude.

With a nod to him, she became a blue light streaking towards the sky and disappeared.

“Who was that?” asked Crowley from the stairs as Aziraphale shut the door and began to open the envelope.

He padded over to the angel, wrapped in a quilt from neck to ankle, looking over his shoulder at the papers Aziraphale had pulled out to read over. Aziraphale glared at him, annoyed. He got annoyed at Crowley’s rude habit of reading over his shoulder and Crowley knew it, but the demon did not back off.

“Crowley, you know I dislike it when you do that. And who said you could bring a quilt down here? It’s going to get dirty being dragged over the floor. You have a dressing gown for chilly mornings,” Aziraphale snapped, more force behind his words than he intended. “Now take that back upstairs and come down in your dressing gown if you’re cold. Otherwise, your choice is to wear nothing.”

Without Crowley hovering, Aziraphale read through the information, sobering as he finished. He regarded the pendant with a sinking feeling, turning when Crowley returned, clad in a black dressing robe and curious as a cat about the papers Aziraphale was holding. Aziraphale handed them over to him and held out the pendant for him to examine as well. Crowley turned it over in his hands, examining the details before giving it back to him.

“It’s exactly like your old signet ring.”

“It’s Sandalphon’s. Apparently he’s been doing recognisance on me for the last six months. Nuriel brought it and the papers to me just now, so I have some useful connections, too. I didn’t think she’d risk it, but she did.”

Crowley flipped through the papers noting it was a list of places Aziraphale frequented with observations scribbled down about each location and confirmation that he had not only been observing the real estate office who contacted Crowley but had helped scout out the location for the flower shop the realtor used. He sighed as he shoved them back in the envelope with the pendant and gave them back to Aziraphale who carried them into the office to store away in a desk drawer with the folder containing the information Crowley had managed to obtain.

“The pendant was found in the lobby of my gentleman’s club.”

“Seriously?” Crowley asked. “You still go to that after all these years?”

“Yes, I do, but I have not been there in about five months now. It looks like I’m going to have to do some investigations there.” Aziraphale headed back upstairs, Crowley trailing along behind him.

In the kitchen’s flat where they both stood as Crowley made tea and pondered what to do about breakfast now that his cooking skills were improving, Aziraphale fidgeted nervously with the sugar bowl he had retrieved to be helpful. Crowley noticed, putting down the frying-pan he had got out.

“We can have eggs or porridge. Those two things are basically the extent of my breakfast cooking skills. What, angel? What’s got you so nervous?”

“I need to ask you for a favour. Outside our dynamic.”

“Oh?” Crowley gave Aziraphale his full attention now.

“Well, there are two levels to the gentlemen’s club. There is the general area downstairs any member can use . . . and there’s the upstairs where it’s a little more . . . spicy?” Aziraphale gave him that cute anxious smile of his. “There are rooms for more intimate activities like snogging and the like, the private rooms for actual sex and the two rooms reserved for those into the whole kink thing. One’s a general kind of room for anyone, but in the other, it’s for those who are partnered only. I’m going to need you along if I end up having to poke around everywhere.”

Crowley grinned like a maniac. “Oh, it’s that kind of club. Angel, you’re kinkier than I thought.”

“There are requirements.”

“Like what?”

“Subs have to be naked.”

“No problem. It’s not like I actually possess modesty as humans define it.”

“And collared . . .” Aziraphale was giving him a doubtful look that bordered on hopeful.

“Ugh. It’s my collar and not for their viewing pleasure.”

“I can do it alone. I’ll just turn invisible.”

“And send out miracle energy Heaven can use to sniff you out and know what you’re up to? Not an option soooo, I’ll live with it.”

“They’re going to love you,” sighed Aziraphale, eyeing his thin lithe partner who looked perpetually in his late twenties. “Be prepared for most of the room to be keeping a discreet, or not-so-discreet, eye on you. But I believe it’ll be helpful.”

~*~*~

That evening, they had dinner at Aziraphale’s gentlemen’s club, the angel discreetly asking questions about potential events that might have occurred — trespassing, burglaries in the area, potential new members touring the club — anything that might indicate what Sandalphon had been doing here. After dinner was completed, Crowley getting plenty of attention in his all-black suit, including shirt and tie, they retired briefly to the reading room where Crowley pretended to care about the articles in one of the available newspapers while Aziraphale continued his quiet investigations by engaging members eager to see him after all these months in conversations about the club’s goings-on while he had been absent. Even down here, Crowley garnered looks, especially since he was not wearing his usual sunglasses. They were not allowed unless there was a medical need for them and Aziraphale had argued that they would be too much of the wrong distraction.

He needed Crowley to be eye candy, not a source one used to satisfy impolite curiosity. He had helpfully conjured up some coloured contacts in a lovely shade of green that looked quite fetching on Crowley with his head of red hair. Aziraphale could see them from where he stood as the demon looked up to talk to a middle-aged man who had interrupted his reading. Straightening his own bowtie, that he wore this time with a nice beige suit instead of his usual daily dress, Aziraphale got back to a conversation that appeared to have a few leads in it. Sandalphon had been here posing as a potentially interested gentleman wishing to check out the club. Heaven was being thorough about his routine. He suspected another angel was following Crowley so that the demonsbane ended up on his doorstep just in time for Aziraphale to show up and become the victim of the monster it had turned his partner into.

Why they were being so detailed about it all is what puzzled him. Was it simply that Heaven had no idea how to track someone or had they just not decided yet how to implement their plan? And where did they get demonsbane?

“Thank you for catching me up, Will, but I think it’s time I head upstairs with Anthony.”

“No wonder you’ve been gone a while. I bet that one wears you out.”

Aziraphale laughed and collected Crowley.

“This is it.”

“I’ll be fine.”

He discovered he was wrong as he was led through the large private room by Aziraphale, wearing only what he was Created in and a now-visible collar. His cheeks burned slightly at the men’s gazes turned to drink in his skinny form, lighting quickly on not only his face but what was below his waist.

“Ezra! I’m surprised to see you up here. You weren’t one to even use the snogging area.”

“He’s gorgeous, Ezra. Where did you find him?”

“Anthony and I have known each other for years.”

Aziraphale took a seat, Crowley sitting down on the floor beside him like the other subs in the room were. Some gave him appreciative works while others appeared more jealous. Most of the dominants couldn’t keep their eyes off of him and a couple were not shy about the bulges in their trousers. Crowley smirked to see what effect he was having on them. So this was what it was like to be an incubus, he thought smugly as he preened, although his attitude wasn’t going to win him any friends with the other subs. Mind changed about the situation, he stretched out like an overly large cat, eating up the attention, licking his lips at those lusting after him. Aziraphale allowed him to perform his act, getting on with chatting with the men in the room, doms and subs alike.

Crowley gazed around the room, taking in the various sights from acts of service, scenes on the equipment over to the left of him to outright sexual displays, like the blow j*bs taking place in the social area. Aziraphale had exchanged pleasantries and that was about it. He was sitting there looking quite out of place as he attempted to ignore the surrounding debauchery. Crowley tapped him on the leg.

“Either take me over to that spanking bench and give me a few swats or let me give you a blow j*b. You need to look like you fit in here if you want them to divulge information,” he whispered.

As if on cue, they were approached by one of the men who was watching Crowley rather intently.

“Redhead, huh. I bet you mark up nicely. I’d love to take a flogger to his arse.”

“Umm, yes . . . but he’s my sub.”

“How about you do it, then? Give the boys here a little treat. I have a flogger you can borrow.”

Flustered, Aziraphale smiled politely back at him before discreetly glancing down at Crowley, who gave a slight nod.

“I suppose a little flogging wouldn’t go amiss.”

The angel thanked his lucky stars he had thrown a flogger before in the time he and Crowley had been playing. Crowley knelt on the bench, perfect arse on display as Aziraphale came down with a bad case of performance anxiety. Crowley rolled his eyes at him.

“Are you my dom or what?”

“Yes.”

“Then suck it up and start acting like it.”

Roughly grabbing Crowley by the hair, Aziraphale nearly shoved his tongue down his throat in his attempt to regain control of the situation. Crowley about melted, winking at him as Aziraphale ended the kiss and took up the flogger. Feeling emboldened, the angel took off his jacket, setting it neatly on the floor beside the bench and headed to Crowley’s other end to get to work. With a snap, the fails hit dead centre on the demon’s bum, the first red marks rising to the surface. Crowley moaned — partially because he enjoyed the pain and partially for theatre. Give those voyeurs a nice show and maybe they would get information in return.

Another lash of the flogger hit him, up closer to the top of his arse, leaving another red mark. And another. And another. Crowley writhed. And moaned. And wiggled his posterior on occasion. All while stealing the show in the room as more gathered to watch Aziraphale work and Crowley’s skin gain more red stripes. The demon could feel their desire. Some of them wanted him. A couple wandered back to their chairs where they could discreetly masturbat* to the scene before them. Jealousy flowed off a few subs. Others didn’t care about his performance. Some outright desired him as much as their doms did. Crowley hadn’t felt like this since the bathhouses of ancient Rome. It went straight to his head; the portion of him that still wanted to do its demonic duty wished to spread lust, its need pressing against his mind. The urge to beg Aziraphale to allow him to suck his co*ck was almost overwhelming. Let them all see exactly what he could do and how he could affect them! There would be tarnished souls tonight.

“I think he’s had enough for now.” Crowley heard Aziraphale say before the flogging stopped altogether and the angel was at his head checking on his condition, worry in his eyes. “Are you all right, my dear? You look positively demonic even with those contacts in.”

Crowley turned to him with a hiss, eye teeth gone as sharp as snake fangs. “The lust . . . I can feel the lust . . .”

“Shhh, let’s get you calmed down then I think we’ll make our excuses to leave. I can’t glean any more information like this and you’re rather poorly.”

“Please, angel. Let me suck your co*ck. Right here and now while they all watch. Oh, how they want to watch . . .”

Crowley begged as Aziraphale got him upright and an arm swung around his thin waist. Half-carrying, half-walking Crowley back to a chair, he pulled him up into his lap to cuddle, holding him against his chest with supernatural strength as Crowley tried to get loose, pleading in whispered tones how he wanted the men to watch him, to pour out more lust as their sexual feelings grew from their voyeurism.

“I think we went a little too far for his first public scene. I’ll just have him get dressed and we’ll head home,” Aziraphale said to the man who enquired if Crowley was not feeling well.

“No, angel. I’ll be good. I’ll give you the best blow j*b ever. Just let me show you.”

“At home, my dear. I’ll allow you to at home.”

Aziraphale struggled to get him in at least his trousers and shirt, Crowley not being any help at all in his overwhelmed state, but finally, he had enough clothes on to get him to the Bentley that Aziraphale encouraged to drive them home with a small miracle. Driving carefully and within the speed limit, the Bentley got them back to the bookshop where Crowley dragged Aziraphale inside, still under the influence of the desires of men.

Crowley’s trousers and shirt landed on the floor then Aziraphale was grabbed by the wrist and taken urgently into the backroom where Crowley sat him on the couch and fumbled to open his zip, determined in his strange frenzy to give that blow j*b. Feeling helpless in the face of the unknown — Crowley had never acted like this around him — Aziraphale allowed him to give that much-needed blow j*b, stroking his hair and whispering soothing words as Crowley did. It felt wonderful, making Aziraphale wonder if Crowley was reflecting some desire he was experiencing into it, heightening the angel’s responses. With a groan, he let go, filling Crowley’s mouth and listening to him swallow the salty liquid down. The demon collapsed onto Aziraphale’s lap afterwards, senseless.

As he was pulling Crowley up on to the couch itself, it hit him — a feeling of determination that passed in front of the bookshop. Abandoning Crowley for a moment, Aziraphale rushed to the door, cracking it open just in time to see a blue streak shoot up to the stars above as he felt the throbbing of a spying spell nearby, waiting, watching the bookshop. Watching them. Pushing it away with every bit of magical strength he had, a panicked Aziraphale returned to the backroom to shake a sleeping Crowley awake.

“Crowley, wake up. We need to go now. They’re watching us so they’re planning something. We need to get out of here and go to your flat.”

Aziraphale laid some wards to keep his books safe as Crowley, groggy from his frenzy, came to. He seemed to barely understand Aziraphale’s explanation but agreed that going to his place was the best move right now. The angel grabbed the evidence they had obtained and they disappeared along with the Bentley to Mayfair where Aziraphale tucked Crowley into bed before keeping watch all night out in the living room, afraid for their safety. Heaven was up to something, Aziraphale knew it in the very marrow of his bones and he was not going to leave them open to attack. Turning a chair to face the front door, he kept a miracle at the ready and stood guard while Crowley slept his way to recovery.

Chapter 11: Resistence

Chapter Text

“Aziraphale, we can’t leave,” Crowley said flatly, leaning against the doorway to the bedroom. “We’ll be tipping them off that we know what they’re up to. You might have already, having us come here.”

“They’re not going to spy on us!”

Aziraphale was staring down at suitcase wondering what they should even take with them. It had been a while since he had actually travelled anywhere long term. Usually, he packed a few clothes, some toiletries and enough books to keep him entertained in the downtimes. Sighing, he gripped the sides of it, his eyes closed. Letting his fingers unclench from their vice-like grip after a moment, he turned to Crowley. The demon looked better today after his frenzy last night. Twelve hours of sleep had allowed his spirit to shed the overwhelming feelings of lust and returned him fully to his senses. He was wearing his dressing gown and carrying a mug of coffee.

“Is the angel who brought you the information trustworthy? Is the information?”

“She’s the field agent for North America. We have more in common with each other than Heaven. Had she been able to help, I would have asked you to allow me to bring her in on our little scheme to stop the Apocalypse.”

“Heaven has more than one field agent here on Earth?”

“Well, given how the human race has evolved to act so beastly at times, it was deemed necessary. She was assigned to Earth two thousand years ago. Before that, it was just me.”

“Huh. I was the only one for Hell. Doubt they’ve bothered to replace me. Nobody wants to live up here.”

“I’ve passed information back and forth with her for a while now. She trusts Heaven less than I do these days.”

“All right, then. If you trust her, I won’t question it. But we can’t just take off. If you want to get away just to be out of their sights, then we need to do it right.”

“And how’s that?”

“Let them know we’re going.”

“What? ”

“We make a big deal out of taking a holiday. When we get there, we miracle up a lot of privacy spells and get some time alone. But you do know they’ll be back to trying to spy on us the moment we return home,” Crowley replied, taking a sip of his coffee. “Anyway, I do think you’re in need of some time away from Heaven’s prying eyes and I do happen to own a private island in the Caribbean, complete with a holiday home. I have been renting it out as an Airbnb, but as of tomorrow it’ll be empty again and nobody’s lined up to rent it afterwards.”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes at him, suddenly suspicious of Crowley’s newly-admitted-to property. “Where the hell did you get a private island?”

“I bought it.”

“On your wages?”

“Angel, you know I don’t follow the rules. I see no problem with conjuring any funds I need when I need them. It does put money out in the human economy so there’s your good deed if you need that to hang on to. How did you think I was paying for everything since I parted ways with Hell?”

“I never gave it a thought, I guess.”

“I’m going to get to my chores as soon as I finish my coffee.” Crowley started to leave.

“Crowley?”

“Yeah?”

“What . . . happened last night at the club?”

“Frenzy. I hadn’t been around that much lust since Roman bathhouses and it got to me.”

“Oh.”

The demon slipped out without further explanation. Aziraphale looked out the bedroom door long after he left, deep in thought. That energy was incredible even if it appeared at exactly the wrong time, and Aziraphale was very intrigued, wanting so badly to experience it again. He wondered what Crowley’s thoughts on the subject would be, but he was hesitant to ask. What if the demon had been embarrassed about last night even if he hadn’t indicated he was? He was all-but-ready to perform sexual acts right there in front of an audience, and Aziraphale had never seen him behave like that before. What sort of button had been pushed to cause that reaction? Was it wise to want to push it again? Would Crowley want it pushed again?

For now, it might be best to just keep Crowley’s lust closer to normal levels.

Aziraphale zipped up the suitcase, putting it away back in the closet. The flat was dusty since Crowley wasn’t spending much time here. He had gone so far as to move the plants over to the bookshop, scattering them around where they would fit and hissing threats whenever he had a moment during watering. Since it looked as they were spending at least a few days here, Crowley had planned to start cleaning the thin layer of dust off that had settled upon everything in his absence. Aziraphale pondered making that chore a little less boring. Yes, it would be very entertaining if he could think up something sexy to spice up the dullness of housework. A little brainstorming session and everything he needed was there on the bed, conjured from the bookshop flat’s bedroom, neatly lined up in a row as he smiled down at it in satisfaction.

“Crowley! Come here and be female-presenting!”

She appeared a minute or two later, long red hair perfectly done in waves and wearing a t-shirt and jeans that would have been unisex had they not been stretched tight across her breasts and hips. Crowley knew how to play this game very well. Aziraphale was convinced sometimes it was a smug way of showing him up as Crowley did so like to shoehorn in a little topping from the bottom at times. This could be another attempt to turn him on, to get to the exciting stuff faster in case he had decided to do some foreplay designed to make her wait. She smiled at him, her eyes hooded so that the expression in them was hard to read.

“Feeling like some fun? I want to make sure after last night’s debacle.”

“Yes, I’m fine, angel.”

“Get undressed.”

Her clothes were gone in an instant, Crowley standing at the foot of the bed with long loose waves of hair curling enticingly around her small breasts, their nipples hardening in the chill of the air as Aziraphale’s eyes were drawn down to gaze upon the sight purposely designed to attract his attention. Little minx. He tore his gaze away to pick up the black corset off the bed, holding it up for her to see. It was quite a lovely piece embroidered with red roses and cut so it fitted right below the breasts, putting them on display for him. He loved Crowley in all her forms, he discovered, after being afraid that he'd only loved male-presenting Crowley since he had never been attracted to anyone who wasn’t. But it was different with the genderfluid demon. It wasn’t the form that mattered so much, per se, it was the demonic spirit who happened to reside in that form.

Aziraphale approached to wrap the black silk garment around her waist, miracling it mostly laced before he had her grab on to the door frame while he pulled the strings tight. She gasped, fingernails almost digging unnaturally into the wood as the boned corset tightened around her ribcage making it difficult to draw breath.

“I’d like to breathe, Aziraphale.”

“We don’t require that function.”

“Let me rephrase that. I’d like to be able to pass air over my vocal cords so I can speak, Aziraphale.”

“You seem to be doing that just fine. Now hush, or I’ll get out the ball gag. Go to the bed and bend over.”

She obliged and soon felt his hands caressing her bum, scratching slightly along the top where such sensations made her writhe in desire before she felt the cold metal of her butt plug pressing against her entrance. Soft moans escaped her lips while he pushed it in deep enough it would not fall out, the weight of it settling inside in her in a way that ensured she would not soon forget its existence. Aziraphale was near her head now and she turned to be able to look at him out of at least one serpentine eye.

“I pondered a dild* as well, but that would mean messing around with a harness or the like to keep it in place.”

“You keep threatening me with one of those but never follow through.”

“Do you want me to?”

She heard the click a split second before she felt the dild* harness running between her legs and around her waist, and the rigid feel of the dild* up inside her, stretching her out and making her feel even fuller than she did with only the butt plug. But Aziraphale was not finished. She noticed he was holding a small box which he pressed a button on as a knowing smile crossed his cherubic face. The buzzing that resulted almost made her collapse off the side of the bed, her fingers clawing for purchase. That bastard had inserted a remote control vibrator.

Aziraphale chuckled softly. “Ask and you shall receive. Don’t you have chores to do?” Then remembering what he had missed, he grabbed her arm as she stood up. Scooping up the nipple clamps, he applied them to her erect nubs then brushed the bells attached to them with a soft jingling chime. “I’ll be reading, so it will be helpful to know where you are if I need you.”

Her cheeks reddened as she answered him. “I hate you.”

After spitting that out, she gingerly left the room, having enough equipment on and in her body to arouse her if she wasn’t careful with her movements.

Aziraphale listened to her jingle her way to the living room before hitting the button on the remote control again. The chiming of the nipple bells combined with her moans as the vibrator started up again was most definitely music to his ears. Feeling pleased with himself, he headed out to sit down with a good book or two while she finished up the housework. He had the smug feeling she would be begging for release within the hour.

Unfortunately for Aziraphale, Crowley was more stoic than he gave her credit for, getting through the much-needed dusting of the living room and bedroom while he capriciously pushed the button on the remote control, or took a break from reading to play with her nipples, now over-sensitive to his touch after an extended time being squeezed by the gentle clamps. He had her nearly on her knees between the clamps and the vibrator right now but she was not giving in. Not a word of begging escaped her lips and to be quite frank, it was rather annoying him. He grabbed her hair at the nape of her neck, which always turned her into putty in his hands, then pulled off the harness with the other one, exposing her cl*t to him. The vibrator hit the living room floor with a thud as his finger rubbed circles around it and he felt her become even wetter if that was possible. His arm on hers, he felt the tremors coursing through her and looked up to see the tears forming in her eyes. A sigh pushed its way past his lips.

“Let go, Crowley. Just let go. What are you trying to prove?”

“That I can do this,” she replied through clenched teeth.

“Do what? Resist me? That’s not the point, my dear serpent.”

With a small miracle, they were on the bed. Undoing his trousers, he pulled himself on top of her prone form, kissing along her neckline before hitting her lips with a passionate one as he entered her, starting off soft but swiftly building up speed in her warm slick tunnel as her desires bled over on to him. One finger down between her legs rubbing her cl*t until she could stand it no more, he thrust roughly into her as she screamed out several org*sms in quick succession and he emptied the physical manifestation of his own org*sm into her c*nt. The plug had made it very tight, cutting his chances of actually lasting, even though that wasn’t the goal. He wanted her to come, to give up her resistance and do exactly as he wished. Aziraphale was determined to banish this stubborn streak of hers. He came as she did one last time, shouting out his pleasure with hers. While using a miracle to clean up the liquid that ended up on the bedding, he got an idea.

The vibrator appeared in his hand. Crowley noticed and tried to roll out of bed before he could catch her. A snap of his fingers prevented that; she was now bound to the bed wrist and ankle much to her annoyance, everything on display and begging him to use it to teach her a lesson. Turning the vibrator on, he applied it first to her cl*t while she writhed against it helplessly, panting and moaning as another org*sm hit her before he inserted it into her slit to see if that would make her come as well. She was sensitive enough he counted off a third climax in no time flat. Alternating between c*nt and cl*t, fingers and vibrator, he turned her into a shaking mess of ruined demon sobbing good tears on the pillow under her head.

“We’re done, my dear. I promise we’re done, but you needed that lesson. You do not suppress your org*sms, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” she choked out.

“Good girl. Now let’s get you into the shower. We’ll do some aftercare there, then we’ll go get some lunch. I presume you worked up an appetite after all that.”

“I think you’re right, sir.”

He laughed and as they made for the bathroom, wondered how long this obedient streak would last. It was Crowley and Crowley had to be Crowley. Eventually, she’d be back to her old tricks and not listening to him at times even if she tried her best. But he loved her all the same, knowing deep down she really did want to behave because she loved him in return. That alone made the dynamic worthwhile.

Chapter 12: Getaway

Chapter Text

Aziraphale took Crowley’s advice and didn’t hide the fact that they were looking into a holiday, going to travel agencies for brochures while Crowley looked up airfares and ordered plane tickets online in full view of anyone from Heaven who might be keeping an eye on them. Aziraphale didn’t understand his motivations, but Crowley assured him that it was very possible that showing they knew might escalate any plans Heaven might be forming before they had their own plans in place to counter them.

“But we don’t even know what they’re up to in the first place,” said Aziraphale.

“I know, but eventually they’ll show enough of their hand for us to act.”

So they made their actions to leave for a while clear to any angel watching. Now after a long plane ride across the Atlantic and a short boat trip from the shore to Crowley’s island, they were finally able to miracle up some real privacy and settle in knowing that at least for as long as they wanted to stay, not even the Archangels above could spy on them. Aziraphale looked around, recovering from his surprise that Crowley could drive a boat. The island was beautiful. Three sides of it were covered in palm trees that screened out the world while the fourth was a white sand beach with an endless view of the beautiful blue ocean found down here. The bungalow on the property was constructed of logs and sported a covering of palm leaf thatch over its real roof for an authentic look. The veranda that wrapped around it looked like a very inviting place to read a book while listening to the waves wash up on the sands out beyond the house itself.

“I hid out from Hell here sometimes,” said Crowley with a shrug.

“So that’s where you went when you disappeared for months at a time. It’s gorgeous.”

“All the modern amenities inside. I think you’ll enjoy staying here.”

Crowley hauled their luggage up from the dock to the biggest of the two bedrooms the place boasted. Aziraphale was a little disappointed to see there was only the one bathroom down the hall instead of one attached to the master bedroom. That was one of the features he so enjoyed in Crowley’s flat. It was wonderful to get out of bed and not have to trudge down the hallway to take a nice hot shower. He admonished himself for complaining. They were out of the cold foggy weather of London for a spell and he planned on enjoying every bit of sun and surf that he could. He knew Crowley would be out there soaking up the sun, claiming that it was because he was formerly a snake, although Aziraphale knew better. Demons were not cold-blooded, even if they happened to take on the form of a snake on occasion and were forced to carry some of that form’s traits thanks to an unfortunate incident involving a piece of fruit.

Aziraphale turned to give Crowley kisses for bringing in the luggage, the two standing in the living room holding one another for the first time since they left London all those hours ago. Crowley nuzzled into Aziraphale’s blond curls breathing in the sweet scent of his shampoo while Aziraphale stroked Crowley’s back, which was damp with sweat from the Caribbean sun. This hot weather was going to take some getting used to. Despite the heat, Crowley pulled him in closer.

“This is nice. Missed this.”

Aziraphale laughed. “You silly demon. It’s only been a matter of hours and you act like it’s been days.”

But he allowed Crowley to continue to snuggle in despite the heat. They had air conditioning, which was a novel thing to Aziraphale, and Crowley had explained it would keep the air cool in the house so they didn’t always have to feel the heat if they didn’t desire it. Such concepts humans came up with! They continued to amaze him after all this time.

“You won’t get chilled here. I ought to hide all your clothes and you can run around naked,” suggested Aziraphale a playful look in his eye.

“Mmm, think of the fun we can have at the beach. In the water.”

“I was thinking about all the breakfasts in bed you’re going to be serving me.”

“Then what’s the point of having me naked twenty-four seven if you’re not going to use me?”

Crowley began playing a bit unfairly now, rubbing his hips up against Aziraphale’s, pulling out of his nuzzle to give the angel a seductive look. Long fingers ran down Aziraphale’s sides, wanting to burrow in past the waistcoat and shirt to feel the soft skin beneath. Teeth nipped at Aziraphale’s earlobe and Crowley enjoyed hearing the hummed response from him. Aziraphale’s hands were hiking up his shirt, tracing along his shoulder blades and scratching where his wings would emerge if he chose to unfurl them into the physical world.

“You need to get rid of your shirt. You’re awfully sweaty, my dear.”

Crowley put his arms up so Aziraphale could pull it over his head. It landed on the floor.

“What about you? You look hot in what you’re wearing.”

“I did pack some of those shorts humans use to swim in. Maybe I should put them on.”

“Where’s the fun in that? We can go swim naked if we want. Nobody can see us.”

“Hmm, I guess I do now see the appeal of you swimming out there naked, available to me if I wish.”

Crowley grinned in return. “What are we waiting for?”

Not much, it turned out, as Crowley found himself out in the surf without so much as the skimpiest of swimwear to cover himself with while Aziraphale wore not only a pair of blue shorts covered in flowers but a white shirt as well. This was decidedly unfair, although the water was quite refreshing, and it had been ages since he had done anything like swim. Crowley floated in the surf while Aziraphale was onshore making other plans Crowley was not privy to.

“What are you doing?”

“Come here and see.”

Crowley walked ashore to a pile of rope and a pondering Aziraphale staring thoughtfully at it, before turning that gaze to him. He eyed the rope, then the approaching surf, then Aziraphale. An eyebrow raised.

“You’re not . . .”

“Um-hm.”

“No.”

“I didn’t hear a safeword.” Aziraphale turned pleading eyes to him. “It’s not dangerous for us, Crowley and I’ll stop if you safeword, you know that. You don’t need to breathe if the waves wash over you and I’ll be with you the whole time.”

“Why do you do this to me?”

“Because you enjoy it.”

Taking up the rope, Aziraphale bound Crowley’s arms, winding it around them from shoulder to wrist, being careful to keep it off of areas with nerves and places where it would put too much pressure on Crowley’s joints. Knotting it off at the wrists, he stepped back to look at his work. It seemed good enough to hold for what he was planning on doing, he then helped Crowley down flat on a towel that appeared when needed. Crowley found himself laying stomach against the sand, head facing the bungalow, the heat of the sun on his back. Aziraphale stood above him enjoying the sight of his helpless partner as he prepared to start the scene. The first wave hit before he even started to act, soaking Crowley and leaving him sputtering in its wake. Aziraphale raised an eyebrow to see him surprised by the force of the water washing over him. He writhed in his bonds, unable to get loose without cheating.

“We’d better get to it. The tide’s coming in.”

Aziraphale was on his back, sitting on Crowley’s arse where he could scratch along Crowley’s sides with his nails, starting up near his shoulders and leaving red trails down to his hips and over the small of his back where Aziraphale brushed fingers over Crowley’s tied hands. Crowley loved sensual play, the sheer feel of Aziraphale’s hands on him enough to turn him on. They had experimented with quite a bit, finding he loved various textures against certain parts of his body. Scratching was best done on his back and sides. Aziraphale paused a moment as a wave came in for if he kept up the sensual touch, he risked Crowley gasping from the response at the wrong time and taking in water. They had only begun their play; it would be awful to have to end it because Crowley gulped down a mouthful of seawater.

“How’s that, my dear? Not only am I touching you, but the waves keep coming up over your body and the sun’s warmth is on your back. How is that for sensation?”

“Good,” whispered Crowley.

Aziraphale reached between his bound arms to scratch between his shoulder blades causing Crowley to wiggle on the wet towel, scrunching it up as he did.

“Careful. That towel’s between your head and the sand. Do you want a face full of wet sand?”

They heard the water start to rush in again, this time Aziraphale grasping Crowley by the hair and pushing his face down against the wet towel as Crowley instinctively struggled against him.

“Hold your breath.”

The waves washed over them and receded, Crowley pulling his head up again with a gasp, drooling out what little managed to get in before he had managed to draw in a breath to hold. Adrenaline flooded through him, firing every synapse in his brain, making whatever Aziraphale was doing to him seem that much stronger. Fingernails trailed down his sides again, leaving a wonderful feeling of fiery desire in their path. Crowley’s head lifted off the wet towel, a keening sound coming from his throat that almost surprised Aziraphale so much he almost toppled off Crowley’s back.

“That good, huh? Here comes the water.”

And Crowley found his head beneath the waves again, the rushing sound of it flowing over him before retreating, leaving him feeling raw.

“Oh . . . Go- . . . Aziraphale!”

“One more time, my dear.”

“Please, last one? I can’t take the feelings. Too strong now.”

And he couldn’t discuss it any further as the water closed in around his head.

“All done, my dear.”

They moved up the sand with a thought, the tide now only lapping at Crowley’s toes. Aziraphale was laying flat on his back as naked as he was, every inch of tantalizing skin on his back and legs. Crowley could not stand it, panting in his desire into the now-dry towel. He could feel Aziraphale’s weight shift and the angel sat up, leaving Crowley’s back exposed to the sun but his arse open for play. The angel’s hands caressed along it, questing fingers pressing between his cheeks without coming close to Crowley’s entrance. He cried out in his frustration, struggling against the rope that bound him.

“You want it, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Aziraphale shifted one more time and Crowley felt his co*ck stretching him out and rubbing shy of the right places. That tease, Crowley thought, but there was little he could do about it. It was not his place to complain about what Aziraphale chose to give him. It seemed like an eternity before Aziraphale was fully inside him and when he was, he stayed there still, holding Crowley and petting his damp red hair before continuing. With a surprised squawk, Crowley felt him pull out then slide quickly back in. And again. And again. The firm thrusts vibrated through his body, pushing him closer and closer to the edge before Aziraphale stopped.

“No, Crowley. You didn’t ask.”

Crowley whined, unable to make any sound more intelligible than that.

Aziraphale began again, softer this time, lovingly leaning forward to kiss the nape of his neck and nibble along his ears, murmuring encouragement now that his need to be rough had passed. Crowley’s desire built slowly now in tandem with Aziraphale’s. He bloomed under the kisses, the frenzy calming into a more mature need to have his partner make love to him in place of roughly thrusting in him until he could take no more. Turning his head, he begged for kisses on the lips and found he was now laying on his back with his arms at his sides in a secure tie. Aziraphale was above him smiling down, running a hand down his temple before leaning forward to kiss him deep on the lips, tongue entering his mouth. Crowley moaned into Aziraphale’s in return, feeling the need build again on a gentler level, growing as he felt Aziraphale’s need grow as well.

“Please, sir. I want to come. Need to come.” The words were out as soon as the kiss was over.

“You’ve been so good, my darling serpent. You deserve this.”

They wrapped around each other as they came, feeling it on a metaphysical level as their spirits merged, forming one loving entity for mere moments before separating reluctant to rejoin their physical bodies with a soft landing, the love still enveloping them. Aziraphale lay on top of Crowley, the ropes gone so he could embrace his angel, his dom, the love of his life. The sun travelled from midday to well into the afternoon as they lay on the sand, touching, kissing allowing themselves and each other to calm down, and at times, entering a state of light dozing. This is what it meant to be on holiday.

“I’m never leaving here,” murmured Aziraphale.

“I wouldn’t object to that, but we should get inside. I can make us some dinner.”

“Sounds good, but you’re not putting clothes on. I want to be able to gaze upon that tight bottom of yours.”

“Whatever you wish, sir.”

Crowley pulled Aziraphale to his feet and bent to pick up the blanket. He shook it out before throwing it over his arm and offering his other one to his angel. Aziraphale smiled as he took it and looked around at the palm trees blowing in the slight breeze one last time for the day before walking back to the bungalow with Crowley. He settled down on the modern couch in the living room with a book while Crowley worked in the open kitchen, wearing nothing but an apron. Every so often Aziraphale would look up from his book, sneaking a peek at his demon and quite enjoying the view.

Chapter 13: Paradise Interrupted

Chapter Text

“Your tea, Aziraphale.” Crowley brought in a tray containing everything Aziraphale needed for a perfect cuppa, then knelt on the floor on a pillow waiting in case Aziraphale needed anything else.

“Thank you, my dear. It’s wonderful, like always.” Aziraphale leaned over to give him the first kiss of the day. “What do you think for breakfast? Want to try pancakes again?”

“I need a lot more practice.”

“Exactly! Which is why we should keep at it. Both of us.”

“All right.”

Crowley sounded rather dubious about this, but he waited while Aziraphale finished his tea then cleared it away while Aziraphale got himself out of bed. The angel found him in the kitchen washing out the teacup he used then setting it aside for later cups of tea. Wrapping his arms around his love, Aziraphale left a playful kiss on his cheek. Crowley turned to smile over his bare shoulder at him feeling Aziraphale reach down to pinch at his bum before going to grab an apron. Crowley already was wearing a black one and not much else. Aziraphale was dressed in his usual celestial blue pyjamas, only in a lighter material more appropriate for a warmer climate.

“Are you fine like that, Crowley? Not too chilled?”

“No, it’s warm enough in here.”

He was getting out a frying-pan to cook the pancakes in, then reaching for the cookbook kept stashed in a cupboard to the right of the cooker. Flipping through it, he found a recipe, scanning it quickly.

“Ok, flour, baking powder, sugar, milk, eggs . . .” his voice trailed off.

Aziraphale was at the fridge gathering the milk and eggs. Crowley headed to the pantry for the dry ingredients. Together they measured and mixed until Aziraphale cracked an egg wrong, dropping it on the floor.

“Don’t worry, I’ll . . .” Crowley started to head for the sink where there was a wash cloth to clean up the mess.

Slipping on egg white he didn’t see spreading on the tile near him, Crowley went down, desperately grabbing for purchase and accidentally taking the bag of flour with him. He landed in a large puff of white powder, the flour gently falling around him like snow. Above, Aziraphale broke into uncontrollable laughter as Crowley looked hurt and indignant after he pulled the nearly empty bag of flour off the left side of his face where it landed. A pile of the stuff lay on his collarbone. He brushed it off as Aziraphale continued to laugh until tears came to his eyes, looking at Crowley laying among the mess.

“I apologize, my dear, but you should see yourself,” he said when he could get control of himself again. “I can’t see a lick of red in your hair and they weren’t wearing that much powder at Louis XIV’s court.”

“Great, angel. Really great. I think I broke something. Not sure what, but I’ll let you know.”

Aziraphale knelt down to help him up, brushing as much flour off of Crowley as possible. “No, no bones broken, but I took care of a sprain for you. Come. Let’s get you to the shower.”

He pulled Crowley up to a sitting position, the demon close him, nearly naked and with a lot of flour-covered skin touching Aziraphale’s, hot against his chest and arms. A pair of golden eyes looked out of a pure white face at him, still a little shocked from the initial fall. Aziraphale brushed a few locks of hair out of his face, transferring some flour to his own hand. He smiled at his partner, who managed to grin back at him, creating crinkles in the white clinging to the skin around his mouth.

“Oh, Crowley.”

That smile. That completely helpless look Crowley was giving him as they sat in the middle of a large mess on the kitchen floor was too endearing and Aziraphale was too in love to pass up any opportunity to show Crowley exactly how in love he was with him. Reaching forward, Aziraphale captured his lips in a kiss, long and full. His tongue licked at Crowley’s lips until he opened his mouth and then poked inside, touching his teeth before moving on to touch the tip with Crowley’s own preternaturally long tongue. He felt the demon’s hands on the back of his neck, moving down towards his shoulders and probably leaving a trail of flour in their wake but Aziraphale didn’t care. A little flour wasn’t going to hurt the moment.

He laid Crowley back, conjuring up a pillow for his head and a blanket to keep him off the chilly tile, ignoring the mess they were now laying in. Aziraphale threw his pyjama top to the side, working to get out of his bottoms while Crowley removed the apron he was wearing, He reached up, planting his hands on Aziraphale’s chest only to leave two white handprints there that he laughed at to see. Aziraphale didn’t care, instead choosing to kiss along Crowley’s chest where the apron had kept the flour at bay. His nipples lay exposed and free of any baking ingredients, begging Aziraphale to suck them. He gave them what they wanted, taking one in his mouth to kiss and nibble red while Crowley whined in desire before moving on to the next one that received only a bit of attention before he was drawn to the silver mark above it. Moving up, he licked tentatively over the silvery bite not expecting the reaction he received.

“Oh my God!” cried out Crowley, panting and whining as he did during org*sm, writhing beneath Aziraphale, overwhelmed by something as simple as a touch. “Aziraphale!”

“What was that?”

“It felt like I was struck by lightning then it travelled through my body . . . in a sexy way.” Crowley suddenly felt lame. “That’s the worse description ever, but I can’t . . . I’ll have to do it to you sometime, but not now. I want you.”

“I know, but when I’m ready. Remember? That’s how it works.”

“I know . . . sir.”

“You’d look wonderful with nipple piercings.”

“Did I hear you right? Did those words come out of your mouth?”

“Why not?” Aziraphale asked as he started up his caresses again. “It’s something to discuss later.”

His lips were back on Crowley’s before his hands started touching down below the demon’s thin waist. He traced along the crease of his thighs, up one side and down the other, ordering Crowley to quit wiggling while he worked. It was a lesson in following orders and holding still in the heat of the moment. Aziraphale had indulged Crowley a lot when it came to their kink but had not started much training with him beyond asking before org*sming, a few service and submission-oriented rituals and establishing punishments that worked without crossing into hard limits. He bent down, replacing his fingers with his tongue, licking along the sensitive areas as Crowley squeezed his eyes shut, his muscles rigid in his attempt to hold still for Aziraphale.

“That’s good. Keep it up.”

Moving lower to Crowley’s balls, he licked over them in a pattern like an infinity sign, covering every part of them before concentrating on the seam between them. He ran his tongue up it, leaving the demon gasping and wiggling minutely, but enough to catch Aziraphale’s attention. Aziraphale brought Crowley back to his task with a sharp rebuke. Still once again, Aziraphale gave his balls one last lick before kissing up the shaft of his co*ck to pull the head of it into his mouth to suck while Crowley bit his lip, but held perfectly still.

“You did that perfectly. I’m proud of you. Would you like me to use you?”

“Yes, please.”

“Please, what?”

“Please, sir. Use me.”

And Aziraphale did, joining with Crowley there in the mess on the floor, not caring where the flour ended up or that Crowley had managed to somehow pick up egg yolk in his hair. It didn’t matter where they expressed their love, it just mattered that they were able to do it freely without interference from Heaven or Hell. They could revel in it here on the kitchen floor, despite it being a cold hard surface that paled in comparison to the inviting bed down the hall. Or out in the sand. On the couch after dinner, if they so desired. Or in an old bookshop in London where they had had countless conversations while secretly pining after one another.

Yes, this was love and this was worth it. All those years of waiting, of being careful, of not wanting to get too close for fear of Head Offices finding out and here they were. Aziraphale was physically connected with his demon, watching him as he moved within him, looking tenderly on his beautiful face flush with his desires, his hands clinging on to Aziraphale’s shoulders to the point that the angel was sure he was going to discover marks later and loving him more than anything.

He reached down to grasp Crowley’s black rolled metal collar in his hands which was another source of amazement. This headstrong demon who had trouble with authority since he was Created, long before the “Start Time” button had been pushed, was willing to give up control to him, a mere Principality. Someone who never had much authority in the angelic hierarchy and never shown much aptitude in the area of leadership. Oh, they had their roadblocks to overcome — Crowley wasn’t perfect and neither was Aziraphale, but still, it worked.

“I love you,” he whispered to the panting demon. “Are you ready?”

Crowley nodded, beyond speech at this point.

They came together both physically and spiritually in a manner that neither could describe and never could whenever it happened. All they knew was it was theirs, it was unique among their kind and they treasured it as an expression of their love. In simple terms, it was beautiful. That was all that needed to be said.

“I love you, too, angel.”

They recovered for a while despite the uncomfortable hardness of the floor. Finally, able to move, the mess was miracled away and breakfast forgotten for now. They wandered out on to the veranda to sit themselves down and listen to the waves wash up upon the white sand beach. Aziraphale was dressed in the short-sleeved button-up shirts and beige shorts he was favouring out here. Crowley wore his collar. Aziraphale had been right — he had made himself open and vulnerable when he entered this relationship as a submissive. His choice not to dress was a physical manifestation of that. He was safe enough to bare it all to Aziraphale and did just that out here on the porch — seated between the angel’s legs on his pillow with his head laying in his lap while they enjoyed this small slice of Paradise on Earth.

~*~*~

Crowley felt like he was being yanked by a marionette’s strings as his body rose from the bed, dressed in a black t-shirt and shorts, walked out of the bungalow and halfway down the dock to where the privacy spell ended and stood still in front of the figure standing upon it. The moonlight shone off the Archangel’s suit giving it an ethereal glow as Crowley waited for Gabriel to speak. The demon’s lip curled up in distaste, but he could not control his own movements nor speak a word to his enemy. He was left vulnerable and afraid of what was going to happen to him next. To Aziraphale.

A finger moved on his left hand.

“Hmm, your consciousness is still able to fight just a touch,” said Gabriel. “We’re going to have to redose you.”

He pulled out a vial full of a yellow powder, opening it to sprinkle a bit on Crowley. The demon’s consciousness retreated completely into the back of his mind, walled off from control of his body, or even his very thoughts. He was terrified now. Gabriel could do whatever he wanted to him and Crowley knew what the mind of a righteous angel could justify in the name of keeping law and order.

“Tell me what you and Aziraphale have been up to.”

Having no choice, Crowley did, explaining everything about their private relationship and how Crowley was a submissive to Aziraphale. He felt completely violated as the words left his mouth without input from him. His skin wanted to crawl away off the dock into the water below to cleanse itself as he stared Gabriel in the eyes and told everything about him and Aziraphale that he wanted to keep to himself, save in his heart where nobody else could reach it. The Archangel’s eyes became hard, his mouth a tight line across his face as he tried to hide his outright disgust of the demon and his angel.

“Thank you, Crowley. You’ve been very helpful. I might need more information before we decide what to do about this situation,” Gabriel finally said. “But the modified demonsbane has been most helpful. We didn’t expect the usual effects, although you ripping Aziraphale apart would have solved our problem. But we were only able to steal half the information on how to breed the plant, so mistakes were going to be made. I think we’ve been quite successful given that setback. You may go. You will go back to bed, fall asleep and wake up not remembering this conversation happened.”

Crowley marched back into the bungalow, to the bed where he climbed back in, shaking it enough to rouse Aziraphale, who rolled over to caress him.

“Where have you been, my dear?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” mumbled Crowley. “Went for a walk.”

“I’m right here if you need a back massage or anything to get back to sleep. Good night, my dear. ”

Both the angel and demon fell back asleep, unaware of the sinister forced conversation that had happened minutes earlier.

Chapter 14: The Blue of the Ocean

Chapter Text

“Wake up, Crowley, you sleepyhead. It’s almost ten o’clock.” Aziraphale reached over to gently shake the snoring demon.

“Mmmm . . . no.” Crowley rolled over away from him, pulling the bedsheet up over his shoulders.

“Not even if I make it worth your while?” Aziraphale stroked along Crowley’s hip, running a finger down it over the sheets to his thigh.

“Tired.”

“Well, you were restless last night after you came back to bed.”

“Back to bed?”

“You said you had gone for a walk because you couldn’t sleep.”

“Don’t remember.” Crowley flopped over on him. “Do want you, though.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep some more? I didn’t realize how tired you were.”

“No. Fine. Want you.”

“Roll over on your back, then.”

“Missionary again?”

“No, I was thinking of giving you a blow j*b. You deserve it, my dear.”

Aziraphale held the power in the relationship and was willing to momentarily give it up so that Crowley could lay in bed receiving pleasure while not having to work to obtain it. org*sms were paid for with his submission and his service. He pleased Aziraphale, so Aziraphale gave him pleasure in return. Yet that made it all sound so blunt in a loving relationship where both had defined their roles as they saw fit and found that they meshed together perfectly, each getting what they desired from the other. Or maybe Crowley was overthinking it. He considered that bit of information, too, as he rolled over on his back and smiled at Aziraphale, who waited beside him, blond hair mussed by the night spent sleeping.

“You look like you’re deep in thought,” said Aziraphale as he pulled back the sheets, revealing Crowley in all his glory, things already starting to heat up below the waist.

“Maybe a bit. Want to take my mind off of it?”

He felt Aziraphale’s soft hand close around his co*ck and the touch of his thumb rubbing along the head, a small bead of liquid already forming from such a simple brush across it. Crowley sighed with happiness; it had been quite a while since he had been at the receiving end of anything other than Aziraphale’s co*ck up his arse, to put it indelicately. The feel of his hand caressing up and down his shaft was heaven. Funny how a seemingly silly thing could feel so exquisite after a long absence, but the feeling wasn’t to last before he hit a wall hard. It was not his place to be catered to like this. If he was laying more or less passively, it should be because he was offering himself to his dominant for his pleasure. Sex was about Aziraphale and Crowley received org*sms because he performed well. Rewards for a job done right, for pleasing Aziraphale.

“Stop thinking and enjoy it, my dear. This is how I decided to wake you up.”

“Oh, please drive the thoughts out of my pretty little head. I’m going to go mad if I keep up like this,” Crowley begged.

Aziraphale doubled his efforts and Crowley shuddered, wondering why something he could do himself felt so much better when it was Aziraphale’s hand. Crowley leaned into it, canting his hips so more was available for Aziraphale to stroke. The angel laughed, calling him a greedy one, his hand moving soft skin over the hardness beneath, Crowley panting in response. Changing it up, Aziraphale reached down to stroke his balls and along the crease of his thigh, bending down to put his mouth over the momentarily neglected shaft.

“Angel . . . Aziraphale . . .”

Crowley closed his eyes, tipping his head back again against the pillow and started to really enjoy Aziraphale’s mouth sucking hard on his co*ck, his tongue licking up and down the bottom of his co*ck on occasion before he returned to sucking. Crowley reached down to touch Aziraphale’s cheek, tickling along it until he reached blond curls that he could bury his hand in. Petting through them, he moaned again, resisting the urge to thrust up into the angel’s mouth, an action that would end his fun and earn him a scolding.

For his part, Aziraphale kept it simple, alternating sucking up and down Crowley’s shaft with licking along the underside and occasionally throwing in caresses along his inner thighs as he worked. It had been months since he had given a blow j*b and he realized how much he missed it, to the point he resolved to give Crowley more of them and not just as rewards. The demon deserved pleasure for pleasure’s sake, too, and while doing it the way they had been worked, they occasionally needed to take a step back just to enjoy one another. There would be little point to a romantic relationship otherwise.

This holiday had been worth it. Time away from London, away from prying eyes. He wondered how long they could stay as he felt Crowley jerk and turned his full attention back to him.

“I’m going to come, angel.”

Aziraphale nodded and took his mouth off. “Sorry, dear, but I’m just not in the mood to swallow before breakfast. Let’s do this by hand.”

Squirting some lube kept on the nightstand beside him into his hand, he took up Crowley again, stroking vigorously to get him where he needed to be, elegance be damned. He listened to the panting of his partner, feeling a spasm pass through his co*ck a second before Crowley coated his hands in thick warm liquid. He caressed down the demon’s side lovingly as he cleaned up the mess.

“There you go. You deserve that.”

“But what about you?”

“I’ll leave it up to you, but I’m fine if you just want to cuddle awhile. You can make it up to me later.”

They lay tangled in each other in silence, listening to the sound of the surf outside.

“I want to swim today,” said Crowley.

“Then we shall swim.”

Later after lunch, they both headed out to the white sand beach, Crowley carrying some towels for them in a basket. Two he laid out on the sand while Aziraphale conjured up a beach umbrella, just in case he wanted to read in the shade after taking a bit of a dip in the ocean.

Crowley was already out floating in the gentle waves while Aziraphale was still setting down his book and adjusting the umbrella. He squinted out across the brightness of the ocean to see Crowley’s red hair, made fiery by the sunlight, bob along in contrast to the blue of the water here. Making sure his book was safely out of harmful sunlight, Aziraphale walked down the beach to join him, waving at Crowley to get his attention. Crowley swam to the shallows then walked up to where Aziraphale stood looking down in the water as if he had never set foot in it.

“Have you ever swam?” he asked the angel.

“No. Never.”

“Six thousand years on Earth and you’ve never actually swam?”

“Why would I? We spent the first couple of thousand in dry areas then into lands where civilization had invented ways to bathe that didn’t involve getting into a lake or river. Not that we can’t miracle ourselves clean,” Aziraphale replied primly.

“C’mon. Get in, angel. I’ll teach you. Or at least hold you. That’ll be fun.”

“I don’t know, Crowley. I had planned to stay in the shallow areas. Maybe sit here where the waves wash up so I could stay cool while watching you.”

“Please, angel?” Crowley begged with everything he had. Aziraphale was amazed he could produce such human emotion in such inhuman eyes, especially now that the bright sunlight had caused those vertical pupils to shrink to nothing.

Taking Aziraphale’s hands, Crowley backed up, leading him from the shore into the shallows where the water licked around his calves. The angel’s sky blue eyes grew wide with apprehension, but Crowley gripped harder, assuring him that nothing was going to happen.

“It’s ok, angel. Just a bit of water. Not like you’ve never had a bath before. And I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The sand was soft beneath Aziraphale’s feet, the cool water was wonderful in contrast to the beating sun above and the firm grip of the demon he loved gave him courage. He walked forward by one step. Another followed as he looked in Crowley’s eyes and saw the encouragement there. Yes, the water was up to his knees now, he wasn’t feeling nervous and with one long step, he reached mid-thigh. Aziraphale felt more confident. He looked at the waves breaking against him and took enough steps he was up to his waist.

“There. Let’s just stay here a while, you and me,” said Crowley. His hands squeezed Aziraphale’s. “If you can manage to tame yourself a demon with an attitude problem, then you can learn to swim.”

They stood in the ocean together, two beings who had been here since the waters that filled it had been created, body against body, heads leaning on each other’s shoulders as Aziraphale allowed himself time to get used to the water’s depth. Crowley waited with him without encouraging him to go deeper yet. He was aware this had to go at the angel’s pace and when it came to Aziraphale, the impatient demon could show an incredible amount of it. Love made anything possible.

Something slithered past them, causing Aziraphale to jump. Crowley quickly shushed him, not wanting him to become concerned enough to want to leave the water. Nothing here would hurt them. Nothing would dare because Crowley was making sure of it. He put out signals on a level the sea life itself could understand. What swam by them was simply curious, not out to snack on angel for lunch.

“What was that? A sea snake?”

“No. There are no sea snakes in the Atlantic. Probably an eel. Don’t worry about it. Nothing around here is going to bite you or anything.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m very sure. I’d have words with anything that tried to attack you. Very strong words.”

Aziraphale reached up to kiss him. “Thank you, my love. I don’t know what to expect out here in the ocean.”

Crowley laughed. “You make it sound like we’re bobbing in water miles from shore in danger of a shark attack. We’re fine here. I made sure of it. Are you ready to head out further? If you get chest-deep, you can practice floating.”

Aziraphale sucked in a breath and blew it back out again. “Yes. Let’s do this.”

Crowley took a hold of both hands again and led him out deeper until the water reached to his nipples. Their feet still touched the soft sand below, but they were more buoyant now, floating slightly with each gentle roll that passed them on its way to break a few metres away before arriving at the shore as a full-fledged wave, complete with white cap. Aziraphale was chewing on his lip as he accustomed himself to each bob that happened as waves rolled in. Crowley again kept a tight hold on him, smiling reassuringly at him.

“You’re doing great. Are you comfortable with floating?”

“I believe so.”

Crowley let go of one hand and moved to Aziraphale’s side. “Now, push off with your feet and I’ll help hold you horizontal here.”

The blond head nodded and Aziraphale floundered a bit, not getting up to the surface where Crowley could grab him. He spluttered, spitting out the seawater he had almost drunk by accident.

“It’s ok. Try again.”

Crowley held one arm lower, ready to catch Aziraphale as he bounced off the seafloor. He managed to thrust his arm under the angel’s waist, pulling him to the surface where Aziraphale floated prone, arms out in front of him. He turned his head to give Crowley an excited grin.

“Like this?”

“Yes! Just like that.”

He lay across both Crowley’s arms now, supported by them, but somewhat floating on his own as he bobbed up and down with the rolls. It felt . . . well, it felt . . . serene. He didn’t expect that at all. His body was light, just like he felt in Heaven back in the early days before bodies were a thing and they all flitted around the place on white wings seemingly too delicate to do what was expected of them. He wondered if Crowley remembered those days and if such thoughts would make him sad. Or if he was indifferent to them since he seemed indifferent to Heaven as a concept and held most of its citizens in downright contempt. Did Crowley have any happy memories until they started making them together? Aziraphale shuddered before shutting down that line of thought. It didn’t matter now. He couldn’t change the past, but he could continue to build on what happy memories Crowley did possess.

“How are you doing?”

“This is more enjoyable than I thought it would be.”

“I’m going to try removing my hands to see if you can float alone. I’ll be right here.”

The angel nodded, preparing himself. Crowley put his arms down and Aziraphale floundered again, flailing his hands until Crowley caught them up, so he was floating mostly unsupported in front of him. Again they tried. And again. One more time. And one more time after that until one more time wasn’t needed because Aziraphale was buoyant on his own, Crowley floating in front of him, a proud smile on his face. So there they spent their afternoon, Aziraphale learning to float first on his stomach, then on his back, which seemed much easier, Crowley with him the entire time showing him how with patience he’d never expect from him.

“So what do you think?” Crowley asked. “Shall we try actually teaching you to swim tomorrow or what?”

“Yes. I think we should. I’d like that very much.”

Together they headed up on shore to the warm towels that awaited them. Crowley spent the remaining portion of the afternoon sunning himself while Aziraphale sat under the umbrella engrossed in a book. Only when the sun began to sink below the horizon did they decide to head inside to decide what to attempt to cook for dinner. They decided on pasta, which came out a little more than al dente but that was easily correctable with a miracle. Sitting at the table talking and laughing together, they jokingly discussed staying here forever. They wouldn’t. They couldn’t. Both angel and demon had resided in London since it was but a small town struggling to grow along the Thames and their roots ran too deep. It was home and always would be.

Chapter 15: Slither

Chapter Text

The holiday had lasted a few weeks, but it was time to start winding it down, to think about heading back to London. Aziraphale missed his bookshop and Crowley missed the energy of the city. They had decided at breakfast to stay one more week, making it a full month they had sequestered themselves here on this peaceful island. It had done wonders for the anxiety Aziraphale had started to feel after discovering the spying miracle placed outside the bookshop. Crowley decided to try to convince him to take holidays more often. Six thousand years on Earth, but Aziraphale had really only gone where he had been sent, sticking mostly to wherever he considered home those first millennia, then the bookshop in more recent years.

Aziraphale was engrossed in his book this afternoon, giving Crowley time to himself that he spent sunbathing and swimming before returning to the cloudier climate of London. He remembered living near the Dead Sea and being able to float in the water to relax whenever the mood took him. There were times over the long years when he wished that he once again lived by a large body of water where he could swim. Yes, they would have to come back here. Aziraphale could read on the veranda and he could relax on the beach. Perfect.

Crowley entered the water and changed, turning himself into a snake from the waist down. Curiosity about how snakes moved in the water got the best of him and now he was slithering through the waves while stretching around enough to look at his own tail end. He slithered along the same as he would on land, only it seemed a bit clumsier and he wondered if it was his shape, or because he was also half-human right now. Pondering it, he decided to play with the shape of his snake half before going full-on snake. First, he flattened out his tail, turning it into a paddle. That gave him better manoeuvrability, but his body still didn’t feel shaped quite right for the water. He then tried flattening it horizontally but found then he only floated like a boat. Next came vertically so his serpentine portion was tall and thin. Now that worked. He could move through the water pretty well with it. Changing to a full snake, he could glide almost effortlessly, spending quite a bit of time under the waves like that, slithering his way through the waters exploring the flora and fauna further out than he had gone before. Colourful fish darted before him, wary of his strangeness. Sea snakes didn’t exist here.

Eventually looking at the sea life around him lost its appeal and he decided to return to his angel. Surfacing, he became half-human again, keeping the snake half for efficiency. Speeding back to their beach, he arrived to find Aziraphale on the shore, a hand over his brow to shield out the sun as he looked for Crowley.

“There you are, Crowley. Where have you been?”

“Just looking around.”

Aziraphale peering into the shallow waters thinking it odd Crowley was not standing up. “What are you doing?”

“Experimenting” Crowley pulled himself ashore with a grin. “See, a taller more vertical surface and paddle-like tail help me move through water easier. But on land, it’s more like this.”

He rounded out his body and returned his tail to the usual tapering point seen on land snakes. Aziraphale raised an eyebrow in question.

“Pretty fascinating, huh?”

“I guess? I’m sorry, my dear. I would find it more fascinating had I see you moving through the water. Perhaps later? Now, come along. I was thinking maybe it was time for dinner.”

“I’m not particularly hungry.”

“Did you swallow a fish or two out there?”

“No! I prefer mine cooked, thank you.”

They headed in, Crowley fully limbed once again, but with Aziraphale giving him thoughtful looks all the way up to the bungalow. Crowley gave him a puzzled glance back as they entered the front door and went to the kitchen to start dinner.

“What?” he asked.

“I don’t know. What’s the mythological version of a half-man, half-serpent called?”

“A naga. They’re divine beings in a handful of Eastern religions. Does this mean you’ll worship me?”

“You’re not a naga. You’re a demon who’s not bound by the laws of physics.” Aziraphale was peering in the perpetually stocked fridge. “Think we can cook something out of Caribbean cuisine?”

“No. We have barely mastered pancakes.” Crowley was flipping through a new cookbook that just appeared in the kitchen, looking over recipes. “This stuff looks complicated, angel. But here, the poulet aux noix sounds delicious. Should I conjure it up or do you actually want to try to cook it?”

Aziraphale was looking over his shoulder. “It does look scrumptious, but I think you’d better just miracle it up.”

Crowley took a sudden plate of steaming hot poulet aux noix to the table, which was already set because he was feeling too lazy to manually do the job. “Tea? Or a nice wine?”

“I think a nice French white would pair well with that.”

“I hope you’re right. This smells like a spicy dish.”

It was, but it was delicious all the same. Spicy food didn’t bother Crowley as much as it did Aziraphale, but the angel chalked it up to Crowley being a demon and used to all things hot. Crowley thought it was more likely that Aziraphale was pretty much a homebody, not straying far from his bookshop, which meant he stayed pretty much in England with the occasional excursion to the Continent. Europe was not packed with civilizations known to produce dishes full of heat and while flavourful, they did not compare in spice to anything produced on an island that grew some of the hottest peppers known to humanity. Amused, Crowley watched Aziraphale sweat as he ate it even though the conjured dish only touched on the spiciness Caribbean cooking could produce. The recipe Crowley scanned in the cookbook said to use a Scotch Bonnet, which was one of the hotter peppers out there and widely used in this area of the world. Crowley had taken the heat down to the level of a jalapeño.

“I liked it,” said Aziraphale as Crowley did the washing up the lazy way. “But I don’t know if I’d be able to eat it again. I guess I just don’t have the constitution for such spicy fare. And I should make you do the washing up by hand.”

“It’s still service, so I don’t know why you’re complaining. You don’t have to waste a miracle if I am.”

They stood together in the kitchen, Crowley flipping through the cookbook again out of curiosity. He was still wearing his apron despite not having spent one minute at the cooker. Aziraphale untied the strings then slipped it over his head, allowing it to fall from his fingers to the floor, leaving Crowley in just his collar. Crowley tossed the cookbook onto the nearby counter, Aziraphale wincing as the book landed with a thud.

“Was that necessary?”

“It didn’t hurt the book at all, don’t worry.”

Crowley was slightly taller than Aziraphale. The angel slipped a hand under his collar, pulling him down so that they were at eye level with each other. “I will let it pass this time, but you will not abuse a book again, understand?”

Crowley’s serpentine eyes stared at him in surprise for a moment before the demon’s gaze slipped off to the side. “Yes, sir.”

Aziraphale let go.

“That half-snake form of yours . . . do you . . . ?”

Aziraphale couldn’t bring himself to say it, which amused Crowley, who smirked. “Curious?”

“You might say that.”

“I can have whatever I want in that form. Did you know a lot of reptile species have two?”

“Well, I don’t need two. One does very nicely. But, why not play with forms?”

Crowley shifted once again, snake below the waist except for the very human genitalia on display between where his thighs would have been if he was in fully human form. Aziraphale looked him over, admiring his red belly scales before stepping over the coils filling the kitchen to examine the beautiful black ones covering the rest. He ran a hand over them, feeling how warm they were. Not being a true snake, Crowley wasn’t cold-blooded. Aziraphale circled back around.

“Will you fit in the bed?”

“I think we can make it work.”

He slithered off to miracle the bed bigger, Aziraphale in tow. Heaving his upper half on it, the coils followed, easily moving up on to the bed covers, circling around until Crowley was surrounded by his own body with room in the middle for Aziraphale. The angel climbed in to sit beside him, careful to stretch himself over the snake lengths as he positioned himself by his submissive. He looked around, chewing on his lower lip which was a sign he was thinking. Crowley simply watched him.

Undressing, Aziraphale instructed Crowley to lay down then straddled him as Crowley quirked an eyebrow.

“Oh, what do you have going on down there, angel?”

“I decided a vagin* was much easier to work with in this situation. Wrap your coils around me. Please just don’t constrict. I don’t think I can concentrate if you’re squeezing me.”

He lifted his arms as Crowley’s tail slithered around his waist, covering him in his lengths. They felt warm and soft, and Aziraphale stroked them carefully, feeling the slight bumpiness of the glossy black scales. They were beautiful and he was wrapped in their uniqueness — being embraced by his partner in a strange yet wonderful way. Caressing Crowley, he leaned forward to kiss him, feeling the snake part move with him both forward and with a slight wiggle as muscles moved to maintain the grip around his waist. The feel of scales on his bare skin was not something he could easily describe.

He didn’t remember much of the foreplay. There was the usual kissing, nibbling and touching, he assumed, and he did recall both of them upping the desire stakes by licking at each other’s love marks. He recalled Crowley tightening his coils gently as Aziraphale ran his tongue over his silvery bite then he recalled the musical keen that came out of his own mouth as Crowley took to mouthing over his own golden mark. During that time, he slid on to Crowley’s co*ck, but he couldn’t recall exactly when. He only knew they were both ready.

He ground down, pushing Crowley deep inside his c*nt, sliding back and forth not on human skin, but on long hard flat belly scales that, while smooth, did not have the same softness as skin. Their flatness posed a bit of a problem as well. Aziraphale found that no matter how hard he pushed down as he moved, he could not get a good angle to increase his pleasure at all. His cl*t remained relatively untouched, never able to do more than brush along the belly scales in a manner he found most frustrating. He cried out, shifting once again in hopes he could find the right tilt to his pelvis to make the contact he desired. Crowley noticed.

“Here, let me help.”

Aziraphale felt Crowley’s fingers slide between his labia, seeking out the small bundle of nerves that was the source of so much exasperation right now. Oh, blessed relief! Crowley knew exactly what to do with his long fingers and Aziraphale almost stilled his motions just to concentrate on the feel of them circling around, spreading wetness and teasing before seeking out their mark. It didn’t take the sensations long to build up to the point of explosion, Aziraphale crying out his first org*sm. He could feel his own wetness increase as he took in stimulation from both Crowley’s fingers and co*ck, pushing hard, feeling like the throbbing feeling localized between his thighs was never going to let up. Crowley stilled his fingers, allowing Aziraphale to recover, his panting calming, his movements less frenzied.

“Again, sir?”

“Yes.”

He felt Crowley’s gentle fingers start up their work again but it didn’t take long before he was grinding out another org*sm against Crowley’s co*ck, pinning the demon’s hand to his own belly scales with his mons pubis. A third was demanded before Aziraphale realized his own selfishness. Not only must Crowley’s hand ache by now, his fingers’ work bringing Aziraphale such pleasure — and getting caught between Aziraphale’s body and his own — but he had not received any org*sm of his own. Aziraphale shifted in the embrace of Crowley’s coils, running a hand along the side of his face.

“I’m sorry, love. I’ve been having all the fun myself. Would you like to come?”

“Yes, please. May I?”

And soon after Crowley raised his voice in unison with Aziraphale’s, embracing the angel in his coils as they both came.

“That was like the dish tonight,” commented Aziraphale after they had untangled themselves, cleaned up the mess and arranged their very different bodies the best they could on the bed. “Delicious and interesting, but probably something I don’t want to indulge in again.”

He lay within a nest of snake scales, cradled by the long shape of his partner. Crowley was petting his curls, giving a nod as he listened.

“Yeah, the logistics just aren’t good, are they? Unless you want to try anal next time? Or maybe I should have the vagin*? I don’t know. It’s not like it’s a shape built for human sex, that’s for sure.”

“I believe I would like to sleep on it before deciding if we do this again.”

“Literally?” asked Crowley as movement undulated through his lengths, jostling Aziraphale slightly.

The angel laughed at him. “Yes, literally. Good night, my dear.”

“Good night, sir.”

Aziraphale swore Crowley’s snore was a little more snakey that night.

Chapter 16: A Slight Modification

Chapter Text

Aziraphale and Crowley were both ready to return to their usual haunts in London and upset about having to leave behind this island paradise. They were in one of the airport car parks, Aziraphale climbing into the passenger seat while Crowley threw the last piece of luggage in the boot. Getting in after shutting it, he caressed the steering wheel in a loving gesture before pointing to the ignition so the Bentley started. Aziraphale waited as he had his moment. He had learned how important the car was to Crowley. With a grin spreading across Crowley’s face that told Aziraphale he missed driving it, they took off, the gate at the end where one paid for their parking raising without requiring payment. Crowley blew through and on to the streets.

“Crowley!”

“What?”

“You didn’t pay!”

“So?”

The demon looked confused about it like he didn’t realize there were times when he should simply act like a human and not use his powers to shape his immediate surroundings to his liking. Aziraphale let it go. He could explain it until the stars fell from the sky, but Crowley wasn’t going to understand why he needed to pay. The airport would not enter bankruptcy because he skipped out on parking fees as far as he was concerned.

“Turn on your headlights, it’s dark.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Would you go pick up some dinner? What they served on the plane left a lot to be desired. Takeaway sounds rather good right about now.”

“Sure. What do you want?”

“Italian from the little place over on . . . Warwick Street . . . I can’t recall its name.”

“Yeah, I know it. They do takeaway?”

“Oh, yes. They started last year during lockdown and it was so successful, they kept it.”

“Nice. What do you want?”

“Some of their goat cheese fazzoletti, grilled greens, the rosemary focaccia and the shorthorn rib eye. It’s enough for two if that sounds good to you . . .” Aziraphale gave him a pleading look which meant he really was craving this particular menu but wanted to make sure it was something that Crowley would enjoy as well.

“It sounds delicious, angel. I’ll get it ordered when we get to the bookshop. I assume it’ll take a while to get ready?”

“Probably half an hour or forty-five minutes.”

“Then I’ll drop off my suitcase at my flat, make sure everything’s all right there and go get it.”

~*~*~

“Hello, Crowley,” said Gabriel from the couch as Crowley opened the front door. “Did you have a good vacation?”

“Over here we call it a holiday, now get out. We want nothing to do with Heaven or Hell.”

“No, Crowley. You’re going to help me take down your boyfriend, remember?”

Crowley stiffened, feeling the same sensation — even if he didn’t know it — as on the dock where his mind retreated, giving up control of his body and thoughts to Gabriel. He fumed uselessly.

“You’re going to keep Aziraphale from leaving London again, understand? No more vacations. When the time comes to act, we’re not wasting time tracking you two down.”

“Yes, will do. Keep Aziraphale here.” Crowley’s voice was monotone. His arms were held slack at his sides and behind the sunglasses, the serpentine eyes were glassy.

“Now that we know both of your routines and usual places to hang out we won’t be bothering with spying spells and tailing that will only make you two nervous. Don’t think we didn’t notice Aziraphale shoved that spell away before you two left the country for a month.” Gabriel stood up. “You will only remember you need to convince Aziraphale it’s best to settle back down into old routines to let us think you don’t know we’re watching you. You won’t remember anything else about this meeting.”

He disappeared. After a minute, Crowley blinked and grabbed his suitcase by the handle to take to his bedroom, behaving as if he had not been interrupted the moment he shut the front door. Feeling very glad to be back, he stored his suitcase away, conjured the clothes it contained back to the cupboards and wardrobes where he kept them and did a walkthrough of every room in the flat. All seemed in order, but he assumed he’d still be spending most of his time at the bookshop. That seemed to be the default these days with Aziraphale still affected somewhat by being trapped here by a demonsbane-addled Crowley. It didn’t matter. This flat was the place where he stayed when he had nowhere else to go at the end of the night. The bookshop had become home.

A nagging feeling had him warding the place before he headed out, the ones Aziraphale had put on it were gone without him around to maintain them. They only lasted a maximum of a couple of months or so if they were abandoned. There. That action erased the strange tickle in his mind and Crowley drove off to collect their dinner. Walking into the restaurant, he gave his order number and was handed a couple of bags full of food in short order. Nodding his thanks as he left, he made his way back to the bookshop, the Bentley slowing filling with delicious scents as he drove recklessly through red lights.

“Angel!” he called as he walked in the door. “I’m back! Are we eating upstairs or down here?”

“Upstairs! I’ll be right there!” replied Aziraphale from somewhere in the bookshelves.

Crowley headed up without him, going to the kitchen to prepare everything so dinner was ready to serve when Aziraphale walked into the flat. Five minutes later plates and silverware were laid out along with boxes of takeaway. All that was needed was wine and Crowley was at the fridge deciding upon a bottle. Grabbing a favoured vintage of Aziraphale’s, he set it on the counter next to the wine glasses awaiting filling. Hearing Aziraphale on the stairs, he pulled the cork out and poured two glasses. Luckily this wasn’t a vintage that needed to breathe before being enjoyed. The wine glasses were set above the plates as Aziraphale opened the door.

Crowley came over to give him a kiss before he hung up his light-coloured frock coat beside Crowley’s darker one. He looked towards the kitchen and gave Crowley a caress through his red hair, a sign he was pleased with the work Crowley had done.

“Thank you, my dear. It smells wonderful.”

Crowley went to his spot to wait for Aziraphale to seat himself before he sat down as well. Serving was the same pattern — Aziraphale took his share of the food before Crowley helped himself. He waited until the angel took his first bite to begin eating, putting a bite in his mouth after Aziraphale was reaching for his second one.

The pasta was wonderful even though Crowley didn’t appreciate goat cheese that much, but the beef about melted in his mouth. Across the table, Aziraphale was enjoying it with much appreciation for a meal cooked by a professional chef. They had not eaten restaurant food in a month and it was obvious that Aziraphale missed that, but he was always a foodie, and on occasion, his love of it bordered on gluttony.

“This is delicious. I didn’t realize how much I missed London restaurant cuisine,” he said to Crowley. “You’re wearing too much.”

“It feels weird to have clothes on after spending almost the entire time there naked.”

Crowley had spent about ninety per cent of his time on the island in some state of undress, usually in nothing at all. Now, the tight jeans he had slipped on to fly home to London felt uncomfortable. His shirt rubbed the wrong way and the jacket had got stuffy while he waited those few minutes in the restaurant. Well, he had better get used to it. He couldn’t spend every minute of every day here in London wearing little to nothing. Still, he wiggled on his chair, wishing that his back wasn’t itching like mad right now. Aziraphale noticed with a laugh.

“Clothing giving you problems?”

“Yes.” Crowley sounded resentful.

“What have I done to you?”

“You have ruined me.”

“Eat your dinner. I have plans.”

Yes, Aziraphale did have plans. Crowley discovered that after having to wait over an hour while they finished eating then cleared up the mess that was left. Crowley put the last plate away as Aziraphale walked out into the living room. He joined him soon after, wondering what this grand plan was since Aziraphale was only sitting quietly on the couch waiting for him. Crowley sat beside him, laying back to put his head on his soft lap. He reached up to playfully tickle along Aziraphale’s cheek.

“So what’s this plan? Sit on the couch and do nothing tonight?”

“No. I was thinking more about what I said about piercing your nipples back on the island.”

“Not happening. I’m not getting them pierced nor will I ever step into one of those places that do them or tattoos”

“Yet you have a tattoo.”

“And I’m sort of stuck with that, aren’t I? The curse for playing my part in Eden wasn’t spending eternity crawling on my belly and eating dust. It was these damn snake features I can’t get rid of and that stupid tattoo.”

“Why did you never tell me that?”

“You never asked and I don’t like to talk about it.”

“All right. Back to the other subject, then. We could do it here because it is not like I couldn’t use a miracle or two to help me get it right.”

“Give me time to think here.”

Aziraphale wisely dropped it. Crowley shifted on his lap, facing more towards the door now than his partner, making Aziraphale feel guilty for going too far. Crowley was lying on his left side, the hated tattoo on his temple turned so Aziraphale could see it. Reaching out he touched it, tracing a finger over its shape, trailing it along the lengths and coils until he reached its head. Crowley didn’t respond, but he didn’t attempt to stop him, either. Instead, he let out a sigh.

“Is it all right that I do this? By the way, I think your tattoo is lovely.”

“How can you think that?”

“Didn’t you ever sit down to think about what it represents?”

“My part in that whole mess?”

“Free will. The path to where we are now.”

“Always looking on the bright side of things, aren’t you, Aziraphale?” Crowley rolled back over so he was looking into his angel’s sky blue eyes. “Ok, let’s do it. I admit the pain will be nice. I’ve turned into some kind of masoch*st, much to my annoyance. How are we doing this?”

“Well, since we don’t need to take the precautions humans do, I guess I could just conjure up a massage table and do it that way. I’ll use a miracle to keep you safe so I do not harm your body any, and I can heal it all up afterwards so you don’t have to spend months doing it the human way.”

Aziraphale was laying it on thick, so he must have really wanted to do this in Crowley’s estimation. Why the demon had no idea. The angel didn’t remotely seem the type interested in body modifications. He sat up so they could have a real conversation.

“Why the interest?”

“I’ve found I like the aesthetic. You’d look so rakish.”

Crowley gave him a dubious look for the use of that word. He snapped his fingers and a black massage table appeared in the living room. If they were going to do this, they were going to do it in style. Standing up, he started to remove his shirt, but Aziraphale didn’t watch like he usually did. Instead, he disappeared down the hallway. Crowley knew he was going to come back with supplies, making him wonder how long Aziraphale had been planning this. The angel did occasionally make use of the internet. He must have done some research into this before suggesting it. Crowley shook his head and sat on the massage table.

“Might as well take it all off. I prefer you unclothed in the flat.” Aziraphale called out to him over the creaking sound of him opening the steam trunk they stored their gear in.

“Fine.” Crowley wiggled out of his trousers and everything else.

Aziraphale was back several minutes later with everything needed and Crowley found himself lying back staring at the ceiling and question why he agreed to this insanity. He heard Aziraphale pull a side table over to set his gear on and found himself apprehensive about their play for the first time. Crowley tried not to think about it as his body reacted in various ways to the thought of pleasurable pain. Thinking ahead, he used a miracle to keep himself from getting hard when the pleasure of the piercing hit him. What was he doing?

Pleasing Aziraphale because that’s what you love to do. And a nice bit of pain to satisfy the masoch*stic side won’t be a bad thing.

“Ready?”

He nodded and Aziraphale swiped over one nipple with an alcohol wipe, leaving it cold and wet. Crowley watched as a blue glow appeared around Aziraphale’s hands and the needle he was now holding. Plunging it confidently into Crowley’s nipple, he pushed it out the other side. The demon bit his lip with a cry as the pain lanced through him like a streak of fire had been shot through that small part of his anatomy. The ring followed, and even though Aziraphale was careful, the movement of the needle left in his nipple while the ring was put into place stung, causing Crowley to whimper. Cool wetness followed by more pain shot through his other nipple and Crowley forgot about his miracle keeping the physical manifestation of desire at bay. He was fully at attention below the waist and Aziraphale’s chuckle let him know he had noticed. Crowley blushed, not quite comfortable with the fact that pleasure and pain were two sides of the same coin for him.

“And you wonder why I did it. Well, my dear, when I can do that to you. And they look lovely”

A feeling of warm well-being passed through Crowley as Aziraphale healed him up then admired his work. Climbing up on the table, he straddled his prone demon, reaching down to passionately kiss him, the very fact that Crowley had allowed him to perform such an action on him that seemed so out of character caused his love for and pride in his partner to bubble to the surface. He felt Crowley’s hands entangle themselves in his hair and his forked tongue press against Aziraphale’s more conventional one.

He didn’t even hear the massage table start to creak until it was too late and it came crashing to the floor with a bang jarring them both. It was more than capable of holding one or the other of them singly, but their combined weight was too much for its legs to bear. They laughed as they lay there at an angle, their feet above their heads. Checking to make sure there were no bumps or bruises, they stood up. Crowley vanished the table as he shot a sly look at Aziraphale.

“Shall we finish this in the bedroom?”

“I rather think we’re going to have to.”

And so they did.

Chapter 17: Talk Dirty to Me

Chapter Text

“I don’t understand it. Why do humans feel the need to talk dirty to each other during sex?” Aziraphale asked Crowley as they strolled along hitting antique markets in the area.

It was a nice day out. The weather continued to become warmer as spring pushed winter aside and while it didn’t compare to the tropical climate of a Caribbean island, it was a welcome change from the cold. They walked along arm-in-arm on the pavements, Aziraphale keeping an eye out for a shop that sold vintage items that had only recently opened in this block. He had wanted to visit it since he heard about its existence listening to a couple of customers converse as they looked over books in his bookshop, which they thankfully didn’t buy. Today had proved a good day to close up shop for the express purpose of heading out to look for it.

Crowley shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just one of those things. But it can be funny when someone blurts out the wrong thing while they’re having sex and it ruins the entire mood. It made my job easier, stuff like that.”

“That’s horrible, Crowley.”

“Sorry.”

Aziraphale pointed them to the left where the shop he was searching for was. Entering, he started browsing, wishing to add to his Regency silver snuffbox collection. Crowley was only one to peruse. An antiques market was basically just a trip down memory lane for him. One hand in a pocket, he browsed around, picking up items that held particular memories for him, turning them around with a smile on his face. Humans . . . such clever people they were for inventing all these gadgets that only became better over time. He would be forever thankful for the invention of the car for that got him off the backs of horses in a way that didn’t involve hitting the ground hard.

“Find anything?” he asked his partner.

A metre or so down the aisle, Aziraphale was looking over a rather nice example of a snuffbox that was a lucky find in a place like this. There wasn’t anything more than the usual wear and tear of use evident on its silver. He looked up at Crowley’s question, holding up the snuffbox.

“This one is in very good shape for its age and it’s practically a steal. I don’t think they know what they have here.”

“You’re not going to negotiate the price up again, are you? If you’re going to buy it, then buy it. It’s their loss if they can’t be bothered to appraise items.”

Aziraphale took it up to pay for, discreetly miracling some extra funds into the till which Crowley pointedly ignored while letting Aziraphale know just how pointedly he happened to be ignoring the angel’s actions. Aziraphale was never going to understand that he did not need to go around doing good deeds all the time. Nobody was keeping score for him any more. Taking the package, Crowley walked with him out the door back onto the pavement. He leaned in closer, threading his arm back through Aziraphale’s again as they wove in and out of native Londoners and the few tourists who decided to see the city before the busy season arrived.

“Anyway . . . do you want to see the point of dirty talk?” Crowley asked as they turned to walk back to the Bentley.

“I don’t really know . . . I don’t know if I’ll get it. I’m an angel and I know there is a lot about human culture I will never understand.”

“If you don’t, you don’t. Not like I’m going to hold it against you.”

“Well, all right, then.”

Crowley was up against his ear, his nose millimetres away from Aziraphale’s curls as his lips all but brushed along the top of his ear as Crowley spoke. Aziraphale tried to ignore that they were in public while touching so incredibly close and intimate.

“I’m going to speak freely now as if our dynamic isn’t in play,” whispered Crowley. “I’ll admit it. I do have a thing for blonds. Cute little blonds with plump arses I can grab hold of and just squeeze. Would you like that? Me grabbing hold of you, caressing along those curves of yours you have back there that just drive me crazy? I think about it a lot. I could worship your arse, angel. All night. What do you think of that?”

“Oh, my, Crowley . . .” Aziraphale was flushed from thinking about what Crowley said. “It’s meant to get one all hot and bothered?”

"Yeah, that's the point. Of course, people screw it up sometimes. You can’t be in bed with someone else and suddenly blurt out something stupid like . . . ummm . . . Wow! I guess you are a natural redhead. The curtains match the carpet! I got that a couple of times when presenting female before we were together. Brains turn off and mouths keep running, but what do you do? Well, leave, obviously. But sex with humans was only to spread lust, really. Had a job to do and it wasn’t always pleasant. I guess I was yours before I was yours.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

Aziraphale pondered the dirty talk as he squeezed Crowley’s hand in a sign of appreciation. “You’re so . . . silver-tongued and I’m not.”

“So? Do you have to be? I love you as you are.”

“I love you, too.”

~*~*~

Back at the bookshop’s flat, they relaxed on the couch, Aziraphale doing his usual reading while Crowley lay against him, watching a film on the television he had convinced Aziraphale to allow him to have here so he could entertain himself while the angel read. Crowley was a reader of quick things — news articles and short stories. He could not concentrate on the long novels and works of non-fiction that attracted Aziraphale’s attention. But what they had arranged — this cuddling on the couch while indulging in their favourite activities together worked out nicely. Especially when sometimes close cuddling led to a bit of teasing.

“What if I told you that I wanted to blindfold and cuff you then have you give me a blow j*b. Is that dirty talk?” asked Aziraphale out of the blue.

“Yes, it is. I’ll admit it’s a bit clumsy, but don’t worry about that. If you want to learn dirty talk, then we’ll work on teaching you. And do you want me blindfolded, cuffed and taking care of your co*ck?”

“I don’t know. It was just an example. Not that a little fun would be a terrible thing. I am rather in the mood.” He reached over to take Crowley’s co*ck in one hand, sliding it up and down until he made the demon hard.

Crowley let out a slight whine, the sound he always made when he was in the beginning stages of getting turned on. “Please, Aziraphale? I want you.”

“I think I'll have you right here on this couch. Sit up.” Crowley obeyed and Aziraphale got up, looking down at Crowley. “Never mind. I’m craving impact play and that seems to work out better on the bed. It’s been a while since I’ve left welts on your bottom. I think it was before we pierced your nipples.”

He ran a hand over the silver rings, Crowley shivering with the sensation of it. The piercings had upped his sensitivity and both were enjoying it. Sometimes Aziraphale attached small weights to them, the light pulling was a feeling Crowley enjoyed but the demon wouldn’t allow anything beyond that. Clamps were off-limits now because they hurt in the wrong way and he had no interest in having a chain strung between them. But Aziraphale found them lovely the way they were and Crowley enjoyed the heightened pleasure he received from them.

Crowley found himself laid out on his stomach on the bed in Aziraphale’s small bedroom, hands bound above his head, a blindfold covering his eyes. He lay stretched out awaiting Aziraphale who was choosing the implement to use on him while giving a running commentary about it. Licking his lips in anticipation, Crowley listened as his desire heated up, making it very difficult for someone as impatient as he was to wait quietly as Aziraphale had commanded. He flexed his fingers and toes in an attempt to rid himself of nervous energy.

“I think a nice cane will do. I know you like a light sting from it and I want to hit around your legs, too. It’s so difficult to do that with a flogger.”

Crowley felt the first fall of the flexible cane across his arse, the impact kept light because he needed to be worked up to heavier hits. He hissed as he felt the sting travel through his flesh, but he didn’t have much time to process the minor pain before another stinging hit got him just above the first one. They were gentle taps coming fast and regular, hard for his mind to keep up with individually yet that didn’t matter. The stings melded together, releasing a feeling of well-being that flowed through his body. He felt himself harden as mental desire finally translated into physical and he moaned out how much each hit fanned the flames.

“Harder now.”

“All right. I’m ready.”

He braced himself for medium hits that would leave red marks across his legs and arse, crying out with the pain as he felt a few drops of wetness seep from his erection into the quilt he lay upon. Up and down his legs Aziraphale wandered, laying the cane out across portions of skin that remained unmarked. Crowley couldn’t handle being hit too much in one area and Aziraphale did his best to respect that although both understood impact play could be a slightly inexact science and aims weren’t always perfect. Besides, there was something about seeing a regular pattern of stripes across Crowley’s anatomy after Aziraphale was done beating him. He stopped a moment to check out his work, running his hands over the marks while Crowley writhed beneath him, moaning.

“Shh, you’re doing so wonderful. Everything is nice and red. Would you like more caning or is it time to move on to something else?”

Crowley turned his blindfolded face towards the sound of Aziraphale’s voice. “Please, sir. I want you.”

“Maybe we should move on.”

He inserted two fingers inside him, curling them towards his public bone to rub the right areas. Crowley gasped with a hard buck, hissing apologies afterwards for having such a blunt reaction. Aziraphale soothed him as he kept up his work, telling him it was ok since he didn’t expect it and literally couldn’t see it coming.

“Is this what you want? Do you like it when I stroke you like this?”

“Yessss.”

“But you want more, don’t you?”

“Want your co*ck in me, sir. Please?”

“Very well.”

Crowley had a hard time holding still as Aziraphale entered him quickly sliding his entire length inside, his hips pressing against welted skin, Crowley’s whimpers reaching his ears. He made sure they were good sounds before continuing, remembering that a little pressure was good for the demon, but a lot would completely ruin the mood. They learned that lesson rather quickly after a session shut down quicker than if they were doused in cold water when Aziraphale unknowingly pressed too hard on a collection of welts across Crowley’s arse. Carefully he moved, minding those injuries. Still, he was content to go slow and allow them more than just a handful of frenzied thrusts before they both came dizzy and fast, their brains unable to comprehend the sudden screeching halt. It contributed to drop to be so reckless in sex after a good impact play session.

He loved and marvelled at the demon beneath him and the way he had given Aziraphale everything — mind, body and soul. His hereditary enemy who loved and trusted him above all else. He traced along the welts, feeling them like Braille and healing as he went, preparing them both for more aggressive sex. Crowley’s back arched his head tipping back at an angle only possible for one as unnaturally lithe as he was. Aziraphale could reach out right now and touch his hair without shifting positions. He stroked handfuls of it, telling Crowley he was going to pick up speed.

“Yesss, ssssir.”

“Oh, sweet serpent, I love you.”

Crowley responded something garbled, and Aziraphale assumed he told him he loved him in return. Then the angel thrust firmly.

Having his sense of sight cut off intensified everything for Crowley. Minus a sense, his body homed in on touch and hearing in particular, making him more aware of what Aziraphale was saying and doing to him. He felt the angel rub on his welts, sending minor pain through him followed by the gentle sensation of Aziraphale in his body, taking it slow. It was sweet torture, the promise of more to come at the same time his system was flooded with sensations both physical and mental. He moaned in response, wanting more. Waiting, wishing for it, but he knew he wouldn’t get it until Aziraphale told him he would. When he felt he could take no more, he sensed the healing of his welts and knew it was about to begin. Groaning, he begged with his body, pushing his arse in the air hoping his dominant would see fit to thrust hard within him, bringing them both to org*sm. He wasn’t disappointed.

They rode the feelings as long as they could, both coming almost at the same time, Crowley bursting forth first. Aziraphale came with a hand tangled in Crowley’s hair as the demon scrabbled at the sheets, his fingernails trying to dig in and hold on tight. Perfect. It was perfect and Crowley didn’t know how he had managed to go on so long without this kind of physical closeness with Aziraphale. It didn’t matter any more, he reminded himself as his bonds were removed and he was cradled in the arms of the one he loved. All that matter was they had it now.

Crowley opened an eye before they both went quiet for a long time. "You know, angel. That was some very good dirty talk for someone who doesn't know what he's doing."

Chapter 18: And the Sky Full of Stars

Chapter Text

Tonight Crowley was up on the roof even though it was brisk out, standing with his arms crossed against the wind while he looked up at the stars above, searching through them for the ones he helped create. Sometimes he missed being up there among them, creating more and adding to the lights spread across the galaxies. It seemed foolish because he wouldn’t have been creating them forever. They set up the initial stars and created nebulae to act as stellar nurseries to birth more stars. Angels would have other tasks once humanity came into being. Crowley didn’t last that long. By the time humanity had shown up, he was already part of the other side. And all he did was ask those rebelling a few questions. What was he supposed to do? The star makers spent long stretches of time in space creating. He returned to Heaven to find he had no idea what was going on. Of course, he was going to ask people what was happening.

“You’re upset again, aren’t you?”

He turned around to see Aziraphale standing behind him holding two mugs of cocoa. He took the one proffered to him with thanks. Aziraphale stood beside him looking up at the heavens, searching out the stars Crowley had told him he had made.

“I’m not upset.”

“You cannot stargaze without becoming upset, my dear. And your wings are out. Someone could see you, you know.”

“I made sure they’re not going to notice.” Crowley stared into the mug of cocoa.

“All those stars up there are part of a history you cannot return to nor do you wish to. Why do you let it bring out all these negative emotions?”

“Because those are my good memories of Heaven. The rest of it was dull enough to make you want to sleep for a thousand years or was a Rebellion I didn’t want to be a part of. Sometimes I want to return to the stars. I don’t know why. I just do.”

“Maybe because you do see that time as ideal?”

“Maybe. I should be content with the here and now. We got what we wanted out of all this.”

“It’s understandable. We all have times in our lives that we wish had never ended. But what do we do about it? Stars should not make you sad.”

“Dunno.”

“Would a trip up there help or is that just flirting with disaster? Would it be too much to handle?”

Crowley grasped the mug that was warming his hands a little more tightly. “I’ll have to think about it. Would you go with me?”

“Of course. Anything you want, my dear.”

“I’d love to show you what I made.”

“I’d love to see it. Come downstairs before you catch cold.”

Aziraphale retreated, leaving Crowley to decide when he would head back down. He continued to stare upwards towards his creations for a few more minutes. They twinkled against the blackness silently, unaware of the conflict they could create in one Fallen angel now exiled on Earth. Finally, Crowley headed to the stairs that lead down into the bookshop. He found Aziraphale curled up in his reading chair in the living room his mug of cocoa on the side table next to it. Crowley fell onto the old couch after setting his own cocoa on the same table. Aziraphale looked up at the sound of him hitting the velvet cushions and smiled.

“Have you thought about it?”

“We need to stay here. We just took a holiday. Too suspicious to leave again if they’re still watching us.”

“It’s an adventure we could do in a nighttime.” Aziraphale marked his place in the book and set it in his lap. “We transport up there to wherever you want to go, you show me your stars and we return home before dawn. What has got into you?”

“Nothing! Let’s not talk about it. How’re your investigations going?”

“Not good. I’ve hit several dead ends.” The angel paused, taking off the unneeded reading glasses that he only wore because they added to his aesthetic. “But I’d still like to talk about dealing with your anger over the past.”

“And you think it would help to get up there again?”

“Yes. Because we’re free to go and I think you’re proud of your work but have no one to show it to. But you can show it to me.”

“I said I’ll consider it.”

It was all Aziraphale could ask for. He opened his book, took out the bookmark and resumed reading. He had said what he could about the situation. The rest was now up to Crowley, who had curled up into a ball on the couch, his knees pulled up to his chest. Time ticked by as he sat still in that position while Aziraphale polished off two more chapters. Finally, he uncurled, looking over at his angel, who paused in his reading to give Crowley his full attention. The demon sighed.

“I’ll give it a shot. Tomorrow night.”

“Wonderful! I shall be delighted to see what you did before everything changed.”

~*~*~

The next night, they shot up into the sky on the wing, flying up a kilometre before transporting to the nebula Crowley was most proud of. The two appeared before it, floating in the weightlessness of space while enclosed inside a shield that would protect their human bodies from the radiation produced in deep space and warmed so that they wouldn’t feel the deathly cold of the spaces between stars. Crowley opened his mouth to speak, only to find that he couldn’t. Oh yeah, air. Air would be helpful if they wished for their vocal cords to be functional. In an instant, the bubble contained oxygen as well.

“There. Better,” he said. “There were about twenty of us that worked on this one.”

“It’s beautiful,” breathed Aziraphale, hands clasped as he took in the sight before him.

The nebula before them was painted in shades of gold and orange on a background of bright green that faded off into the darkness of space with the pinpoint lights of stars visible all around it. Inside were frozen clouds of dust, billowing across the entire nebula, the shadows and highlights of the light formed within it adding drama to the undefined shape of them. It was almost flower-like, except for one protrusion that looked like a hand with a finger beckoning to whoever was looking at it.

“Yeah, and temporary in the grand scheme of things.”

“What do you mean?”

“The stars created in it slowly destroy the nebula because the radiation they produce ionizes the gases here. The stellar winds from the new stars then blast away the ionized upper layers of the gases that make up the clouds. Cosmic erosion. That’s the Almighty’s way. Nothing lasts forever. Someday we’ll have to leave Earth. Billions of years from now, we’ll have to find our way into another universe if we wish to continue existing. Death is part of life, which wouldn’t be bad if we had immortal souls.”

Aziraphale floated close to him, caressing his cheek and impressed by Crowley’s cosmic knowledge. “I think we can worry about that at a later date.”

It felt strange to be floating here in space, no solid land beneath their feet. Aziraphale’s frock coat had a mind of its own, the hem of it curling up towards his waist and Crowley’s hair surrounded his head like a fiery halo made of many strands. He floated prone in the bubble while Aziraphale attempted to stay more upright despite there being no true directions in the middle of outer space. Reaching out, Aziraphale placed a kiss on Crowley’s lips, taking his head in his hands to steady them both. Crowley’s hands rose to grab Aziraphale’s shoulders for further stability. Other than the effects of zero-gravity, a kiss was a kiss. Crowley’s lips didn’t feel any different for kissing him in front of the nebula he had helped bring into being, at least physically. Mentally, it was quite an experience.

“It would be difficult to do anything out here,” murmured Aziraphale.

Crowley co*cked an eyebrow at him. “Sex in space? Yeah, quite difficult with nothing to brace ourselves against. We’d keep pushing each other away.”

Aziraphale thought about it a moment before snapping his fingers. They were in a spaceship of some kind now, standing on the floor as if gravity had returned. Above them was glassed off so they could still view the beautiful sights before them. “How’s that? We can do whatever we wish in here.”

“You really want to?”

“Yes. I do.”

There was a bed and Aziraphale sat on it, beckoning Crowley over. The demon shook his head with a look of amusem*nt crossing his handsome face, but joined him anyway, sitting close enough to wrap his arms around Aziraphale’s neck and burrow into his soft curls. Aziraphale slipped his hand under Crowley’s coat, putting one less layer between his hand and the demon’s skin. He stroked over the black material of Crowley’s shirt wishing his shoulder was bare beneath his touch. Swiftly he pulled the coat down and slipped his hand under Crowley’s shirt. Crowley raised his head to kiss Aziraphale again, a probing kiss that carried his long tongue deep into the angel’s mouth. He sought out Aziraphale’s tongue, wrapping his own around it while Aziraphale breathed out softly into Crowley’s mouth.

It wasn’t long before they both were wearing a lot less, Crowley kneeling before the bed worshipping Aziraphale before the nebula he had created. He was caressing and kissing his plump thighs, careful not to let any centimetre of skin go untouched. He was getting closer to his erection now as he sucked on the crease between it and Aziraphale’s leg, the angel moaning in response. The hand he had in Crowley’s hair stirred in excitement, winding its way closer to his scalp.

“That’s it, Crowley. You’ve done well, but I have an idea. Climb on the bed and get on your back.”

Once Crowley was on it, Aziraphale had him adjust himself so his head was hanging off the edge. Adjusting the height of the bed frame with a miracle or two, Aziraphale got it situation perfectly so that Crowley could suck him comfortably. Aziraphale clicked his fingers again to make everything perfect. Feet bound to the bed’s headboard, one hand was tied to his side by virtue of a rope around his waist while the other remained free. The bondage was completed with a ring gag that held Crowley’s mouth open.

“I’m going to use your mouth. It’s your job to masturbat* to give yourself an org*sm. Let’s see if you can concentrate on that task while I’m enjoying myself up here.”

“Uh,” said Crowley, unable to say much else.

Aziraphale inserted his co*ck, going slow and getting it wet enough to actually do proper oral with Crowley. Sliding in and out, he got it to the point where it was fairly well covered in Crowley’s saliva, meaning he was ready to shove it as far back into the demon’s throat as he could manage. He reminded him to get rid of his gag reflex before he thrust in, the ring brushing against the sides of his co*ck before it entered Crowley’s mouth where his tongue was positioned just right to create the correct amount of friction. Aziraphale put a hand on Crowley’s throat, feeling his co*ck bulge against the skin as he stilled his thrusts. He caressed the area a moment, marvelling at how he was now connected with his demon like this. Finally, he started up again, Crowley letting out a muffled moan whose tone bordered on tortured with longing.

“You’re not doing what I asked,” chided Aziraphale.

Immediately, Crowley’s free hand grasped around his co*ck, teasing the tip of it in order to encourage a bit of lube to release itself and make his job a bit easier. Carefully he pulled back the foreskin as he started stroking downward and once he accomplished that, started stroking with more speed. It was overwhelming. His hand stuttered to a stop once in a while, sometimes only reminded to start up again by a sharp rebuke from Aziraphale. Concentration was required to keep his tongue in the position that Aziraphale preferred when he deep throated him. It was like the sexual equivalent of attempting to rub your belly while patting your head and Crowley was proving uncoordinated.

“There you go,” encouraged Aziraphale. “Keep rubbing. You’re doing good. Press that tongue against me a bit harder. Crowley, you stopped rubbing. If you don’t stroke yourself, you don’t get an org*sm and I’m not going to allow you to give yourself one later.”

It felt so good, feeling not only his co*ck passing over Crowley’s tongue on its journey into his throat and back, but the helplessness of the demon trussed up on the bed before him. He was close now, the feeling building within him. “Prepare yourself, my dear. You’re going to swallow all of this.”

Crowley made a strangled noise around the gag as he finally made himself come seconds before he felt a salty warmth shoot down his throat. His eyes closed as his chest heaved with his org*sm and he let out a strangled mew as soon as Aziraphale removed his co*ck. The angel knelt before him to unbuckle the ring gag and give him plenty of praise that Crowley only partially heard. He was cocooned in a warm fuzzy feeling, barely reacting as Aziraphale cleaned up the mess, removed the bondage and shifted him so that his entire worn-out body was resting on the bed instead of his head hanging off of it.

“There you go. That was wonderful, Crowley. Did you enjoy it?”

Eyes still closed, Crowley nodded, reaching out to his angel, who climbed into bed with him. “I hope that adds to your good memories. I enjoyed doing this and seeing what you accomplished out here. It’s the most beautiful nebula. I’m going to take us back to our bedroom now.”

The nebula was once again alone, left to its task of birthing stars as it also brought about its own destruction by creating.

~*~*~

Crowley had gone to check his flat two days later to find Gabriel there waiting for him. Stuck in mind control mode, he could do nothing but listen to what Gabriel was ranting at him as the Archangel paced angrily. Breath coming heavy, Crowley was very much afraid for his own existence. Gabriel was furious and most certainly in the frame of mind to do anything to him.

“What did I tell you? You were not to leave London and you did.”

“It was for a few hours.” It wasn’t much of a protest, but it was the best Crowley could manage under the bad circ*mstances.

“I’m going to have to punish you for this. You’ll only remember it only as a bad nightmare but it’ll be one that’ll stick with you a while.”

Lightning crackled along Gabriel’s hands causing Crowley to whimper and wish more than anything he had the ability to flee Gabriel. That was watered-down smiting energy, but still enough to pack a punch. It would feel like Crowley was being flayed alive, something he never wanted to experience after the first time he was smote millennia ago when angels and demons ran into each other more on Earth. But he was rooted to the spot with no ability to run as Gabriel cruelly made him scream.

Chapter 19: Pampered Serpent

Chapter Text

“I’d swear it was real, angel,” Crowley said two days later when he once again awoke screaming thinking he was being smote by Gabriel for not following orders. “But why would Gabriel be giving me orders? I’m not an angel any more.”

Aziraphale held him close, Crowley almost sitting on his lap while they lay in bed, a soft dim light coming from the bedside table. He wiped an errant tear from Crowley’s cheek. “It’s probably a response to you working through your issues with your past, my dear. I know that it sounds impossible to do, but try not to put too much thought into such nightmares. You’re only going to make yourself more anxious. Do you need me to put you to sleep?”

“No. I’ll be fine. Let’s just snuggle.”

Laying down, Crowley backed himself up against Aziraphale, feeling the crisp fabric of his pyjamas against his back and legs. Aziraphale draped an arm around him, the other touching his back lightly. Settled back in and calm, he started to drift off to sleep, feeling safe under his partner’s protection. Aziraphale would watch over him and nothing else would bother him tonight as he slept. And he was right; no other dreams invaded his unconsciousness. He awoke the next morning in a much better mood.

Aziraphale grabbed his arm as he tried to slide out of bed to go make the angel’s tea. “Stay. You have a rough time of it last night. Just rest some more.”

Crowley wasn’t about to argue with that. Snuggling back in, he kissed his angel gratefully and dozed off once again, the bed covers pulled up to almost his chin. They both awoke again around two hours later as the sun rose higher in the sky and the birds sang, indicating it was mid-morning now. Aziraphale rolled over with a groan as a beam of sunlight had moved enough to shine across his face, bringing with it too much light for him to tolerate right now. Crowley, one golden eye open, hit the curtains with a demonic miracle, closing them more tightly before settling back down with Aziraphale.

“Want cuddles,” he said simply, not interested in overtaxing his brain when he was barely awake. “No tea. Tea can wait.”

“That is fine, my dear. Tea can wait until later because I’m enjoying this, too.”

It was around noon before they arose, Crowley rising first to get Aziraphale his customary cup of tea, today one that would be taken before lunch rather than breakfast. He carried in the tray and set it before the angel who thanked him as he prepared to kneel beside the bed and wait until he was needed again.

“Thank you for all you do, my dear. It’s very much appreciated.”

Crowley co*cked his head, confused. “But I’m supposed to do it. That’s what we agreed upon.”

“It doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be appreciative or not ever thank you.”

“Oh. Okay. You’re welcome, angel.”

Crowley knelt on the pillow beside Aziraphale, watching him as he doctored his tea to his liking. Aziraphale took a sip, then looked down at him with a smile.

“It’s perfect, like always. Now, what shall we do today?”

“I don’t know . . . want to go see a film? There’s a new comedy playing over at . . .”

“Maybe later this week. For some reason, I really just want to putter around the flat.”

“You are such a homebody.”

“I’m thinking if you’re good, we’ll go back to the gentlemen’s club as a treat,” Aziraphale replied. “If you think you can handle the levels of lust.”

“More exposure will help out. I did the Roman baths just fine and everyone knows what went on behind the scenes there.”

“I’m afraid I didn’t. Nor do I want to be regaled with stories of that kind of debauchery.”

The conversation continued along those light lines until Aziraphale finished his tea and Crowley rose to take the tray from him and back to the kitchen.

“Do you want brunch or anything?”

“I’d like a shower first.”

“Clean towels are in there.”

“You’re efficient.”

“Always.” Crowley prided himself on his ability to anticipate Aziraphale’s needs.

“One for yourself? You should join me.”

“I think I can arrange for that.”

Together they made for the bathroom with its shower, miracled-up compliments of Crowley who took one look at the clawfoot tub and said it wasn’t modern enough if he was going to be staying here. He turned the water on, getting it to just the right temperature while Aziraphale got himself undressed. Crowley, having slept in the buff, was shower-ready. Stepping in, he got himself wet as Aziraphale shed the last of his clothing and climbed in after him. Stepping aside to give him room, Crowley was glad he insisted on two shower heads so they both could wash at the same time. He reached up to help Aziraphale wet his hair like he always did when they showered together. Aziraphale moved his hands away.

“Not today.”

Instead, Crowley found himself on the receiving end of that, Aziraphale turning him around so that he could more easily wet down the entire length of Crowley’s long hair. Having him move up out of the water, Aziraphale picked up Crowley’s shampoo, squirted some out and massaged it through all the way to his scalp. Crowley found he enjoyed having his hair played with in this manner. Six thousand years in a body and nobody had ever washed it for him before. He hummed slightly as Aziraphale combed his fingers through it while rinsing it out to make sure all the bubbles were washed away.

“Enjoying that, love?”

“Yes. Why are you pampering me?”

“Because I should once in a while to show you how much I appreciate everything you do for me. But if you want me to stop . . .”

“Nah, I’m good. You can keep massaging my hair while this warm water runs over me all day.”

“I wish I could but the water will get cold eventually.”

Crowley faced Aziraphale, reaching out to put his arms over his angel’s shoulders, kissing him as the water ran over them, sometimes trickling into their mouths as they turned their heads and deepened the kiss, reigniting their passion for each other. Aziraphale kissed down Crowley’s chest, covering his sternum with small smooches, approaching his belly button and kneeling to kiss down even further until he was kissing the tip of Crowley’s co*ck. After such persistent touch on such a sensitive place, it was only a matter of time before Crowley became physically aroused, his hands clutching at Aziraphale’s shoulders.

“Angel? What are you doing?”

“Something I want to do. Now hush, Crowley. You enjoy yourself.”

Under Aziraphale’s tender ministrations, Crowley did. He leaned against the cool beige marble of the shower and loved every minute of it. Panting, he tapped Aziraphale on the head.

“I’m going to come if you keep it up.”

Aziraphale pulled off, keeping Crowley on edge with his hand for a moment. “That’s fine. I plan to swallow.”

“What? You rarely swallow.”

But Aziraphale got back to work, and Crowley became unintelligible again until the moment he tensed up and cried out, “Oh, angel!” before releasing into Aziraphale’s willing mouth. He barely remembered the rest of the shower because the good feelings running through his brain demanded all of his attention but Aziraphale got him out and towelled him off, miracling his hair dry. Crowley clung to him, melting into his arms like the touch-starved demon he was at times. He needed these kinds of days and Aziraphale was willing to provide. Part of having a submissive was taking care of them as well.

“You’re in need of touch again, aren’t you? Is it that nightmare?”

“Was just a nightmare. Nothing more.”

“Go get your cushion and kneel in front of my reading chair in the living room. I will be there shortly.”

Going to the fridge, which was kept well-stocked by Crowley’s reality-warping imagination, Aziraphale dug through it looking for items that were bite-sized and able to be eaten with one’s fingers. Loading up a plate with sliced fruits and vegetables, small berries, cubes of cheese, a bagel he smeared with cream cheese and some petit fours he thought into existence because he felt they needed something sweet. Taking the full plate to the living room he sat it down on his chair then seated himself in front of it, his back against it. Beckoning to Crowley, he had him move over so he was directly across from him.

“We’ll just have a light meal of some finger foods for now,” Aziraphale said, taking up a sliced strawberry and offering it to Crowley.

Crowley reached out to take it from Aziraphale’s fingers when the angel tutted at him.

“Not with your hands, my dear.”

Crowley smiled at him in return, leaning forward to gently take the strawberry from his fingers. Aziraphale took a bite or two of the bagel while Crowley ate his piece of fruit then offered it to him. He bit a small portion off, getting some cream cheese on his nose that Aziraphale licked off. The angel offered more bites, making sure to give Crowley his favourite things off the plate, each time expecting the demon to simply eat it off his fingers. It seemed a silly thing but was turning out to be very intimate. Crowley licked the juices of some particularly juicy berry off his lips while Aziraphale watched with desire. That forked tongue was poking out, its length mopping up the bit of liquid before it spilt down on his chin where it would be harder to reach — although maybe not impossible for the demon. The angel chose another berry, putting it up to Crowley’s lips, hoping for the same effect. There wasn’t as much juice, but there was enough there Aziraphale could quickly lean forward to kiss it off Crowley before he licked it off himself. With the next offering, Crowley partially took Aziraphale’s fingers in his mouth, sucking on them until the angel moaned.

Aziraphale found himself laying Crowley back on the floor and taking blueberries to line up on his chest from the hollow of his throat down to just before his belly button. Crawling up close so he could reach everything laid out on Crowley’s body, he started at the top, eating the blueberry off his throat, then working his way down to the last one on his stomach, sucking them up with enough lip action he was leaving brushing kisses in a line from top to bottom. Crowley was panting slightly prompting Aziraphale to take frosting from the tops of the petite fours and smear it on his chest. Reaching up to lick it off, Aziraphale made sure to get every last bit of sticky sweetness. His tongue meandered over to Crowley’s nipples, reaching inside the rings to tease them with its tip before sucking hard on one until Crowley cried out. He moved on to the other one, giving it attention, as well, while Crowley hummed his appreciation.

Flipping Crowley over, Aziraphale experimented with his sensitive lower back. Piling a good amount of raspberries there, he lipped them off one by one, his tongue brushing Crowley’s skin with each pass. Crowley shuddered with delight, moaning as each raspberry was lifted from his back. Aziraphale loved seeing the response. Raspberries gone, he continued to kiss the area, scraping his teeth along it in gentle nibbles while Crowley sucked in his breath, his muscles freezing in an attempt to not buck and accidentally hit Aziraphale in the nose.

“Angel . . .”

“Do you need more?”

“Always. Please?”

“Half a moment, my dear.”

Crowley listened to the sounds of Aziraphale removing his trousers and pants, waiting patiently for what he would do next. His co*ck had once again grown hard and was pressing urgently into the carpet beneath him. A warm weight pressed into his back as Aziraphale’s length pushed inside him, sliding in a few easy strokes all the way in. Crowley canted his hips, adjusting the angle enough to make everything hit just right. Aziraphale began by moving at a relaxed pace but still, it felt wonderful. Crowley was craving touch more than anything, and the feel of his angel against and in him was what he needed right now.

He felt kisses being placed along the nape of his neck and Aziraphale’s tongue running down his spine to between his shoulder blades, leaving a hot wet trail behind that mixed with the sex almost had Crowley screaming at the top of his lungs. He wished he could touch Aziraphale in return and wondered if this bit of torture was part of Aziraphale’s plan or if he had just taken Crowley in a convenient position. Aziraphale reached up to touch his collar, his hand upon it jiggling it just enough for Crowley to know he was doing so.

“I love this on you. I love that you’re mine,” he murmured barely audible over Crowley’s vocalizations.

“Always . . . yours, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale leaned forward again to give kisses and nibbles where he could reach. His hands ran over Crowley’s sensitive sides and stroked along his arms. Wherever he could touch, he did. He kept as much skin-on-skin contact with the demon as physically possible. The demon beneath him trembled with the touch, drinking it up like a parched desert drank up a rainstorm. The nightmare was worse than Crowley let on if he needed this level of comfort. Usually, his need for touch came on slowly, not all at once like this.

“Oh! Angel! Right . . . there! Thank you . . . sir!”

“It’s ok, Crowley. You need this. Enjoy.”

He scratched the area where Crowley’s wings would manifest if he were to unfurl them into the physical world. It was one of the most sensitive parts of their bodies as they both had discovered. Crowley keened in reply, pushing himself up on his elbows as his back bent in a humanly impossible manner. Aziraphale pulled himself back before Crowley’s head ended up connecting with his own.

“Careful. You’re going to force me out if you keep that up, Crowley.”

Crowley collapsed once again and Aziraphale made his big push for org*sm, encouraging Crowley to come as well. Aziraphale came first, Crowley still building up. Quickly he rolled him over to wrap a hand around his co*ck and pump long enough that Crowley cried out with the pleasure and covered his hand with his physical org*sm. It disappeared the moment it hit, Aziraphale cleaning it up so he could cuddle with Crowley. He got him up on the couch, expanding it enough they could both lie on it under the blankets kept in the living room without being squeezed.

“You need the touch, don’t you? I’ll lie here with you as long as you need me to, my dear.”

“Thank you, angel.”

There they remained for a good portion of the afternoon, close as close could be. Aziraphale petted Crowley’s soft hair in a soothing fashion while Crowley reached an arm around to touch Aziraphale’s leg, stroking along his hip and thigh. They rose later in the evening for a well-deserved dinner at the Ritz, Crowley talking and laughing through the entire meal. Aziraphale smiled to see him in high spirits again and hoped that the nightmare was now forgotten.

Chapter 20: A Different Kind of Ginger

Chapter Text

Crowley stood his ground even though he was standing his ground wearing nothing but his collar and the matching rings in his nipples. His arms were crossed, the look on his face defiant. Aziraphale put his reading glasses back on before resuming reading the book in front of him. He had put it aside temporarily to speak to Crowley when the demon decided to finally come downstairs after Aziraphale closed the bookshop.

“I know what a stinging nettle can do to skin and no. I’m not going to play with those. How can you suggest such a thing?”

“I just wanted to do something different and have a plant-based scene like we’ve had scenes around a couple of other themes. I needed ideas.” Aziraphale gave him a pleading look. “We’re new at this, so I’d appreciate it if you allowed me a little wiggle room here. This is why we have communication. So I know what I can do to you. I’m not going to ever breach your limits, my dear. All you have to do is say no.”

“What about figging? I’ve wanted to try that for a while.”

“Isn’t figging inserting peeled ginger . . .” Aziraphale hesitated, still not comfortable with some words associated with the activities they engaged in. “. . . down there?”

Crowley smirked. “Yes, Aziraphale. You make a butt plug out of peeled ginger and stick it up someone’s arse. There’s no need to be a prude. We’re f*cking each other, for hell’s sake.”

“You’re starting to venture onto thin ice with your insolence, Crowley.”

“I always do, sir.”

Crowley wandered off to the kitchenette thinking maybe a cup of cocoa would soothe Aziraphale’s irritation. He didn’t stop to consider if he didn’t needle the angel in the first place — as he so enjoyed at times — Aziraphale would not reach such levels of annoyance. Starting the water boiling, Crowley got down one of Aziraphale’s treasured angel wing mugs and waited. Cocoa was then spooned in when the water was hot enough, Crowley knowing exactly how much to use for Aziraphale’s idea of a perfect cup. Finishing it up, he took it to him along with a plate of iced biscuits.

“I’m still angry at you even if you are trying to win my favour back,” said Aziraphale who didn’t bother to pause in his reading to acknowledge the peace offering Crowley had brought him. “I should punish you for being so insolent. I know how much you hate writing lines.”

“Writing? I don’t have the best vision, you know, with the . . .”

“Hush, Crowley. I’m well aware your snake eyes are merely cosmetic. I know underneath they’re still the perfectly normal human ones that came with the body because you have absolutely no trouble reading or performing actions that require acute vision when needed.”

Crowley decided the best course of action was to keep quiet before Aziraphale carried out his threats of punishment. His hand cramped up from writing and Aziraphale was enough of a bastard to make the sentence he’d have to copy out long enough that he couldn’t do the punishment the quick and dirty way of writing short sentences vertically, assembly-line style. If Aziraphale had given him the sentence “I will behave better” to copy fifty times, he’d write fifty “I”s down the page followed by fifty “wills”, so on and so forth with the rest of the words. No, when he misbehaved to the point that Aziraphale sat him down at the desk with paper and pen, he was given sentences more along the example of “I know that my behaviour has upset Aziraphale and I will endeavour to act in a more courteous and respectful manner in the future because that is my duty as a submissive.”

He sank onto his cushion where he sat silently.

“Go get your mobile telephone and find me information on figging. I’d like to know how much this is going to hurt you, how much you’re to like it and if it’s even safe to do. I know we can easily heal but that does not mean I want to cause you harm.”

Crowley’s mobile appeared in his hand and he pulled up his browser to make a search query into. “Here.” He handed it to Aziraphale. “Click on the links that look like they’ll help you out.”

It was silent while Aziraphale did his research. After looking over several sites and personal experiences, he peered at Crowley. “Really? Do you want to try this? It sounds absolutely painful, my dear.”

“That’s the point. I do enjoy pain, you know.”

“I realize that, but this seems a bit . . . much.”

“In the end, it’s up to you.” Crowley shrugged. He would either get to or not. No middle ground here.

“All right. We can do it,” Aziraphale said still sounding a bit reluctant. “It’s your bottom, not mine. Now I have paperwork to do. You can go upstairs, clean the bathroom, then edge yourself if you wish. Remember if you org*sm, that’s the last one you’re having for two days.”

“Yes, sir.” Crowley unfolded himself from his cushion and walked up the spiral staircase.

Aziraphale sat down at his ancient computer to do the month’s accounting. It would take him a good while to punch in all the numbers and the computer to realize he was requiring work of it. Crowley would have a good hour to do his cleaning and whatever he chose to do on his free time. Aziraphale would have a chance to think about how to do the figging. Did Crowley just want to experience it alone? Bound somehow? Engage in some kind of sexual play while it was inside him? As enjoyable as the whole dynamic was, he still did not understand some of Crowley’s proclivities. But if they worked for him, then why not do them? They made good rewards when Crowley behaved and Aziraphale knew the carrot was as necessary as the stick.

Having made a plan, he finished up his accounting and cleaned up his workspace as much as he ever did — enough to have room to do what he needed to. Crowley said he’d tidy it for him but there were some places Aziraphale forbade him to clean. He retired to upstairs to see what Crowley was doing.

He was lounging on the couch watching a film, his whip-thin body on perfect display stretched out the length of the couch. Aziraphale lustily took in that scene, his gaze sliding over Crowley’s body to note he was idly warming himself up and still very hard. Approaching, he leaned over to kiss him.

“Good job,” he said. He held up a perfectly shaped peeled hunk of ginger he had conjured into existence. “Do you really want to do this?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Bend over the couch. Let’s do this before I change my mind.”

Crowley slid off to kneel in front of it, Aziraphale kneeling beside him holding the piece of ginger which he gave one last dubious look to before decided to insert it while he still was of the mind to. He pushed it in, leaving enough of the wide base out to remove it when they were finished. Pulling his hand back, they waited together. It appeared to not be affecting Crowley in the least after a minute or two passed.

“Anything?” asked Aziraphale.

“A bit of tingling.”

A few more minutes ticked by. It still tingled but the ginger oils were beginning to seep into his tissues, irritating them. Crowley felt minor pain now, nothing that he would consider enough to cause a pleasurable reaction. He tolerated it and nothing more.

“Okay, now the burning’s starting but it’s mild.”

A few minutes later and he was wiggling uncomfortably. The burning was of a medium level now but he could feel it building and the tingling sensation that went along with it spread out of its localized area. Now it was starting to make him horny. What he wanted most was Aziraphale’s hand on his co*ck, stroking him to org*sm while the ginger burned with both pain and pleasure inside his arse. He moaned softly, rocking his hips so that his co*ck rubbed on the couch. Aziraphale swatted one butt cheek.

“None of that.”

Crowley gasped in greater pain, having clenched when hit which brought the ginger more into contact with his sensitive regions. He laid his forehead against the couch cushion, hissing. Next to him, Aziraphale was surprised at such an outburst. He spanked Crowley again.

“Oh!”

He struck him a third time, the burning sensation shooting through Crowley’s backside yet again.

“Holy shhh. . .”

“Don’t say it.”

He was hit a fourth and a fifth time. More and more spanks until Aziraphale’s hand stung with the effort and Crowley’s bottom burned both inside and out. He begged Aziraphale for some kind of sexual contact — a hand job, a blow j*b, being allowed to do it himself . . . anything. Aziraphale relented, telling him to get on the couch and lay on his back. He sat near the demon’s feet and reached out to take his co*ck in his hand. The angel had studied a little dirty talk and wanted to use it.

“Look at you on display for me,” he murmured as he stroked Crowley to further excitement. “You can’t hide anything from me . . . Can you? And I can do what I wish to you. What if I stopped now? You’re all worked up and I simply stopped stroking you. Left you there without an org*sm.”

“No,” begged Crowley. “Please don’t.”

Aziraphale stroked harder. “How sensitive are you?”

“Burns a lot.”

“Want it out?”

“Want you to f*ck me.”

Aziraphale’s other hand twisted the ginger, grinding more oil into sensitive tissues. Crowley cried out.

“That’s not what I asked. It stays in now.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ask to org*sm.”

He was climbing on top of Crowley, bare from his waist to his tartan socks, sporting a vagin*. Why should Crowley have all the fun? He slid his wetness over Crowley’s co*ck, not entering him, but using him to stimulate himself. Hands planted on the demon’s shoulders, he leaned into it, feeling himself get wetter the more he passed his cl*t over Crowley’s hardness. Feeling sad*stic thanks to the ginger, he dug his fingernails into Crowley’s shoulders, causing the demon to yelp. Harder he ground, feeling himself get closer to coming. His brow furrowed in concentration as he pushed himself, using Crowley to reach new heights and crying out when he exploded onto them, the feelings tingling through him without the burn the demon was experiencing from the ginger. Aziraphale let another ride over him in quick succession, then a third. They were strong enough that he felt satisfied with what he had received, in fact, he felt a little fuzzy-headed but nothing that would affect what was happening here.

Twisting the ginger one more time, he resumed Crowley’s hand job as the demon begged for an org*sm. He could feel it building beneath his grip as he spread his hand out to the point that the webbing of his fingers started to hurt. Rubbing that much surface at once always drove Crowley crazy. He thumbed the glands one last time, concentrating on the area since he knew org*sm was imminent.

Then Crowley sneezed, causing his body to eject the ginger and distracting him from the org*sm he was about to ask if he could have. His seed leaked out pathetically, a weak flow covering Aziraphale’s hand. The demon winced in pain, curling up on the couch in a tight ball while Aziraphale sat beside him in a panic as he had no idea what went horribly wrong.

“Oh, my goodness! Crowley? Are you hurt or something? What just happened?”

“I sneezed and ruined my own org*sm. It hurts, Aziraphale. It hurts so badly. I feel like I have a case of blue balls.”

“They still look skin-coloured to me.”

“Just heal it, okay? Oh, my . . .ngk! It aches. Oh, there we go . . . thank you, angel.”

Aziraphale pulled him up into his lap, stroking his hair and rocking him as he placed kisses along his forehead. “Do you need an org*sm?”

“Oh, heaven, no! I just needed the pain gone. That’s the worse agony I’ve experienced in a long time. Let’s never do that again. But can I say you owe me an org*sm later?”

Aziraphale chuckled slightly. “Of course, my dear. Just make sure next time that you don’t sneeze.”

Chapter 21: And Breathe

Chapter Text

“Are you ready for this?” Aziraphale asked as he lay on Crowley, still inside him while they made love before they had to get ready for the day.

Crowley nodded. “Yes. Let’s do it. No different from on the island. We’re just in a bed instead of on a beach.”

“Deep breath.”

Aziraphale put a hand over Crowley’s nose and mouth, pushing down tight to form a seal. The reaction from Crowley’s body was immediate despite him having no requirement for oxygen. He bucked against Aziraphale, his arms flailing as they attempted to pull Aziraphale’s hands off his face. Inside his head, he could hear his own heartbeat as his blood rushed in his ears. His muscles started to feel weaker, his fingers less able to pry at Aziraphale’s hold on him. He could sense his eyelids starting to flutter shut as his brain became fuzzy and his head started to flop to one side, held in place by Aziraphale alone now. Everything in his body went lax and it was becoming darker and harder to think. It made little sense for a being that did not require breathing but it did prove how integrated he had become with his body.

The weight on his face was lifted and his lungs filled with air as he gulped in mouthfuls of it. His consciousness was flooded with the brightness of the room while his jump-started brain fired back to life, high on adrenaline. Tipping his head back, he giggled like a maniac as Aziraphale kept moving within him, the mixture of feelings brought on light-headedness as well as lust. Crowley curled his legs around his partner again, clinging to him in a kind of full-body hug. He was going to come; he could feel it building.

“May I, sir?” he asked between giggles.

“Yes. And what have I done to you, my dear? You’re positively giddy.”

Crowley came very loudly which was music to Aziraphale’s ears. He loved he could bring him to such a state, to show him such physical love. He willed himself to org*sm as well, but it didn’t work; his body wished to continue upon hearing Crowley’s excitement. A discreet miracle was needed to nudge himself in that direction this time. It didn’t matter. Natural or aided along, it was still a very satisfying end to a few hours’ of play.

The bed vibrated with the twitching of Crowley’s foot, an unconscious movement he always did when full of energy. Aziraphale laughed at him.

“I take it you’re not in need of aftercare?”

“Nope. Doing fine. I’m on such a high right now.”

“We’re going to have to keep an eye on you, my dear. There is a good probability of sub drop with the frame of mind you are currently in.”

“Do you need some tea or anything to snack on?”

“No, but I think a shower would be in order. Come along. Bathing in some hot water will help relax you.”

He caressed Crowley’s hair, his ring with its serpent and wings design clinking against Crowley’s collar when he reached his neck and pulled his hand through to the ends of the demon’s shoulder-length locks. Crowley heard it and picked his hand up, giving the ring a kiss. He loved that Aziraphale wore a symbol of their relationship just as he did. With a smile, he rose from the bed and waited for Aziraphale to get up before following him to the bathroom.

~*~*~

Crowley had found the note on the dash of the Bentley while he was out running some errands after stopping by Tate Modern to catch the new exhibit there as Aziraphale had no interest in modern art. It gave him something to do other than hang uselessly around the bookshop or his own flat, which he only rarely returned to these days. Sometimes he wondered if it was worth keeping any more since he and Aziraphale more or less lived together.

He let that thought slide from his mind as he noticed the note before him, sitting up next to the rearview mirror. It was written on standard Hell stationary — old, slightly mouldy and smelling faintly of sulphur. He picked it up warily, wondering what they could want now that he owed them nothing. Unfolding it he read:

Traitor Crowley,

Notes on how to produce demonsbane have disappeared from Hell. We suspect Michael when she was down here for your trial. Considered yourself warned since you would be a primary target but do not consider this warning as anything more than us protecting ourselves. We will be avoiding London for the foreseeable future and ask that you remain in the city until this is sorted out. What happens to you is of no consequence for Hell as long as you don’t maim other demons.

Beelzebub, Prince of Hell

How nice of them to think of themselves when sending him a note. He folded it back up to stuff into his coat pocket. It would go in the folder with the other titbits of evidence they had been collecting over the months. It pointed a strong finger at Heaven, though. Aziraphale would be most upset upon seeing it, as he still harboured feelings for his former side and thought them to be on the side of good but Crowley was not going to hide evidence from him. He always thought it best that Aziraphale knew the truth. He had been a part of Heaven for millennia innumerable and only realized how toxic it could be for the last nearly three years. Anything that pushed Heaven further from his good graces was a good thing in Crowley’s estimation.

He decided to pick up a decent bottle of wine on the way back to the bookshop. The news might be easier to swallow with a good vintage. Pulling in to a wine shop that Aziraphale favoured, he spent a few minutes picking out an expensive dessert wine before heading home. Staring at the bag that contained the bottle as it sat on the passenger seat, Crowley hoped it was enough to soften the blow. He started the Bentley and drove off for Soho.

Aziraphale had settled down upstairs in the flat with a mug of tea and a plate of biscuits when Crowley arrived. He held up the wine as he entered.

“How was the new exhibit?” Aziraphale asked as he patted the couch next to him.

Crowley took the wine to the kitchen to chill and joined him on the couch, curling up against Aziraphale’s side. “Pretty good. They’ve had better, but I’m not going to complain. It’s nice to be able to get out sometimes. I can’t spend all my time hanging around the bookshop being a complete nuisance. I got us some nice dessert wine for later. And this showed up in my Bentley.”

He pulled out the musty paper to hand to Aziraphale, wishing he could just hand it over when the angel was drunk, but that wasn’t the point. The point was to soften the blow later, not while making the point. He watched anxiously while Aziraphale read it, his lips pursed tightly together. Setting it aside for now, Aziraphale placed the book on the side table on top of it to keep it in place then stroked the book thoughtfully for a moment before facing Crowley again. The demon reached out to take up his hands.

“How are you doing?”

“I’ll be fine. I shouldn’t expect anything less out of them, to be honest.”

He was quiet for the rest of the evening, even refusing the offer of wine later. They watched two films together before Aziraphale decided to go to bed. Crowley joined him, but it was a night of just sleep followed by a morning of cuddles because Aziraphale seemed to need them. Crowley understood and gave him as much support as he could.

“Do you want your tea?” Crowley finally asked after an hour of silent cuddling.

“No, thanks, my dear. I think we need a day to ourselves. I’m not going to open the bookshop.”

“If you think that’s what you need.”

Aziraphale roughly grabbed Crowley by the hair, drawing him for a firm kiss on the lips that left Crowley’s mouth with a slight ache. He gave a small whimper in surprise as Aziraphale shoved his tongue in his mouth in a very dominate move. His scalp stung as his hair was pulled away from it. But if this is what Aziraphale needed, he would willingly allow him to be rough with him. Anything to help the angel work through his feelings about Heaven and the toxic environment he endured when he was part of it.

“I’m sorry they turned out to be such arseholes,” he whispered when Aziraphale finally released him.

“It’s fine. They are what they are and I’m not longer a part of that.”

Aziraphale was nuzzling into his hair, petting its lengths for comfort as he grieved reopened wounds Crowley could not heal for him. Crowley held him, allowing him to time to do so once again.

“S’okay, angel. I’m here. I’m always here if you need me.”

“Let’s play,” Aziraphale said suddenly sitting up. “I want to take my mind off of this. It’s not worth dwelling on.”

He grabbed the demon by his collar and pulled him up, kissing him all over from forehead to neckline while Crowley tried not to feel alarmed over this sudden turn of events. That was one of their rules — no play if one of them was not in the right frame of mind and it didn’t feel like Aziraphale was anywhere near the right frame of mind to be doing this. But they had never come up against this rule before and Crowley allowed the angel to keep up his kissing, deciding to test the waters before putting a halt to things, if play needed to be stopped. They lay back on to the bed again, Aziraphale on top of Crowley, naked and determined to have fun. Crowley continued to consent, hoping that maybe the play would relax Aziraphale but it wasn’t working. The more they got into it, the more agitated the angel became. His sky blue eyes turned stormy and Crowley knew that they had to stop before something negative occurred that could affect their dynamic. He decided it would be best to end the play altogether.

“Red,” he called out.

Aziraphale froze. “Oh, my darling, are you all right?”

“I’m fine. You’re not. We can continue later when you’re in a better frame of mind. C’mon. I’m going to suggest that we both put our clothes back on and we can lay here in bed where I can give you all the hugs you need while you talk out all those feelings, ok?”

He helped Aziraphale into his pyjamas and tucked him back into bed before he slid on the black silk pyjama bottoms he wore when he was allowed to wear something to bed. He slid in under the quilt beside the angel.

“Cocoa or tea or anything?” he asked.

“I could do with some cocoa,” the angel admitted.

Crowley presented him with a steaming mug of up, conjured up the lazy way via demonic miracle.

“There you go.” He smiled as Aziraphale took some sips of it. “We’ll stay here all day if you need it.”

“They stole a way to make demonsbane then sent you a plant. So you’d transform and harm me. Discorporate me so I would be within their control again because only through Heaven can I receive another body. We’d be separated and I’m guessing they would find a way to punish me for my role in thwarting the Apocalypse since our trials didn’t go so well for either side. And that isn’t even going into the hell you’d go through because it would be your hand that caused that to happen.”

“I know.” Crowley stroked his arm. “They were never loyal to you, angel. You just needed to be in the right frame of mind to accept that.”

“I should have seen the red flags, Crowley.”

“Sometimes we’re too close to see the big picture. You do now and that’s what matters, isn’t it? You’re free.”

“Yet we are still being pursued.”

“A hazard of being considered a traitor.”

“I am not a traitor!”

“No, you’re not. You’re the one angel in this world who understands exactly what it means to be an angel.”

“Now what do we do?”

“Keep vigilant. Prepare. And hope this is the last time either side messes about with us.”

Aziraphale handed his empty mug to Crowley, who was closer to a bedside table than he was. Crowley vanished the mug to the kitchen instead. Aziraphale was still not used to the freedom of being able to use miracles with the wild abandon Crowley employed. He snuggled in closer to Crowley, breathing in the scent of his favourite cologne.

“I thought they were going to leave us alone.”

“Yeah, so did I. But apparently they’re too afraid of us to let us be. We’re different and they cannot handle that.”

Aziraphale leaned against Crowley’s shoulder and cried while Crowley softly held him and stroked his hair, whispering soothing words to him. It was easier for him to walk away from it all because he never believed in Heaven nor Hell. He had it in him to be a very good or very bad if he had wished it but what he had wanted most to was to be allowed to be Crowley rather than a foot soldier in a perpetual war to collect the most souls before battling for the ultimate supremacy. It was a concept foreign to every other supernatural being in existence except one other, the one whom he comforted. Then he thought of the angel stationed in North America. Okay, maybe there were others, but none of them had had the courage he and Aziraphale had when it came to standing up for what they believed in.

It didn’t matter. All that he needed or wanted to concentrate on now was getting Aziraphale through this mess. And he swore he would, no matter what it took. Aziraphale was going to have the existence he deserved and Crowley would fight to make that happen.

~*~*~

“I’m starting to enjoy our regular meetings,” said Gabriel to Crowley several days later. “That was a great move — you all but abandoning this apartment so we could meet here. What do you have for me this week?”

“Hell knows that you took the instructions on producing demonsbane. Beelzebub sent me a note,” Crowley replied in the monotone he used when under Gabriel’s control.

“I didn’t know Hell cared.” Gabriel leaned back in the light grey leather chair he sat it, his arm on the red accent pillow.

“They don’t. They feel I’d be a primary target and asked me to stay in London while they’d stay out of it until the problem is taken care of.”

“Anything else? Do they know how we got the plans?”

“They suspect Michael during my trial.”

“Hmmm. I might have to do some diplomatic manoeuvring. Get them to think you took the plans.” Gabriel stood up and walked around Crowley, circling him like he was prey. “I can feel you in there when we talk like this. You’re beating against your skull wanting to get out, aren't you? I’ll free you completely when the time is right and you will remember all this, especially what you’re going to do to your boyfriend.”

Crowley felt a moment of chilly terror before the memories sunk into oblivion and he was left alone in his flat once again. Blinking a couple of times, he looked around the living room, then got to dusting the place like he did every couple of weeks, unaware of the sinister plot he was being forced to take part of.

Chapter 22: The Wrong Delivery

Chapter Text

Crowley peered into the box that was delivered earlier this morning and pulled out a harness, but it was not the kind of harness they were expecting. It was of purple leather and meant to hold an exterior dild* instead of the chest harness Crowley had ordered at Aziraphale’s bequest. He held it up, confused, then searched the box hoping that just maybe they had made a mistake and packed the two together. All he found was a dild* to fit onto the harness received.

“It’s not the right one,” he said to Aziraphale, who entered the backroom after helping a customer. The bookshop was empty now.

“What is that for?”

“Pegging’s one use for it.”

“Pegging?”

“Yeah,” said Crowley, putting it back. “It’s hard to give anal if you don’t have the right equipment.”

“But we can have the right equipment. We’re not limited by our bodies like humans.”

“I don’t understand human sexual needs, but there are a lot of men out there who want women to give them anal. Really, any vagin* owner can use it in any hole on another person if they want. Or maybe a penis owner uses it for one reason or another. I don't know.”

Such complex concepts as human sexuality and gender were alien to them and would never be fully understood. They had their own sexuality they forged as supernatural beings who made an effort, but it only resembled what humans did. They were a separate species with an entirely different baseline. Once one scratched the surface, the sex they shared with each other was something else enirely. As for gender, their comprehension would never go beyond realizing there were male people, female people and people who were non-binary. As Crowley would say "Use the everyone's correct pronouns and you can fake the rest."

“That’s not going to be very useful for us in any of its functions. We can just swap genitals if we need to for whatever sexual act we have in mind.” Aziraphale got the tape out of his desk drawer to reseal the box and prepare to send it back.

“Role play?”

“What sort of role play? It doesn’t seem very fun for the wearer. What sort of pleasure do you get from something not physically part of your body? There are no nerves between it and you.”

The bookshop’s bell rang announcing new customers and cutting off their conversation. Aziraphale headed out to the bookshop proper. Crowley packed up the harness in the box and exited after him. Approaching him, he whispered in his ear.

“I’m just going to take the delivery upstairs. Close up when you can and I’ll show you what we can do.”

He disappeared up the spiral staircase.

Once upstairs he switched genders and stripped off trousers. Getting out the harness, Crowley put it on and attached the dild*. It had a vibe on the base of it and fitted right above her labia close to where her cl*t was located. Perfect. She would get feeling from that if Aziraphale let her move forward with her bold plan. Turning it on, she tested the vibe, finding it had a strong pulse. Crowley pressed it down against herself, it was enough to start getting her cl*t excited. Quickly, she turned it off before it began to actually turn her on. Taking the harness off, she put it back in the box, and waited in a pair of lacy knickers and the black t-shirt she was wearing when male.

Aziraphale was up an hour later having finally got every customer out of the bookshop after a crowd of tourists wandered in to poke about the place. Finding her on the couch presenting female, he gave her a curious look.

“What’s your idea, my dear?”

“Pegging you.”

“No.”

“Why not? It’s not like it messes with the dynamic or that you’ve never enjoyed being the bottom. You like it a lot even if we don’t do it very often.”

She stood up and snapped her fingers. The air rippled over her, stilling to reveal her in her Nanny Ashtoreth outfit, a smile on her face as she adjusted her hat. Aziraphale gulped down his surprise at seeing that form again. She raised an eyebrow above her sunglasses.

“What’s wrong? You don’t want to play with Nanny?”

“I . . . I don’t recall saying that. But who’s in charge here?”

“You. Never said I couldn’t make suggestions. You have every right to veto them if you so wish, you know.”

She smiled, showing off her deep red lipstick. He was almost hers to manipulate.

“It’ll be worth it. Letting Nanny do all the work and you get all the pleasure.”

“Don’t you tempt me, Crowley.”

“I think it’s more of a seduction.”

Her gaze flicked down to notice he wasn’t fitting comfortably in his trousers any more. He was hers for the taking . . . in more than one way.

“What’s a little role play? You do all the work. I’m the one trussed up on the bed like a pretty little sex toy. It takes effort to use your sex toy, doesn’t it? Not this time. You just get to relax and feel the pleasure.”

“All right! You win! Come here, you minx, and let me kiss you.”

He crushed his lips against hers and she knew without a doubt that he had smeared that lipstick all over almost immediately. Reaching back he pulled off her hat and fumbled for the hairpins he knew kept her hair up in that severe style. It had been a few years since he had pulled them out last, but with a bit of thinking, he remembered exactly where they were. Out they came one by one to be tossed on the nearby coffee table to join the hat. Crowley’s red locks tumbled down in beautiful waves and she no longer looked so severe. He ran his hand through them, combing out the tangles before he took her hand and started to lead her off to the bedroom.

“Wait! Let me grab the harness.” She snatched it up out the box and followed him down the hall.

Aziraphale took it from her and tossed it on the bed so he could slip off her tweed jacket and work on getting her out of the blouse and fancy bow that lay beneath it. The bow fluttered to the floor and the blouse wasn’t far behind once he fumbled the buttons undone. Reaching behind her, he unzipped that severe skirt and let it fall into a puddle around her feet, noticing she hadn’t bothered with tights or knickers. The shoes he vanished instead of going through the time needed to sit her down, unlace them and pull them off her feet.

His own clothing followed as she was stepping into the harness and prepared for their play. Aziraphale noticed it was no longer purple, but black with a matching dild*. She stood there grinning at him like he was prey while he finished sliding off his pants. Just to remind her of her place, he grabbed her by the collar, pulling her in for one more rough kiss. The hand moved to her hair, grabbing tightly at the nape of her neck and causing Crowley to gasp softly in surprise. Aziraphale bit down on her exploring tongue lightly, sucking on it for a moment before lifting his lips off of hers.

“I know our sexual acts do not determine our roles, but I thought I’d leave you with a reminder of who is in charge.”

“Yes, sir,” she muttered in reply.

He lay down on the bed on his back, telling her he wanted to look at her while they played. She ran a finger with a long nail manicured in a lovely shade of red down his sternum.

“You just sit back and let me please you.”

Turning on the vibe, she pushed carefully into him, noting how different it was from when she was using her own penis. She felt nothing of his warmth or tightness. She could not push in further and know when she hit his prostate, except from the noises he made. It was like she had lost every single nerve in her co*ck but was still able to get it erect and use it. What replaced the natural feeling of being inside Aziraphale was a buzzing across her cl*t. Oh, it was a pleasant buzzing and if she pushed hard enough with the strap-on, it would give her an org*sm, but it was a mere shadow of the feelings she was used to. How did vagin* owners make this work for them?

She kept going, though. This was a bit of role play and experimentation. Thrusting was different, too. It came from higher up in her hips instead of being slung lower and closer to her groin. As low as the harness sat, it was still wasn’t in exactly the same location on her body. She furrowed her brow in puzzlement as she figured out how to thrust to give Aziraphale what he needed while making sure the vibe on the dild*’s base hit the right areas on her. It was an exercise in constant adjustment and it was keeping her from fully getting her head focused on the fun her body was engaging in. Crowley was only feeling pleasure from the vibe, not from her mind. It was frustrating her.

“It’s just an experiment, love,” said Aziraphale soothingly. He saw the conflict in her eyes and knew it wasn’t as fun for her as it could be.

He, himself, was noticing the differences, too. The dild* was a different length and girth than Crowley and he found he was used to his partner’s shape. He missed the real Crowley inside him, slick and warm and moving with confidence rather than the halting thrusts that she was making. This might work for humans; they might find it very enjoyable, but it wasn’t the same for them. He let her try for a while, but neither of them were getting out of it what they should be. Finally, he vanished the wretched thing and she was surprised to find herself pressing her mons pubis against his balls.

“Oh!”

Aziraphale smiled at her. “We tried and it didn’t work out like we thought. That is all right. Not everything is going to do it for us. But, I’d like it very much if you’d come up here to finish what you started, Nanny.”

She situated herself on him while he set his hands on her hips to control her movements. Grinding down on his co*ck, she spread her wetness around then pushed forward enough to make good contact between Aziraphale’s body and her cl*t. She was glad the harness was gone and it was Aziraphale now filling her instead of her filling him with something artificial that took away from the experience. He was hitting all the right spots, but she felt a twinge of fury at him keeping her at a slow steady pace that denied her escalation. She bit her lip until it almost bled. Whimpering and begging to be allowed more. Fighting against Aziraphale’s strong hands keeping her where he wanted.

“No, Crowley.”

“Please? Please let me?”

“Not until I’m ready.”

Aziraphale enjoyed her frustration. He knew very well she would use this to attempt to top from the bottom because Crowley was never going to be an easy submissive. Thwarting the demon was a part of the challenge that he enjoyed very much. He kept his iron grip on her, holding on to her hips so she could not come, smiling serenely at her when she snarled down at him. Her fingernails clawed uselessly at him as her temples dampened with the sweat of her excursions.

“Succubus.”

“If only! You wouldn’t deny me, then!”

And he let go. “Come.”

The world exploded for them both, reaching peak intensity before they floated down out of the intensity of the act into the soft feelings of afterglow.

“See? I told you I’d make it worth it for you.”

“No, you didn’t, angel.”

She climbed off of him and headed to the bathroom. Aziraphale sat up, confused by the lack of cuddles.

“You’re showering already?”

“Yes, and I suggest you do, too. You owe me lunch after pulling that stunt and that table at the Ritz isn’t going to sit open forever.”

Quicker than anything, she found herself chained to a ring in the wall by her collar. She had enough slack to move about the bedroom. Fuming, she turned to Aziraphale, a well-defined sneer on her face as she demanded, “What did you do?”

“We’re staying here. You’ll be up here and I’ll be reopening the bookshop for a few more hours. It was a lovely lunch break, but we don’t have time for the Ritz, nor is it your place to demand it. I suggest you don’t miracle yourself out of that if you don’t want further discipline.” He conjured up a small rectangle object and tossed it to her. “There’s your mobile telephone so you can entertain yourself. Although this wouldn’t be a safe thing to do if you were human, you’re a demon, so you’ll be fine. See you around five o’clock. I will know if you’ve removed that chain.”

“Aziraphale!” Crowley screamed as he left the room.

Feeling smug about her well-deserved rebuke, Aziraphale returned to the bookshop. He’d return later to a Crowley who felt rather terrible about her earlier behaviour. After a long talk about not topping from the bottom, he agreed to take her to dinner at one of her favourite cafés. When they returned to the bookshop’s flat after their wonderful meal, Crowley was a well-behaved sub for the rest of the night.

Chapter 23: On Display

Chapter Text

Crowley was in the kitchen washing up after dinner in a pair of boxers, Aziraphale standing in the doorway watching him as he washed the dishes by hand instead of with his powers. He was debating taking Crowley back to the gentlemen’s club for another round of public play this weekend. He had been good lately since the whole pegging incident where he made a serious attempt at topping from the bottom, resulting in serious comeuppance. Approaching the sink, he took up a towel and started drying the dishes in the rack. Crowley smiled at him.

“Hey, angel. What’s up?”

“I was thinking . . . do you want to return to the club for a little public play? They’re having an actual party this weekend for the BDSM-minded members.”

“I don’t know. It did get to me.”

“Why is that?”

“You sense love. I sense desires and that includes lust. Imagine getting overwhelmed with love and reacting badly to it.”

“I don’t if you could react badly to love.” Aziraphale placed the dish he dried in the cabinet on top of the clean ones.

“I think you could. Imagine running around hugging everyone in sight because you’ve overdosed on love. Think that would go over well with everyone you encountered?”

“Well, no.”

“There you go. At least I only wanted to give you a blow j*b rather than the entire room.” Crowley grinned ferally as he tipped the water from the washing up tub into the sink.

Aziraphale blushed. “I’m glad you didn’t. I would have been appalled, my dear.”

“I wouldn’t have meant it,” said Crowley, turning serious. “It wouldn’t have been me reacting, just my demonic nature. Anyway, I don’t know. I’d love to go because all those men lusting after me was . . . intoxicating . . . “

“You decide. We have a few days and I’ll take you as a reward. You’ve been very well-behaved lately.”

“If not, do I get another reward?”

“Possibly,” Aziraphale said with a grin.

~*~*~

Saturday Night

The upstairs of the club was reasonably crowded to Crowley’s delight when he and Aziraphale arrived and found themselves an empty leather chair to settle themselves and their bag of toys into. Crowley sat on the floor by Aziraphale’s feet flirting with whoever looked in his direction as Aziraphale greeted some of his friends while ignoring Crowley’s antics. This was for him and if he wanted to indulge in a bit of harmless flirting, then he could indulge in a little harmless flirting.

“Glad to see you back, Ezra,” said one older man who was sneaking glances down at Crowley curled up beside the chair, having stripped down to nothing and having not enough modesty to feel any shame about showing off his body. “It’s been a few weeks now.”

“Well, we have been a bit busy and also we took a nice holiday in the Caribbean for a month. Very relaxing. I hope to get back down there next year as well.”

“Did you find him down there one trip?” the man asked. “Because he’s gorgeous.”

Aziraphale smiled. “No, we met in a garden, actually. We struck up a friendship after a conversation about apples. The rest is history.”

Crowley heard that and snorted. “You’re something else sometimes, angel. So, what are we going to do?”

“I don’t know. What do you want to do?” Aziraphale took off his frock coat and rolled up his sleeves, Crowley standing up to help him get the cuff links off and put away in a pocket in their toy bag where they wouldn’t get lost.

“You. Eventually.”

“What kind of play, Crowley?”

“You could flog me again. That proved interesting.”

“Are we here to play or so you can inspire lust in every other person here?”

“Both. What’s wrong with that?”

“Well, it was my suggestion . . .”

“Can I play with others?”

“No! Why would you suggest such a thing?”

“I suggested nothing. I wanted an honest answer so I can give it to them. Tonight is not the night to be lying. I’m trying not to entice my more demonic side to the surface.”

Aziraphale blinked before recovering and giving Crowley a loving caress. “Oh. Thank you, dear. I’ll be keeping an eye on you this time, too.”

Another jovial man who appeared to be in his forties approached. “Fell! Good to see you. And this is . . .” He looked down at Crowley with a lecherous smile.

Crowley looked up at him with as innocent of a look as he could in the green contacts he wore. Sunglasses weren’t allowed unless one was blind, making using contacts a lot less of a hassle even though Crowley hated them with a passion that surprised even Aziraphale.

“Anthony Crowley.” Crowley stood up. “You can address me directly. I’m an actual person, not just a sex toy.”

The man was a bit taken aback, having a different dynamic with his own sub. “Oh. Yes. Bloomfield. Nice to meet you, Crowley.”

Aziraphale got into a conversation with Bloomfield. Crowley scanned the room, noticing subs and doms alike looking at him, like before. Some were in conversations. Others were using the equipment.Another portion of the room’s population was over in the area of the room reserved for sexual conduct receiving blow j*bs or other sexual favours. Crowley’s gaze was drawn to one man using a toy on his sub and his blood raced. If he could get Aziraphale to take him like that here in front of everyone but Aziraphale was too much of a prude to expose anything more than his forearms in public.

He slid up to Aziraphale, clinging to his side most seductively as he nibbled on his ear while Bloomfield’s sub looked on jealously. He had been relegated to the back of the group, waiting silently while his master had his conversation. Aziraphale absent-mindedly slid an arm around him. The other sub seethed while Crowley smirked at him.

“You’d better get better control of your sub,” Bloomfield said, the irritation evident in his voice. “His behaviour is rather rude.”

“Rude? How? I enjoy a little attention from him, even in public. If you want to observe high protocol, that’s your business, but don’t tell me how to run my dynamic. We’re going to go check out the equipment now, so excuse us.”

He led Crowley off, the demon excited to see the play area again.

“Flog me, please? Or cane? Maybe some knifeplay? I want to have some fun, sir.”

“Let’s see what’s open.”

They headed to the section of the large room where play equipment was set up, most of it in use except for a St Andrew’s Cross in the corner. The two walked over to give it an inspection beforehand because Aziraphale had never seen one in person before. He raised an eyebrow at Crowley.

“Can we use this without looking like fools?”

“Yes, of course. I stand up against it, you do things to me. Run a knife down my back. Flog me. Whatever. No problem.”

“Someone’s anxious to play.”

Crowley discreetly brought their bag over with a miracle. “Yes. I’m loving every minute of being here. I can feel them, Aziraphale. A lot of them want me and I love they do even if they can’t have me. Especially because they can’t have me.”

“Am I going to have to take you home?”

“No. I’m doing fine.” Crowley spread himself over the cross, hands and feet on the corners of the X it made, leaving his entire back exposed. “I belong to you and you can do with me what you want. All they can do is be envious.”

“All right, but it’s not getting out of hand like last time.”

Aziraphale chose a dull knife, not wishing to draw blood. Starting around Crowley’s neck, he passed it over the nape, tracing lines across and downward as the demon gasped in response. This wasn’t even the good part yet. Crowley was extremely sensitive to knifeplay and had a few areas on his body where the simple touch of a steel blade across his skin left his knees buckling. Aziraphale had to work him up to those or risk sub drop later. He carefully ran the knife over the less erogenous areas, tracing scratches into Crowley’s skin — lines and loops and swirls that made the demon moan with desire. Feeling capricious, Aziraphale moved on to his upper arms, running the blade up and down between shoulder and elbow. Crowley twitched on the St Andrew’s cross, his fingers digging into the wood as Aziraphale walked over to work on his other arm, noticing the crowd they were starting to draw. He pulled back Crowley’s head by his hair and placed the blade across his throat, pushing down since it was dull. Crowley hissed in pleasure.

“You’re getting your crowd, my dear,” he whispered.

“I can feel them,” Crowley replied hazily.

Aziraphale licked along his ear before letting his hair go. The knife wandered down along Crowley’s spine to the small of his back where Aziraphale traced shapes with the tip, digging in softly because this was one of Crowley’s erogenous zones. The demon first rose onto the balls of his feet then dropped quickly as his knees gave away, the angel catching him before he crumpled to the ground thanks to the sensations running through him.

“Angel,” he murmured.

“Want to keep going?”

“Yesss.”

Aziraphale put the knife away and pulled out a wooden paddle they hadn’t used much. He showed it to Crowley who nodded slightly, giving his permission. Aziraphale swung it carefully, knowing Crowley liked medium pain, but hard would pull him out of his headspace, ending the scene. The paddle hit Crowley’s arse, vibrating through skin and muscle, leaving behind a red mark. Crowley yelped, the high-pitched nature of it letting Aziraphale know this was a good noise and not one that would make him pause to ask Crowley is he was okay. Throwing the paddle again at the same speed, he left another mark on the demon’s arse. Crowley threw back his head and cried out, his fingers flexing as he rocked on the balls of his feet in front of those gathered to view the spectacle.

Some of those watching were doing so out of mere interest. Others were putting out vibes Crowley could feel even though his back was to his audience. He drank in their desire, cognisant this time of taking in too much too quickly. He couldn’t rid himself of lust as easily as he could rid himself of alcohol, but still, it was delicious and he consciously took control of his actions, doing his best to make them larger than life, moving with a kind of smooth seductiveness that reminded him of a different form from a different time.

“You need to control yourself, Crowley,” murmured Aziraphale as he came to Crowley’s side to check on him. “You’re starting to get fangs.”

They disappeared as Aziraphale took the time to soothe him with strokes to his long hair. They both could hear the crowd murmuring as they played — some talking about how good Aziraphale was with Crowley while others thought he was coddling him as was bound to happen in May-December relationships. Aziraphale’s lips turned upwards in amusem*nt at the thought of their so-called age gap, but he was comfortable in his middle-aged looking body. He didn’t have Crowley’s vanity.

“Ready for more?”

“Yes, sir.”

Aziraphale chose the flogger this time as it had a lovely movement to it and he found it easier to control than any other impact toy. He could tease Crowley by barely hitting him with the tips of the fails or swing it hard, bringing the full flogger down across his back. This time he brought the full fails down on his partner, pulling some satisfying whines from Crowley who writhed nicely under the lashes. He praised him as he worked, keeping a close eye on the demon and his emotions, wishing for once that he could sense lust and desire because it would be quite helpful monitoring Crowley’s well-being here at the club.

Crowley’s back grew redder with each stroke. Aziraphale’s arm kept flying, the flogger hitting over and over as Crowley panted beneath it, each stroke adding tickling at his brain’s pleasure centre. He begged Aziraphale to keep going and the angel did for a while until there was no place left to hit on Crowley’s back that wasn’t striped by the hits of the leather fails. He gave one last swing, making the flogger kiss Crowley’s back softly this time before putting it down so he could do another wellness check on him.

His face was flushed and he was panting hard. Using a miracle to see past the coloured contacts, Aziraphale noticed Crowley’s natural pupils were quite dilated and his eyes glassy. The angel pulled his fisted hands down off the wooden arms of the cross, turning Crowley so he could cradle him in his arms. They had been playing about half an hour and that was a good amount of time even when they scened privately. Crowley had had the public part of his reward. Now it was time to calm down, have a little conversation so they didn’t appear weird, and then head home to bed and whatever further adventures awaited them there.

“Going to let me give you a blow j*b this time?” Crowley asked as they returned to the chair where he lay curled up in Aziraphale’s lap, unheeded. The small crowd they amassed had wandered off to watch others play. “Or use a toy on me? I saw that going on and it turned me on something terrible.”

“No, my dear. For me, that’s private play. You’re lucky I can handle a little impact scene in front of all these gentlemen.”

“What are we going to do now?”

“I planned to cuddle you a bit until you calmed down, put you in your dressing gown so you don’t get chilled then maybe a bit of conversation because this is also a social event as much as it is one for you to show yourself off like you suddenly enjoy doing lately.”

“Always liked to show myself off. You were just never at the baths in Rome. The attention I got there.”

“Silly serpent.” Aziraphale bent to kiss him on his nose. “I have a feeling I would have not appreciated the attention you gave to others.”

“I only ever had eyes for you, angel, even if I was required to spread lust.”

Crowley’s eyes were half-closed as he basked in the warmth of Aziraphale’s lap, and he was relaxed, meaning he was willing to share things he normally would keep to himself. He had never talked about his sexual past and Aziraphale never asked because it didn’t matter. Aziraphale was rather surprised at that but somehow it seems that odd. They were not human, so being attracted to one was highly unlikely, yet still, there was something about knowing how they always belonged to each other like their romance was fated to be.

Aziraphale’s plan of socializing after play was partially thwarted by Crowley, who remained on his lap wrapped in his dressing robe dozing on and off. But many came up to speak to him just the same, at least as an excuse to look over his sub. The angel was aware many of them were wondering how he managed to land a handsome twenty-something-year-old, but let them wonder. The truth was stranger than most humans could imagine. He allowed Crowley an hour nap before rousing him to get dressed again.

“Time to go. We can cuddle at home.”

“I like cuddling here.”

“Of course you do, but I can offer you more than cuddling at home, you know.”

“Okay.” Crowley stirred, rising to dress and enjoying showing himself off one last time for the night.

Aziraphale sighed, letting him do what he needed to do before having him pack up their toy bag while he said his goodbyes. Soon, they were down at the Bentley, Crowley tossing the bag in the backseat before getting in.

“Well, that was fun. When are we doing that again?”

Aziraphale laughed at him. “Someday, my dear. After that display of exhibitionism, I might want to keep you to myself for a while.”

Chapter 24: By the Serpentine

Chapter Text

“Preparations are being made,” Gabriel told Crowley. “It won’t be long now.”

The Archangel gave an excited grin while a trapped Crowley cringed inside his mind. He had to find a way to break free before they made him do worse than he had already done by giving away information. The demon thought this every time Gabriel put him under mind control, not knowing he had thought it before and most likely would think it again. But even if he could manage to move a finger or turn his head, Gabriel dosed him with a bit of demonsbane pollen — enough to keep him under control without turning him into a monster. The effects started to wear off about every two weeks, which is why Gabriel summoned him once a fortnight. He could then add a little more pollen to Crowley’s system and keep him from breaking free.

“It’s disgusting what you two have been up to since you ruined everyone’s plans. You should be punished for that alone. First, you ruined Aziraphale by tempting him into stopping the Apocalypse, now you’re defiling him in other ways. If the Almighty were still around, he would have Fallen by now.” Gabriel stood up. “The day’s coming, Crowley. Enjoy your life while you can because the near future is not looking good for you or Aziraphale.”

Crowley was alone once again, unaware of his involuntary role in Heaven’s plan. He checked his flat over, pondering just selling the damn thing.

~*~*~

“I practically live here,” Crowley said to Aziraphale when he returned to the bookshop. “Should I even bother to keep the flat? I’m over there once a fortnight to make sure everything’s okay and dust the artwork. That’s it. There doesn’t seem to be much use in keeping it only to store my stuff in.”

Aziraphale was reading in his chair, Crowley at his usual place on the floor beside him, his head on Aziraphale’s lap. The angel was combing his fingers through his hair, his hand stilling upon Crowley’s words. He looked down at the demon, his sky blue eyes opened wide in surprise.

“Live here? But you just spend a few nights, really.”

“Yes, live here. Angel, I haven’t spent a night at my flat in a couple of months now. You won’t stay there any more and don’t allow me to spend any significant amount of time there alone.”

“Oh. I hadn’t noticed. I’m sorry, my dear. That’s your space and I should respect your right to spend time in it.”

“Can you spend time with me in it? That’s what I want to know.” Crowley shifted so he could lay his hand on top of Aziraphale’s, which was holding his book gently open.

“How long can you hold on to it? Because I think only time will tell,” replied Aziraphale, his eyes clouding over. “You changed in there. I was trapped. I think only your love for me kept anything horrible from happening.”

“You think love transcended me being out of my mind?”

“You asked questions about me, us, your collar, and while you didn’t believe the answers I gave, you also didn’t attack me even though you could have at any time. Something in your mind still recognized we have a connection.”

Crowley buried his face again in Aziraphale’s waistcoat. “I know. You told me but I still don’t remember.”

“I think it’s best that you don’t. I believe it would eat at you.”

“It already does on occasion.”

Aziraphale slid off his chair to the floor beside Crowley, taking his chin in his hands so the demon looked him directly in the eye. “I don’t blame you, Crowley. Nothing that happened that day was your fault.”

He hugged him tightly, one hand over Crowley’s love mark. He pressed on it lightly knowing the touch would convey his love to Crowley. The demon gasped in response, burrowing in deeper so that he felt Aziraphale’s curls against his cheek. He pressed his hand against Aziraphale’s love mark in return; their silent unique way of saying “I love you”. Aziraphale felt love course through it, thankful Crowley trusted him as much as he did. He didn’t know what he’d do if his partner didn’t believe he would never blame him from that incident.

They spent the evening by each other’s side, Aziraphale reading for an hour or two while Crowley sat on his cushion at his feet messing about on his mobile. Later, he moved to the couch to allow Crowley the chance to get off his knees even though he would spend forever and a day by Aziraphale’s chair if it was asked of him. Aziraphale arose from the couch as midnight approached, pulling Crowley up with him.

“Come,” he said, attaching first the detachable ring to his collar then the black leather leash Crowley had picked out.

He led the demon out of the bookshop. Crowley shrank back.

“Angel, I’m not wearing anything.”

“No matter. I miracled it so nobody will notice us. Shall we take the Bentley? Never mind. I’ll just miracle us there.”

They disappeared with a pop to appear in a copse of trees, the shadows effectively hiding them. Crowley poked around, venturing near the edge of their protection to see where they were located. His excellent night vision picked out the Serpentine nearby, moonlight glinting off the lake’s water. He turned to Aziraphale with a smile, one eyebrow raised high.

“A dalliance in Hyde Park at midnight. Oh, you naughty angel.”

Aziraphale was laying out a blanket for them to sit on, a small bag that was still large enough to contain a few toys and restraints sitting next to it. “I figured we needed a change of scenery. Don’t worry, we’re well shielded from humans and supernatural beings.” He tossed Crowley’s cushion onto the blanket. “There. It wouldn’t do for you to kneel on such hard and uneven ground.” He pulled out another one for him to sit on as well.

Crowley knelt on his pillow to await Aziraphale’s next move. He was digging in the bag, pulling out several items only to put them back before deciding upon the soft black cuffs he used to bind Crowley. Wrapping the fine leather around Crowley’s wrists, he buckled them on before cuffing his hands in front of him. Scooting his cushion up behind Crowley’s, he helped him get into a comfortable position, bum on the cushion, legs bent under him and out to one side and back leaning against Aziraphale’s chest. Aziraphale could easily stroke any part of Crowley from the top of his head to his thighs. He tossed a hood on the blanket beside him, Crowley eyeing it dubiously as he hated hoods with a passion.

“Should I use an anal toy on you or not?” mused Aziraphale.

“Isn’t that up to you, sir?” asked Crowley.

“Of course. I brought the hook and a regular plug. It might help you out if I insert one. You’re going to masturbat* for me. I like the idea of the hook because I do have the leash on still. I can simply attach it to that and pull it tight so it touches all the right areas for you.”

“Your mind’s become so filthy, angel.”

“I rather think you enjoy that.”

Crowley found himself trussed up in the anal hook pulled as far up inside him as it would go, rubbing right where he needed it to, resulting in one extremely turned on demon. Crowley’s head was leaning back on Aziraphale’s shoulder, his body pressed up against the angel’s chest as Aziraphale held him in place by wrapping his arms around Crowley’s chest. Reaching down, he touched Crowley’s co*ck then brought his bound hands down to it.

“You have enough give in the links between the cuffs. You should be able to wrap both hands around yourself and masturbat* to my instruction. I might be using that anal hook to give you a bit of guidance. I will not have you climaxing too early. Maybe I won’t let you at all.”

Stacking his hands on top of each other, Crowley curled them both around his co*ck, pumping them slowly at first. Aziraphale was stroking his hair as he did so, whispering sweet nothings and encouragement in his ear. He kissed his temple as Crowley kept at the speed he wanted, praising him for having wonderful self-control. Under his arms, the demon’s breathing stayed at a steady pace and the only noise he was making was the occasional soft whine. So far, so good. Aziraphale wanted him to build to his eventual climax.

“You’re doing wonderfully, my love. Keep going like that. I want you well worked up.”

Crowley trembled with the effort of pleasing Aziraphale when every ounce of his being screamed to take his stroking up a notch. His hands tried to but he was quickly brought back under control by a sharp yank on the hook that made him gasp. Muttering he was sorry, he slowed back down, feeling a bead of sweat form on his temple before it slid down his snake tattoo. Aziraphale noticed, miracling it away before it distracted him, knowing how ultra-sensitive every centimetre of Crowley’s skin became when he was forced to edge like this.

Ultra-sensitive didn’t begin to explain it from Crowley’s point of view. Every nerve fired off, every touch was extreme. All his senses were on full alert — he could hear his own heartbeat and his blood rushed in his ears. Colours exploded before his eyes forcing him to screw them shut before the extra brightness drove him crazy. He could feel his own breathing become faster, swearing he could sense the air enter and leave his very lungs. He whimpered as his co*ck tingled, his body begged for more and he felt like he was going to come completely undone.

“Aziraphale . . . please let me go faster.”

“You may.”

Grateful, Crowley picked up speed, feeling instantaneous relief until it was no longer enough. He was back where he started with his body crying out for more — only release this time and another sharp yank of the hook to keep him in line. Crowley moaned, in absolute overload now, ready to bargain with Aziraphale for release. He’d do anything, even if “anything” meant helping Aziraphale reorganize books in the bookshop, the most boring task ever. Nearly hyperventilating, he could barely get the words out.

“I need to come, sir. Please let me come. I can’t . . .”

“What will you do for me in return? Your dusting has been a bit sloppy lately and you keep forgetting you are no longer allowed clothing in the bookshop unless you’re out of the flat while I’m open.” Aziraphale reached over to his nipples to tweak those sensitive rings. “You agreed to these rules. If they are not working for you, then we need to have a discussion. Otherwise, you are to follow them.”

“I will follow them, sir. I can’t hold back. Please?”

“You may finish.” Aziraphale held him tightly as he shuddered through a strong org*sm, his cries echoing to the edges of the shield Aziraphale erected. “There you go. I’m proud of you for holding out that long. You did wonderfully, my dear. I love you so much.”

He vanished the anal hook back to the steamer trunk in the bookshop’s flat and lay with Crowley, still bound, on his chest for a while. They were silent, although Aziraphale was aware Crowley was basking in the praise he lavished on him as much as the org*sm itself. He gave him that time to process, listening to the nighttime sounds of London around them. Crowley finally stirred.

“Thank you, sir. What can I do for you?”

“Nothing right now,” replied Aziraphale. “But I think tomorrow I’d like to cuff your hands behind your back, place that hood on you and have you give me a long slow blow j*b. I was going to use the hood tonight, but I completely forgot about it.”

“I hate that damn hood.”

It was black padded leather with a blindfold but open mouth. His hearing was muffled in it and the darkness only added the sensory deprivation which was worse, in his opinion, than sensory overload. Aziraphale used such things to test his obedience and he would tolerate it to please his angel. Knowing what he did, he did for Aziraphale’s pleasure was a greater feeling than the bit of aversion he felt towards the hood. He nodded.

“I’ll wear the hood. Only for you, angel.”

“I know you will.” Aziraphale hugged him closer than he already was. “I love that you do your best to please me. Tomorrow night we should see if there’s a concert. It’s been a while since we have been to the symphony.”

“I can check it out later.”

Crowley would, but for now, they would lay wrapped in a shield of privacy in Hyde Park enjoying the night for a few more hours before they returned to the bookshop. Climbing the spiral staircase, they made directly for the bedroom upon entering the flat to sleep the rest of the night away. Aziraphale would keep Crowley in bed the next morning, lavishing a bit more attention on him before sending him to the kitchen to make tea. The demon flourished in this new dynamic and even more so if rewarded and praised. Aziraphale loved him enough to want to see him as happy as he himself was in their relationship. After millennia under Hell’s thumb, Crowley deserved to live a contented life.

~*~*~

Heaven

“How long until it’s completed?” Gabriel asked the angel in charge of construction. “We have finalized our plan and hope to implement it soon, but we need those cells done.”

“I would say about five days tops, Archangel.”

“Good, thank you.”

He turned back to the other Archangels with a grin. “I’d say it’s a go. Clear your calendars because you’re not going to want to miss this one.”

Chapter 25: A Day No Wiles Were Thwarted

Chapter Text

Crowley loved suspension now that they had tried it. To be tied securely in rope, its coils hugging him tightly without hurting too much — a bit of pain was inevitable when one was hanging by the ropes binding them — and he could stay happily in a well-done bit of rigging for hours if Aziraphale would let him. Right now he had earned some time in rope and was cradled from head to toe in a kind of soft swing of hemp, hanging about a metre and a half off the floor while Aziraphale shelved books nearby. A human rigger would have had to stay nearby for safety’s sake, but miracles kept Crowley from meeting with disaster so Aziraphale could work while he relaxed in his bindings.

“What about it appeals to you?” Aziraphale had asked when they discovered how much Crowley enjoyed it.

“I don’t know. It’s like being squeezed in a hug or something. Or maybe I just have a thing for tight spaces,” Crowley had joked.

“You’re a demon, not a snake,” Aziraphale had replied, even though demons, as well as snakes, could enjoy tight spaces.

Currently, Crowley was using a small wish to make the hammock he was tied in rock softly. Sighing, he closed his eyes, enjoying the gentle movement and finally understanding what human babies saw in the motion. He had rocked his charge to sleep many a time as Warlock’s nanny because it worked, but he had never delved into the reasons behind it working. Now he had a good idea of why. The soft movement was very relaxing. He hadn’t felt like this since he floated on the waves in the Caribbean. Too bad rope didn’t come with the sounds of oceanic waves washing up on a white sand beach.

“Are you doing all right, my dear?”

“I’m great.”

“Just a little while longer. I don’t believe falling asleep in that would be a good idea.”

“It’s just a hammock.” Crowley yawned.

“Well, most of the time people aren’t tied to their hammocks.”

“Most people aren’t me. I rather enjoy it.”

“And I’m glad they aren’t. You’re wonderful but one of you is enough.”

“I am Legion for we are many.”

“Hush, Crowley, or you’ll get taken down even sooner.” Quoting demons from the Bible was not an activity Aziraphale approved of, even if it was a demon quoting demons.

But to Crowley’s delight, Aziraphale became immersed in his cataloguing, falling so far into tunnel vision that he forgot Crowley was up in ropes. By the time he recalled his partner, Crowley had got in a quite nice nap. He opened one eye upon the sound of footsteps approaching to look at a cross Aziraphale. The angel stopped in front of him, hands on his hips.

“You should have said something.”

“I fell asleep. It’s too comfortable.”

“I do not wish to cause any damage to your human corporation. It’s time to get these ropes off.”

Gently Aziraphale lowered Crowley to the ground before undoing the knots at his wrists, ankles and other points on his trunk and limbs that helped safely suspend him. Each knot took longer to undo as the length of unknotted rope grew. Surprisingly, yet thankfully, Crowley was patient during this process, allowing Aziraphale to do what he needed to without unleashing any of his sarcastic temper. He was helped to his feet as soon as the last of the rope fell from his body. It coiled in a mess around his feet but Aziraphale would wind it back up into its hank for storage after he attended to Crowley.

“There you go, my dear. Nothing asleep?”

“No, I’m good, thank you.”

He remembered to add to the verbal thank you, pausing to give Aziraphale a loving kiss before strolling around the closed bookshop to walk off any potential cramps. He stopped to look at what his partner was doing in the back corner full of dark shelves few ventured into. Poking around, he found that he was rearranging the titles that didn’t sell well, bringing bestsellers up to the front of the shop and stashing ones he couldn’t get rid of if he was to pay someone to take them off his hands back here. Huh. Aziraphale had started to get serious about selling books.

“Are you feeling okay, angel?”

“Yes. Everything is tickety-boo. Why do you ask?” He was bent over, wrapping up the rope for storage.

“You’re putting the bestsellers out front. What possessed you to actually sell books?”

“Well, we need some kind of income.”

“I just miracle the money into my bank account. You know I’ll share it with you.” Crowley sauntered back out to where Aziraphale was making up a display of new arrivals.

“I know, but that’s cheating.”

“It’s still money going into the economy.”

There was a pause before he answered. “True.”

“You do what you wish with the bookshop. I’ve got us covered.”

“Making an honest living isn’t so bad. It’s not like I have overhead, so it’ll replace my celestial wages.”

Crowley could tell Aziraphale was not that interested in talking about it. The angel’s focus was on Crowley’s uncovered body rather than the actual topic at hand. He noticed his sky blue eyes scanning him up and down, left and right. He smiled. Lecherous little angel. Crowley threw his arms around his neck, leaning in close enough to leave a peck on the tip of his nose.

“You’d rather talk about other things, wouldn’t you? I always notice when you can’t keep your eyes off of me.”

He rubbed against Aziraphale, bring them hip to hip and feeling Aziraphale’s response to his rather simple and lazy method of getting the angel going again. Aziraphale may have gone on about wanting Crowley naked when they were in private as a symbol of the differences in their roles in the dynamic as well as a few other excuses, but Crowley knew Aziraphale enjoyed the view, and he agreed to shed his clothing in the bookshop and its flat because it made seducing the angel that much easier. He walked away to go lean against one of the pillars by the oculus seductively, stretching out his full length while Aziraphale pointedly attempted to ignore him.

“We did some play and I have books to take care of if I am going to make a go of actually selling them.”

Crowley waved a hand around. “There. Done.”

“Crowley! You know I don’t like to miracle the books around! Our powers can fade the ink.”

“Once isn’t going to hurt. I just might discorporate if I don’t get enough attention.”

“That’s obvious.” Aziraphale fixed him with a harsh stare. “Maybe I should have left you in that suspension.”

“I can think of other things we can do. Oral’s always nice. Mix and match genitalia. Kissing and cuddling.”

Crowley was being more transparent and clingy than plastic wrap, but he didn’t care. He was a touch-oriented creature and it was Aziraphale’s touch he wanted. Aziraphale eventually relented. It was either that or truss him up in some corner with a ball gag stuffed in his mouth for a bit of peace. That only worked if Crowley then got enough rough sex to satisfy him for a few days. Yes, Aziraphale knew all his tricks and was too soft to not cave in to them a lot of the time.

“Go upstairs and get out your cuffs.”

Crowley quickly disappeared. Aziraphale loitered down in the bookshop watching the shadows of the setting sun deepen as he allowed the demon to cool his heels for some time. He took ten or so minutes to straighten up some particularly messy displays before following after him. Opening the front door, he found Crowley on his cushion by Aziraphale’s reading chair with the cuffs beside him. Looking at the eager demon, an idea came to him and one Crowley probably wasn’t going to like.

He told him to wait just one minute longer while he went to the bedroom to fetch one more item. Coming back, he set it on the couch and waiting for Crowley to register what it was. His eyebrow rose upon noticing it. He shot Aziraphale an incredulous look.

“Chastity belt?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Why, sir?”

“You have your choice. I can give you what you want, but you’re getting locked in that for the weekend. Or you can give me a blow j*b without expectation of reciprocation and you’ll get org*sms this weekend. Of course, it does mean mix and match genitalia. You have the wrong kind to fit into that right now. Oh, maybe I’ll switch, too. It’s been a while since you’ve given me that kind of oral.” Aziraphale put down the cuffs he was going to use on Crowley. Oral with a vagin* worked out so much better if the giver could use hands as well.

“Why do you do this to me, angel?”

“Sometimes you need it, my dear.”

“Something about subs not making demands, right?”

“Possibly. I think it’s a lesson you are going to have to learn on your own because apparently I am unable to teach it to you.”

“And if I ask nicely?”

“You might get what you want, but not this time. I gave you a choice. org*sm followed by the belt, pleasuring me with the chance that I won’t reciprocate, or you can decide we’re not doing anything at this time.”

“Fine. Put on whatever genitals you want, sir. I’ll give you oral.”

Soon Aziraphale was on the couch wearing a vagin*, Crowley between his legs as he knelt on the floor before him to worship in hopes of getting something in return. Sometimes Crowley had selfish moments and this very much was one of those moments. Flattening out his preternaturally long tongue, Crowley started at the bottom of Aziraphale’s vulva and drew it upward to wet the entire area. He circled his cl*t teasingly before drifting off to the side to kiss along one inner thigh while using his hand to caress the other one. Moving on, he inserted a finger knowing how much Aziraphale liked him to take it slow instead of immediately tackling his cl*tor*s and going wild on it like some kind of out-of-control sex fiend. He swirled his finger around, feeling the wetness start to slowly grown and curled up towards Aziraphale’s belly to stroke the silky tunnel while he moaned.

“Like that, angel?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, going to keep warming you up.”

He concentrated on stroking inside for a few minutes knowing it felt good but not spectacular compared to play in other areas. But this was warm-up, which meant building up Aziraphale’s desires so he’d get the best outcome. A good org*sm or four meant maybe Crowley got something in return. The demon licked his lips, preparing to return to using his mouth. Kissing along the outer labia, he slowly removed his finger, replacing it with his mouth. A few playful flicks of his tongue entered Aziraphale’s slit where his finger had been before he headed further up to gently lick along there. He circled the angel’s cl*t avoiding it for now as he spread the wetness around, coating every area he might cover with a mixture of it and his saliva. Teeth were acceptable as long as he kept it gentle, prompting him to very tenderly nibble on Aziraphale’s vulva until he heard a gasp from above. A hand came down to stroke the top of his head and he felt a rush of pleasure that he was doing things right.

“Keep going, Crowley, you’re doing wonderfully.”

He licked up and down the sides, being sure to hit the areas that caused Aziraphale’s leg to shake — a sign the angel was enjoying it — and weaving in and out, on and off of the cl*t in a teasing dance that he enjoyed giving. He looked up from his work to see Aziraphale panting and grinned. It was working, but his tongue was tired. Time to return to fingers that could stroke and rub while his mouth took a much-needed break. He sought out the cl*t hood, gently petting it before placing two fingers on either side of the angel’s cl*t. Snug up against it on both sides, he rubbed up and down. There. Now he was starting to see results as Aziraphale bucked around him. He placed his other hand soothingly on his leg, giving a gentle touch to get him to calm down before one of his knees knocked into the side of Crowley’s head. There was nothing like suddenly getting bashed over the head while doing oral to end a good time.

“There you go. Enjoy it. I love seeing you get worked up.”

“Oh, Crowley. How is it you’ve got so very good at this?”

Aziraphale could feel it all building, the indescribable sensation that was born in his cl*t then as Crowley unleashed his oral skills upon his targeted area grew beyond the tiny nub that was merely the tip of the iceberg. It was tingling all along his vulva and he felt it up on the inside as well, threatening to spill over into org*sm if he couldn’t keep control of it. His thigh shook like it always did and his mind was starting to get in on the fun, the strange connection between it and his groin producing a pleasurable feeling that he wished would never go away. He lay here enjoying every last bit of sensation until time passed him by and the bookshop fell in around him. Crowley’s tongue had exchanged places with his fingers and soon the licks turned into sucking. Aziraphale could handle no more.

“I’m there Crowley! I’m there!”

It all flooded him, stereotypically exploding like fireworks from his point of view. He arched his back, moaning loudly as he almost ground himself hard against Crowley, remembering himself just in time. Dominant did not have to mean rude. If Crowley wanted to shove his face in there, that was one thing but Aziraphale was not going to do that for him, at least unasked. It always startled the demon, ending the mood quicker than a bucket of ice down one’s shirt. He screamed through his org*sm holding on to the tangled remains of his self-control. But that evil demon wasn’t done. Aziraphale was panting with the strength of the first when he brought on a second, then a third and just kept doing it until the angel could handle it no longer.

“Okay! Enough Crowley! Please! Enough! Let me take a break here!”

A pair of sly serpentine eyes looked up at him and Aziraphale knew Crowley had won this round. He’d get something in return as soon as Aziraphale had a chance to climb down off the org*smic ledge he was currently perched on. Curse that demon! He could work the system quite well even from the submissive side and Aziraphale couldn’t always fault him for it. Not all wiles he could thwart but musing about it, he didn’t want to. Crowley acted like Crowley through and through. Aziraphale fell in love with that. He would happily deal with the trials of a difficult submissive if it means keeping this wonderful being by his side for eternity.

Chapter 26: On the Wing

Chapter Text

“I simply do not think sex on the wing is possible, Crowley. Contrary to popular belief, birds do not mate in the air, but on the ground,” explained Aziraphale, not looking up from his book. “We can have some fun chasing each other around, doing a bit of kissing, but that’s going to be it.”

“Still might be fun. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve flown?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Neither do I, to be honest. Centuries. Maybe longer.”

Aziraphale smiled down at him. “No matter what we can do, I wouldn’t mind getting the old wings out and stretching them. They only ever come out for grooming once in a while, as you know.”

“You need to get them out more often. You don’t let me groom them enough and if you did, I could have them looking perfect.” Crowley unfolded himself from the couch. “I’m going to head out to research home entertainment systems. If I’m going to basically be living here, there’s going to be a decent home theatre to watch films on. What time do I need to be back?”

“Four o’clock. I’m closing early today.”

“All right. That gives me . . .” Crowley looked at his watch. “Five and a half hours.” He reached over to kiss Aziraphale as he put on his coat. “I’ll see you then.”

As he exited to climb into the Bentley, he didn’t notice Gabriel standing a block away observing the scene. The Archangel pulled out one of the clear rectangles Heaven used for mobiles and put it up to his ear. After a moment, someone answered on the other end.

“The demon’s left the shop, but he always returns at night. I believe we can wait but I’ll need you all down here around five o’clock local time or so. That’s when Aziraphale usually closes up for the night.”

He hung up to watch the Bentley pull away from the kerb and drive off.

~*~*~

Crowley came back an hour early, having found what he was looking for. It would be delivered later in the week and hopefully, Aziraphale wouldn’t think it too much. He did enjoy films as well which Crowley would be happy to mention to him if it came to an argument about keeping it. Entering the shop, he looked around for Aziraphale.

“Angel! I’m back!”

“Oh, you’re home early, my dear.” Aziraphale came to the railing upstairs, leaning on it to speak to Crowley.

“Found what I wanted and I think you’ll like it, too. It’s small enough to fit in the living room without being too obvious. I don’t think you’ll notice a few small speakers.”

Aziraphale looked doubtful. “If you say so. I know you require a certain level of technology when it comes to your films. I’ll be finished in about an hour.”

Crowley bounded up the stairs. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just relax. We’re going to be very busy as soon as the sun sets this evening.”

“There’s nobody around,” replied Crowley. “Close up and come join me for a nap.”

He grabbed Aziraphale by both hands as he walked backward towards the door to the flat, pulled the angel along with him. Aziraphale laughed before pulling his wrists out of Crowley’s grasp.

“Let me go close up, my dear. I cannot leave the door unlocked and the windows uncovered.”

Crowley went to get himself settled in bed with ears perked listening for the front door to open announcing Aziraphale’s arrival. It wasn’t long before he heard it squeak open then shut and Aziraphale’s footfalls in the living room. He heard nothing more until Aziraphale stepped on the squeaky floorboard in the hallway right around the bathroom door. Soon, Aziraphale was in the bedroom, climbing into the bed, pulling him close so Crowley could lay his head on his chest. He nuzzled in, Aziraphale stroking his hair until he fell asleep with a soft snore.

Aziraphale allowed himself to sink into a light doze without going as deep into unconsciousness as Crowley was. Someone needed to stay partially alert so they would be up in time to get in some flying. It still became rather chilly later at night which made things more difficult since, despite their coating of feathers, wings were rather sensitive to the more extreme cold they would encounter while up in the air. All the same, a flight would be nice. They had been built for it but had been required to forget about that mode of transportation to fit in among the humans here on Earth.

As he started to go from fully conscious to catnapping, Aziraphale felt his wings in the ethereal plane, having almost all but forgotten about their existence over the long years spent pretending to be a man rather than a man-shaped celestial being. He realized how much he had missed them and he was excited to fly with Crowley. It wasn’t if they hadn’t flown together in the past but that was merely to get from Point A to Point B, not simply for the sake of getting up in the air for the pure joy of it. He put aside such thoughts, for now, allowing himself some light sleep. He remained asleep until he was awakened by Crowley shifting on his chest while mumbling something unintelligible in his sleep.

Aziraphale carefully reached around him to pull his pocket watch out of his waistcoat. It was already past sunset and he hoped they hadn’t slept too long thus allowing the night air to become too cold to fly comfortably. They were still early enough into spring they were seeing days when average low temperatures were around seven degrees Celsius. It wasn’t freezing, but it was mighty cold on delicate wingtips. Angels had not been created with the cooler weather of England in mind.

“Crowley.” Aziraphale gently shook his demon. “Wake up, love. It’s still early enough we can fly without freezing our wings off.”

“Okay . . . give me a moment here.”

Crowley raised his head, stretching with a wide yawn. He peeled himself off of Aziraphale reluctantly then yanked off the blankets and stumbled out of bed down the hall to the bathroom. Aziraphale heard the tap running and knew he was splashing some cold water on his face to aid in waking up. The angel got himself up and went to the wardrobe where he picked out a vest. Undressing from the waist up, he put it on then redressed. The extra layer along with his frock coat would help keep him warm while they were flying through the cold air above the city. They would have to keep to a specific area of the sky — above where humans on the ground could easily see them but below where aeroplanes travelled.

“Crowley! It’s bound to be cold tonight. You might want to put on an extra layer just to be safe.”

He heard a snapping of fingers before Crowley responded. “Done. Should be fine with that and my coat. Let’s go.”

There was a ladder Aziraphale could get down to get on the roof of the building, but they decided not to bother with it, transporting the short distance with a miracle instead. They stood bathed in the light coming through the skylight from the ground floor of the bookshop below. The sounds of the city floated up from below, the street below mostly empty as shops closed and shoppers headed home. Those who hit the bars and nightclubs that still existed in Soho were the ones out now and none of those establishments was on the bookshop’s block. The only movement was from the traffic passing through on its way to somewhere else.

Crowley breathed in the cool night air. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” With a flourish, Aziraphale took out his wings, their white feathers glowing with a soft highlight of yellow in the light.

Crowley’s were out now, too, glossy black touched with gold in the light. “Come catch me.”

He leapt into the air, taking off at a dizzying speed as his wings were streamlined and thin, meant for flying at a rapid rate. Aziraphale took to the sky with less grace, having wings that were fuller and more meant for slower long-distance flying. It made sense. Aziraphale had a Garden to guard while Crowley needed a quick getaway if he encountered an angel.

With great wingbeats, Aziraphale got high enough to catch a thermal always keeping the black figure in front of him in view. Crowley slowed down to allow him to catch up, his great black wings hardly flapping as he glided along. With a steady deliberate pace, he caught up to the more acrobatic Crowley who flipped himself upside down in an aerial cartwheel as Aziraphale approached then swung back right as the angel laughed.

“Show off!” he called into the wind.

Crowley grinned. “C’mon! You’re such a cautious flyer! Live a little!”

“No, thanks! I’m fine! Really!”

They flew now side-by-side, as close as their immense wingspans would allow, sitting just off of each other’s wingtips as they soared through the clear sky. Eventually, they just maintained their positions, wings beating to keep them airborne while they hovered facing each other daring to possibly upsetting the delicate balance by reaching out to kiss one another. Tentative about it, Aziraphale kept the kiss chaste as he clung to Crowley’s hands, afraid of tumbling out of the sky.

“I won’t let you fall,” murmured Crowley.

The kiss heated up, Crowley pressing harder as he silently requested Aziraphale open his mouth by licking along his lips and the angel finally did. Crowley flicked his long tongue in and out, turning the kiss sloppy as they bobbed with nothing below them but the night air. Aziraphale didn’t mind their movements got in the way of a good romantic kiss. Not everything was going to turn out perfect and it didn’t matter in the end. They were out having fun and expressing their love for each other. Sometimes that was worth an ill-executed deep kiss on the wing.

As suddenly as he requested the kiss, Crowley was off again, laughing as he sped towards the countryside just beyond London. Aziraphale followed behind, silent as an owl on his fluffy white wings, his strong beats eating up the distance between him and Crowley. It didn’t take him too long to catch up making him suspect Crowley was going easy on him, not that he minded. He wasn’t the best of flyers and readily admitted to it. Crowley swung around to fly above him, turning upside-down with the help of a miracle.

“You getting cold or anything, angel?”

“I’m fine, my dear.”

They took off again, playing among the clouds with chases interrupted by kisses, unaware they were no longer alone. Four gathered around them, keeping their distance, for now, waiting to strike when the time was right. They kept low, using the buildings of London as cover. Crowley and Aziraphale had no idea of the danger they were in until Crowley saw a flash of violet-tinged white on the roof of an apartment building far below them. Alarmed, he flew close to Aziraphale, grabbing his hand in a protective gesture.

“I think we need to get back to the bookshop.”

“Why?”

“We’re not alone. Look.” He pointed out the wing feathers and Aziraphale froze.

“Archangels,” he said, looking helplessly at Crowley. “We’re too far away!”

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Kiss me. Act like you don’t notice. Then I want you to take off as fast as you can and I’ll chase after you. Our chance is in speed. Use miracles if you have to. Just get there as quickly as you can. You put wards on it, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Transport in if you have to. I know they can interrupt that, but do it as a last resort.”

They kissed then with a false laugh, Aziraphale took off in the direction of Soho. Crowley was right behind him yelling for him to wait up. It wasn’t enough. Uriel and Sandalphon were on their tail almost immediately. Crowley was confident he could outfly them, but that would mean leaving Aziraphale to their mercies which he would not do. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he smelled the ozone. Oh, God . . . they were getting ready to smite. His breath hitched in panic as he noticed Michael and Gabriel approach from their right.

“Just do it, Aziraphale! Get out of here! Go!”

A bolt of energy flew past his wingtip, just missing him. He rolled to keep it from hitting him.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale called to him.

“Go!”

Aziraphale flew around a building, landing on the roof and concealing himself with the help of his powers. It would only help temporarily until they decided to search for his power signature, but maybe it would buy them some time. The only issue was that he was no longer visible to Crowley, either. The demon zoomed by above him, searching but afraid to call out his name. Aziraphale took off silently again, keeping low and weaving on somewhat inexpert wings around buildings trying to stay out of the line of sight and power-seeking miracles. Landing again, he did the distasteful and drew to himself smiting energy, keeping it at his fingertips as he took off once again.

He could see the flame above him. Crowley had the same idea and was letting hellfire play along his hands. The demon streaked off into the distance, none of the Archangels close to him. Aziraphale sighed in relief. But it was premature. As he landed again, Gabriel caught up him, cutting off his escape route.

“Aziraphale. There’s nowhere to go so just come quietly.”

“I will not go anywhere with an Archangel again, Gabriel. And haven’t we already been through this? You were not able to harm me before.”

"Oh, but this time I think we will. I really do think we will.” He smiled humourlessly and Aziraphale stepped back with a sudden fear leaping into his throat.

Far ahead, Crowley saw the bookshop straight ahead and dove for it, believing Aziraphale had taken his advice and transported straight in. He flung open the doors and searched the entire ground floor looking for his angel. All he could remember right now was doing this once before only then the place was on fire.

“Aziraphale! Where are you? Are you here? Aziraphale!”

Panic took over and he sprinted out again, taking to the air at a speed that would have made Aziraphale dizzy. Climbing high above the city, he spotted Aziraphale shooting up off a building in a desperate attempt to escape Gabriel. Igniting the hellfire, he headed after them, determined that Gabriel would burn for daring to hurt his angel. It was then he remembered his collar, and not wanting it to get in the way if it came to a physical fight, vanished it back to the bookshop, a bit of guilt going with it. But Aziraphale’s safety was more important right now.

“You will stop right where you are, Crowley,” said Gabriel as the other Archangels closed in on Aziraphale.

Crowley found himself unable to move. He struggled to do more than keep his wings flapping so he didn’t tumble out of the sky. Aziraphale was surrounded now with nowhere to go while Crowley was frozen in place. He attempted to speak, getting out only a whimper.

“Crowley?” asked Aziraphale who could see the struggle going on with the demon from his vantage point several metres above him. He looked angrily at Gabriel. “What did you do to him?”

“A little mind control. He’ll be fine. For now. But you two won’t escape punishment a second time,” replied Gabriel. “And you’re going to love what I have planned out for this latest round. Crowley, go back to the bookshop and wait for me.”

Crowley flew off without a word.

“See?” Gabriel said to Aziraphale. “That demonsbane came in handy. Your boyfriend is going to do whatever I tell him to whether he wants to or not.”

Aziraphale could only look helplessly from the Archangel to the spot where Crowley had been.

“Just don’t hurt him. Please?”

“He’s not the one who’s going to get hurt, Aziraphale. At least not physically.”

Chapter 27: Imprisoned

Chapter Text

Crowley wasn’t there when they smote Aziraphale unconscious and dragged him back to Heaven. He found himself alone in the bookshop with no recollection of how he got back nor any idea where Aziraphale was. In a repeat of his actions not half an hour earlier, he ran from bookshelf to bookshelf looking for the angel. Dread filled him again as he thought about the fire of almost three years prior and how he nearly lost his best friend.

“Aziraphale! Where are you? Please come out!”

He sank to the floor, sliding down against a bookshelf to the well-worn rug below, head in his hands as he burst out screaming in anger. Gabriel and his thugs had his angel. That was the only logical explanation. Why he didn’t remember coming back here? Or that Aziraphale was in trouble? What was wrong with him?

“Crowley.”

He looked up at the sound of Gabriel’s voice, hellfire forming again on his fingertips. He stood up slowly, encircling himself with the lethal flames as he glared at the Archangel.

“Where is Aziraphale? Bring. Him. Back.”

“That’s not going to happen and you know it, Crowley. In fact, you helped us out by feeding us information. You didn’t have much of a choice in the matter but that makes you a traitor all over again, doesn’t it? You betrayed your own boyfriend.”

“Couldn’t do it on your own? You needed a demon to help you?” The flames leapt higher with Crowley’s anger. “And no, I’m not a traitor. If you’re somehow forcing me to do things that I don’t recall doing then it’s not my fault. I don’t play your games, Gabriel. Just tell me how you did it, then give me Aziraphale back.”

He was not going to let Gabriel know the knowledge he did do something to harm Aziraphale was already starting to eat away at him.

Gabriel waved his hand. “Remember, Crowley, what you did. How the pollen made you willing to give up all your secrets.”

Crowley clutched his head as new information filled it. Information he did not want to know now beat against his skull showing exactly how he had betrayed the angel he loved. He whimpered in response, the hellfire flames dying out so that he was only surrounded by a ring of smoke. Gabriel chuckled at his pain.

“Modified demonsbane that we can breed. I can make sure you stay under our control indefinitely. Hell has no further interest in punishing you for what you did. They would rather stick their heads in the sand and pretend the past few years never occurred. Since they don’t care what happens to you, I decided you’d be a good way to get to Aziraphale.”

Crowley leapt at him in rage only to find that his body wouldn’t cooperate. Instead, he stumbled forward, landing face-first on the bookshop floor, his cheeks burning with the humiliation of not being able to control his movements. Above him, Gabriel laughed, adding salt to his wounds.

“I’ll make sure you pay for this.”

“As long as I keep you dosed with the proper amount of demonsbane pollen that won’t be possible, Crowley. You belong to me. I hear you can be a very good submissive.”

Crowley scrambled to stand up only to feel an invisible hand on his back pushing him down against the floor. He growled in frustration. “If I ever get the chance, I won’t hesitate to conjure hellfire down upon you, Gabriel.”

“I understand you have a body count. It’s only natural that a demon would but I’m not going to be your next victim. Let’s go. I have plans for you.”

They both disappeared, Gabriel transporting them to Heaven.

~*~*~

“Where’s Crowley? I demand to know what you have done with him!”

Aziraphale awakened to find himself alone in a newly created cell being guarded by Uriel and Sandalphon. He glared at them as they stood outside it looking rather bored at being stuck here babysitting him. Sandalphon kept picking at his nails while Uriel glared back at Aziraphale.

“Shut up,” she said. “You’ll find out soon enough what’s going on.”

Aziraphale sat back down on the stark white bench that was the only furniture in his cell. Next to him was another cell separated by bars but it remained empty and that worried him to his core because he assumed it was meant for Crowley. If they found out he was not truly immune to holy water . . . Aziraphale couldn’t bring himself to think about that. He had seen first-hand what holy water did to a demon and if that ever happened to Crowley, his one wish would be that someone would douse him with hellfire, allowing him to join Crowley. There would be nothing left for him without Crowley. If this was to be the end of it all, he prayed they both would be allowed to pass on into permanent death. He would also hope beyond hope they would be executed together, so they could fall into that dreamless sleep as one.

His heart breaking, he allowed his head to fall back against the cold white marble that made up the sides of the cell. Uriel noticed, but said nothing. Sandalphon continued to pay him no attention.

Oh, Crowley. What have we got ourselves into?

He endured an agonizing wait in silence for answers, stirred out of the terrible thoughts by a loud pop coming from the cell beside him. Gabriel had shown up, the collar of Crowley’s shirt grasped tightly in his fist. He threw the demon to the floor by the bars separating the cages and Aziraphale could hear the breath rush from Crowley’s lungs as he hit the floor. He struggled to sit upright.

“You will sit there and not move,” said Gabriel.

Crowley had managed to shift to a seated position against the bars where he froze upon Gabriel’s command. His legs refused to stand up and his hands remained limp on his thighs. He couldn’t even turn his head to look at Aziraphale and assess his condition, but he could hear his angel’s breath come in ragged bursts.

“Mind control is a wonderful thing, Aziraphale. Don’t expect your boyfriend to be able to move from that spot. He won’t be able to at all until I give him the okay.” Gabriel exited the cell, closing the door behind him. He approached Aziraphale’s cell, leaning down to peer in at the captive angel. Aziraphale turned his head to look at him, his face registering the horror of what was being said about Crowley. “Will you blame him when I force him to hurt you? Think about it and talk among yourselves. He’s allowed to speak even if he isn’t allowed to move. We’ll give you an hour or so alone before we start the festivities.”

All three Archangels exited the room containing the cells.

Crowley heard Aziraphale leave the bench and soon felt his hands on his back and his lips kissing the nape of his neck.

“I won’t hurt you, angel. Ever.”

“Shh, I know you won’t. I’m sorry, Crowley. I should have investigated better and not given up when it came to nothing. I know now they wanted us to hit dead ends, and they planted information. Michael told me before she left to make some preparations. They also used poor Nuriel, knowing that she’d come to speak to me. They left her a trail to give to us, and we stupidly followed it. I do hope they don’t punish her, but they do seem inclined to just leave her alone thinking she’s some kind of joke.”

“I remember everything. Gabriel first summoned me when we were on the island. Had me walk out on the dock past the privacy spell to tell him everything then he made me forget I ever did it. Then two weeks after that. And every fortnight when I went to check on my flat because demonsbane doesn’t last forever. I was stupid for fighting it in front of him and I did it every damn time. It kind of clued him in. So I got dosed again every fortnight. I told him everything. There isn’t a thing he doesn’t know about us. I’m sorry, angel. I’m so sorry. Forgive me?”

He couldn’t cry so the words just came out with a choking sound as his eyes tried their best to shed tears. He could only speak, blink and look around as much as his limited sight would allow him without turning his head. Aziraphale’s hand tightened on his shoulder and the other one stroked his hair soothingly. He could feel the angel next press his forehead against the bars, brushing against the back of his head as he moved his hand down to his other shoulder.

“It’s not your fault, so please don’t apologize. There is nothing to forgive because those were not your actions. You’d never voluntarily help Heaven or Hell. I know you doubt if you’ll actually hurt me, but I believe you won’t. You didn’t when you were under the full effects of the demonsbane. Fight it, Crowley. Fight it as hard as you can. You concentrate on that and I’ll concentrate on getting us out of here safely.”

“We’re doomed, angel. There are ten million angels and us. We’re not leaving here alive.”

“Hush, Crowley. Please, do what I ask? Even if we die trying to escape from here, it would be better than rotting away in these cells for the amusem*nt of Gabriel and his underlings. If I am going to die . . . then at least I’m dying with you. I love you, Crowley.”

“I love you, too, Aziraphale, even though I’d rather we didn’t die.”

They sat in silence now, nothing more to say out loud. Aziraphale sat down on the cold stone floor reaching through the bars the best he could to touch the immobile Crowley while Crowley wished with all his heart he could touch Aziraphale in return. He choked back a cry and Aziraphale was immediately alert.

“What is wrong?”

“I can’t breathe, except to speak. I have no heartbeat. I’ve had a heartbeat since not long after Eden when I figured out how to make my heart pump blood. I’d been ordered to be involved in wars and it’s not good when you get wounded but don’t bleed. People on your own side want to kill you then. Now, I can’t hear nor feel my heartbeat. It’s not like I heard or felt it all the time . . . just that I got used to it, but now it is conspicuous by its absence.”

“I’m sorry, my love. Here.”

He felt Aziraphale press himself against his back and felt the pumping of his heart, something he did not bother with until they started having a physical relationship and Aziraphale discovered moving blood was required for an erection. The angel felt warm and his heartbeat felt steady through the rigid bars that separated them. Crowley closed his eyes and enjoyed what little Aziraphale could give him right now in this dire situation because he knew he could not expect the angel to remain pressed up against the bars like that indefinitely. It had to be extremely uncomfortable to position himself like that and stay still as a stone.

“Thank you, angel.”

They sat on in silence, Crowley finally getting Aziraphale to stand down before it became too uncomfortable for him.

“I know you’re trying to comfort me, but you can’t stay like that. It’s going to start hurting and it helped.”

He felt the warmth of his partner’s hands back on his shoulders and enjoyed that for what it was. At least they were allowed some touch.

“I never did figure what spleens do,” Crowley admitted in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“I think they’re part of the immune system, so it’s not like we need them.”

“True. Not going to get ill . . . Aziraphale?”

“Yes?”

“Now what do we do?”

“We’ll figure something out. Or the Plan will. It didn’t let us down at the airbase and I have faith it won’t here, either.”

“Yeah. All right, then.”

Crowley sank into further despair. If the Great and Ineffable Plan gave a damn about them, they wouldn’t even be in this situation.

~*~*~

“Is the staging area ready?” Gabriel asked Michael as he returned with Uriel and Sandalphon to the main office of Heaven.

“Yes, but I’m unsure about this. We’ve been given signs those two might be under the Almighty’s protection,” replied Michael. “Their stupid plan to thwart the Apocalypse worked and neither one could be destroyed by the usual methods.”

“The world not ending was the Antichrist’s fault. As for those two? They’ve gone native,” said Sandalphon, the last word leaving his tongue with much derision. “It has nothing to do with the Almighty.”

“And who or what would cause them to go native? Have you asked that?” retorted Michael. “That doesn’t just spontaneously happen.”

Uriel fixed her with a disgusted face. “Whose side are you on, Michael? You’re beginning to sound like you doubt what has been written.”

“Nothing’s been written about this, though. And I’m just nervous. We have never done anything like this before, and we’re doing it without God’s blessing.”

Gabriel shrugged her off with a jovial laugh. “We’ll be fine. If the Almighty didn’t want it to happen, She’d say something. The Metatron hasn’t heard a thing from Her.”

“Metatron hasn’t heard a thing from her in millennia,” Michael muttered to herself.

She was not on Aziraphale’s side. If they managed to get rid of him and the demon lover he had taken, all the better. But on the other hand, she wasn’t interested in going against God’s Will. Although no angel had Fallen since the Revolution, they never did receive any sort of guarantee no angel would ever Fall again. She was God’s Chosen Warrior and must act like it. She said as much.

“Don’t worry too much, Michael,” replied a cavalier Gabriel. “We would be seeing signs if the Almighty wasn’t on board with this. We got signs at the airfield She didn’t want the Apocalypse to go through.”

Michael nodded in defeat. She was wary about helping out but didn’t want to raise suspicions, either. She was no traitor.

“You’re worrying too much,” said Uriel. “It’s one traitor angel and a demon.”

“Think about all the fun we’re going to have,” added Sandalphon with a sad*stic grin.

Michael smiled uncomfortably. “You’re right. I’m just being paranoid in these unusual times.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Gabriel said to her. “I thought long and hard about this plan before deciding to pursue it. Weare in different times right now. It’s good to be a little paranoid, but I think the time for that is over. We need to return everything to the status quo.”

She bobbed her head at him in agreement and escorted the three to the chamber she had prepared for the punishment. Gesturing for them to enter, she showed them how it had been sound-proofed and was escape-proof as well. Neither angel nor demon could use their powers to blast through the shields that had been put on this place that contained a single table for now. It could be arranged to accommodate whatever they needed for the trial and punishment.

“The spells took a while, but it’s ready to go. They’ll never be able to get out of it even if they attempt to.”

Gabriel smiled giddily. “Good. We’ll give them a bit more time alone then let the games begin.”

Chapter 28: Punishment

Chapter Text

Aziraphale’s arms were chained above his head beside a table full of implements not dissimilar to what he and Crowley used in play in the chamber the Archangels had set up to put the two on trial. He had his eyes closed and was breathing in through his nose then out through his mouth in an attempt to keep calm through this ordeal. If he panicked then so would Crowley, who needed to be as unruffled as possible to fight the effects of the pollen on him. Aziraphale had all the faith in the world that he would. They had proof that he could already.

Crowley was marched in to stand right beside the table, his face going pale when he saw Aziraphale chained cruelly to the ceiling, stripped to the waist. He turned away unable to look at what they did to him. Gabriel noticed, striding forward to grab Crowley painfully about the jaw and yank his head to it was facing forward where Aziraphale was. The captive angel smiled reassuringly at him when Crowley yelped in smarting discomfort thanks to Gabriel’s cruelty.

“You will look at him,” commanded Gabriel.

“Piss off.”

Retribution was swift and came as Sandalphon’s fist slammed into Crowley’s stomach. The demon doubled over in pain while Aziraphale gasped, wrenching involuntarily at his cuffs. Puffing, Crowley attempted to stand up again, furious and humiliated. Of course, Gabriel wouldn’t get his hands dirty. Not when he had hand-picked violent angels to round out his little group of sycophants. Sandalphon stepped back, chuckling in that weird stuttering laugh of his.

Gabriel held out a wooden rod to Crowley once the demon recovered from the gut punch. “Take it.”

Crowley was forced to upon Gabriel’s command.

“We’re going to start slow and work you up to more serious things. This is a good warm-up tool, don’t you think? I believe you two have experience with a cane, don’t you? You did tell me a lot, Crowley.”

Crowley blushed as the Archangels laughed around him. His fury grew. How dare Gabriel tell those arseholes about his and Aziraphale’s private life? He gripped the rod tighter, his fingers curling around it until his nails bit into his own palm. He looked up at Aziraphale who was trying his best to look brave but failing in that endeavour. The angel looked downright terrified.

“If you want to get out of here, Crowley, you’re going to punish Aziraphale for his transgressions. He didn’t act like an angel, and he needs to be punished. If we can’t make an example of him with the hellfire, then this is the next best way.”

“Then do it yourself.” It was a stupid and brave thing to say, but both Crowley and Aziraphale had a theory that the Archangels for some reason could not punish Aziraphale themselves. If they were able to, it would have made more sense to just grab the Principality and get the job done rather than go through months of convoluted planning like this.

His arm raised of its own accord, and he stepped close to his partner without input from his own brain but Crowley resisted with all the strength he possessed mixed with all the love that he not only harboured for Aziraphale but Aziraphale had for him. It was like arm-wrestling a bodybuilder. His own muscles fought against him as he stood there shaking with the effort not to swing the rod at the love of his life. He gritted his teeth, grunting with the effort as the implement snapped in his grasp, the pieces falling to the pristine white floor.

“NO!” Crowley shouted, his arm collapsing to his side with an ache like he had never experienced before.

He could hear Aziraphale giving him encouragement, murmuring how good he was doing and how proud he was of him that he was fighting Gabriel’s influence.

“There you go, Crowley. I knew you could do it. I love you, my dear.”

“Get me something to gag him with!” Gabriel snapped and Uriel stepped forward with a roll of tape.

Tearing a piece off, he slapped it over Aziraphale’s mouth, the Principality’s sky blue eyes going wide at the shock of it. Refocusing, he turned his gaze to Crowley, whose serpentine eyes had sought out his. Aziraphale winked at him, trying to play off the tape as nothing to be concerned about. They could shut him up, but they could do nothing to prevent Crowley from feeling the love Aziraphale had for him. He concentrated on making that love as powerful as possible.

I know you can feel it, Crowley. If you can feel desire, then you can feel my adoration for you. Fight them, my love. Do not let them win. Do not let them destroy your soul.

Beside him, the demon held his arm, having torn ligaments in his shoulder in his fight to not strike Aziraphale with the rod. He didn’t know how long he’d be able to keep it up. What he did not only left him with injuries but a mental exhaustion that would eventually be his undoing. His mind could only fight so much before it no longer had the strength to continue. Then what? Would he beat Aziraphale? The thought left him terrified.

Gabriel looked furious. “Fine. If you think fighting me is cute, how about letting Aziraphale watch us torture you instead? Uriel, restrain Crowley. Sandalphon, you have the honours. Michael, make sure Aziraphale watches.”

Aziraphale shook his head violently, his eyes wide with fear.

Oh, lord, I didn’t think this through. I’m sorry, Crowley. Please forgive me.

He watched Uriel chain Crowley in the same manner he was, having no choice as Michael used a miracle to make sure his eyes never left him. Crowley gave him a nonchalant wink, but the pained expression that crossed his face before it arranged itself into a more stoic look told Aziraphale he was in agony from his shoulder. The angel had seen how he was holding his arm and knew he had injured it resisting Gabriel’s control. His eyes filled with tears.

“Are you crying? For a demon?” Michael asked, incredulous. “He is your sworn enemy and you feel compassion for him. And here I thought you were just using him. I had some back-channel connections before Crowley killed Ligur, but only because they were useful. Not because I liked demons in any way.”

Aziraphale ignored her, his attention riveted on Crowley even though it was forced. She could feel the love coming from him and gasped, taking a step away as Sandalphon approached to mete out some punishment to Crowley, who looked impassive about it.

“You do love him! And I thought it was all about controlling a demon. I mean, I’d do it, too, if it meant having power over one. But to love one? How could you?”

Aziraphale didn’t hear her. He was trying his best to keep his tears from falling as Sandalphon punished Crowley for not obeying.

~*~*~

They put them both in the same cell this time with Crowley free from Gabriel’s control. He was in no condition to do much, anyway. A command to keep him from moving would have been pointless. No skin had been broken, therefore; they didn’t need to deal with blood, but he had sustained deep bruises and Aziraphale was convinced some of them went to the very bone. Aziraphale sat on the floor with Crowley’s head in his lap carefully healing all his injuries as he apologized over and over for his lack of foresight. They could not transport their way out of the cells, but they discovered their healing powers still worked. Whether it was an oversight or a way to extend the torture, they did not know.

“S’not your fault, angel,” whispered Crowley. “Been through worse in Hell.”

“What do you mean?”

“Failure is not an option down there. Not getting an assignment done means you get a holiday with the Department of Discipline. If they’re disappointed enough, they spill some blood. I’ve even been branded before. That was the en vogue punishment back around the Salem Witch Trials. Always borrowing from the humans because they have no imagination.” Crowley cuddled in close, sighing in relief as the pain disappeared. “Thank you, angel. Now, what do we do?”

“I don’t know. Let me think on it and tell me if you come up with anything,” Aziraphale replied. “And branding is awful. What is wrong with Hell?”

“It’s just that . . . Hell. They don’t hand out hugs and encouragement if you fail. I don’t remember you ever saying that was a feature of Heaven, either. Either way, it’s in the past, so don’t worry about it. We need to concentrate on the here and now.”

“You need to rest. I’ll think while you get some sleep, my dear.”

“Will do. Love you, angel.”

“I love you, too. I won’t let them hurt you again.”

He pulled as much of Crowley’s body as he could into his lap which would be more comfortable than the chilly floor. As the demon settled in, he stroked his long red hair, hoping he could think of something that would save them both. He wished the bench was wide enough to lay on as he stared at it while he brainstormed. Bench . . . bench . . . Why was that word suddenly tickling at his mind? It was a piece of furniture, and a useless one to them right now.

A bench in a park on a sunny day where they both sat . . . Crowley slouched over in his usual position with Aziraphale seated to his right. The demon held out a hand to him that Aziraphale looked down at. He was gazing upon his own hand being offered to him. Crowley was dressed in his body, all in beiges with blond hair and blue eyes. The hands Aziraphale had folded in his lap were slimmer than his usual pair and had long fingers. Further up, the arms he was currently wearing were dressed in black sleeves. He was staring out at the world through sunglasses that tinted everything he visually perceived.

That was it.

Body swap.

Crowley was currently bearing two separate burdens — the physical one from enduring the pain inflicted upon him as well as a psychological one from both the physical pain and fighting to keep his mind his own. Aziraphale only had to endure the psychological pain of seeing the Archangels punish Crowley. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but what if they used their ability to swap bodies to even out those burdens they had to carry? What if Aziraphale took on some physical burden? If he played the part of Crowley, he wouldn’t be fighting Gabriel mentally. If Crowley was chained up in Aziraphale’s body, he wouldn’t be enduring the physical one. It wouldn’t eliminate the toll on them completely, but it might give them enough of a reprieve if they kept swapping back and forth to keep from completely breaking before they could escape from here.

He told Crowley about the plan and his reasoning when he awoke.

“No,” said Crowley flatly. “I won’t let them beat you.”

“You’re exhausted having to take on both the physical and mental toll of this, Crowley. Swap with me every other day. Let me take on some of that load so you can stay physically and mentally healthy enough for an escape. I know it doesn’t relieve it all. Let’s say you hurt your leg, but you only have the ability to take away half the pain. Wouldn’t you heal it halfway, even if it wasn’t a full cure? Or would you sit there in twice as much pain?”

“I can’t let them hurt you.”

“Yet allowing them to wear you down until you no longer have the resolve to try to escape is fine? Please, Crowley. Let’s try it. It’s not like I’ve never experienced pain in my life. I’ve endured physical punishments at the hands of humans, usually for good deeds they didn’t agree with. Heaven seems to be more interested in verbally abusing its lower-ranking members. I can handle it. Doubly so because I’ll have you there.” Aziraphale was pleading with him now. “Please, Crowley? They’re only doing one session with us a day. I think Gabriel’s motive is to punish then throw us back together in hopes that you taking my punishments will drive a wedge between us. It’s something he would do. It would be hard to break us when we’re presenting a united front. Thus he’ll try to divide us. He’s going to expect you to turn on me because you’re getting the brunt of it. Or if he could make you hurt me, then me to become resentful of you.”

“Are they watching us?”

“No. I checked and there are no spying spells. I would guess that is because they want to leave a secure area for us to squabble in eventually. They’re clever enough to consider that we would present a united front if we were being watched, just as a strategy. The only miracles on these cells are the ones keeping us from transporting out, conjuring items in or picking the locks with a bit of power.”

Crowley held out his hand. “Once. We will try it once and I’ll decide if I want to keep doing it.”

“And I thought I was the one in charge,” teased Aziraphale.

“Not in this case. I have always protected you when I could and I always will.”

“It’s my turn now, Crowley.”

He clasped the demon’s hand and allowed his spirit to leave his body then enter Crowley’s. Feeling disoriented, he looked up at his own pair of blue eyes, watching his mouth grimace as Crowley got used to an angelic corporation.

“I had forgotten how weird this is. I’m cold. Why didn’t you put your shirt back on?”

“You were more important at the time. We should be thankful they allowed me to take it off here instead of stripping me of it in that chamber and not giving it back.”

Crowley sauntered to the bench in his usual manner, which didn’t at all go with Aziraphale’s body, to redress in his shirt and waistcoat. Aziraphale looked at his body wondering if he should lose weight. Crowley caught him gazing thoughtfully at his own belly.

“You’re fine. Don’t even think about it.”

He laid out Aziraphale’s frock coat on the bench and gestured for him to come over. “We might as well conserve energy. We’ll have to sleep sitting up but at least we can use our coats for blankets. I remember Heaven being warmer than this.”

“It’s probably this room. I assume the rest of the place maintains a comfortable temperature. It always did when I visited.”

“Wrap up as best you can in my coat. I’ve got yours, too, if you’re still cold.”

“No, you use it.”

Carefully they settled down, leaning on each other for support and warmth, although sleep was slow to come. Tomorrow would be another day of interrogations or worse, they knew. They could only hope that the body swap worked in their favour. It would not even the odds by any means, but just maybe it would give them a fighting chance.

~*~*~

Uriel peered in the small window of the door to the cell’s room to see the two captives sleeping side by side on the bench. With a snort, she addressed Gabriel, who had accompanied her on her observation.

“It doesn’t look like your idea’s working.”

“Give it time. It’s going to take a while for the resentment to build. If I can’t get Crowley to harm Aziraphale, then we’ll keep punishing Crowley. He’ll turn on him sooner or later. Nobody can take what he’s going to go through for very long without snapping.”

“And if it doesn’t work?” asked a sceptical Uriel as they walked back to the offices.

“We’ll leave the demonsbane plant in the cell. Aziraphale won’t escape a second time. Looking around Crowley’s apartment, it appears Aziraphale opened windows and turned on the ventilation system to get rid of the pollen. There are no windows or vents here. It’ll be him, Crowley and a plant in close quarters where he’ll have nowhere to go.”

Chapter 29: A Show of Strength

Chapter Text

Aziraphale and Crowley were back in the same position sometime later as the measurement of time no longer held meaning when one did not have access to a clock. Crowley had left that ostentatious watch of his at home, not wanting to fly with a large piece of cold metal against his wrist. This session, a disguised Crowley hung shirtless from the ceiling in Aziraphale’s body, while Aziraphale, disguised as Crowley, stood off to the side waiting for Gabriel’s orders.

“If you beat him, I will free you both. I believe the psychological aspect of that punishment will be enough,” Gabriel said to “Crowley”. “I believe it will be very damaging to your relationship to know that at any time I can make you turn him into a bloody mess. How will that sit in your mind? And Aziraphale, what if you knew that not only can your boyfriend hurt you, but you’ll never know when it’s coming. How will that affect your ability to ever see him again? It’s perfect. You two will never be together for fear of what might happen and don't think I don't see that mark. Nobody has seen a love bite since the Revolution. I take it Crowley has a matching one?"

Neither one of them answered, so Gabriel continued, "What if I had Crowley throw hellfire at you sometime, Aziraphale?”

“He wouldn’t,” replied “Aziraphale”.

“I could right now if I wanted to.” Gabriel turned to “Crowley” with an awful grin. “Why don’t you produce a little hellfire and show him I’m serious.”

“Crowley” twisted up his face, pretending to resist. In his chains, “Aziraphale” whimpered softly, finding he still had to fight off Gabriel’s influences even though they were directed at the demonic body across from him. This wasn’t going to work. This couldn’t work. Aziraphale had it all wrong.

“How long do you think he can resist?” asked Michael. “It’s going to wear him down sometime.”

“Soon enough. We just need to have some patience.” Gabriel said. “I’m actually warming up this idea of keeping our two love birds apart. How long have you two been pining after each other? Then you think it’s safe to be together, but it’s not. You get only a short amount of time before I break you apart again. What’s that like? That has to be rough.”

“And they’ll have eternity to think it over.” Uriel’s tone was positively one of glee. “This does seem better than executing them. Humans have died of broken hearts. They must be extremely painful.”

Sandalphon only added his strange laughter to the conversation.

Crowley seethed in his shackles, wishing for all the world that he could visit revenge on all four Archangels. They would go up in hellfire smoke the moment he had control of himself again.

“Let’s move on, shall we?” asked Gabriel. “It’s quite simple what’s going to happen here . . . You see, Crowley, Aziraphale is still considered part of Heaven. We attempted to execute him but since that failed, he’s considered innocent under Heaven’s laws. An angel who has not committed a crime cannot officially be ejected from Heaven and enjoys certain protections. In other words, no being of Heaven can touch him. But you aren’t of Heaven, are you, Crowley? I can command you to punish him.”

Aziraphale panicked, dangerously close to breaking character. He had come to expect cruelty from angels, but not this level of cruelty. He stepped closer to Crowley, wanting with all his heart to protect his demon from the awfulness that Heaven had become.

“Go ahead, Crowley. Pick up an implement and use it. Grab something metal off that table. Show Aziraphale what kind of damage we can do with it.”

Aziraphale’s gaze flicked to Crowley, who nodded very slightly in return. Swallowing down his panic, he jerkily picked up a short piece of pipe that would break bones if swung at someone hard enough. Holding it alone made him sick to his stomach, and he realized how lucky he was right now that his stomach was empty. It would not do to throw up in front of Gabriel, possibly giving away their game. His hand shook as he held it, appropriate for the circ*mstances. After all, he was supposed to be Crowley fighting against mind control therefore, it would help if it looked like he was waging a war with his own muscles. He raised it above his head, the pipe shaking even more violently. He stepped forward again to make it look genuine, the movement halting, hesitant enough to look real.

“Good job, angel.” Crowley breathed it out almost silently, his lips not moving. The Archangels were none the wiser.

Gasping and panting, Aziraphale made a show of “fighting” his arm, the pipe tipping this way and that in his grasp while the five other beings in the chamber watched him — four hoping he’d strike the bound “Aziraphale”, Crowley all but praying they didn’t see through his pantomime. The struggle might have been false, but the suspense growing thick in the air was very, very real and Aziraphale found himself about ready to hyperventilate from it all. He shut down his breathing.

The pipe clattered to the floor as Aziraphale shrieked “NO!” with Crowley’s voice.

“This is ridiculous.” Gabriel turned on his heel to leave, followed by his sycophants.

Aziraphale collapsed against Crowley sobbing, not registering he was crying against his own waistcoat while the demon ached to hold him. The two stood there taking what comfort they could from each other, Crowley finding it odd to be staring down at the top of his own head. But it wasn’t to be helped. No matter what body he was wearing, that was still his angel breaking down because of the cruelty of his former co-workers. Anger flared in Crowley. How dare they?

“You are doing wonderfully, my dear. You keep up the good fight. Remember that I love you no matter what, you wily old serpent.” Crowley mimicked Aziraphale’s speech patterns to the best of his ability, not knowing if they were still being watched even though they were alone.

“I love you, too, angel,” Aziraphale replied. “I will not let them hurt you.”

“I know.”

They weren’t alone any more. Gabriel had re-entered carrying with him the one thing that neither Crowley nor Aziraphale ever wanted to lay eyes on again. It was a pot containing a ubiquitous-looking plant with delicate blood-red flowers. Crowley recoiled as much as the chains would allow him; Aziraphale gripped on tighter. Without a word, Gabriel set the plant down and exited.

Crowley was breathing heavily now, his chest rising and falling against Aziraphale’s head. “They’re going to find out our trick. I’m going to change and that will be that. I won’t be able to harm you but that doesn’t mean they can’t clear the room and try again. Get back, Aziraphale. Just get away from me and hope I don't break these chains.”

“No. You won’t change nor will you hurt me. You didn’t before. I’m not moving. Do you feel love?”

“I feel your love. I felt it the last time we were in here.”

“Then concentrate on it like you never had before. I won’t let you change. I won’t let you hurt me.”

“Quit being stupid, Aziraphale, and get back.”

“No.”

“Angel,” the tone was pleading even though they were speaking at low levels. “Please? I can feel it happening.”

“I left your side once before when it was important. I will not ever do that again.”

Crowley could feel Aziraphale’s love growing stronger as it became a powerful presence in the chamber, filling up every corner while it wrapped Crowley in a feeling of well-being and calm that wasn’t his. He sobbed as it touched him, knowing that at any moment he would transform into some kind of mindless monster putting the being who loved him enough to pour it out into an entire room in grave danger. Begging Aziraphale one last time, he felt his own mind begin to fog. Horns began to grow and would be visible soon through Aziraphale’s curly blond hair.

“No . . . no . . .”

He burst into flame, a powerful hellfire that cleansed him of the pollen, allowing his mind to return to its normal state. It burned over him, fuelled by love despite being a weapon born in Hell itself, and he panicked as he looked down upon his own body laying on his chest, consumed in the fire as well. Aziraphale was going to burn to ash because of him. Crowley staggered to one side, tethered to the ceiling by the blasted chain that kept him from escaping from the wonderful angel he wanted to save. His panic turned to grief, a final wish that they would just get it over with and rain holy water down on him to end it all.

Aziraphale didn’t see Crowley erupt into hellfire, having his head buried against the demon’s borrowed chest and by the time he felt the warmth, it was too late for him to save his own skin. As he felt the heat lick along his arms, around to his torso and over the rest of him, he silently said his goodbyes to Crowley and made sure he knew that he loved him no matter what, even through this. He stared at the black coat of the corporation he currently wore expecting it to turn to ash at any moment but only felt the flames as they headed towards the floor, racing down his legs to the snakeskin boots he wore.

What?

It burned like a too-hot shower, but he was not coming undone as he expected. His molecules weren’t unravelling to be scattered across the universe while his consciousness ceased to be. He lifted his head in time to see Crowley, with a show of easy strength, pull the chain from the ceiling and break the shackles off one hand like they were not designed to hold a supernatural being in place. Sending the hellfire up the chain, he wrapped it around his hand then looked at Aziraphale who unwrapped himself from his love although Crowley still held on to his hand to keep the hellfire coating him. As long as they were both cloaked in it, they would be safe. No angel would dare approach them.

“We’re leaving,” Crowley said simply as he smiled at Aziraphale. “If you would show me the way. The first time I got kicked out, I was booted over the side and the second time, they showed me the door so quickly it left my head spinning. I think this exit is going to be a little more graceful.”

“Of course, my dear. Let’s head out of this room and I’ll see if I can get my bearings.”

They stepped out into the stark white hallway unpopulated by any other beings and Aziraphale, not knowing where they were promptly got them lost. He mumbled an apology to Crowley, who had unwound the chain by several links, turning it into a potential weapon if any being threatened them.

“Don’t worry about it. I doubt this is a part of Heaven you’ve ever spent time in before. Let’s head right.”

Right put them directly in the path of some angelic file clerk who had not heard about the pair of hellfire-encased beings currently on the loose in Head Office. They froze, folders dropping from their numb hands.

“Excuse me,” said Aziraphale pleasantly as if he wasn’t engulfed in flames. “Can you point us the lift?”

“Lift?” the angel said in an accent more commonly found in across the Atlantic Ocean.

“Oh, you’re American. I’m sorry. Umm . . . elevator.”

“Uh, sure. It’s that way.” They pointed down the hall.

“Thank you very much.”

Pulling Crowley along behind him, he led the way down the hallway indicated by the frightened junior angel where they eventually came to the lift that led to the lobby of both Heaven and Hell’s Head Offices. Crowley took no chances waiting for it to arrive. Instead of pushing the button, he broke off the remaining shackle, wrenched open the doors with pure force and unfurled his wings. Looking at Aziraphale, he picked up the angel in a bridal carry and asked:

“Ready?”

“Yes, my dear.” Aziraphale was grinning like a rescued damsel in distress, his borrowed eyes gone soppy with the sentiment while Crowley tried to ignore the silly look on his own face.

Crowley leapt, using Aziraphale's large white wings as a parachute to slow them down in the shaft, which contained neither an actual lift car or the cables to hold it up. The entire mechanism ran on the belief one would show up when it was wanted. They gracefully fell downward making a soft landing at the bottom, the hellfire flames quenching themselves as they exited the dark shaft and no longer needed them for protection or a source of light. Crowley set Aziraphale back on his feet, the snakeskin boots clicking as they touched down on the polished marble floor of the lobby. He kissed his angel, feeling a bit odd about kissing his own cheek before sauntering towards the door.

“C’mon, angel. Let’s go home.”

~*~*~

As Crowley, now back in the correct body, sat himself down on the couch thankful to not only be free but alive, he heard the crunch of paper from beneath him. Standing up, he looked to find a piece of parchment laying exactly where he sat down. Puzzled he picked it, Aziraphale coming over to inspect it with him. Both angel and demon read the lines written on it in the most beautiful calligraphy either one had ever laid eyes on in their long years on Earth.

Be not afraid. You’re both immune now and you’re welcome.

The two stared at each other for a long while with shocked expressions. Eventually, Crowley blew a long breath out from between his pursed lips.

“Don’t look at me. I’m not about to go find some holy water and test it.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I doubt you’ll have to. I believe we frightened them all off for good this time.”

“Great Plan, my arse,” snorted Crowley. “She just gets some kind of perverse pleasure out of messing about with us. I’m going to bed. Coming, angel?”

“In a minute.”

Aziraphale used his minute to thank Her for not only their immunity but their freedom and their very lives. Only then did he follow Crowley upstairs to spend the night holding him in his arms, rejoicing in the knowledge that he still could.

Little did he know a similar piece of parchment with similar perfect calligraphy showed up on Gabriel’s desk around the same time he was fleeing the area due to one Principality once again surviving being engulfed in hellfire.

The Archangel Michael was correct. There are some who are under My protection, it said. Do not make the mistake of disturbing them again.

Gabriel decided it was in his best interests to ignore a certain bookshop in London and tend to other important business he had. He was, after all, the lead Archangel of the Department of Communications and Information. He had plenty to occupy his time that didn’t involve Aziraphale and his demon. The four involved in the aborted scheme never spoke of it again. Around the same time they all collectively decided to pretend the whole event never happened, all traces of demonsbane, from instructions on how to produce it to the plants Gabriel had bred, disappeared under mysterious circ*mstances from Heaven and Hell.

Chapter 30: Happy Halloween

Chapter Text

Six Months Later

Aziraphale stood at the door of the bookshop with a nearly empty bowl of candy allowing the kids who came knocking tonight to grab a few pieces before moving on to the next shop offering treats. More waited behind them for their chance to get some chocolate. Aziraphale himself wore a vampire costume complete with satin-lined cape and cheap plastic fangs that gave him a bit of a lisp when he complimented the kids on their own costumes. Looking down at the now-empty bowl and the children waiting their turn to grab some sweets, Aziraphale smiled at them.

“Just one moment and I’ll have more for you.” He looked behind him. “Anthony! Can you please bring me another bag of candy?”

“You’re going to give it all away, aren’t you? What if I want to eat some?”

“We’re capable of buying more.”

Crowley appeared at the door wearing his usual ensemble of a black shirt and skinny jeans. His only concession to a Halloween costume was removing the sunglasses and growing some scales across his forehead and along the sides of his face. He thrust the full bag of candy at his partner.

“Here. It really should be ‘trick and treat’. Make the little brats earn it.”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale whispered as he emptied the bag into the bowl. “There you, children. Please don’t be greedy. Save some for the next group.”

“I like your contacts,” said one little boy to Crowley. “Your scales look fake.”

“What do you know?” replied Crowley, flicking out his hybrid tongue — human-like, yet naturally forked and entirely too long to fit properly in a human mouth (and only did in Crowley’s because he wanted it to). “Does that look fake to you, too?”

The kid’s eyes grew large before he ran off after the rest of his group.

“That was nasty,” said Aziraphale as he shut the door. “You could try being polite. They’re children.”

“That’s your job now. I’m no longer the nanny and I don’t have to pretend to like people’s crotch goblins.”

“Where did you pick up such phrases?”

“The internet is a wonderful place, Aziraphale. You can learn all sorts of new stuff there.”

“Go upstairs. There’s only a half-hour left of Halloween and I believe this bag will see me through it,” replied Aziraphale, only partially amused by Crowley’s antics. “You may touch yourself but you are not allowed to climax, understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

The demon disappeared up the spiral staircase. Aziraphale put the refilled bowl on the till and sat down at his desk to read until the next group appeared at the door to beg for candy. After a quiet fifteen-minute wait, he decided to head on upstairs after Crowley, shutting off the downstairs lights before retiring for the rest of the evening. Reaching the flat upstairs, he miracled his Halloween costume into his usual look and sat down in his chair reaching out to stroke Crowley’s hair. The demon was kneeling in his customary place next to Aziraphale’s chair, leaning heavily into the angel’s touch as he petted him.

“Do you need anything?” Aziraphale asked softly.

They had spent a long six months rebuilding what they had before Heaven had imprisoned and visited abuse upon them. Crowley still had trouble with impact play and bondage, as did Aziraphale. Crowley could only handle it if the impact play was gentle. Meanwhile, Aziraphale often times found himself hesitant to hit Crowley even though it was consensual and his hands shook so badly on occasion when he would try to tie knots they would have to leave off until later. They had slowly made progress in some areas — Crowley could now enjoy suspension again as long as it was a full-body tie that cocooned him properly. Tying him with his hands over his head was to invite a panic attack. The one time they tried, Aziraphale was forced to cut him down and had held him close as he cried it out, ignoring the flames that engulfed them both. He had had faith in Her note even though Crowley had warned him off.

“Are you ready?” Aziraphale asked.

He asked this question occasionally, averaging about once a month, waiting for the time when Crowley would answer in the positive. Until then, he made no response when Crowley told him he wasn't, other than to enquire if it was all right to ask again in the future. So far, Crowley always said no but allowed him to repeat the question.

Crowley thought a moment before responding. “I believe I am.”

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a yes.”

Aziraphale broke into a happy smile that Crowley returned while they both leaned towards each other to exchange a passionate kiss before Aziraphale excused himself. He returned a moment later with the large velvet box that had been storing Crowley’s collar all these long months. They both had to heal after Heaven’s abuse of them — Crowley was especially reluctant to resume wearing it after experiencing months of mind control at Gabriel’s hands then taking that brutal beating from Sandalphon while they were in custody. Aziraphale fully understood and patiently waited, asking his question as long as Crowley had allowed him to.

He refastened it around Crowley’s neck then laid a hand on it. “I promise I will never do anything to hurt you, Crowley. This collar does not give me the right to do that.”

“I know,” Crowley said softly in reply. “I love you, angel. I wouldn’t agree to this if I didn’t have the utmost trust in you.”

They fell into the deepest, most passionate kiss they had shared in months. Lovingly they tasted each other, reacquainting on a level they hadn’t felt since they returned to Earth all those months ago to begin the long journey of healing they had had ahead of them. Although they had kissed deeply before since being snatched up by Heaven, there had been no revelations behind it like there was now. The walls that had been put up in response to the trauma they had both experienced started to crumble, leaving them free to pursue their love without limits once again.

“Shall we?” asked Crowley, not needing to add further words to the question.

“If you are willing,” replied Aziraphale.

They had been intimate in the last six months, but it had been rather sporadic and vanilla as they battled their own nightmares. Crowley teetered between needing more touch from Aziraphale than usual and withdrawing completely. Aziraphale had lived in fear that things would never return to the levels they were before as he made attempts to get his partner to open up to him again. Smiling, he held out his hand to the demon, who took it. Hand-in-hand, they walked to the bedroom where Aziraphale shed his clothing while Crowley surprisingly rummaged around in the old steamer trunk that sat collecting dust for the last six months.

“Are you sure?” asked Aziraphale as Crowley handed him the black leather cuffs he had dug out. “I won’t rush you. We can wait until you are completely ready.”

“I am ready, angel.”

Aziraphale opted for simple, carefully tying Crowley spread eagle to the bed because he felt that the position would be less threatening to Crowley and easy to get him out of if he was to change his mind or panic. Asked again and again if he was all right, the demon finally laughed and told him he would safeword if his emotions began to head south. He was perfectly relaxed as he lay bound on their bed, one worried angel making over him in unnecessary ways, touching his love mark for the calming effect it had.

They made love slowly, Aziraphale still paying close attention to Crowley’s reactions from foreplay to climax. He kissed his submissive from leather cuff down to more erogenous zones, making sure that every action he performed was positive, every kiss, nibble or caress lovingly placed. Nothing was going to ruin this moment as long as he could help it. Crowley deserved this after what he had been through, and Aziraphale kept it foremost in his mind that his demon had been through more at the hands of Gabriel and the other Archangels than he had, from mental to physical cruelty. It would never happen again. The angel decided he would do everything in his power to protect Crowley for the rest of eternity as Crowley had protected him for the last six thousand years.

They climaxed together after a gentle session and it was beautiful. Aziraphale lay beside a still-bound Crowley, whispering sweet nothings in his ear as he smoothed down red hair damp with sweat. Crowley had begged to left tied for the night and Aziraphale, although feeling cautious, agreed to give it a try. He would sleep lightly and be ready to miracle away those ropes should Crowley give the slightest indication that the experience was turning negative. But they made it through the night with Crowley awaking the next morning as calm as he had been when Aziraphale pulled the first length of rope through the rings on the cuffs. What they had built up was not broken; they had not been defeated despite setbacks. As he helped Crowley sit up so that they could embrace, the rope now loose around them on the bed, Aziraphale felt they were finally on the path back to normalcy. And he was correct. Their triumph over Heaven was complete by the end of the year. They had gained back everything they had lost, developing a stronger bond than they had shared before the entire ordeal.

Chapter 31: Author's Note

Chapter Text

Well, there we go . . . I made it through 30 prompts in month, even though I took some of them out of order to make them work with my plot. I never intended this to be a fic I finished in a month nor one that I wrote around prompts, but I had the first chapter done and decided to run with it. And I know . . . the plot ended up being a variation on one of my usual themes, this time how Heaven is awful and how either one side or the other will not be satisfied with the outcome of the trials. I do like my whump as much as I like my kink.

I wrote an average of twenty-five hundred words a day for this project (sometimes I was writing upwards of five to six thousand to keep up on other projects) and while that was easy at first, even with planning and a rather elaborate outline, it became more and more difficult to make myself sit down and finish chapters as time wore on. The last week was hell. I could not concentrate on this fic for anything and I feel my writing suffered somewhat, so I apologize for that. It now comes down to this - will I ever do a month's worth of prompts again? Maybe, but I think they'll have to be ones that come out way in advance so I can write at a more leisurely pace. Kinktober did, but I had never done this before, so lesson learned.

I do realize that I could have written 31 separate one-shots, but I got involved in a Kisses Bingo and Angst Bingo game, which means I was already writing one to two one-shots a week. And that's on top of the Guess the Author Games I've been participating in every so often. Plus I'm more of a fan of multi-chapter works than one-shots.

I am now taking a few days off from writing, so if you are following my fic Anthony In Love, it will probably be delayed by a week or so. No more than two, I promise. I'll also be writing a story for the OTP Prompt event and I have a multi-chapter Ineffable Wives story I'm working on. I'm ready to start chapter three of that once I'm done with my little break.

Until then, I hope you enjoyed this. Keep supporting us fanfic writers. It's wonderful to receive kudos and comments from readers and that really makes writers' days. Happy reading!

-Bentley