Okay - here we go with the true smut. As always with these two, there's always more at stake than just sex - I like to think it's more emotional than carnal (though, it's plenty carnal).

Enjoy!

SHOWERING WITH AFFECTION

Crowley lay upon the bed, thinking of the thing that could make his cock harder than anything: Aziraphale. Who happened to be in the adjacent room, using the loo. He fondled himself, expecting to be caught at any moment.

He heard the toilet flush. Then he heard, "Crowley?"

"Yes, angel?" sang the randy ginger.

"I feel odd," said Aziraphale from the bathroom.

"Odd how?"

Aziraphale stepped out into the bedroom, wearing a black and red Chinese robe that belonged to Crowley, but which Aziraphale had appropriated a few days earlier, and had worn quite a bit, during their otherwise naked moments.

"I feel… I don't know," Aziraphale complained, with an uneasy look on his face. "Sticky. Unclean. And I believe my body is beginning to give off an odour of some sort."

"Oh," Crowley lilted, sitting up. "You can't just will yourself clean and fresh anymore, just like I can't maintain my figure just by wanting it. You probably just need a shower."

"Really?" Aziraphale asked, distastefully.

"Yes, angel. Oh, don't look like that – you'll love it."

"I will?"

Crowley stood up and crossed the room to his companion, who watched him with lusty interest as the lean, lithe creature was not only gorgeously nude, but also sporting a massive erection.

"Mm," Crowley confirmed. "It's one of those… you know, things I love. One of the Earthly pleasures."

"Eartly pleasures?"

Crowley got very close and said, softly, "Yes. You know, creature comforts. Like you and your books. Like that Victorian tailcoat you've owned since… Victoria."

"Ah. Creature comforts."

"Mm. It's something that humans do because they have to, but also a little because it feels good, and I've grown quite fond of it."

"Bathing?"

"Yeah, but it's not just about bathing," Crowley explained, running his hands over the other man's chest, and the silk robe adorning his skin. "It's about the warm water on your body. It's about the steam around you, the white noise, the water pressure. If you do it right, you can feel isolated from the whole world for a bit, and it can be glorious."

"Don't you enjoy sleep for some of the same reasons?"

Crowley smirked, taking Aziraphale's hands. "I do. You love food, and I've always loved sleep – those are our front-running creature comforts, the ones we've shared with one another thus far. But a hot shower is not to be underestimated. I've taken them throughout… well, since the advent of indoor plumbing. They're relaxing, and refreshing. A good, hot shower is a full-service sensory experience."

Aziraphale was looking at him with wide eyes, and contemplating what he was saying. "Extraordinary! Well, I suppose I now haven't any choice but to experience one of your favourite creature comforts for myself."

"I suppose you haven't."

"What do I do first?"

"First? Take off that robe."

"And then what?" Aziraphale asked.

"Turn on the water, and find a temperature to your liking," Crowley told him. "Personally, I like to get it as hot as I can, just before it hurts. Something tells me that neither one of us could now tolerate the heat I used to enjoy…"

"Then what?"

Crowley said, "You really need me to tell you? Angel, it's really not that difficult to suss out."

Aziraphale looked down at the stiff piece of flesh jutting out from his companion's body.

"Nevertheless, Crowley, I think you'd better show me, since you have so much experience."

Crowley smiled. "Yeah, I think you're right – the shower is much too dangerous a place for you to venture in the first time on your own."

This was answered with a giggle, as the naked, slightly taller fellow led his partner into the bathroom and shut the door.

Crowley untied the robe, and pushed it over Aziraphale's shoulders, and let it fall to the floor. Now, they were both quite naked, and both quite aroused. Crowley led the way into the slate-coloured shower, and turned on the water, which fell straight down from a nozzle parallel to the floor. He adjusted the temperature to something warm and pleasant, and stepped under the stream, bringing Aziraphale with him.

Then Crowley turned on a second stream of water just opposite. The flat had come with a shower for two, though this was the first time two had ever used it. The second showerhead quickly matched the temperature of the first, and Crowley positioned Aziraphale under one of them.

"Lean your head back, angel," he said, his voice echoing in the space, but also getting lost in the sound of rushing water. "Let the water immerse your head and face." He bent a bit, and began to kiss the underside of Aziraphale's chin, moving down to his neck, and the latter tilted his head back in response, and moaned as the sensations washed over him – warm water, and Crowley's mouth.

Crowley curled his arms round back and embraced him, as he worked his lips and tongue all the way over his companion's neck and shoulders, biting, licking, nipping. The fronts of their bodies pressed together, especially the two stiff, eager phalluses, which now rubbed against each other. They couldn't help but writhe a bit in one another's thrall, arousal rising deliciously. Aziraphale continued to moan, realising that Crowley had been right about the full-service sensory experience of the shower. Though, he was also aware that not all showers came with a former demon, ready to give the showering human a bout of unholy bliss.

"The shower has another added convenience," Crowley said.

"Oh yes?"

"Mm-hm." With that little growl, he reached for a bar of soap, and lathered his hand. He positioned the two of them so as to shield the hand and its intended target from both streams of water, and he grasped Aziraphale's distended member, and began to stroke. The smoothness, the silken, drunken feeling of his lover's hand slipping back and forth caused Aziraphale to curse without compunction, and his eyes practically rolled back in his head.

"Fuck, that feels magnificent," he groaned.

"And this is just the warm-up."

"I'm warm," Aziraphale warned.

"Good," Crowley said. "Me too."

"What are we warming up to?"

"As I said, the shower has an added advantage. It is a place where soap can be used liberally, whilst one is naked, and warm, and wet."

"Indeed."

"It's easy to get slippery. Things slide better in the shower, do you see?" Crowley asked him, still stroking his dick, still nipping at his neck. "Any insistent back-and-forth action might be accomplished much more easily, with less prohibitive friction, and less mess."

"I do see."

"So I'm seizing a teachable moment."

"I'm teachable. I've never been as bloody teachable as I am right now," Aziraphale breathed.

Suddenly, Crowley put the bar of soap in his hand. "That's the spirit, angel." And he turned around and faced the wall, placing his hands on the tile, bending his torso forward ever so slightly. "Do you know what to do with that?"

Aziraphale allowed his eyes to rove hungrily over Crowley's wet, taut body, especially the apple-like bum cheeks now pointed at him, and he almost came, on the spot. He couldn't believe his incredible luck, to be loved and lusted-after by a being this gorgeous, this tempting. To be gifted with glimpses – full-on panoramic views – of this well-tended corporeal form in all its glory was one very arousing thing. But now, if he wasn't mistaken, he was now being asked to penetrate it, for their mutual pleasure, with his hard, wanting shaft, and that was quite another thing! Arousing wasn't even the word for it… in fact, how would he survive the next few minutes of anticipation, without climaxing too early, and ruining everything?

Crowley felt the hesitation. In fact, Aziraphale hesitated long enough that he wondered whether he'd come on too strongly, or assumed too much about his partner's burgeoning sexual instincts. But, just as he was about to turn and ask if anything was wrong, he felt a strong, purposeful hand cupping his left cheek, and squeezing with abandon. He leaned into Aziraphale's touch, bent a bit deeper and gave him a bit more flesh to grip.

Then, something smooth and slippery slid from top to bottom between his buttocks, and it felt divine. Well, it would, wouldn't it? He moaned, "That's it, angel, you've got this."

He moaned again as the soap made another pass, and then another.

And then, two soapy hands kneaded his bum briefly, just before the side of a slick few digits worked its way into the crevice, and Aziraphale asked, "Is this good?"

"Oh, very good," Crowley answered, his voice low, speech slurred. "Very, very good."

The tips of two finger found Crowley's rear opening, and played there for a few moments, massaging, teasing, while the other hand continued to knead the tight cheek beside it.

Crowley continued to moan – he could not stop. The anticipation was wicked.

"Shall I put my fingers inside you, Crowley?"

"Fuck, yes," Crowley replied, slowly, clearly.

And then he felt two heavenly fingers pop into his puckered hole, and begin to work back and forth. He groaned deeply, and bent his body even further forward, and pushed his feet a bit more; apart to give access. Those two fingers, in this simple act, almost made him lose his load right then, such was the power of Aziraphale's fingers, any part of that body penetrating his. It made him buzz all over, and want to pull on his dick until he had nothing left, but he forced himself to stay in-check. The best was yet to come (literally).

"I need more," he demanded.

"All right," Aziraphale said, pulling his fingers free. And when Crowley felt his back door being pried open again, it was with three fingers. It had been seventy-eight years since anything had entered him this way, and he was tight and sensitive. He let a crackling groan loose into the tiled room, and it echoed loudly.

Aziraphale finger-fucked him. He began slowly, then picked up the pace, asking, "How does that feel, my love?"

"So fucking good," Crowley slurred back, trying desperately to keep himself under control.

"Are you quite ready for me to enter you?" Aziraphale asked, primly, withdrawing his slippery fingers. Somehow his pinched, proper tone made the whole thing even more wanton.

"I'm so ready, I'm scared I'm going to fuck the whole thing up!"

"Me too."

For good measure, Aziraphale passed the soap through between the primed buttocks two more times. Crowley cursed, half at the delicious sensation, and half at the aggravating delay.

And Crowley shivered as he felt the unmistakable probing of the mushroomed head of a rock-hard cock, right there, opening his hole just so.

"Oh, fuck!" he said, teeth gritted, resisting the urge to jerk backwards and fill himself already. The compulsion was so strong he bit his lip, and told himself that within moments, in his angel's own time, his arse cheeks would be pressed against Aziraphale's hips, and he'd be full to the brim, of throbbing, aching, twitching dick. There was no need to rush…

Aziraphale's melodious groan filled the hot shower as he wrapped his hands around the slim hips in front of him, and slowly eased in his rigid member. He wanted to make the moments last, but he, too, was eager to shove forward and begin fucking this absolutely exquisite being…

But he went slowly, and within a few moments, he was, indeed, buried all the way to the hilt inside the former demon Crowley.

"Angel, you feel so good in me…"

"You feel so good, too…" whimpered Aziraphale. "I can't hold back anymore, Crowley.

And with those words, he stopped holding back, and began to thrust. Hard. And fast. He found a rhythm that worked, and settled into it… over and over and over again, he thrust in, then pulled back, and it was devilishly good. Well, it would be, wouldn't it?

He had never done this before, but his body, he found, learned quickly. This was what it wanted. This was what it was all about. This, this, this.

This was fucking.

The slap of his loins against Crowley's bum, over and over.

The groans and expletives filling the room.

The slipping and sliding of another person's body, sheathing one's erect member again and again whilst stimulation grew and grew and mounted toward a peak…

The impending release. The begging for more and never wanting it to end, but also wanting to erupt more than one has ever wanted anything ever.

The breathlessness. The tightening. The announcing!

"Crowley, I'm going to come…" Aziraphale said, almost against his own will.

"Do it, angel," Crowley barked. "Fill me up good. Do it!"

Crowley knew that Aziraphale had never performed this particular act before – thus far, in their short sexual relationship, Aziraphale had only ever been on the receiving end of this sort of business. But he had always been quick on the uptake, and now Crowley was learning that his angel fucked as well and truly as anyone he had ever met. It wasn't just that he was Aziraphale, and Crowley loved everything about him, including presumably, the way his body hungered and satisfied itself.

No, he was actually a good fuck – a natural. Amazing, in fact. Aziraphale clearly had passion and desire… but he also had strength. The angel had been a supernatural being for most of the time Crowley had known him, so he had certain celestial abilities. But the body, the corporeal form, the muscle and flesh and bone, he had always suspected, was stronger than it looked, and that was becoming apparent now, as Aziraphale handled him.

And, there was a certain selfishness to this act that was not conducive to perfect angelic sensibilities…

…but Aziraphale had always been an imperfect angel. "Just enough of a bastard," Crowley had said of him, and so the selfishness took over.

Crowley could hear his cheeks slapping against Aziraphale's pelvis as the latter pulled back on him, and he felt his arse pounded hard, dissolutely. It was beyond expectation… so bloody good… his vision blurred a bit…

"Crowley, I'm going to come…" announced his fast-moving partner.

"Do it, angel," was what came out of Crowley's mouth. "Fill me up good! Do it!"

It was his honest reaction… it was what he wanted… now…

And then he heard his angel's grunt, and the unmistakable sensation of warm, creamy come flooding his insides. "Oh, shit," Crowley groaned, having never felt anything so devastating before. The love and the sensation, all clinging together…

Almost as an afterthought, Crowley began pumping his own cock, looking for release.

Aziraphale gave his final shove, and then a big, dramatic exhale, and Crowley pulled away from him. He turned around and grabbed his companion by the back of the head and smashed his mouth in for a hard kiss, as orgasm hit him like a ton of bricks. It was tight and long, and slick white come shot all over Aziraphale's stomach and his own, though the shower quickly washed it away.

And with both bodies trembling and sated for now, they pressed together once again, let their tongues dance against each other, let falling water immerse them from head to toe, and recovered from the shock in each other's arms.

Friends, thanks for reading. I'm a bit nervous about this story - the first chapter only received ONE review, and it took DAYS for it to happen. I will lose my nerve to keep posting this story if I don't hear from you! Honestly.

Thank you again! :-)