Okay, here we go, one last time into NSFW territory! If you're not interested in the sexual aspect of this relationship and/or "M" rated material, skip this chapter.
This sort of scene, once again, was inevitable, I think. Crowley and Aziraphale are about to, for lack of a better word, die. They have a very limited amount of time in which to do and say everything they need to, and to be everything that they need to be to each other.
In the previous chapter, Crowley did some descriptive narration, shall we say, in asserting what he would do tonight with (and to) the angel if they had forever. But since they don't, he said he'd like to do something he's never done before: make love. Properly.
And so, in spite of a few bits and pieces of true smut, the goal here is for emotion and beauty in the chapter to take precedence over what is titillating about it.
And here we go. Please enjoy!
TWENTY
Aziraphale replaced the glass toy back in the black bag, along with the tiny bottle, took it in one hand, and allowed Crowley to take the other hand and lead him out of the kitchen. As they moved through the flat, they turned off lights, and shut down for the night. Actually, shut down forever.
Crowley closed the door to the bedroom, took off his glasses and threw them aside onto a credenza. He approached, and smirked at the angel, genuinely unsure of what to do next. Somehow, his usual swaggering bravado wasn't going to do just now, neither would any filthy talk, nor pretentious lovemaking overtures.
Aziraphale smiled back, a bit sheepishly. He set the little black bag down on the end of the bed, moved toward Crowley, and said, "Here. This time, let me."
He took the pinstriped black lapels and tugged gently, and their lips found each other. Crowley groaned in surprise and delight, then opened his mouth when the angel's tongue came probing.
As the kiss grew hungrier and deeper, Aziraphale slithered his hands inside the demon's jacket and pushed back on the sleeves, until the wearer wriggled out of it and discarded it on the floor. He then untucked the charcoal-grey v-neck tee, and tugged at the hem, feeling Crowley's flat, sinewy, lightly-hairy stomach graze the backs of his fingers. Crowley took the hint, and pulled away from the angelic lips, just long enough to get the shirt over his head.
The angel then allowed his hands to rove over the demon's shoulders, arms, chest, back, stomach, explore the warm flesh as he'd often wanted to, in unguarded moments over the centuries, watching him saunter about, being beautiful and knowing it.
Aziraphale, too, now pulled away for just a moment, and smiled. "You are absolutely delectable, have I ever told you that?"
Crowley smiled as well. "Never with words. Occasionally with your eyes, if you thought I wasn't looking."
Aziraphale blushed. "Those blasted dark glasses. Can't tell where you're looking."
Crowley giggled a bit, and leaned back into the kiss, and once again, began the arduous task of peeling the angel out of his clothing… bowtie first.
When every stitch of both sets of clothing was properly strewn about the bedroom floor, Crowley gestured to the armchair, and said, "Sit."
Aziraphale obliged, then watched the demon saunter across the room once more, this time naked, apparently having found his groove again. He returned with the black bag.
"Do you understand why we have this?" Crowley asked, kneeling at the angel's feet, and taking the glass implement out of the box.
"I think so."
"One cannot just, you know… rush into advanced flying. As I said, this is the intermediate level. It will help you stretch and train your body a little bit, and make things much more pleasant for you in the end. No pun intended."
"All right," Aziraphale said, back to being the nervous, skittish angel he'd been twenty-four hours prior.
He watched Crowley open the little bottle of lubricant, and drizzle it over the spade-end, then spread it all over with his palm. Something about this little action made Aziraphale shudder, and begin, once more to pant. His cock had long-since been standing up, rock-hard, and he couldn't help but moan just a bit at the sight.
Crowley smiled at this, then asked, "Can you slouch a little for me? So that your lower back is on the cushion of the chair, and your knees are on either side of me?"
"All right," Aziraphale replied, properly, whilst pushing his bum forward, arranging himself the way Crowley had asked.
"Perfect, angel. Now, just relax."
He leaned forward, took Aziraphale's distended member at the base with one hand, and engulfed the head and shaft with his mouth. Aziraphale moaned deeply, his eyes first rolled back, and then closed altogether. He bit his lower lip rather hard as the demon's slippery mouth pulled back up tightly, only to dip down once more. Crowley's lips were now pressed against the base of the angel's cock, where it met his body, and the head was down his throat. He couldn't help but echo the deep moan, then pull back up yet again, tightly pursing his lips, and blurring Aziraphale's vision.
With a wet pop, Crowley released the head, and with an evil grin, he asked, "Feel good?"
"Oh, yes," Aziraphale answered, from the depths of his lungs.
"Good. Just let it."
Crowley dipped his head back down, and continued to work the angel's member over with his mouth, lips, and tongue. He could feel the difference, just since last night – Aziraphale had become much more comfortable with the idea of all of this, with having pleasure showered upon him, being serviced, with only enjoyment, love, and orgasm as the goal. Come to that, he, himself, was incredibly enamoured of doing this for someone, when there was no other goal than that… no ruse, no ultimate disgrace, no perceived soul-marring, no orders, no strings, and no guilt.
With that thought in mind, never stopping his oral attentions, Crowley reached for the glass tool, and pressed the rounded end to Aziraphale's tight opening.
Momentarily, Aziraphale's eyes opened, and he exclaimed mildly, "Oh, my," and looked down, attempting to see what was happening.
But Crowley crippled him with a flick of the tongue in just the right spot, and Aziraphale could do nothing but exhale helplessly, moan deliciously, and the spade was on its way inside.
Over time, Crowley worked it in further, then out again, little by little, distracting his receptive and superb partner with his mouth, helping all pieces of their intended lovemaking to fall into place, smoothly, and painlessly.
When the work was done, Aziraphale was certain that all of his senses were lost forever in a fog of hedonistic pleasure, and that he would discorporate from the impending explosion alone. His last thought was, "This will be bloody well worth it," just before he buried his hand in Crowley's hair, grunted a guttural obscenity, and released everything he had, filling the demon's mouth.
He panted for a few hazy moments, then opened his eyes, to find another pair looking back. A pair that were yellow, serpentine, and crazed with desire.
"Now what?" the angel asked.
"You tell me," Crowley breathed. "Only you can say when you're ready. Though, if I were you, I'd give it a few more minutes."
Aziraphale noticed that Crowley was, once more, rather absently, slowly, palming his own cock. It was definitely stiff, leaking fluid, and seemed to be suffering under the weight of anticipation.
So, the angel sat up slowly, and edged his bum back onto the chair, putting weight on his arms. Carefully, he let himself settle, and as pressure mounted against the instrument inside of him, he opened his mouth, and let out little curls of breath. "My goodness, that's extraordinary," he moaned. Then he said, "Stand up."
Crowley obliged, and in this position, Aziraphale slid the demon's entire hard length into his mouth, remembering a few of the "techniques" he'd learned the previous evening. Within just a few minutes, Crowley was grasping the back of his neck, slamming his head forward, and coming, with gorgeous, groans and throbs. Aziraphale happily swallowed it all, then relished watching the demon swoon a bit, before catching his breath.
Aziraphale stood up to join Crowley, guided him to the bed, and the two of them sank into it, and enjoyed another delicious few minutes of mouths searching each other, tongues dancing together, and moans and sighs twisting through the room together like perfect helices.
And when both were hard again, breathless and bursting, Aziraphale said, "Crowley, I'm ready."
"Okay," the demon whispered. "Sure?"
"Yes," Aziraphale gulped. "I'm ready. I'm desperately ready."
"Turn over on your side." Aziraphale turned and lay on his right, and Crowley spooned up behind him. He kissed his way across the angel's shoulders, and whispered, "Six thousand years, and it all comes down to this moment."
Aziraphale craned his neck back to look at his golden-eyed companion. "I've wanted this for so long, and I haven't even known it for most of the time."
"Me too," Crowley said, reaching down to pull on the glass spade. "Only I've known it quite well." He planted more kisses, nipped a bit with his teeth.
Aziraphale groaned as the tool moved slowly out. Crowley discarded it beside him, then placed one arm under the angel's head. Aziraphale instinctively grabbed that hand, and bent the elbow to kiss it.
Crowley reached out with his free hand, and made the little bottle of lubricant fly across the room. He drizzled a bit over his own aching member, then pressed his pelvis forward, placing it between Aziraphale's warm, rounded, fleshy buttocks. He moved back and forth, sliding it up and down, teasing the angel as much as himself, and making them both moan.
"Crowley, stop it," Aziraphale gasped after several minutes. "Stop playing games – I want you inside me."
"Oh…" Crowley groaned. "Say that again."
Aziraphale repeated himself, a little bit lower this time.
"Crook your left leg, angel," said Crowley into his lover's ear. "And breathe out, slowly."
As always, Aziraphale obliged, and he found his body being breached, penetrated, utterly thrilled. He'd been properly conditioned, and Crowley's cock slid in slowly but smoothly, and neither could help but give delicious, harried, moans of relief. And of perfect, piercing pleasure.
For a few moments, they just stayed this way… still, and interlocking. They had been in this state, metaphorically, for nigh on a thousand years. They had to take a few moments to breathe, to inhale the moment, to feel one wrapped around the other, in long-awaited, flawless warmth, fluidity, and just pure love.
"I love you," Crowley whispered in the angel's ear barely audibly, while lightly kissing his neck. "I've loved you for so long, I can't even say. Wanted you, wanted to be inside you, for even longer."
"And I love you," Aziraphale whispered, kissing the demon's hand, and the inside of his arm. "And I cannot think of any more moving a way to see out this life. One set of beautiful, longed-for moments, never to be repeated."
Crowley placed one hand on the angel's hip and began to move. Back, then forward. Out, then in. He pushed a bit, then pulled, buried himself, then pulled away… over and over again, slowly, deliberately, with care, kisses, groans, whispers, heads swimming with lust and love, words of heat and desire on their lips.
For the first time ever, Aziraphale now properly handled his own cock, wrapping his hand around it, and beginning to stroke.
"I love watching you do that," Crowley lilted, propping his head on one hand, and looking down.
Aziraphale said nothing, but put his head back, and turned up his mouth to be kissed. Crowley didn't disappoint of course, and their tongues found the rhythm, along with their bodies.
It was long and beautiful, more stirring than any experience of either of their lives – celestial, infernal, miraculous, sexual or otherwise. This was it.
And with both bodies soaked with sweat, and now Crowley's hand having joined Aziraphale's, in pulling toward ecstasy, Crowley also found himself moving faster, grunting a bit more, and the angel found himself pushing back, meeting each stroke, relishing the out as much as the in.
And it all came to a glorious end in just a few moments when Crowley said, breathlessly, "I'm going to come inside you, angel. After all this… after everything… I'm… oh…"
He bit down on Aziraphale's shoulder as his cock spasmed, and every bit of desire and desperation he felt, all of the pent-up angst, even that which he'd been harbouring since the sexual relationship began only three days ago… it all came pouring out of him, and into his partner. He groaned, and thrust repeatedly, wondering if the explosions would ever cease… they just kept coming and coming…
In the same handful of moments, Aziraphale sullied the black bedspread beneath him with streams of thick white fluid, spurting out of him like a geyser. He growled the demon's name deeply, as he, too, came and came.
Panting, uttering phrases of disbelief, sweating, laughing a bit, they did not move, but rather, just held onto each other for a long few minutes.
Aziraphale said, "All I want to do is sink into sleep, right here, pressed to you, my body sated, and still buzzing a bit."
"What's stopping you?" Crowley asked, speech slurred.
Aziraphale craned his neck again, looking back to find the eyes of his companion. "If I close my eyes and lose consciousness, I know I'll never see you again."
"Well, maybe that's okay. Because what's left for us to do, other than just to be together? To be here, entwined, and… falling."
"Nothing, I suppose."
Aziraphale snapped his fingers, and the sheets and comforter slid out from underneath them, and then enveloped them both.
Crowley leaned forward and gave him a tender kiss. Lots of them, in fact, and this was how they did finally fall into sleep. It was around eleven p.m., and they'd said everything they needed to say.
I hope you're not too saddened by this - they're literally spending the rest of their lives, seeking joy!
Now, having said that, please, please let me know your thoughts because this chapter has left me feeling a little gutted, in spite of myself. It was a massive effort... I'd love to know how you feel about it!
Thank you for reading!