Wings 2

Crowley! Crowley!

Aziraphale is shaking him. He caresses Crowley's face, chest, and shoulders with hands as soft as cold compresses, then clutches him to his chest and holds him as tightly as he can.

Don't breathe, Crowley. Stop breathing. Stop breathing.

Crowley's panting subsides into ragged gasps as he struggles to control himself. Finally his panic ceases.

God damn it!

Radiating rage and humiliation like a furnace, Crowley wrenches himself free of Aziraphale's arms and turns away. Celestial bodies can't shed tears, but they can cry, and Aziraphale breaks down. Crowley hears the angel's sob, and turns back to him in alarm. His anger evaporates into shame that he's wounded Aziraphale. He hugs the angel to his chest as one would comfort a child, arms around the angel's head and shoulders.

Aziraphale! Forgive me. Please. Please. Don't cry. Don't breathe.

Aziraphale's shoulders stop shaking as he stops breathing. He's about to say, "No need for forgiveness, I love you, Crowley" . . . but pauses and considers that that's not what the demon needs – wants - to hear.

I forgive you.

Then he has an inspiration. Gently pushing himself away from Crowley, he raises himself on an elbow, reaches out and caresses Crowley's face with a featherlike touch . . . over his forehead, down his cheek . . . and then pulls Crowley's head towards him and plants a soft kiss on the demon's forehead. Breathes a puff of air into his face.

Think about whatever it is you like best.

Stress drains from Crowley as water from a sieve, and his face relaxes into a smile.

It worked! Well, I'll be damned!

Well I'm blessed. (Oh, the irony.)

They gaze lovingly at one another.

You know, Aziraphale, that deep down inside, you really are one crafty bastard.

Aziraphale's smile is as broad as a barn. Crowley muses a moment.

Do you know what I like best?

Crowley, you really don't need to te- . . .

Having sex with you.

Crowley shifts away a bit and spread eagles himself.

Do me, Aziraphale.

The angel shifts himself down the bed and kneels between Crowley's legs. Flaring his wings to give him a bit of lift as he proceeds, he moves his hands upward along the inside of the demon's thighs, across loins and flanks, caressing Crowley's nipples until they're just as erect as their mutual cocks. Now floating nearly prone atop Crowley, he shifts his hips until he feels Crowley's supple penis spiral around his. Moves a bit from side to side to let his chest fuzz tickle Crowley. Pushes his cool hands outward along the demon's shoulders and outstretched arms. They interlock their fingers. Aziraphale has just enough time to place a passionate kiss upon Crowley's already open mouth before Divine Ecstasy consumes them. An observer might think them frozen in time, but the angel's snowy wings continue to move as imperceptibly as a clock's hands, keeping him lightly afloat above his demon lover for the remaining hours of the night and well past dawn.