[Continuation of The Big One, Chapter 58: Fallen]

London. The lounge of Crowley's Mayfair flat. Aziraphale is hugging Crowley tightly as the demon recovers from yet another little episode of fury and despair. He snaps his fingers, and their clothing transforms into their dressing gowns – Crowley's dark Escher snakes print with the ruby silk lining, Aziraphale's lavender tartan with the golden silk velvet lining and the twisted gold silk cord that Crowley finds so strangely erotic.

Crowley. Let's go to bed and cuddle for awhile.

Crowley looks unhappy. Aziraphale takes the demon's hand, puts an arm around his waist, and steers him toward the bedroom.

Come on, my pet.

An amused smile creeps onto Crowley's lips as he gives Aziraphale some side eye. Once they've climbed aboard the bed, sitting propped against giant pillows, he throws himself across Aziraphale's lap, his head on the angel's shoulder. Aziraphale embraces him and strokes the demon's velvety fade, runs fingers through his quiff.

I do so like your new haircut.

And I like being petted by you.

Some very gentle and pleasurable time passes. Then Aziraphale pushes Crowley's robe off his shoulders. Crowley sits up and does the same for Aziraphale, noting yet again the fascination that golden cord around the angel's waist holds for him. The angel hugs Crowley and caresses his back.

You're so deliciously warm.

And you're so chill and soothing.

Made for each other.

Mmmmmm . . .

More gentle and pleasurable time passes. Then . . .

Kiss me, Aziraphale.

Aziraphale gently pushes Crowley backward toward the foot of the bed, then crouches alongside him. Runs his hands up the demon's flanks and chest, then leans over and kisses Crowley as if the demon were made of ambrosia and he was starving. Repositions himself between Crowley's legs. Crowley reaches up and undoes the cord to Aziraphale's robe, enjoying the angel's nakedness revealed as Aziraphale shrugs the robe aside. The angel pushes the demon's knees up and apart. Firm cool hands massage the demon's groin and balls, fingers gently rubbing Crowley's penis in places that Aziraphale has learned he finds especially pleasurable. The demon's eyes close and his head falls back, mouth open, arms limp at his side.

Crowley is soon stiff as a pole and making little noises.

Angel. Please.

Penis or pussy, Crowley?

P'nisssss . . .

Aziraphale lies atop Crowley so their erections pair, levitating himself a bit. Crowley's serpentine penis twists around the angel's. Aziraphale whispers in the demon's ear:

I love you, Crowley.

The demon's back arches, legs raise and feet twist together behind Aziraphale's back. Crowley cries out and his toes curl as he releases into Divine Ecstasy. Aziraphale's body goes rigid as he, too, succumbs.


Hours later. The pair have come to and are once again in their robes, sitting propped up on the pillows.

Angel, how about some champagne?

Aziraphale smiles sinfully.

Always a delight at any occasion.

Crowley stretches, then wanders out to return with an open bottle of Cristal and two glasses. He carefully pours each of them a full glass, and offers a toast:

Heaven won't have me, and Hell's afraid I'll take over.

Aziraphale laughs and spills a bit of champagne.

Whoops.

A flick of magic mops up the spill.

Bollocks to Heaven.

They clink glasses and companionably work their way through the bottle.

And now for dessert.

Crowley pulls Aziraphale's robe open, picks up an end of the golden cord and dangles the tassel, tickling the angel's giblets. Waves his hand, and the empty bottle and glasses are back on a kitchen counter. Shrugs off his robe as Aziraphale does likewise, Crowley staying the angel's hand as he goes to release the cord.

Allow me. 'S like opening a present.

Crowley pulls the half knot out of the cord, gazes lovingly upon Aziraphale.

Mmmmmm . . . Such a beautiful body.

He strokes Aziraphale's chest, then writhes around until his head is upon the angel's thighs. Caresses Aziraphale's belly and platinum bush, runs a firm warm hand around his groin, balls, and penis. The angel sighs with pleasure. Rolls onto his side, grasping Crowley's backside as he slips the demon's erection into his mouth. Crowley does likewise for him. They levitate a bit so heads, arms, and legs lock together comfortably. Crowley's too long to fit entirely without doing an imitation of an esophageal probe, so Aziraphale has learned some tickles for the demon's root and surrounding territory. He flares one wing and brushes Crowley with the feather tips. With practiced ease, they release one another into Divine Ecstasy.


Early morning.

Angel, I have to make a short business visit. Then we'll head back to Tadfield.

I did promise to open the bookshop by noon. Humans are so importunate.

What, you're selling drugs now?

Tch. Really, my dear. What an idea. No, the children are on holiday, and they like to congregate in the shop.

Well then, an opportunity to introduce Eric to them. He's coming back with us.

Any chance you could pick up some chocolates, Crowley?

I'll bet you'd like a fruitcake, too.

Well, yes, now that you mention it. It is that time of year, after all. I'll pick up some brandy from that importer a few blocks over. We're nearly out.

Take Eric with you.

Crowley goes off looking sharp in his latest Mafioso suit. Aziraphale dons his kendo uniform and works on his stances and parries, then dresses and goes on the brandy expedition with Eric. He treats the disposable demon to a cappuccino and a Cornish pasty as the nearby café. They return just as Crowley pulls up in the Bentley. He parks illegally and gets out.

Anything inside you need to bring?

No. We're all set to go.

Hop in then.