Oh, this had mere friendship beat by miles. Why had he, of all angels, declined this particular aspect of the human nature for so long? It was absolutely lovely. Crowley was lovely. Here on the floor, taking a moment to just lie there and absorb one another, he had no sarcasm, no snark. Aziraphale had never seen him quite this open, willing, and peaceful. His yellow-gold eyes were half-closed, a lazy smile draped on his usually tense features. It made that traitorous organ trapped in Aziraphale's chest give a painful squeeze. Weak rays of sun had begun to spill into the flat, and neither one of them knew where all of that time had gone. It didn't matter anymore; time was theirs to unspool as they chose. No clock against them, no one to report to, no agenda.

Aziraphale wished it had happened sooner, wished that he hadn't been bound all these millennia by Heaven's codes, and told Crowley so as they laid in a puddle of limbs and scent. He pushed the words into the bone of his demon's shoulder, laid apologies and kisses along his collarbone with a bravery that he hadn't known he'd possessed. Crowley accepted the kisses but batted away the "sorry"s, content as a kitten and as warm as a freshly made cup of tea. His erection still strained between them, though not seeming quite as urgent as it had been with Aziraphale's hand grasped around it moments before. He shifted experimentally, loving the feel of it against his bare leg. Crowley's little sigh was his reward for this further show of courage; he dared a glance at his face and thrilled at the bliss there. He had done this to Crowley, and planned to continue doing so for as long as possible.

If Aziraphale was the sleeping type, he would have perhaps been content to curl up there, spent and warm and pleased. He had never really taken to that particular human phenomenon, however - there were far too many books in the world to be read - and anyway, Crowley's own obvious excitement was causing his to flare up once more. The angel might have been a virgin, but he was far from ignorant on the subject of sex. He'd stumbled upon all manner of...interactions… through his years on Earth, much to his chagrin. Humans really would do anything, and do it anywhere.

Now, he finally understood why. Passion, lust, the beautiful feeling of skin-on-skin and the noise of breath, was as enticing as any gourmet dish or well-crafted read. His temptations, his sins, the ever-growing list of reasons scrawled in Heaven's memo book of why he just didn't belong. To hell with that, Aziraphale thought, feeling a surge of protection toward his oldest friend. They - Heaven, Hell, or Human - would never rip them apart again.

"Dearheart?" Aziraphale started, after a long stretch of silence. At the almost comical look of confusion on Crowley's face, he quickly added, "Can I call you that?"

Crowley reddened - which had a terrible clashing effect with his hair. Aziraphale loved it.

"Call me whatever you like," he muttered. "Been hanging 'round you six thousand years, not like you can embarrass me now."

"You are both a liar and currently blushing."

"Fuck off," Crowley growled, grappling Aziraphale and flipping him so that the angel rested on top of Crowley with a surprised squeal.

Aziraphale found himself laughing from the exhilaration of the childish play, feeling as light as the sunbeams invading the flat windows. He planted a hand on either side of Crowley's chest and leaned in to kiss him, quickly getting lost in the feeling of his mouth, his eagerness. He pulled away for breath several seconds later, eyes bright. "Oh, Anthony. I am going to call you so many appalling pet names. And you will love it."

Crowley managed to blush so thoroughly that his color changed from his ear tips to his neck.

"We'll see."

With a happy little hum, Aziraphale kissed all the signs of rosiness on the demon's body, his own cock now standing at full attention. His breath had quickened without his permission, Crowley's following suit. Letting his eyes dart down to the cock he was straddling, Aziraphale watched it leak fluid onto its owner's exposed thighs. Ready, waiting, willing.

"As I was saying," he resumed shakily, letting his lips linger at Crowley's ear, "weren't we doing something?"

"Mmmmh," Crowley groaned, the sound sending little shivers down Aziraphale's spine. "Yeah, but. Only - only if you wanted to. S'why I waited."

"What a gentleman." Aziraphale let his lips roam lower, suckling that defined collarbone again, drinking in the cry that Crowley let out as if it would give him life. Something was awakening in him, something that hungered and roamed and needed. Suddenly he craved the sight of Crowley's naked body under him, all of it - and with a small but flashy hand gesture, the wish was true.

"Angel!" Crowley cried in mock outrage. "My dignity!"

Aziraphale only snorted, his brain not quite capable of firing back a witty response at the moment. Crowley's body was just as captivating as he'd remembered. The strawberry blonde trail of hair that led to his cock, the slender expanse of his chest, the damned nipple ring…

"In case you were still wondering," Aziraphale said in between kisses, placing his tongue on said nipple, "I am very interested." He let his tongue wander, mixing the taste of flesh and industry. Crowley writhed at that, making a sound that could have been a sob or a moan.

"Then let's not waste any more bloody time," came his heated voice from above Aziraphale.

In a rush, Crowley's arms wrapped around him again - flipping him back over, getting to his feet, then offering his hand in what felt like one fluid motion. Aziraphale stood, but before he could take the hand offered to him, Crowley had scooped him up bridal-style in his wiry arms - as if it had taken absolutely no strength on his part. Aziraphale found himself crying out again in surprise, biting on a wild shriek of a laugh as they thundered down the hall, almost toppling over at one point but managing to right themselves with a minor miracle. Good Lord, did he feel young.

They were both breathless with laughter by the time they got to the bedroom. Aziraphale turned the doorknob, and Crowley carried him over the threshold like they were fresh from their wedding ceremony.

"Y'know," Crowley said with a little smirk, "some humans believe that carrying their brides protects them from demons."

"Something tells me that there's not any truth in that expression." He was lowered as gingerly as a god's offering, pulse quickening as he remembered the bedroom and what had occurred last time he'd set foot there. The mirror, most noticeably, was gone. Seeing how Aziraphale looked to the empty space, Crowley stammered, "I - I wanted it to just be us. Does that make sense? No distractions."

He did understand, though Crowley sometimes spoke in circles or hills around his point. More importantly, he wanted - and right this instant.

"You are a distraction," Aziraphale teased, pulling him in for another kiss. God, but his mouth was intoxicating. Crowley had forgone the chasteness of mere lips and poked his tongue into the angel's mouth, making him whimper in a way most unbecoming. It only served as encouragement for his other half; Crowley's hands went to Aziraphale's hips, creeping beneath the fabric to squeeze the skin.

"And you," he breathed, pulling back for a second to give him a very salacious once over with wide yellow eyes, "should have been naked a long time ago."

In truth, Aziraphale had very nearly forgotten that he wasn't. All of this newness was so distracting that clothes were really the last thing on his mind. He held up his hand to wave them away, not wanting to concentrate hard enough to do it the human way, but Crowley caught his wrist gently.

"Can I?" he asked, almost a whisper.

The answering nod set Crowley to work. Aziraphale held utterly still as Crowley undid his vest buttons, noting the subtle tremble of his fingers. He said nothing, almost fearing that it would scare the demon away - and this beautiful new reality with him. Instead, he merely watched, trying to project as much warmth and reassurance as he could into the air; Crowley suddenly felt quite nervous. With all the buttons undone and the vest removed, Crowley placed a hand on his chest over the button-down top, eyes dilated significantly. Aziraphale wondered if this was a… pointed interest of Crowley's, undressing him in this way.

Crowley's eyes moved to his neck, an unformed question on his slightly parted lips. It was funny to see the gears turning in his poor mind - Bow tie? How to bow tie?

"Here, petal," Aziraphale said, beaming because he couldn't help it. "Let me help you. Just take either end of the bow, and - there! See?" Like a magic act, the kind Crowley detested, the bowtie hung loose and open around his neck. Crowley said nothing - in fact, he didn't move a single muscle for at least twenty seconds. His very presence froze and stopped.

"Dear? Crowley, what's -" That was all he had time to say before Crowley sprang back into action, making up for his seconds of stillness. Placing one hand on either side of Aziraphale's collar, the demon ripped the button-down right off his shoulders, eyes drinking in every inch of bare flesh as it appeared. The bow tie slithered to the ground like a frightened garden snake, the tatters of the shirt flopped uselessly on his arms. Aziraphale was too shocked to be properly cross; and frankly, there just wasn't time. Crowley was busy placing those shirt-slaying hands on his ass, lifting him - Aziraphale placed his legs 'round Crowley's waist, following some long-sleeping human instinct. In a weightless moment that felt like flight, he was walked backward a step and then dropped on the bed, Crowley looming over him like a predator. Aziraphale was hyper aware of the placement of Crowley's cock - resting in the cleft of him as if of its own accord.

"Aziraphale," Crowley hissed out, his voice low and roughened with need, "You - are so - goddamn gorgeous."

Aziraphale made some sort of indecent sound that didn't really count as language. His mind was full of the thought of Crowley, his dick, so close to a place he had quite secretly wanted it. His own appendage was ramrod straight, brushing Crowley's chest and moistening it with anticipating drops. Noticing the angel's situation, Crowley lowered his mouth to it, breath as hot as sin. Aziraphale squirmed and bucked for it, already knowing the joys of that clever tongue beyond, but not expecting how it would feel.

It was worship, delight, agony, and the lightning hot strike of pleasure that would soon be too strong to stop. The sucking, hot, wetness of what Crowley was doing to him would be bad enough, but his tongue was darting, caressing, rubbing - it had him incoherent.

"Crowley, oh my God, please -" What he was asking for, he wasn't sure. He was reaching for Crowley, wanting as much contact as possible. "Crowley, Crowley, that's amazing I - please -!" Orgasm was building deep in the cradle of his hips, and he bucked in earnest, tears of effort gathering in the corners of his eyes. His body had never wanted something as much as this. Unbidden, one wing and then the other unfurled from their hiding place just below his shoulder blades - he hadn't the mental concentration to hide them away anymore - and with just Crowley it didn't matter. The demon watched them peek out from under Aziraphale, clearly surprised, smiling around the cock in his mouth. He disconnected from the thing with a lewd pop, and Aziraphale could have wept at the sheer frustration.

"Getting comfortable, are we?" He asked, his expression a mockery of innocence. He reached out to brush a few of Aziraphale's secondaries with his fingertips, and the angel let out a low whine.

"Crowley," he began, eyes wide and pleading.

"What, no more pet names?" He was enjoying this far too much, the downright evil bastard.

"You tosser," Aziraphale huffed out.

"Oh-ho!" Crowley's eyebrows shot into his hairline. "What a fiesty angel I hath tempted."

"Anthony, if you don't fuck me right this instant -" He felt his face flush almost painfully; he'd never meant to say that, not in that manner - but God Herself, his need.

Crowley pulled back, staring at him a bit slack-mouthed, as if they had never met. Aziraphale wondered if he'd said the wrong thing, if this was the moment where they put on all of their clothes and pretended none of this had ever happened.

"Well. Alrighty then." Swallowing audibly, Crowley plucked something out of the air that he didn't quite recognize at first - a small bottle with a flip cap, clear liquid and something written on the label that could only mean - oh. It was a lubricant. Oh.

Just as quickly as it had appeared, Crowley's bravado had vanished, a wave gone from the shore of him. He could be like that, Aziraphale knew, one second feeling one thing quite strongly and the next another. He had long grown used to it, grown a patience for it. It was just the way he was, and now Aziraphale felt tentatively out for the next thing his new love was overcome by. Though not as terrible as last night's sheer and utter panic, Aziraphale still had to take a breath as he moved away from this new set of emotions. There was concern there, muddled with anxiety, fear of rejection, the surging want, the desire to be enough. A surprising amount of dark for the situation, Aziraphale surmised.

Gentle as God's first breath of wind, the angel laid his hand upon Crowley's cheek. "Listen. This will be amazing."

Crowley bit his lip and looked away, shy but grateful for the words. "So invasive, y'know. Could've just asked me how I felt." He kissed Aziraphale's hand, nibbling the pinkie ring. Aziraphale melted at how soft he looked, all the sharp lines of his face subdued with affection.

"You wouldn't have answered honestly." Aziraphale smiled, leaning back again so that he was mostly flat on the mattress. "Now, dearheart, erm. Make love to me?"

Crowley looked at him with reverence. "Of course, angel."

He fumbled for the bottle, disappeared somewhere in the sheets, and in this moment Aziraphale felt the need to say what he was sure was already known. "I've never, er, done this particular...thing," he finished lamely. Thankfully, Crowley didn't tease him for it. He only placed a hand on each of the angel's thighs, urging them into the air. "Then I'll teach you everything," was his simple reply.

Aziraphale throbbed in excitement. Everything. He let his legs fall open, more than eager to be the student. The top of the bottle was clicked open, its contents squeezed into Crowley's hand. He worked the slick substance onto his fingers, and in an instant Aziraphale knew exactly what he meant to do. Eyes on his angel's the whole time, Crowley let the hand travel slowly, so slowly, up his thigh, past his cock, eventually settling directly over his exposed hole. Aziraphale shivered, wings dangling haphazardly over the edge of the bed. "Will it hurt?" he blurted out, timid.

Crowley kissed the inside of his knee. "Angel. It'll be as slow as you need, got it? I'd never hurt you."

The angel nodded, trusted. After a beat, Crowley continued. One finger laid on the pucker of him, slick as anything and tracing the rim in slow circles. "Oh-" he gasped, unable to help it. The sensitivity was unlike anything he'd known. Crowley cocked his head and paused, asking without asking. "Keep going, please," he implored, far from done with this. His eyes threatened to slide closed, overwhelmed with the sensations.

In one slow, unyielding motion, Crowley had pushed the finger inside him. Aziraphale lurched back, unprepared for the invasiveness of it, the burning stretch - but Crowley's unusually gentle hand on his thigh and his delay let the angel know that this was fine, normal, it was all okay.

"Just try and relax," Crowley advised in a murmur. "I know, it's a bit weird at first." Aziraphale did just as he'd asked, exhaling slowly, letting his demon explore him. The digit continued to press further inside him, until it had disappeared entirely. Crowley was moving it in the smallest of crooking motions, forcing small sounds out of Aziraphale that could have been pleasure, pain, or both.

"I've got you, angel, easy," Crowley's breath was a hiss, equally committed to stretching and reassuring him at once. "Ready for another?"

Aziraphale paused, evaluated. He could feel his fucking pulse around Crowley, but it no longer burned. The sensation of something inside him, Crowley inside him, was something he wanted more of. So he nodded at the question, ready for more firsts with this extraordinary man. The next finger slipped up against the first, making a kind of widening, scissoring motion that made Aziraphale's legs tremble. Crowley worked them in and out of his body, a mockery of what they'd soon begin. Aziraphale found his hands clenching in the sheets at the feeling of being filled, used, pleasured. His breath was coming in shallow pants, cock twitching as Crowley's fingers danced and rubbed something inside of him, all the while moving at a snail's pace. He was about to discorporate from the agony of it.

"Crowley," he interrupted at the sight of him attempting to slide a third finger inside. "I - that is, if you're ready, I'm - can we move on?"

"Impatient?" Crowley smiled, the flash of his teeth destroying any chance of his expression's innocence.

With a growl that surprised even him, Aziraphale reached for Crowley's dick and aligned it with himself. "Inside of me, Crowley."

Crowley licked his lips, pushing just slightly into Aziraphale so that his cock head disappeared. "Yes, sir."

And then, in one agonizing push, Crowley's cock hugged tight within his body's warmth. Aziraphale didn't realize he was biting the skin between his thumb and finger until Crowley attempted to pull the hand from his teeth; eyes all concern and worry.

"Is it too much? Aziraphale?"

"For God's sake, you complete - harder," Aziraphale insisted, half insistent on his needs and half focused on letting Crowley know how ridiculous he was being. He wasn't fragile, just...soft.

The command made Crowley cry out in need, his hands braced on the angel's waist as he eased in to the hilt. He sat there for a moment - Aziraphale made a wonderful picture, all spread open and red-faced, after all - then withdrew almost fully. The air between them was static as he hesitated, then thrust deep into his angel once more. Aziraphale moaned in full voice, almost fearing that he would be heard by Crowley's neighbors. His wings flapped helplessly beneath him, and the shattering of a nearby lamp phased neither of them. His hands reached out for Crowley's, fingers intertwining, and the tender gesture seemed to encourage him.

He could tell that Crowley couldn't do this for very long. His eyes had gone all unfocused, a small string of expletives flowing from his forked tongue as if he couldn't help them. Aziraphale's own orgasm was just budding in his hips when Crowley threw his head back, thrusts growing shallow and desperate. His once tender hands were grasping Aziraphale as if he was the only thing connecting him to the planet.

"Angel," he panted. "Angel, I'm so fucking close."

Forgetting his own pleasure - because how the hell could he ignore Crowley's? - Aziraphale purred in the most velvety of voices, "Then by all means, dove. Come inside me."

This is all it takes. With a strangled shout and a final thrust, Crowley spends himself. Aziraphale kisses him through it, leaning forward with some effort. The warmth of Crowley spills out of him, overfilling him, and he shudders at the filthy satisfaction of it.

"Jesus," Crowley sighs, a sheen of sweat broken out on his forehead. Aziraphale sees, with some glee, that he too has forgone the need to hide his wings away - they slump on either side of the demon's skinny torso, so black that the feathers shone iridescent green. He reached out to touch one, much in the way that Crowley himself did. It had been thousands of years since they'd had them out casually.

"Does that mean you enjoyed yourself?" Aziraphale's eyes gleam with something that borders on wickedness. He feels Crowley ease out of him, soft, with an indecent squelch.

"Probably." Crowley reaches out to embrace him, and Aziraphale could never say no to that. "M'sorry. That - that wasn't much. I -"

Aziraphale shushes him. "It was perfect, you ridiculous thing." He patted the bed beside him.

"Let's just lay here a moment. We have ages and ages, after all."

"And ages," Crowley added with a sigh, a little smile quirking up his mouth. Dismounting Aziraphale, he curled up tight into his angel's side, and together they stayed.