Archive of Our Own

This was just fucking stupid.

Of all the times in his nine lives he’d put his paw in it, this had to take the catnip.

“You need to pull your weight more, Crowley.”

Yeah, well, he didn’t have much weight to pull.

“You'll get exiled from the colony if you don't contribute more, Crowley.”

Him and the rest of the half-cats were already abandoned strays; what difference would it make if the colony abandoned him too?!

…A lot of difference. There was safety in numbers. Protection. Cuddles--not that the other Toms were into cuddling a feisty Omega all that much.

So Crowley was pressured to provide, stealing food and supplies, and money to exchange for food and supplies. He often slunk around the neighbourhood, easily scaling the wall to Eden gated community, and stocked up from people in big houses, with too many rooms and more stuff than they knew what to do with. He’d take things that were easily replaced: mobile phones, after backing up the gallery to the cloud, and removing the sim and SD cards first--those were of no use to him, he’d tell himself--games consoles, as everything was backed up online these days anyway, and the games that came with them would fetch a pretty penny. Televisions were a bit too big and bulky to carry by himself, but if there was nothing else to take, then they were worth a punt, and he could be quick about it. Then of course there was whatever cash was laying around, and he’d raid fridges, larders and pantries for whatever food he could carry.

Overall, Crowley would say he was very good at pilfering from others. He needed to provide for his colony, after all. In his sound opinion, however, Lucifer kept too large a cut from everything brought back to the nest, but no one would hear Crowley say a word about it.

“He's the Tom cat,” they'd say, hair standing on end. “Our Alpha. He protects us.”

Yeah, and he also took what he wanted, when he wanted it, and then sent you on your way without so much as a “cheers.” Crowley could only snigger deprecatingly, and counted himself lucky; he’d have had kittens by now if it weren’t for Lucifer’s surreptitious neuter, and the pitiful spines on his dick, besides. Alpha indeed.

Crowley had made one misplaced comment about how the food hadn’t been as good lately, and he was as good as thrown out of the nest by the scruff of his neck, being told, “go do something about it then.”

So, now, here he was, on a window ledge, about to let himself into some poor sod’s flat--a regular old cat burglar.

A cat burglar in Heat .

He’d considered hitting his favoured gated community for a hoard, but they’d recently employed a guard dog to patrol the east side, which is the side Crowley approached from. He couldn’t risk it in this state--most guard dogs being Alphas--no matter how friendly and approachable it seemed from a distance. All dogs could bite, in Crowley’s experience.

He couldn’t return to the colony in this state empty handed either, as he’d surely be given to Lucifer to be used as his plaything until his Heat abated. So he decided to give a block of flats a go. With his lithe moves, scaling the walls posed no obstacle for him, and he could easily raid several flats without even having to ring the front entrance’s ‘service’ buzzer. He’d try to keep the number of raids down though; the fewer flats he entered, the lower the risk of running into an Alpha. Heck, if he got lucky, maybe the person he was burgling was a heavy-sleeping Beta.

He didn’t get lucky. Crowley was never lucky.

He cracked open the window and slunk inside--spine more a suggestion than something limiting--and snuck soft-pawedly over the spotless kitchen sink that had reflective silver bowls stacked upon the draining board, then made his way into the open-plan living room. It was there that the smell finally hit him.

Trees. Grass. Sunshine.

Alpha .

The fire in Crowley’s belly galvanised, causing him to double over, cramping painfully. He’d never had a reaction like this to an Alpha before; Heat, Rut, or otherwise, which brought him to only one conclusion: the Alpha inside this flat was intact .

Crowley fought a whine attempting to escape his lips at the thought of successfully being bred, looking around frantically for something, anything he could grab and take and get out of there. He looked for a mobile phone, a laptop, a flat screen tv, any of the usuals, but there was nothing . Just shelves upon shelves of books, a comfortable looking armchair, and an ancient gramophone situated besides a stack of records.

Crowley blinked slitted, golden eyes in confusion. Had he just stumbled fifty years back in time? Was that possible somehow? He squinted at his surroundings in suspicion; no. Couldn’t be--it was all in colour, not monochromatic like in old movies, so what the fuck was going on?!

Continuing his attempt to find anything at all worth stealing, he moved deeper into the flat against his better judgement. Crowley knew these flats were on the small side, and the longer he spent time in one the more likely it was that he’d be discovered. But, instinctually, the sunshine scent was drawing him in, promising warmth and comfort, and with his insides hurting so much, how was he to resist?

Padding around quietly, he tried the next door he came across, which led to a small bathroom. Partially burned candles were dotted around every surface, and an array of fancy bottles containing who-knew-what lined the bath. Crowley shuddered; he hated water, content with the baths he gave himself instead. From the ceiling hung a single strap with a clip on the end, currently attached to nothing. He drew his brows together in confusion, unable to make sense of why it would be there. Deeming the room bare of anything worth taking, Crowley was left with only one other door in the tiny flat to try.

The bedroom.

The Alpha smell heightened as Crowley approached, becoming less diluted by air and his own scent. His insides writhed with want, and he panted as slick began to leak from between his legs, no doubt soiling his trousers, ginger-tipped black tail flicking from side to side all the while. With a long-fingered paw on the doorknob, he took a deep breath to steady his racing pulse, regretfully having the opposite effect when his instincts began clawing at him, telling him to find the potential mate he’d unwittingly stumbled upon. He tried to shake the thought from his head, cracked open the door, and subjected himself to unfiltered Alpha pheromones and a sight he’d never had predicted materialising before him.

An Alpha dog . 

The guard dog Crowley had seen patrolling the eastern side of his favourite gated community, specifically.

He laid on his back in bed, with a leg twitching in the air, a fluffy golden tail swishing back and forth; under the covers, and out of the covers again. Said covers had been pushed to the side, revealing a generous swell of furry belly that just begged to be rubbed and scratched whilst the dog wriggled and panted joyfully. The fur upon the Alpha’s head was as curly and light as Crowley recalled spotting from a distance, and his face, this close up, was handsome, even whilst asleep.

Crowley’d never thought he’d ever consider a dog handsome, but that’s what this one was. Handsome. And angelic. He looked like he should be standing guard outside of Heaven, not a street full of rich twats. He was sleeping peacefully, breathing gentle snores, wearing nothing but a pair of loose boxer shorts that Crowley couldn’t help but fixate on. The Alpha hadn’t reacted to his presence at all, but Crowley was definitely reacting to his . He was leaking profusely now, his cock hard and straining, spines raised. His insides ached to be filled, desperate to have another's cock inside him, stretching him, mating him. And from the size of the bulge hiding inside this Alpha's boxers, Crowley felt like he'd hit the jackpot.

If he couldn't find any items worth taking, maybe he could take something else? This Alpha was sleeping so soundly, so deeply , there was no way he'd wake up if Crowley were to just… play with him a bit? Crowley couldn't possibly leave this flat empty-handed and empty-arsed. He’d be driven mad. The stench of his Heat would attract Alphas on the street. He'd be in danger . No, best get himself a seeing to here, to satiate him until he was able to find another potential hit.

Crowley approached the sleeping Alpha, his scent enticing and inviting, and slowly and carefully pried the elastic of his waistband away from his skin. He peeked inside, squeezing his legs together in unabashed arousal. This Alpha was huge , his red rocket more of a fucking space station. His balls hung heavy and full between his legs, whole and ready to make puppies. Or kittens. Puppens? Kitties? Kitties! Crowley was delirious with lust, unable to organise his thoughts past ‘I need that in my mouth right fucking now.’

He yanked the underwear down as far as he could without waking the sleeping Alpha, then unceremoniously took the enormous flaccid cock into his mouth, relishing the weight of it on his tongue. Nature and sunshine scent filled his nose, provoking him to salivate further; he was making a mess of this Alpha already, and he'd only just gotten started.

Heavy breaths above him continued, speckled with quiet moans every so often. Though the Alpha stayed asleep, his cock very much did not. It filled Crowley’s mouth, stretching his jaw, and he was all at once very glad for his lack of gag reflex. It made getting rid of hairballs a pain, but it was perfect for this kind of activity. Precome splashed over his tongue, and he pulled off with a quiet pop to see the fruits of his labour. Space station was right. The Alpha’s cock stood tall and proud and straining, and even though it was spineless, Crowley couldn't wait to feel it inside him. He tugged and he yanked his ridiculous skinny jeans down, kicking them off along with his boots, then licked his lips. The Alpha would wake not knowing a thing was out of place. Crowley would get his, get out, and no one would be any the wiser.

Slowly, carefully, Crowley straddled the Alpha's hips, propped up his cock with a spare hand, and surreptitiously lowered himself onto it. The first breach had him biting back a moan, the sensation of slick escaping him and coating the cock he was still holding. The Alpha snored lightly again before returning to gentle breathing. Still asleep. Crowley continued to take the generous length of him inside, cone-shaped cock stretching him inch by sinful inch until, at last, he rested flush against the bulge of his knot. The stretch was unlike anything he had been fortunate enough to experience before; Lucifer’s cock paling in comparison to what Crowley was impaling himself with right at that moment. He had to take a few steadying breaths to adjust to the sheer size of this hound, and then he began to move .

Crowley raised up on his knees, then lowered back down, rhythmically fucking himself on this sleeping stranger, gaining the satisfaction he'd need for his Heat to abate. He’d only need to stay for the one orgasm, though he'd consider himself lucky if the Alpha orgasmed along with him. He salivated at the thought of that gargantuan knot slipping inside him, joining him to the Alpha to ensure a successful conception--but he wouldn't be able to do that tonight, couldn't take the risk. If he were knotted, he'd be trapped, unable to make a quick escape were this guard dog to wake. Who knew what he’d do to him were he discovered? Coincidentally, the thrill of danger only heightened Crowley's arousal.

With every thrust and grind, Crowley’s Heat became more and more satisfied and more and more ravenous in equal measure. The more he took, the more he wanted; a vicious cycle he could feel coming to a head. He was fully bouncing on this Alpha's cock now, pressing his lips together hard to suppress any sounds wanting to slip free, but in his pleasure-filled haze, he failed to notice the noises the Alpha was making, increasing both in frequency and volume.

Crowley felt his orgasm build, skin tingly where his fur stood on end; just as he reached the summit, strong hands landed on his hips and pulled him down roughly, gigantic knot slipping inside him in one fell push, becoming even more enormous as it swelled. Crowley scrunched his eyes up and yelled in shock and pleasure, orgasm tearing through him, spend spattering over the Alpha’s belly and chest in long, white stripes. Below him there was grunting and grinding and panting, and then, all at once, the Alpha went limp. All was still and calm for a few quiet moments, Crowley praying to a god he believed in but didn’t trust that the Alpha had stayed asleep, before he tensed back up beneath him, gasping in shock.

“Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry, my dear! I thought I was dreaming.”

Crowley’s eyes flew open. The Alpha was looking at him with wide, stormy eyes. Crowley expected them to be filled with fear, even confusion, but instead they only showed concern.

Crowley frowned, feeling a bit wrong-footed. “It’s…all right?” he tried, unsure what to make of this reaction.

“I haven't hurt you, have I?” the Alpha asked, running hands up and down Crowley’s thighs in a soothing motion. 

Crowley sighed at the touch, taking stock of his body. The unyielding need had calmed, the oddness of the situation enough to shock his body into a temporary Heat Strike. His cock flagged, and his entrance was sore where it had been stretched almost, but not quite, beyond its limit. Overall, he felt very full, and more than a bit wary.

“N- no?” he offered.

The Alpha breathed a sigh of relief, looking like he genuinely meant it. “Oh, oh good. I don't think I could ever forgive myself were I to hurt such a precious kitten.”

Crowley’s hackles raised, and his back would've arched threateningly if it weren't for the knot inside anchoring him to the Alpha's hips.

“I'll have you know I am a feral Tom cat, thank you very much!” he spat.

The Alpha’s hands stilled. “Oh. Are you?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yessss,” Crowley hissed, fangs glinting in the low light shining in through the partially open curtains. “The very sight of me on the streets strikes fear into the hearts of my enemies, before they turn tail and run.”

“Yes?”

“I am ferocious -” Crowley continued, unsure whether he was trying to convince this Alpha or himself, but was interrupted by the Alpha cupping his cheek, scratching behind the rigid ear peeking out from the waves of hair on his head. Crowley groaned, and stuttered out a purr.

“Mmm, yes, I see. A very ferocious kitten you are,” the Alpha teased, gently bucking his hips, unmooring Crowley further. He couldn't even bring himself to refute it under the Alpha’s ministrations. “And tell me, dear ferocious kitten, what are you doing in my flat in the middle of the night, in my bedroom, riding my cock whilst I sleep?”

Crowley was too busy purring and leaning into the Alpha’s paw to respond, until the Alpha’s hand slipped down and grabbed him--gently but firmly--by the scruff of his neck.

“I'm going to need an answer, pet,” the Alpha said, not unkindly.

Crowley growled at being scruffed, and the loss of the ear scritches. “I'm no one's pet,” he snapped.

“No?”

“No,” Crowley sneered. “No one is worthy of having me as a pet. I am an independent stray.”

“And this independent stray is in my abode because…?”

“I'm robbing you, obviously.”

“Obviously,” the Alpha mocked dryly. “Though, I hate to disappoint you, but my virginity went eons ago.”

Crowley spluttered, reeling back, causing his rim to tug at the Alpha’s knot, both of them gasping. The Alpha’s hands flew to Crowley’s hips to still him.

“Settle down,” soothed the Alpha, kneading softly at Crowley’s skin. “No need to be a scaredy cat.”

“I am not a scaredy cat!” snarled Crowley. “And I didn’t come in here to steal your- your virginity ,” he hissed, affronted. “I’m here to steal your tv, or your mobile, or your laptop, or-”

“You’re doing a terrible job of it,” the Alpha criticised. “For one, I don’t own any such devices-”

“So I’ve discovered!”

“-and secondly, you are knotted on my cock .” He enunciated those last words carefully, as if concerned with being misunderstood. “Tell me why.”

“I wasn’t trying to be knotted on your cock,” huffed Crowley, inwardly enjoying the attention the Alpha’s paws were giving to his thighs. “That was you. I was gonna scarper once I’d gotten my rocks off.”

The Alpha pursed his lips and looked for all the world like a disappointed college professor trying to explain something simple to one of his students. “I told you, I was dreaming , and also you seem to be missing the point of the question.”

“Which is?” Crowley sneered.

“Why mount me in the first place?” The Alpha raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

“I-” Crowley stammered. Why had he? It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. “Why aren’t you angry with me?” he asked in lieu of answering the Alpha’s question with ‘Heat brain made me’.

“Why?” The Alpha furrowed his brow. “Would you like me to be?”

Crowley flinched. “Well, no-” he started.

“I don’t know about you, kitten, but I’m not much one for eviscerating someone for giving me a truly spectacular orgasm.” The Alpha’s face pinkened, and he averted his gaze shyly. “Especially not someone as unobtainably gorgeous as you,” he tacked on quietly.

The compliment sent a zing up Crowley’s spine, his tail straightening behind him in a spasm, and just like that, the Heat Strike was over. His pulse quickened, body temperature rising in the blink of an eye, rim twitching and clenching on this Angel’s knot, pressing it insistently into his prostate, orgasm wrenched from him without warning. He yowled unabashedly now that he was no longer trying to keep quiet, cock spurting and leaking a puddle onto the Alpha's already besmirched stomach.

Said Alpha gasped and groaned at the sensation of his knot being rhythmically squeezed, toes clenching and legs scrambling on the mattress for any semblance of control. Crowley came down with a whine, arousal still burning hotly within him despite being two orgasms in. Once he’d regained his breath, the Alpha reached up and petted Crowley’s head comfortingly.

“Oh, you poor dear, you're in Heat,” he crooned, outwardly thrilled when Crowley began purring again. “Why ever are you burgling homes in this condition?”

“Mmm, got to,” Crowley mumbled, fullness and fondling pacifying him momentarily. “Cat's gotta eat, gotta provide for the colony.”

“Not in this state, you don't,” the Alpha admonished, running the paw that wasn’t in Crowley’s hair soothingly along his flank. “An Omega in Heat should be tended to, not put to work.”

Crowley scoffed deprecatingly. “ ‘Tended to, ’” he spat, still purring. “I chose to stay out on the prowl tonight,” he explained. “Could've gone back, but this's better, better than arriving back in the colony empty handed.”

The Alpha pouted. “Don't worry, darling thing,” he promised. “We’ll wait for my knot to go down, and then I'll make sure you get taken care of.”

Crowley whimpered. ‘ Taken care of ’ could mean anything. This guard dog could even turn him in to the shelter, where he'd be trapped for the rest of his days unless someone picked him up. But he wasn't daft; an old Tom like him wouldn't get picked, especially once they spayed him to prevent overpopulation.

“No,” his voice hitched on a sob, insides equally scared and burning with arousal. “Please don't make me go.”

“It'll only be until I've fetched some supplies,” the Alpha promised, soothing motions picking up in the wake of Crowley's panic.

“No!” Crowley cried again. “I need you, Alpha. Want you.”

He clenched around the Alpha’s knot with intent, pants picking up between desperate sobs, his hard prick bobbing up and down between them. The Alpha threw his head back and grit his teeth, writhing beneath Crowley as he took what he needed from him once more. He placed a hand on his cock for the first time that evening, and began tugging at it furiously.

“Need you, want you,” he began to chant, rocking his hips, grinding them down the scant distance the knot inside him would allow.

The Alpha knocked his hand away, and gripped him himself. “Allow me.”

Crowley hissed, grabbing his wrist and moving him in the motion that felt best. “Watch the spines,” he muttered between hiccoughs.

The Alpha made a curious sound, but copied what Crowley had shown him. It was less than a minute later when Crowley came again, a shuddering, weak thing of an orgasm that had him falling forward into the embrace of a sticky Alpha. Said Alpha wrapped his arms around him, and pressed a kiss between the ears on his head.

“There, sweet thing,” he cooed, stroking down his spine and up along his tail, causing it to flick and the muscles in his sides twitch. “You have a little rest now, and we'll get you sorted in two shakes of a lamb's tail.”

“Sounds… tasty…” Crowley mumbled, before closing his eyes and letting sleep take him.

--

At some point whilst he slept, the Alpha must have rolled the two of them over, slipping out once his knot had finally shrunk. Crowley woke expecting to find himself sticky and damp, with fluids crusted to his skin, but he was clean and warm and dry. A cursory clench of his hole left him wincing with oversensitivity, though revealing he wasn't completely empty. He snaked a hand down between his legs, fingers coming in contact with the flared base of a plug held within him, preventing his slick from oozing out. His thighs and arse had been thoroughly washed whilst he slept.

Crowley searched the bed with eyes squeezed shut, whining when his paws came up empty. His insides ached with the need to mate yet again--and would for several more days to come--and now this Alpha had deserted him, most likely gone to phone the warden.

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and he promised himself he wouldn't cry if he could help it, when the mattress dipped and the scent of sunshine and trees filled his nose. He opened slitted eyes, focusing on the hand in front of his face, sniffing at it tentatively, then pushing into it, the hand moving up between his eyes and into his hair in a long stroke. He immediately melted back into the bed and started up a contented purr.

“You sweet thing,” the Alpha doted, saying bashfully, “I thought you might sleep better if you didn’t feel empty. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh no , someone touched me whilst I slept. What a monster ,” Crowley mumbled sarcastically, before dragging himself forward and flopping on the Alpha’s lap. The stroking continued from the top of his head to the base of his tail, and Crowley thought he was in Heaven; Heat a background thrum to the relief of his Alpha being by his side.

“Oh yes, truly despicable. A foul fiend,” the Alpha murmured fondly, obviously enjoying the weight on his lap.

“That’d better be me that you’re talking about, because from what I’ve seen you’re an absolute angel.” Crowley began flexing his hands and grasping at the bedding in a self-soothing motion.

“Pish posh, I’ve done unangelic things without doubt.”

“Don’t care. Y’ain’t done them to me , unless- unless you were thinking of calling the warden on me,” Crowley finished quietly, subtly shifting more of his weight onto the Alpha and purring underhandedly.

The Alpha’s hand stilled as he gasped. “No, I could never! For, what ? Succumbing to your instincts? Giving this touch-starved old mutt more physical affection than he’s had in months? I think not. Though, I’ve a feeling I’m being a lot more receptive than most would, so I wouldn’t go making a habit of, well, this.”

Crowley whined until the petting picked up again, then resettled with a boneless purr. “Nope, lesson learned. No more grand larceny during a Heat.”

“No more grand larceny at all ,” tutted the Alpha. “Don’t you want a different life than a life of crime? Maybe… maybe you’d consider staying here, providing an old dog some company?” he continued, tone tentatively hopeful.

Crowley frowned, lifting his head, purrs continuing. “How’d that work?” he questioned. “You're a guard dog, I'm a cat burglar. We're on opposite sides.”

“Oh, I don't care much about that, pet-”

“I told you, I'm no one’s pet!” Crowley snapped.

“My dear,” the Alpha began smugly, “you are now .”

“You-” Crowley’s voice hitched, head snapping around to look straight up at the Alpha, “You've got a pet licence?” he asked, equal parts hopeful and suspicious.

“I do,” the Alpha confirmed simply. “I acquired it a short while ago, as I've been feeling particularly lonely as of late--no one wants a soft canine like me as a Mate--but I just couldn't bring myself to go down to the shelter to peruse those darling souls as if I were…” His nose scrunched. “Shopping,” he said distastefully, but then he smiled. “But instead the cat distribution system found me, and I think I’ll be keeping the stray that has wandered into my home.”

“ Wha-? ” Crowley tried to get his head around what this Alpha was saying, but the persistently creeping Heat was congesting his brain. “No one wants you? Fucking idiots, the lot of them. You’re gorgeous, Angel.”

The Alpha’s eyebrow twitched upward. “Angel?”

“Yeah, with your kindness, and your halo of blond curls, the righteousness you exude with every fibre of your being. You are a guard dog, after all- are you even allowed to keep a cat?!”

“I don’t see why not,” the Alpha hummed. “I’ve always been fond of cats, and I’d say I’d be doing a rather fine job of being a guard dog if I’m preventing you from burgling Eden Estate anymore,” he finished with a glint in his eye.

Crowley’s purrs stuttered on a gasp as he sprung to all fours, looming over the Alpha. “You know me?”

“My dear, as if I could ever forget that beautiful head of red hair you have.” His eyes now positively gleamed with mirth. “Not to mention that you matched the description given to me by all your quarries: ‘walks with a sway that may suggest injury, perches on tree branches with complete disregard for the art of sitting’. I’m glad to see the speculative injury is just your natural swagger.”

“Gargggh,” Crowley roared, resting his head against the Alpha’s shoulder in embarrassed frustration. The scent of Alpha crept into his senses, his body reheating as the next wave of arousal built despite his chagrin.

“It's a good thing you didn't try to approach whilst I was on duty, as I don't think I would've been able to resist chasing you down,” the Alpha mused.

The thought had Crowley shuddering and clenching around the insufficient plug filling him; he could feel the build up of slick waiting to break free. He buried his face deeper into the Alpha’s neck, nosing the scent gland.

“Should I call you master?” he panted, tongue darting out to sample his scented oils.

The Alpha sighed pleasantly. “You may call me Aziraphale.”

Crowley groaned, pushing his body flush to the Alpha's, beginning to topple him over. “Aziraphale,” he repeated, “should I call you master?”

“I thought we just- Oh!” he cut himself off when realisation struck, “Your Heat is picking back up?”

“Mmhmm,” Crowley confirmed, wantonly frotting against Aziraphale’s plush, dressing gowned body.

“Then, my dear, allow me to take care of you.”

Aziraphale gripped him by the hips, tossing him back onto the bed as if he weighed nothing at all. He flipped him so he was facedown, and yanked his hips up so he was presenting. Crowley groaned in arousal, instincts eager to submit to whatever this Alpha wanted.

The Alpha wanted to toggle at the protruding plug a bit. “Oh yes, this poor thing has been working overtime, hasn't it?” He nudged it gently at first, then pushed it in further before pulling back and twisting. Crowley felt a dribble of slick break free finally, quivering with need.

He wasn't so far gone to his instincts yet that he wasn't able to ask one more burning question that was desperate to escape him.

“Alpha?” he asked.

“Hm?” Aziraphale hummed, angling the plug to press more insistently at Crowley’s prostate.

He let out a string of nonsensical consonants until the Alpha let up a bit. “Ngk, why- why do you own a buttplug?” he asked, not without effort.

There was a puff of laughter from behind him. “Well, kitten, you're about to find out that I am very fond of ‘doggy style’.”

Crowley could only contemplate that for a single moment when Aziraphale popped the plug loose from the clench of Crowley's body, slick pouring freely over his perineum and balls. No sooner had the cooling fluid had Crowley cringing, was Aziraphale lapping it all back up, making sounds so pornographic Crowley had to wonder whether he was impaling himself on a toy at the same time. A quick peek behind him proved he wasn't; he was just enjoying Crowley juices that much.

There was a smack of lips. “Kitten, you are simply delectable. Do you know what you taste like?” Aziraphale asked from behind him, slowly swirling his fingers through the slick still oozing from within him.

Crowley’s head was too muddled with lust to form a coherent answer, which was just as well as Aziraphale offered up slick covered fingers for Crowley to suck on. He drew them into his mouth, familiar taste subduing his thoughts further, submitting him purely to his instincts.

A hot, fluffy chest pressed in a long line along his back, and hot breath puffed in his ear. “Caramel apples,” the breath sighed blissfully. “I could devour you for all eternity.”

Crowley sank into the feeling of an Alpha governing him, coming the instant he was breached by the head of that hot, red rocket.

Things got a bit fuzzy after that.

He came dozens more times over the course of his Heat, Aziraphale caring for him in every moment he wasn't retrieving more towels or food. Sometimes he was knotted--in those times he found sleep came easy, knowing his Alpha couldn't leave him even if he wanted to--and sometimes Aziraphale used his mouth or fingers instead. Either way it was the best Heat Crowley had ever experienced, and a very small part of his subconscious didn't want it to end.

But a bigger, more reasonable part knew it had to. Four days after Crowley crawled through a flat’s window with the intention to burgle it, he woke up with a pleasantly aching hole, body sore in a way he could relish, with a warm Alpha pressed up against his back, arm wrapped possessively across his torso. The Alpha’s legs kicked out in his sleep as if he were chasing something. It was adorable.

As Crowley began to wiggle free to perform some much needed bodily functions and self-cleaning, the arm slung around him tightened, pulling him back into an embrace.

“Where do you think you're going?” mumbled the sleepy voice behind him.

“Bathroom. Need the loo,” he whispered back, hoping Aziraphale would go back to sleep to get more hard earned rest.

No such luck.

“A brilliant idea. I'll get you a collar,” he yawned, letting Crowley go in lieu of rummaging through the bedside table. “Come on then pet, off you pop.”

“O…K….?” Crowley replied unsure, making his way back to the bathroom he'd stumbled upon during his initial recon.

Aziraphale followed, standing respectfully by the door whilst Crowley went through his ablutions in relative privacy. He scraped his feet on the floor, then flushed the toilet to be rid of the evidence, and just as he lifted his paw ready to give himself a thorough cleaning, the aforementioned collar was looped around his neck and secured into place. He looked up at Aziraphale wide eyed.

“Excuse me?” he asked, mouth not forthcoming with anything more useful.

“You're excused,” Aziraphale said happily. “You're mine now. I should've put this on you days ago. Really, how neglectful of me to not assure you of how wanted you are.”

Crowley’s ears burned, his whole being lighting up in delight at the knowledge that he was desired, that someone wanted to keep and care for him, that-

“Nevermind. It’s on you now just in time for your shower,” Aziraphale finished.

“My what-? ”

Aziraphale picked Crowley up and unceremoniously plonked him into the bathtub, clipping the collar to the strap on the ceiling.

“What?” Crowley asked, trying to move but being held fast. “What is this? Why am I restrained like this?”

“Oh, my dear,” Aziraphale chuckled. “I wasn't going to let you give yourself a tongue bath , don't be silly! You've come in off the street; you'll be getting a thorough wash before you get a run of the apartment.”

Dread filled Crowley. “No, wait. No- ”

“Don't fret, kitten, this is how I always shower. Stops me from moving around too much, getting shampoo in my eyes.”

“No-!” Crowley pleaded again, but it was too late. Aziraphale turned on the water spray, detaching the head from the wall to better douse Crowley with.

The way he hissed and cried, anyone would think he were in a torture chamber, and Aziraphale told him as much. Aziraphale spoke a command to forcibly calm him, then meticulously ran soapy hands and a cloth over every accessible inch of Crowley, lathering up his body, before shampooing and conditioning the long locks of fur on his head. He skritched at his scalp, and despite Crowley's absolute hatred of water and showers, after a while he could admit that it felt pretty nice.

Once he was all rinsed off and unclipped from the shower, Aziraphale wrapped him up in a warm towel and carried him back to the bedroom, depositing him on a chair positioned by the window.

“I'll have to change the bedding before I can lay you back down in our nest, but first let's get you dressed and fed.” Aziraphale bustled about in a wardrobe, producing warm, soft looking pyjamas. “We'll have to go out shopping for some new clothes for you--I imagine your colony won't part with yours--but for now, these should do.”

Aziraphale brushed the fur on Crowley’s head whilst he wolfed down toast and jam with a cup of coffee--black, as cow’s milk is bad for cats--before laying him down in the living room armchair ready for a mid-morning nap in the sunshine.

Aziraphale stroked his silky ears as he settled in, purring. “There's a lovely pussycat,” he crooned, giving those skritches Crowley felt he might die for. “Tell me, pet: what name should I put on the name tag on your collar? Or should I pick one for you?”

Crowley pushed up into the hand fussing him, and cheeked it possessively. “Crowley,” he said. “My name is Crowley.”

–

“Bloody buggering fuck!” Crowley swore from the kitchen.

“Bitten yourself again, have you?”

Crowley saunted in with an affirmative noise, wiping up blood from the corner of his mouth.

“I've never had a cat before. Do your fangs usually stay so sharp this long after a Heat?”

“No, they go down as soon as the Heat ends. Unless…” Crowley trailed off, paling.

“...Unless?” prompted Aziraphale, none the wiser.

Crowley’s hand flew to his stomach, his mouth forming a perfect ‘o’.

Aziraphale’s eyes widened with realisation.

“But… How?! ”