Author's Note:
I'm so sorry for the delay in getting the final chapter to you. I thought I posted it but it turns out I didn't. Thank you so much for sticking with this story to the end.
It was Thursday night, and the streets were lit by lamplight.
Aziraphale and Crowley strolled by the wrought iron fence of St James' Park trying to look nonchalant and failing, casting shifty glances up and down the street.
Crowley pulled Aziraphale into the shadows and a moment later, with the help of a miracle or two, they were over the fence and dashing across the grass.
"This feels awfully wicked," Aziraphale whispered, buzzing with excitement. "Imagine if someone catches us."
With a conspiratorial grin Crowley grabbed Aziraphale's hand and led him over to the place they'd chosen earlier when they'd come for a recon. (And ice cream) A grassy spot under the trees.
Here, far from the streetlights that bordered the road and under a canopy of leaves, it was so dark that Aziraphale could barely see. It was a relief to have Crowley guiding him with his demonic night-vision, his eyes almost seeming to glow in the low light.
There were streetlights dotted all around the park, but with no humans here to need them they were all switched off. Aziraphale waved a hand and the lamppost nearest to their hiding spot brightened, bathing them in a warm glow.
They tore at each other's clothes, leaving them scattered across the grass, and then Crowley was pulling Aziraphale down on top of him. They kissed, both of them naked, a cool breeze making Aziraphale's skin prickle even though he felt hot all over.
"Is this how you imagined it?" Aziraphale asked between kisses.
"Yes, just like this. With you fucking me."
Aziraphale kissed him fiercely. "I can do that."
"And with our wings out too," Crowley admitted.
Aziraphale concentrated, rolled his shoulders, and then his wings unfurled towards the treetops, feathers fluttering in the breeze.
Crowley sat up, his eyes wide, and suddenly he was touching Aziraphale's wings, ruffling the feathers, and it felt wonderful, just like when Crowley stroked his hair. How had Aziraphale never known how good it could feel to have his wings touched? He was still learning, even now, even after all these months. Crowley was just full of wonderful ideas.
Black wings suddenly spread wide, and Aziraphale reached out to smooth the feathers. They were just as soft as they looked, and Crowley sighed, a smile on his face, clearly enjoying the touches just as much as Aziraphale had.
"Being in a garden with our wings out like this… It reminds me of Eden," Aziraphale said.
Crowley blushed. "That's kinda the point. That's how this kink began, with the fantasy of you giving me a good seeing to in the garden. Smiting me for being such a wily fiend."
"Well, you are incredibly wily, you old serpent."
Crowley grinned and then he let out a yelp as he was pushed down onto his back, his wings pinned beneath him. Aziraphale pulled Crowley's legs into the air, and his mouth found its way between his legs. He licked at his cock, and then he dipped his head lower to lap at his arsehole, enjoying the way it fluttered against his tongue. Crowley was moaning, his legs settling on Aziraphale's shoulders, his feet brushing against his wings.
Aziraphale pushed a slicked finger against his hole and watched as it sank into him. Crowley gasped and writhed on his finger, babbling words of encouragement and adoration as Aziraphale stretched him open, adding more fingers, until it was all too much and Aziraphale couldn't wait any longer. He leaned over him and pushed his cock inside with a moan, watching the way Crowley's rim stretched to take him. Crowley's hands fisted in the grass, a hiss of delirious pleasure shaken out of him.
"The first orgasm I ever had was in the garden of Eden," Crowley said, panting as Aziraphale started to rock his hips. "I didn't even know what an orgasm was back then. Oh, fuck, yes, angel. You feel so good."
Aziraphale had started to move in earnest, thrusting into that tight heat with wild abandon. It felt so exciting to be outside like this with their wings out, to have Crowley beneath him, squirming with pleasure. Their moans merged with the sound of late-night traffic, of the wind in the trees, and of skin slapping against skin.
Crowley came with a cry, spilling across his own stomach, his arsehole clenching around Aziraphale's cock. Crowley was trembling right down to the tips of his wings. Aziraphale kept slamming into him, moving faster and faster, desperately aroused by the whimpering mess Crowley had become.
Aziraphale wanted to cum inside of him, wanted to claim him, leave a part of himself behind. He didn't want to force himself to stop this time, and he didn't have to. The sudden realisation that he could give in and let himself cum, just like this, deep inside of Crowley's twitching arsehole, had him gasping with need. They only had a couple of days left anyway, so why resist? And how fitting it would be to finish their love making in a garden, in a place so like Eden, where everything had begun between them?
"Crowley, I- I want to come inside you. Is that okay?" His voice was shaking with how close he was.
Crowley's eyes widened and he gasped, still trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. "Yessss," he growled. "Do it. Cum inside me. I want it. Please, angel."
Aziraphale pushed aside the thought that this would be the last time, instead focusing on the here and now, on the fact that this was a first, something to savour, to enjoy, to memorise. There was no space for sadness, not here, not yet. This was a gift, just like every moment they'd shared so far.
It was wonderfully freeing to not have to force himself to stop, to not have to fear his impeding orgasm, to just let it happen. It took only two or three more pushes into Crowley's tight, twitching arsehole and orgasm was sweeping through him. He gasped as he pushed in deep, dizzy with the bliss of it, Crowley's legs wrapped tightly around him as though to keep him in place, as though Aziraphale had any intention of pulling out right now.
"Oh! I can feel it," Crowley said breathlessly. "Aziraphale... Angel… I can feel you coming."
Aziraphale leant forward and crushed their mouths together. Crowley was immediately kissing him back, hard and urgent, fingers digging into Aziraphale's hair before settling in his wings.
Aziraphale felt the change in himself before he saw it. The heavy thickness of the curse vanished from his aura, dissipating into nothing, and he felt it's loss so keenly that the breath caught in his throat.
Crowley was smiling at him, looking wreaked and happy. A flicker of sorrow crossed his face when Aziraphale's aura cleared, but only for a moment.
They stayed like that for a little while, clinging to each other until they started to feel the chill of the night air. Aziraphale was already going soft when he pulled out, Crowley's legs reluctantly releasing him. Aziraphale watched Crowley's pink hole twitch, saw how wet he was with his cum, and then he realised with a horrible jolt that he'd never be inside of him ever again. The reality of the situation broke through the afterglow, bringing tears to his eyes, and he hated that he was feeling sad right now when they'd just shared something so special. Maybe he should have waited. But Crowley had a wide grin on his face, and that was enough to bring Aziraphale back to the moment.
"I've gotta admit, I was kinda hoping you'd choose to break the curse that way," Crowley said with a blissful sigh. "I've always wanted to feel you cum inside me. I could feel your cock pulsing. I can still feel how full I am. I want to keep your cum inside me forever."
Aziraphale couldn't help but smile at that.
"You alright, angel?"
"Yes. I just... I'm going to miss this."
Crowley's smile faded. "Me too."
"Maybe I should have waited, had a bit more self-control." Aziraphale had pictured candles and music. They could have made it romantic, meaningful.
Crowley shrugged. "It felt right, though. And it might've looked a bit suspicious if you'd waited until a couple of hours before the meeting on Sunday. We might have ended up having sex just because we had to rather than because we were properly into it, you know? Like break up sex or something."
"Yes, I suppose you're right," Aziraphale said. "I love you."
Crowley beamed. "I love you."
Their lips met, and Aziraphale realised that they might have to give up kissing as well. Would a French kiss set off alarm bells in Heaven? Could he get away with a peck on the cheek? He kissed Crowley fiercely while he could, desperately, remembering the taste of him, the feel of his tongue.
They got dressed, snuck out of the park and made their way back to the Bentley.
"I suppose I should go back to the bookshop," said Aziraphale as he fastened his safety belt. "Or to Heaven. They'll expect me to be eager to return, I suppose."
Crowley didn't even tease him for his obvious reluctance.
"Would you help me text Sandalphon?" Aziraphale said, taking his mobile telephone from his pocket. Crowley had bought it for him for this very purpose.
"Sure," said Crowley, taking the phone. "At least we saved countless women from two more days of Sandalphon. Ugh. Actually, maybe we should've broken the curse earlier."
Crowley helped Aziraphale send a smiling face emoji to Sandalphon, and, a few minutes later, they received a winking face in return.
Crowley dropped Aziraphale off a few streets from the bookshop, just in case Sandalphon decided to visit.
As Aziraphale closed the car door and waved goodbye, his heart ached. He walked away, biting his lip to try to fight the tears that threatened to fall. He hadn't even dared kiss Crowley goodbye.
One of the things that made Crowley so powerful – though he hardly realised it – was his incredible imagination. All supernatural entities had the ability to wish things into existence and bend the world to their will, the only limit being their own imagination.
Crowley didn't need to put petrol in the Bentley, make dinner reservations, or have an actual bank account attached to his credit card. The world worked around him because he expected it to and because it wouldn't dare do otherwise.
If a supernatural being's imagination was strong enough, or if they believed in something hard enough, it became true.
Sandalphon believed with every ounce of his being that he was God's gift to women, that his cock was the best one ever, and that he was the best at sex. He believed it so hard that by some miracle, it became true.
Which was how the ladies at the Pussy Cat Strip Club found themselves having multiple orgasms from only the slightest touches, and then numerous extra orgasms for good measure. (Sandalphon wasn't sure how many orgasms were usual for ladies and figured the more the merrier.)
When he went back to only watching the ladies dance on stage, the ladies found themselves disappointed, and it wasn't just the loss of extra income.
It seemed best to wait until after Aziraphale's meeting in Heaven before seeing each other again, and it was the longest wait of Crowley's life.
On Monday, Crowley drove over to the bookshop to take Aziraphale out for lunch, just like they'd arranged over the phone a few days before.
Crowley's hands were clammy on the steering wheel the entire way there. What if things had changed between them? Obviously their relationship would be different now, but he feared Aziraphale might put up walls and draw away from him, even if only to protect himself.
When Crowley pulled up outside of the bookshop and saw that the lights were out, no angel in sight, he felt a chill run through him. He'd expected Aziraphale to be waiting eagerly on the pavement or at least pottering about in the bookshop as he usually did.
Crowley got out and knocked on the door, hoping that Aziraphale had just lost track of time and was upstairs getting ready or in the backroom. When there came no response, he knocked harder, heart in his throat. What if something has happened at the meeting? What if Aziraphale was in trouble? Or maybe recent events had affected Aziraphale far worse than Crowley had realised and Aziraphale was currently so miserable that he'd locked himself away.
Through the window, Crowley saw the lights come on in the bookshop and then there was a beige blur dashing towards the door.
Relief washed over him as the front door swung open and there stood Aziraphale, beaming at him as though he didn't have a care in the world. "Crowley! Terribly sorry, I didn't realise the time."
Crowley found himself being pulled inside, which was confusing – they were supposed to be going out.
"I need to show you something," said Aziraphale. "Come along!"
Crowley was led by the hand into the backroom, which was lit by table lamps. A barely touched cup of tea sat on the desk and looked like it had been cold for a while.
Aziraphale sat down on the sofa and pulled Crowley down next to him.
"You won't believe what I discovered!" Aziraphale said with barely contained excitement. He handed Crowley a few sheets of paper that had been stapled together. It was a list of dates with the words 'Miracle Use' written over and over, interspersed with the phrase 'Sexual Activity!' written in a stern, red font.
"It's that bloody list," Crowley said. "They left it behind?"
"Yes, but look!" Aziraphale tapped a finger impatiently at one of the dates. "This was the day after I was cursed, when we got frisky on the sofa for the first time!"
"But it doesn't say Sexual Activity on it, only miracle use. Holy shit. It doesn't say anything about sex acts until the evening of the third day! We'd already dry humped twice by then!" Crowley tried to stop the spark of hope from growing inside of him, but it was like trying to fight the tide. "Are you sure you got the dates right?"
"Yes, absolutely positive."
"But we dry humped. We both came."
"I know! It didn't flag anything upstairs!"
Crowley scanned through the pages. They'd been having sex almost every day, sometimes twice a day, morning and night. There were not enough 'sexual activities' on the list.
"Is it because we didn't get naked? So long as we're wearing clothes..."
"It's not that," Aziraphale said, and then he pointed at another day, a day which only had 'miracle use' written a couple of times. "This was the first time we tried frottage while we were both fully nude."
"Are you kidding me? Rubbing our cocks together doesn't count as sexual activity? Fuck off," Crowley stared at the list in disbelief. "Are you absolutely sure about the dates?"
"Yes. I double checked the dates." Aziraphale picked up an open journal from the table and placed it on Crowley's lap before pointing at an entry in his own neat handwriting. "I put it in my diary."
"You- Wait. What?" It was Aziraphale's red journal, Crowley realised, back to haunt him. He scan read a few of the entries. "You wrote about our sexcapades?!"
"Oh! Sexcapades! That's a good one!"
"Is it not a bit dangerous to have all of this written down?"
"I wanted a memento," Aziraphale pouted. "And it's all in code so there's no way anyone could tell it was you and me. I've not put your name anywhere and I keep it locked away with wards to protect it."
"Well, okay," said Crowley, reading a few more entries and starting to get a bit hot under the collar. He was going to have to read this properly later. In bed.
"I've compared my journal to the list from upstairs and it appears that the only things that flag as sexual activity are penetrative sex – so everything with the potential to break the curse, whether I orgasm or not. That includes tongues and fingers unfortunately."
Crowley stared at him, speechless. For the last few days he'd been under the impression that they'd never be able to so much as kiss again. Finding out that they could do that and so much more besides had him feeling lightheaded.
"So we can get away with frottage? And hand jobs?" Crowley said.
"Yes and yes," Aziraphale beamed. "And we can use toys on each other too."
Crowley grinned. Aziraphale quickly closed the gap between them, crushing their mouths together hungrily, pushing his fingers into Crowley's hair.
When Aziraphale drew back, his eyes sparkled. "How about we go upstairs?"
Crowley was on his feet in seconds, pulling Aziraphale with him. Giggling, they raced upstairs, and they took the red journal with them.
Several decades later, and Gabriel was looking through the Earth Observation Files.
Armageddon had just been averted, the traitors had survived their executions, and Aziraphale was swanning about on Earth like he owned the place. How could this situation possibly get any worse?
He just wanted to know if Aziraphale's alerts were still coming through. He was curious to know if Aziraphale had gone back to his old ways of frivolous miracle use. He wouldn't dare reprimand him, of course. He wouldn't dare upset someone capable of breathing hellfire at him. But it would be nice to be able to shake his head and tut with Michael, Uriel and Sandalphon when he showed the papers to them.
He found the papers, and, clinging to the final shred of control he had over someone who he now had absolutely no control over, he looked at the most recent page. It was an ocean of sexual activity. Face turning pink with shock and embarrassment, he put it back in the drawer and pretended he hadn't seen it.
Better not let Sandalphon know he'd given Aziraphale a taste for it.
End
Author's Notes:
I did some research and it turns out St James' park is open from 5am until midnight! Which means Crowley and Aziraphale must have arrived there very late indeed.
The Pussy Cat Strip Club isn't named after any particular place, I just wanted a generic name for it.
I was worried about those poor girls Sandalphon was going to inflict himself upon in the strip club, and I just wanted to make sure they're okay. Next thing I know he has a magic dick or something. I just wanted everyone to have a good time. If you're gonna have sex with an angel, you might as well get some divine ecstasy out of it, right?
Thank you so much for reading this story right to the end. Kudos to you! I hope you enjoyed it 3