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There were candles everywhere. Tea lights and pillars decorated every surface in the room, the flames casting an orange tinge onto the pale skin of the demon lying stretched out before the angel. Each flicker sent light beams licking across the planes of his chest, dipping into each line of taut muscle in his abdomen and tendons of his long legs, highlighting each freckle splattered across the bridge of his nose, cheekbones, and shoulders. How fitting that the light of the sun had borne them and the light of the flame brought them to life.
This was the part Aziraphale had learned to savor the most in all of their encounters: the tantalizing build of anticipation. It was the time, in his opinion, that made this part so precious to him. The fact that they had it now. The fact that they were solid in their relationship, in the us of it all, that they no longer had to claw at each other’s clothes in their hurried encounters, were no longer so desperate to get to the other’s skin for fear that they would blink and their partner would be gone. Now, there was no more Second Coming threatening to lock Crowley in a pit for eternity, no fear of the Almighty’s retribution ripping away Aziraphale’s grace for daring to love a demon. They were free. Together. They had time. And Aziraphale enjoyed taking it.
He relished the thrum of his quickening pulse as he had set their scene, hand-placing each candle to ensure the proper ambiance, and the rush of power alighting his corporation’s nerves as he miracled the flames to ignite. He might enjoy setting the scene, but honestly, who had the time to individually light over seventy-five candle wicks? He wanted to actually get to the carnal part of the evening, afterall.
His own belly had tightened with restrained desire as Crowley had quirked an eyebrow at him then silently spread his arms against the board, wordlessly handing all control to Aziraphale in a display of trust that would have flabbergasted the angel he had been four years ago. He’d taken the time to finger the slick of the silk rope as he’d wrapped it around Crowley’s wrists, then delighted in the huff that escaped the demon's lips when he'd pulled the ropes tighter and secured him to the wood underneath.
None of this would have been possible without time. And he thrilled in the knowledge that he had it. Could use it to string the demon along a slow build to a beautiful crescendo.
Now, as Crowley lay stretched before him, arms pinned to the wooden board he'd rested on the table and his long legs spread on either side of Aziraphale's waist, his naked arse cradled in the angel’s still-clothed lap, he luxuriated in the moment. The delicious curl of anticipation swirling in the air. He took a deep breath, then began.
He skimmed the tips of his fingers lightly down the column of the demon's neck, stopping quickly to press against a purplish smear his lips had left behind yesterday. He traced over delicate collarbones, then over rounded shoulders and across the sensitive underside of Crowley's arms. The twitch of ticklish tension rolled through Crowley’s body and straight into Aziraphale's lap.
Crowley's golden eyes narrowed at the angel.
“Sorry, my dear. No tickling. I promise.”
“‘M not ticklish,” he grumbled, eyes skittering to the left.
“No, no. Of course not,” Aziraphale placated, an impossibly fond smile settling on his face.
“Hmmmpppffff.” Crowley let his eyes fall shut once more, giving over to his other senses.
Aziraphale paused there, letting the anticipation build once more between them. He pulled his hands back to unbutton his cuffs and roll his sleeves up to his elbows. He unknotted his bowtie and slid it out from around his collar.
Even with his eyes closed, the familiar rustle of fabric gave away Aziraphale’s movements to Crowley, and after the years they'd been doing this, he was intimately familiar with the picture of bared forearms and loosened collar that would greet him should he look at his angel now. That mental image alone caused gooseflesh to erupt across his arms and legs in response.
And then Aziraphale's hands were back, his palms skimming down Crowley's sides, fingers bumping over the rises and dips of each rib. They crested over the juts of each hipbone and traced lovingly down the valley of his Apollo’s belt.
Each muscle twitched under his touch, and Aziraphale smiled at Crowley's responsive body as he stopped his fingers just shy of where Crowley's cock was beginning to harden, reversing their path back up the lithe body once more. He repeated this path once, twice, and a third time more, delighting in the way Crowley sighed and relaxed into his touch even as his cock hardened fully from Aziraphale’s ministrations. He was so incredibly beautiful, and Aziraphale felt confident he would never tire of having the demon’s corporation bared and free for his own exploration.
He bent forward in his chair, trapping Crowley’s cock between his naked belly and Aziraphale’s clothed one, and placed a sweet peck above the demon’s heart. He intentionally breathed in, allowing the air to fill his abdomen and press further into his hard length, drawing a breathy moan from the demon.
“Oh, look at you. So beautiful. So good for me,” Aziraphale praised, feeling the hard length twitch against his stomach.
He closed his lips around a rosy nipple, sucking and nipping at it until it pebbled from the attention. His fingers teased the other to its own peak, giving it an extra pinch to draw out a startled buck of the demon’s hips where they settled into his lap, the shapely glutes tensing deliciously against his own growing effort.
Aziraphale hushed Crowley’s groan and pulled himself back to an upright position, patting the redhead’s toned stomach affectionately. “So responsive to my touch. You’re a wonder, Crowley.”
He watched as Crowley’s nose scrunched and his eyes squeezed together in a show of disbelief. After all this time, he still struggled hearing Aziraphale offer him any kind of praise, although his body sung a different story altogether - he craved the praise even though he thought himself unworthy. It only made Aziraphale desperate to offer more.
“Absolutely stunning.”
Aziraphale allowed his fingers to drift slowly down, swirling gently into Crowley’s bellybutton for a moment, then toying with the copper trail of hair underneath, following it lower. Lower. With a featherlight touch, he skimmed the tip of his finger along the prominent vein that ran along the underside of Crowley’s length, then took him in hand and firmly stroked him over and over again until Crowley’s arse was writhing in the angel’s lap.
“Ahh! Ang-- Oh Go-- Sat-- Ngghhhh.” Crowley strained against his bindings as he closed in on his peak, biceps straining as he struggled against the rope biting into his wrists. His thighs shook and then tensed, and just as he was about to fall over the edge, Aziraphale removed his hand, leaving the demon whimpering.
“Oh, darling,” Aziraphale said, offering a soothing pat to the thighs gripping his waist to offset his slightly condescending tone. “You didn’t really think it was going to be over already, did you?”
Crowley locked eyes with him, golden irises with pupils blown wide and eyebrow quirking in a combination of amusement and annoyance. “I can hope, can’t I?”
“By all means. Hope away.” He flicked his hands in a gesture of invitation. “But, I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”
A crystalline blue gaze tracked each movement of the demon’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed hard, drank in the tensing muscles of his cheeks as he struggled to put a flippant facade on his face.
“Sure, angel. I’m right here. Whatcha waitin’ for?” Affected casualness suffused his tone. Aziraphale planned to wipe it from his lips.
Instead of responding, the angel offered a slightly feral grin as he reached for one of the lit candles nearby.
As their play had graduated from simply rending their clothes and having each other anywhere and everywhere, they had started exploring this new, utterly human aspect of their relationship more fully. There had been different positions, different locations, different efforts, and even different props. They’d explored paints and ropes and sex toys and foods. There was one spectacular time involving some tiramisu that Aziraphale was eager to repeat. And through it all, they’d come to realize a number of things about themselves and each other. Namely, that Aziraphale’s tendency to be a bit of a bastard extended perfectly well into the bedroom, and that Crowley liked it. Throughout their history, the demon had always been eager to please and that translated into their intimate moments -- Crowley was most content when Aziraphale was clear about what he wanted, the instructions settling some of his deep-seated doubts from the previous 6000 years, and once he knew Aziraphale’s desires, nothing pleased him more than meeting them. Enthusiastically.
Aziraphale used his free hand to stroke gently over Crowley’s chest, thumbing again at a dusty pink nipple, before tipping the candle and allowing a small stream of melted wax to fall across the demon’s taut stomach. The smooth skin pressed up into Aziraphale’s palm as Crowley sucked in a breath at the burning sensation, and he pressed back lightly, holding him in place. Humans really were so clever, having invented candles that melted at lower temperatures so the wax could be safely used on skin without risk of actual burns. He’d purchased a number of them from the intimate shop a few doors down the street after having a rather eye-opening conversation with the proprietor about the possibilities of sensation play, and after witnessing the delectable display of Crowley’s body tensing in his lap, he knew he’d be returning for more helpful insights.
“Was that okay, Crowley? Not too much?” He questioned, soothing the area with a few delicate pats on the hardening wax. With the bead of liquid he could see forming on the tip of Crowley’s cock as it twitched between them, he was relatively certain of the answer, but having Crowley use his words -- well, it did something to Aziraphale.
He received an answering huff instead.
Aziraphale’s eyes rolled to the ceiling at the demon’s antics; they both knew he wouldn’t allow him to get away with that. “Not good enough, I’m afraid. I need an actual answer from you. Was that okay?”
Crowley had squeezed his eyes shut at the first drips of wax, but they opened at Aziraphale’s stern voice, flicking quickly over the angel’s face to read his expression. Whatever he saw there must have convinced him that Aziraphale would stop the scene without his compliance.“Yes, angel. Yes,” came tripping out of his lips as fast as he could open them, the golden eyes widening with a silent plea to continue.
“There, there,” the angel placated with a slightly condescending tone, a smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth at being proved right. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He punctuated his final question by wrapping his free hand back around Crowley’s tumescent cock, the touch eliciting a hiss from the demon as the angel tightened his grip slightly. “Or maybe it was.”
“Basssstard.”
“You like it,” Aziraphale retorted. He leaned forward once more, delivering a quick nip of his teeth to the ribcage on display in punishment for the offense. Sitting back up, he angled the taper above Crowley once more, this time trailing drops of molten wax in a broken line from his navel to his sternum. With each drip, Crowley’s entire corporation twitched and the demon’s eyes clenched shut once more. Aziraphale could see him struggling to get his body under control, to not react to the sporadic bursts of heat against his skin, even as his length pulsed with need in the angel’s grasp.
Even after the years spent together now, this was still a common theme in their relationship. He strongly suspected Crowley’s inability to fully let go during these intense scenes was linked directly to the more unpleasant experiences he’d endured in Hell, where he’d needed to hide his reactions, his emotions, and his pain in order to survive. Aziraphale relished the chance to replace those memories with loving ones until one day, those instincts faded.
“Beautiful, Crowley.” He allowed a few more beads of wax to fall against the pale chest as he lazily stroked the hard length between them. “You’re doing absolutely beautifully.”
He placed the taper back in its candlestick and looked down at the mouth-watering sight before him. Crowley’s ivory skin glistened in the flickering light, a thin sheen of sweat drawn from the combination of the burning wax and unrelenting anticipation covered his body in an infernal glow. The white wax had been a deliberate choice on Aziraphale’s part, based on a hunch. A hunch that was now proven correct: the splayed path of hardened wax mirrored the way his spend claimed the demon’s body.
Lust coursed through Aziraphale at the sight of Crowley in such a state. His own shaft pressed uncomfortably against his trousers and he was desperate for some relief. He ran his fist down Crowley’s length a few more times before pulling it away; Crowley letting out a grunt of indignation at the loss of contact. He brought his hand to the thigh around his hips and squeezed it with affection before cupping his hand underneath it to bear its weight, and gently spreading the demon’s legs further apart before lowering it to the floor. With one side freed, Aziraphale had room to unbutton his trousers and coaxed them down to his knees, his own effort springing from its confines to land solidly against Crowley’s erection. The velvety sensation of their cocks together did nothing to quell Aziraphale’s raging need.
He wrapped his hand around both of their cocks, their combined thickness overwhelming his grip as he worked them into a hurried rhythm. His other hand skated over Crowley’s hip before sneaking underneath to grab a handful of arse, both supporting some of the demon’s weight and enjoying the feel of the pert backside in his palm.
“How does this feel, my love? Could you come from this?”
Crowley’s leg tightened around Aziraphale’s hip and a string of garbled consonants tumbled from his mouth in response. At least he tried , Aziraphale thought fondly. He picked up the pace a bit, and tightened his hand around them both, skating his fingers up and over the head of Crowley’s cock with each upward pass. In no time at all, Crowley was writhing in his lap, breath panting out of his chest.
“Plszrrffllll!” The jumbled words escaped Crowley, vowelless as always when he was this close to his climax. Every muscle in his body tightened and his head fell back with an audible thunk against the wooden board.
Aziraphale released them both, wincing in sympathy as Crowley’s muscles protested the abrupt lack of sensation and the demon let out a ruined groan. The angel smoothed his open hand along Crowley’s side, running it up and down, up and down, soothingly, until the trembling in his body subsided and the honey-colored eyes popped open wide.
The scathing glare directed at him would have set lesser angels quaking with fear. Luckily, Aziraphale had been on the receiving end of this glare many times over the previous centuries, and was suitably desensitized to it at this point.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Angel?” Crowley growled.
“Oh!” Aziraphale feigned surprise. “So you could have come from that.”
“You bloody well know I was about to come, Aziraphale,” he groused.
“Well, how was I to know?” The angel smiled facetiously. He sniffed haughtily, nose in the air. “I asked you and you didn’t respond.”
Crowley opened his mouth to issue what was bound to be another caustic remark, but Aziraphale cut him off with a quick, “Hush. You’ll like this next part.”
The beautiful gold irises practically disappeared behind the demon’s eyelids, such was the magnitude of the squint he levelled at the angel. “I’d better.”
Aziraphale offered a blinding smile in return and reached for Crowley’s leg, wrapping it back around his waist so the demon wouldn’t have the strain of supporting his weight any longer. Then, he reached for the little bottle of lubricant he’d stashed on one of the unused shelves on the short bookcases supporting Crowley’s upper half, popping open the lid and pouring some of the slick liquid onto his fingers. He spared a quick miracle to warm it up to body temperature before reaching between Crowley’s legs, searching out the tight rim of muscle there. He circled his fingers around the ring, liberally spreading the lubricant around and then applying pressure until his finger slid deep inside.
Crowley moaned at the sensation. Although they could achieve the same results with a miracle, and had many times before, Crowley preferred to do this the human way. He’d explained to Aziraphale that the drag of the angel’s fingers inside of him felt more intimate, and left him feeling more cared for, than almost any other act they’d adopted as part of their sex life. And with an endorsement like that, Aziraphale never skipped it. He pulled his finger from Crowley long enough to add some additional lubricant, and returned with two fingers this time. He fucked Crowley on his fingers until he was panting once more, using his renewed leverage with both legs around Aziraphale to lift his hips and push himself into the fingers, taking them as deeply as he could.
Not wanting Crowley to get too close to the precipice again, Aziraphale slowed his movements, one hand pressing into Crowley’s hips to prevent him from continuing. He removed his fingers from Crowley’s body even as the complaints started up once more. He grabbed the lubricant for the final time, slicking up his own length. He luxuriated there for a few moments, touching himself, basking in Crowley’s pleasure and the view of his gorgeous body that was Aziraphale’s for the taking. Only his. Forever.
He positioned himself at Crowley’s entrance, then pressed his hips forward until the ring of muscle gave way and the head of his cock slipped inside. Entering Crowley always left him a bit breathless. After keeping themselves apart for so long, and the particularly divisive business with the last thwarted apocalypse, joining with Crowley like this, feeling himself inside the demon’s body, always felt like cool water on his tongue after thirsting for eons in the desert. As he seated himself fully inside, Aziraphale was certain the feeling would never lessen; he didn’t want it to.
Allowing his fingers to whisper across the strong tendons in Crowley’s thighs, following their path to the knees and down his calves where they dangled just beyond the back of his chair, the angel focused on his own breathing, not wanting to reach his peak too soon. His goal was to ruin Crowley, for the next day at the very least, and he couldn’t do that if he exhausted himself right now. He sucked in a steadying breath, holding it for a count, and letting it out slowly. He repeated this until –
“ Move , Aziraphale,” Crowley begged, his stomach shining with his own precome where the tip of his cock leaked against the wax.
Aziraphale settled his palms on the demon’s hips, fingers curling around the lean frame in a tight grip. He lifted Crowley slightly and they both gasped as Aziraphale’s length slid deeper.
“Oh, Crowley. Yes - arch your back for me,” he coaxed, moving one hand into the small of the demon’s back and pushing up, angling his body exactly as he wanted it. Crowley cried out as the shifting caused Aziraphale to nudge against the bundle of nerves inside him.
“Yes! That’s it, darling. Right there.” The angel kept pressure on his hand to keep Crowley arched against him as he reached for a pillar candle, plucking it from its ceramic dish with his other hand. He quickly looked inside, confirming a pool of melted wax in its center, then upended the candle over Crowley’s sternum. His body jumped at the initial heat, forcing his body away from the cock buried within, and as the wax spread over his chest, the warmth diffusing across his skin, he settled back down onto the length with a groan.
Aziraphale discarded that candle and reached for another. He trickled the wax, slowly this time, over the demon’s collarbones. Each drop of the molten liquid set Crowley’s body off, the squirming and twitching resulting in him fucking himself erratically on the angel’s cock. The next candle covered the ridges of his ribcage, the following filling his bellybutton. Aziraphale continued through another three candles, marvelling at the feel of Crowley clenching around him, his muscles spasming in time with the dripping wax.
He kept his eyes on Crowley’s face. Even though his eyes had fallen shut again, all of his emotions played across his face like a symphony, and Aziraphale was enraptured. Almost imperceptible winces at the contact of the wax were followed by lips opening on a moan, a slackened jaw, a bitten lip, tension creeping back in as he awaited the next stream. All of it was gorgeous.
His eyes skated back over Crowley’s body, now covered in milky rivulets, clinging to the ridges and planes of the lithe demon, and his control snapped at the sight. He tossed the spent candle to the side and grasped at Crowley’s hips as he stood. A well-aimed kick sent his chair skittering across the floor, and Aziraphale stepped closer into the space between Crowley’s legs. Knees bent, he settled the demon into the crook of his lap, cock never slipping from his warmth. The leverage of standing allowed him to pound into Crowley, the force of it causing the wooden board under the demon’s arms to squeak against the bookshelves in time with his thrusts.
He fucked into him with wild abandon, desperation taking over and filth pouring from his mouth. He spoke poetry on the demon’s eyes, compared the light freckles dotting his shoulders to the constellations he’d set in the skies. He likened the beauty of the valleys of his collarbones and iliac furrows to the hills in Eden. He rhapsodized on the splay of the demon’s hips, the daydreams of claiming every inch of his body with his lips and his come. And when words began to fail him, he just repeated, “Love you, love you, love you,” until he felt Crowley’s entire body tense in his arms. He leaned over him then, trapping the demon’s cock between them once more, as he used his grip to pull the demon into him again and again until the tension broke and Crowley’s inner walls contracted around him. He felt each throb of Crowley’s cock as it emptied between them, and it was enough to cause his own hips to stutter and his legs to give out as he was swept away into his own wave of bliss.
When he came back to himself, he was on his knees with Crowley’s arse cradled in his lap, still connected even as his cock softened. Crowley’s eyes were open now, staring at the angel with a mixture of disbelief and awe.
“
Fuck
, angel,” he croaked. “I don’t think I’ve come that hard in my life.”
“I believe I would have been there if you had,” Aziraphale chuckled as he gently pulled himself from Crowley, feeling a trickle of his spend wend its way down his thigh. He pulled a miracle down from the Heavens and snapped his fingers, simultaneously freeing Crowley’s arms from their bindings and clearing the wax and spend from their bodies, then he gathered the demon into his arms, peppering kisses across his cheeks. “You were positively magnificent, Crowley.”
His lips felt the blood rush into the demon’s cheeks as he flushed at the compliment, the gentle warmth of Crowley’s blush mirrored in the affection that swept through the angel’s body.
Instead of spouting off some self-deprecating remark to lessen the effect of the compliment, Crowley surprised Aziraphale by returning one of his own. “You were pretty fantastic yourself, angel.”
Aziraphale gave a pleased little wiggle and leaned forward to plant a sweet kiss on the tip of Crowley’s nose, which promptly crinkled under his attention. Crowley wrapped his arms around the angel’s back and laughed as he tightened a fist around the material of Aziraphale’s shirt. “Aziraphale! You didn’t even get undressed!,” He exclaimed in a show of mock outrage. “Thank somebody we have miracles to clean ourselves up afterward - your clothes would’ve been completely ruined!”
“Yes, well. A worthy cause to sacrifice for, although I’m glad it needn’t come to that,” Aziraphale spoke primly, then a grin split his face. “Lord, could you imagine being human and having to clean up after this type of thing?”
“Ugh - please don’t make me imagine being human. I need at least 6000 more years with you, angel.”
The angel hugged him closer, one hand tangling in the crimson strands, and the other toying with one of the dimples at the base of his spine. “Luckily we have all the time in the world,” he whispered, nuzzling into Crowley’s neck. “Literally, I suppose. Since there will be no more apocalypses headed our way.”
Crowley’s arms tightened around Aziraphale’s back for a moment, then he gently prised himself away to meet Aziraphale’s eyes. “Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Crowley moved first, his lips gentle and sweet against Aziraphale’s. They kissed for a few moments before parting, with Crowley sneaking one last nip on the angel’s bottom lip. Another snapped miracle and Aziraphale had Crowley wrapped in a warm blanket in his arms, his own clothes were righted, and he was striding toward the stairs, already picturing cuddling his demon close on the couch and popping an episode of Bake Off on the television. After that, maybe they could revisit the tiramisu.