A/N: Following on tradition (seeing as how two of the greatest writers ever got together to write GO) this story was written by two fanfiction authors who loved said book. SilverWolf7 and DragonEyeZ.
Disclaimer - Miss Wolf and Miss Dragon do not own any of these characters. They all belong to the two geniuses we are not, Mr Pratchett and Mr Gaiman.
It Feels Like Love
"There's something odd about this area," said Aziraphale. "Can't you feel it?"
"What?"
"Slow down a moment."
The Bentley slowed again.
"Odd," muttered the angel, "I keep getting these flashes of, of..."
He raised his hands to his temples.
"What? What?" said Crowley.
Aziraphale stared at him.
"Love," he said. "Someone really loves this place."
"Pardon?"
"There seems to be this great sense of love. I can't put it any better than that. Especially not to you."
"Do you mean like-" Crowley began.
- Good Omens Corgi Edition (1991) p89.
"Do you mean like," Crowley began, "I mean, does it feel like orgasm?"
Aziraphale looked offended.
"And why do you think I would know how that feels like?"
"But it feels like...like..." Crowley muttered, staring out at the dark road through the Bentley's windscreen.
"Like what?" the angel asked. "It's hard to tell, because I don't know how orgasms feel, and you don't know how love feels."
"You know...one of those things could be remedied."
The angel blinked once. Then a second time. Then merely said: "Oh dear."
Crowley smiled like a snake. "Indeed," the demon replied managing to somehow hiss the word.
"Well, er, how would one go about it then?" Aziraphale asked, his voice that little bit higher than normal.
The next couple of minutes were a little fuzzy for the both of them, but, somehow, they ended up in the back seat of the Bentley, shirts, sweaters and jackets left somewhere in the front seats, and Crowley was currently straddling angelic hips. At least, he concluded while sampling Aziraphale's flavour of cocoa and otherworldly tastes, the angel apparently did know how to make an effort. And the most delightfully sinful noises were escaping those parted lips.
Aziraphale was trying to push him harder against his hips, trying to maintain just a little more friction between the two, when Crowley hopped off his lap, spread the angel's legs and bent to nuzzle the definite evidence that the angel was enjoying himself. Soon he wasn't just nuzzling.
Although he was enjoying himself, the explosive mix of a groan and a shriek was even more pleasing to his ears. He was a demon, after all, and the desire to torment lay within his very essence. Even if it did mean he would be a bit uncomfortable for a bit, he didn't mind, just as long as Aziraphale had his orgasm. And then he could go off and have as many as he wanted. Preferably having a few here with the angel.
Aziraphale was moaning madly and pulled at Crowley's hair, apparently trying to give some kind of warning. The demon cackled deep in his throat and increased his efforts, trying to get exactly the result that the angel was by now - futilely - trying to avoid.
A couple of minutes later the angel appeared to be quite interested in the roof of the Bentley, although breathless and cheeks flushed a colour the demon was tempted to even call 'cute'.
"Well?"
"Well what, my dear?" Aziraphale asked, still slightly breathless.
"Does that feel anything like this love of yours?"
The angel pursed his lips, and it was only the knowledge that he would respond to the question that kept the demon from doing what he did best and initiate a continuation of the activities they had just been through.
"In a sense, yes. It does bear a resemblance."
"Hmm. You ssssure?" Crowley could not help his hiss. Not that he tried to prevent it, either. "Or perhapss you need another demonssstration?"
Aziraphale smiled slightly but shook his head. "No, once was enough for me."
Crowley fought the desire to throttle the angel there and then, but took a few steadying breaths, telling himself that it would be a bad idea to discorporate his associate. After all, he might risk the powers Upstairs would send down someone less agreeable.
His thoughts were crudely interrupted, however, when the angel sat up, slid a hand down the demon's chest, and merely closed it around a specific part of the human anatomy. It then begun to move in the most maddening way imaginable to even a demon.
"Oh? Oh. Ooh… OH!"
The angel raised an eyebrow at the demon's outburst, and politely wiped his hand on a handkerchief that had not been there before.
"Ah," Aziraphale said, waving his hand and the handkerchief vanished. "Very...educational."
"Oooohh..."
"Are you quite all right, dear?"
Crowley turned a red-rimmed glare to the angel before he pounced, eager to show exactly how pleasure could be recieved. If anyone was watching the Bentley from outside and was able to see in the pitch-black darkness, they would have been able to observe its slow rocking.
There was a whirr, a scream and a clunk. The car stopped.