They hadn't been intimate with each other that often before they got invited to Newt and Anathema's wedding. They were still learning how to pleasure one another, and how to be a proper couple around it all. Due to their friendships with the bride and groom, Aziraphale was asked to be Newt's best man, and Crowley to be Anathema's maid of honor. Somehow, amongst all the stress of their jobs, tensions rose for many different reasons. One verbal scuffle in the Bentley from the South Downs to the Ritz for the weekend, and suddenly they were colder than they ever had been in 6,001 years.
The morning of the wedding came, and the ceremony went off without a hitch or at least any hitches had been in Aziraphale's breath at seeing Crowley in a strapless ivy green dress with a thigh high slit showing off his long legs with gold heels that had snakes coiling up the calf. Crowley, likewise, had his breath hitch at seeing the angel out of beige and tartan. Seeing the navy blue suit with a green tie that matched his dress, it only made his white hair stand out more like a halo, made Crowley's brain malfunction.
Aziraphale took Crowley's hand gingerly with an old fashioned bow and kiss to his knuckles, "You look stunning my dear."
"Likewise Aziraphale." They both blushed, but Aziraphale knew that not being called 'Angel' meant things weren't even close to over for them both today
Crowley spent the duration of the reception talking to others or just trying to stay out of the angel's space, but he kept following to the next conversation or the next trip to the bar.
Finally, Crowley's bicep was in one soft, wide hand, and Aziraphale's mouth close enough to his ear to tickle, "Please talk to me or let me make this up to you somehow."
Crowley hatched a small plan with an invisible smirk before meeting those blue eyes steadily, "Upstairs then. Now."
They made it to the room and while Crowley took off the jewelry, and high heels, Aziraphale already had his jacket off and was sitting to take off his shoes. He turned and saw Crowley sitting down in a chair by the window, facing him with a clipboard in hand.
"Aren't you going to take off your clothes?" he mused as he got to his socks.
Crowley's fingers drummed on the clipboard, "No."
The angel paused and sat up, "Because?"
"I don't want to." He said with a shrug
"So then what do we…" Aziraphale gestured around vaguely
Crowley was succeeding in keeping his face expressionless, even if he wanted to grin maniacally, "I want you to strip." There was such an air of nonchalance, that the angel swore he miss heard.
The angel chuckled until he realized that Crowley was keeping that cool expression, his eyebrows raised up as he realized that this was real. His laughter fell as he rose to his feet and undid the tie. He kept his eyes on the gold ones across from him and he emphatically sorted the buttons on his button up, and only broke the eye contact to take the undershirt off. The only sounds so far were the whispers of fabric, and a tension so high, if broken it would shatter like glass. Aziraphale kept his gaze cold as he sat on the bed to undo his trousers, but before he could even touch the button.
" No, stand." Crowley's voice stayed clipped and cold as he watched Aziraphale with intense interest
Aziraphale pushed to his feet again, the annoyance he felt becoming a tad more prominent in his eyes
"Then you're going to touch yourself." Crowley added, and Aziraphale once more raised his eyebrows in surprise
Once fully bared for the demon, Crowley picked up a stopwatch and as if it was some kind of sport said as clearly as ever, " And begin."
As the ticking took over the sounds in the room, Aziraphale started stroking himself while looking Crowley up and down. His head felt heavy and he imagined it was Crowley's hand as it had been before, he didn't even realize his eyes had closed until Crowley clicked his pen and spoke, "You've closed your eyes, is that standard behavior for you?" he made this sound like a science experiment instead of resolving their argument
He had to clear his throat as his breath picked up," I believe it is."
Crowley was writing on paper, in truth he just made a squiggle to see how it effected the angel, "Is it to facilitate fantasy?" His gold eyes more curious, at how this was effecting himself as well as his angel
Another hitch in his breath, "Well, It's an automatic reflex not a conscious process, but yes I suppose so." His strokes picked up a bit
"And what are you thinking about?"
Slowly, Aziraphale was able to open his eyes again, and the amount of love, and desire would've knocked Crowley into the chair had he been standing, "You."
Crowley sharply drew a breath, and fumbled to stop the stopwatch, "Quit touching yourself."
"My dear, I haven't yet, please let me just…"
"Stop." He said firmly, and a small groan fell from the angel as he complied, "Come here."
Aziraphale took the two steps that divided them and rose to cup Crowley's face in between his hands. As he leaned in to kiss him, Crowley took a hold of Aziraphale's wrists and guided them down to his hips. When he moved one hand onto the angel's shoulder, the pieces seemed to have clicked as he moved to kneel as instructed. He toyed with garter clips he hadn't known were beneath the dress, and Crowley spoke one more time, "Take them off."
As the stockings and lace panties hit the floor, Aziraphale moved the dress apart farther at the top of the slit. He found a different Effort present than they were used to using, but the fold were already pink and shiny. He let his nose brush the front of the mound, and the light copper curls tickle his nose, as he leaned further to kiss and lick into his beloved. He heard Crowley's breath stuttering above him, and he moaned into the next lick.
Crowley's fingers were bracing him on Aziraphale's shoulders as he moaned and shuddered, "Oh angel, oh yes." His voice sounded reverent, and he lulled his head back at the next moan below him.
Aziraphale found Crowley's clit, and started focusing his lips there as one hand trailed up his legs to the folds in front of him. Crowley's fingernails bit into him sharply, " 'Zira, please I need you." His hands carded into the cotton curls, and pulled him back up, "Please, my love."
"As much as I do love this dress on you dear," he reached around and found the zipper, and kissed Crowley's shoulder, "I think it'll look even better on the floor."
'I love you' s and apologies were traded, and whenever they were asked, and/ or teased about where they disappeared to that night, They would just smile at each other and just remember the best 'first' they had had yet.
