Work Text:
It wasn't common knowledge, but Charles Dickens had once met Crowley around the celebration of Jesus’s birth, and had subsequently based a character in one of his stories on him -- One Ebeneezer Scrooge, in point of fact.
The iconic Bah, Humbug ? Direct quote from Crowley when Dickens had asked him around to his family's Christmas feast.
Aziraphale was the opposite. He loved this time of year, no matter the historical inaccuracies surrounding the time of the actual baby Jesus’s birth. Everything was just so pretty and cheerful. There were seasonal tasting menus and mulled wines aplenty. It was downright joyful.
Except for the sulky demon. True to character, Crowley was in rare form this December 24th.
And Aziraphale was over it.
They'd gone to St. James's square for a walk this evening, and Aziraphale had oohed and ahhed over the Christmas Tree lights as they cast an array of multicolored dots lights in the reflection of the pond. The air was nippy, so he'd nudged his body closer into Crowley’s side than usual, wrapping an arm around a slender waist, hoping to lend some of his own heat to the serpent. He was happy .
Until he felt a rush of demonic power and the carolers all lost their voices and the twinkling lights in the trees blinked out.
“What was that for?” Aziraphale pulled back from Crowley, offering a disapproving frown, but Crowley just grumbled incoherently in response. He'd been doing these little acts of warfare against Christmas since the beginning of December, and ruining their nice walk was Aziraphale's final straw.
“That's it.” Looking around to make sure no one was watching, Aziraphale snapped his fingers and they found themselves transported to the room above the bookshop. It was tastefully decorated for Christmas, just like the rest of the shop. Some strings of twinkle lights, some gnomes sporting tartan scarves on an end table.
And now, one completely naked demon.
“W-- Wots-- Aziraphale? What the Heaven?” Crowley sputtered, throwing his hands in the air in indignation.
“You are being ridiculous and I have had enough, Crowley.” Aziraphale crossed to the wall and unplugged the strands of Christmas lights from the outlet, tidying them into a loose circle in his hand. Wisely, Crowley kept his lips pressed shut, recognizing the building ire that was about to burst forth from the angel. He might have been naked, but at least he wasn't naked and stupid.
“You are going to tell me exactly what it is you have against Christmas by the end of the night. And it had better be good. You ruined our date,” the angel whined.
Crowley lowered his head, hoping to hide the heat suffusing his cheeks. He had his reasons for hating the holiday, but he wasn't about to tell them to Aziraphale of all people. However, he did sincerely regret cutting date night short. He always enjoyed the time they spent together, holding hands or touching in other insignificant ways that they’d held themselves back from over the years. They were important to him, and he hated that this one ended on a sour note. Although, being naked did tend to suggest that date night was alive and well, and, if the authoritarian tone creeping into Aziraphale's voice could be believed, it was about to get even better.
“On your knees and wings out, if you please.”
Crowley dropped immediately to the carpet, scratchy fibers digging into his knees. He concentrated a moment and his wings unfurled from their pocket dimension.
“Good,” the angel praised. Then his voice softened for a moment, “If this gets too much, you can always stop me. One word and I’ll drop it and won’t ask again.” He pulled the sunglasses down the bridge of Crowley’s nose, gently placing them on the nearby nightstand and searched Crowley’s eyes to make sure he understood.
Crowley offered a genuine smile in return before a saucy smirk twitched one side of his lips upward. “You have a lot of confidence in yourself, angel.”
Aziraphale rolled his eyes at that before disappearing behind a fluffy wing. He smoothed his fingertips down some of the silky covert feathers, drawing a shudder from the demon at his feet. “Your wings are stunning, darling. But, let's see if we can really make them sparkle tonight, hmm?”
With that, Aziraphale wrapped one end of the string lights around the scapula where Crowley's wing met smooth skin and began twining it around and between feathers.
“Arm, please,” he requested, and Crowley lifted his arm into the angel's waiting grasp. He stretched his arm outward and began looping the light strand around both arm and wing, binding them together. As he worked, he slipped his fingers between the feathers, stroking sensitive shafts and skin.
Each touch, each tug of the lights wrung breathy moans and garbled consonants from Crowley's throat. By the time Aziraphale finished wrapping the other wing and arm, Crowley was hard and desperate. Aziraphale wasn't always dominant in bed, usually preferring to be laid back into pillows and thoroughly attended to, but the nights when he grabbed the reins (sometimes literally) always resulted in magnificent orgasms for them both.
Aziraphale stood in front of Crowley, admiring his work. Goodness Crowley was beautiful like this, cheeks burning the same crimson as his dripping length, creamy skin glowing brightly against the ink of his feathers. He made a mental note to tie him up again sometime when he wasn’t as frustrated.
“Ah, and now for the final touch, I think.” Aziraphale walked Crowley’s wingspan, picking up the end of the strand of lights and plugging it into the outlet. Bright pinpricks of red, green, yellow, and blue scattered across the dark feathers, a vibrant starry sky right there in his bookshop.
“Good Lord, but you’re beautiful all trussed up in Christmas lights, my dear.”
Crowley groaned, but in annoyance instead of rapture.
Aziraphale rolled his eyes and knelt in front of Crowley, mouthing kisses down the column of his neck. “Feel like explaining yet?” he asked, hand reaching down to cup him gently.
“Ngk.”
“Hmmm. I guess you’ll require a bit more effort then.” He began stroking lightly. Returning his lips to skin, he nipped at the spot just underneath the demon’s collarbone he knew to be especially sensitive. Crowley melted into his arms.
Aziraphale had to let go in order to catch him, and Crowley whimpered at the lost contact. Aziraphale leaned in to make sure Crowley wouldn’t fall and gently guided his head down to balance against the angel’s shoulder.
“I’ve got you.”
He slid his knee between Crowley’s legs, nudging them further apart, and took him back in hand. He took his time, twisting up and over the head, teasing the sensitive underside, until Crowley’s thighs tightened and he shuddered. Then Aziraphale slid his hand off leaving Crowley just shy of his peak.
“An-angel -- wh--” Crowley stuttered indignantly.
“Ready to tell me? Or should I describe in detail how much I enjoy seeing your body wrapped in Christmas decorations? Maybe I can go get some baubles and hang them from the lights?”
Crowley growled, but offered no other response.
“Fine then.”
Aziraphale miracled his fingers slick and reached around Crowley to toy with his rim, retaking his length in his other hand. And he brought Crowley to the edge over and over again until he thought he really would have to miracle some baubles and tinsel before Crowley would either come clean or call it off.
It turned out, that wouldn’t be necessary.
“ Please , angel. Please let me come,” Crowley found his voice enough to beg. “I’ll give you the best blowjob of your life if you just -- please. Please .”
“You know what I want.” He punctuated the end of the sentence with a stroke against Crowley’s prostate that had the demon quaking against him as he choked out a sob.
“‘Zira-ffffffff.”
“You can come when you tell me what I want to know.” He stilled his fingers inside Crowley and released his cock with a final slide. Crowley let out a high-pitched whine that would've had him forfeit his demon card had he still been associated with Hell.
“You pay Christmas decorations more attention than me and I hate it,” came tumbling from Crowley’s mouth. “Now let me come, ‘Ziraphale. Fuck.”
Aziraphale was stunned. “Oh, Crowley.” He pulled his fingers from Crowley to wrap him tight in his arms. “All these years you've been so grumpy because I think Christmas decorations are pretty?”
“Eerraafffflll.” Crowley’s voice was muffled where his face had been unceremoniously squished into the angel’s neck in a strong embrace. “Lllmmmmcccmmm.”
Abruptly realizing Crowley wasn't just verbalizing the string of unintelligible gibberish typical of their liaisons, Aziraphale loosened his hold just enough to let Crowley move his face and speak.
“S’op all,” he gestured as well as he could with his eyebrows, “ that , and fuck me. NOW.”
Aziraphale hesitated. He felt like they should probably talk about that revelation, but on the other hand, he’d kept the darling fellow on edge for well over forty-five minutes. His own cock was tenting his trousers and making it rather difficult to have a conversation anyway. But he could show him without words how absurd he was.
“Back on your knees for a moment, dearest.”
Crowley’s shoulders sagged in disbelief and he swayed a little as Aziraphale rose to his feet in front of him. Aziraphale grasped his shoulders and settled him back on his knees, not moving away until he was certain Crowley was balanced. His hand never left Crowley as he walked around the wing. He skimmed his fingers along the tender underside of Crowley’s arm, teased at spots where the reflection of light shimmered against feathers, until he came to rest directly behind him.
Aziraphale quickly undid his trousers and pulled his cock out. A quick miracle made sure he was ready, and then he gripped Crowley’s shoulder. “Bend forward. I’ve got you.”
He supported him with his grasp as Crowley leaned away, and used his other hand to line himself up. He eased into him until he felt the muscle relax, and he slid in easily.
“Oh, that’s so good, Crowley. You feel wonderful.” He felt Crowley clench around him and he smiled, nipping his slender neck. Aziraphale massaged his hands into Crowley’s shoulders, kneading lower and lower until he could curl his hands into downy feathers. He gripped each wing and thrusted experimentally into Crowley.
“‘Ziraphale, fuck !” Crowley shouted.
Yes, it seemed that extra leverage would do nicely. He did a few more shallow thrusts, building Crowley back up to the desperation from earlier. Once he had him whimpering and incoherent, he used his grasp to force a deep arch into Crowley’s back and began shoving his hips forcefully into Crowley. Then he heaped on a pile of praise.
“You feel so amazing, my dear,” and “You’re so beautiful,” and “I could watch you all day, love,” poured from Aziraphale’s mouth as he pulled Crowley back into him, leveraging his wings to bottom himself out in the demon’s body over and over. The stream of compliments kept up, laced with increasing filth about the curve of his arse, the arch of his back, the warmth of his body, and the things he wanted to do to it.
Crowley’s thighs shook and his head lulled to one side as he neared his climax. Aziraphale knew he was close to reaching his own peak, but he wanted to feel Crowley come apart around him.
“I love you and treasure you more than any decoration in the world, Crowley. ”
He could feel Crowley start to tip over the edge and he let himself go, pounding ruthlessly into Crowley, his fingers with a white-knuckled clasp on Crowley's wings.
“Come, Crowley. That's the most gorgeous sight in the world. Come for me!” At that, Crowley keened and his body clenched tight around Aziraphale's cock, his rim pulsing where the angel was buried deep inside him as he came in long spurts across the floor.
Aziraphale’s hips stuttered at the sight of Crowley falling apart around him and he shattered. His vision exploded into a rainbow of lights, mimicking the mosaic of Crowley’s wings, as he emptied himself inside him. He broke his grip on the wings to wrap his arms around his demon, hands running all over him in soothing strokes.
“You did so well, my dearest. So well,” he snapped his fingers and Crowley was instantly freed, the string lights unwound and back in their place, wrapped around the headboard.
Another miracle and the mess was gone from both of them, then Aziraphale hefted Crowley into his arms, laying him gently on the bed before crawling in after him and cuddling into his chest. He gently took Crowley’s chin between his fingers, urging those amber eyes to meet his and offered an affectionately teasing smile.
“Still think I don't pay enough attention to you?”
Crowley narrowed his eyes and gave a little harrumph. In response, Aziraphale planted his smiling lips on Crowley's cheek.
“In that case, let's go downstairs and watch The Muppet Christmas Carol. It's my favorite depiction of you.”
Crowley’s eyes widened in shock. “Excuse me?!”
“What? You never read a Christmas Carol? Never watched any of the movies?”
Crowley pointed his thumb at his chest, “Hate Christmas, me. Why would I have watched any of those movies?”
Aziraphale's smile shone brighter than any Christmas decoration they'd seen over the years. “Oh, this is going to be so much fun, my dear.” He stood, wiggling in excitement, and pulled Crowley up, dragging him toward the stairs.
Crowley sighed, still too boneless from the mind-numbing orgasm to put up even a half-hearted fight.
All he could grumble out made Aziraphale ring out in laughter.
“Bah Humbug.”