AN: Warning - explicit oral sex lol

Chapter 15

It almost felt as if the world should have shifted after that revelation, but it didn't. At least, not on the surface of things.

Crowley found his gaze drawn to Altaira more often than not, her every move more fascinating to him than the machinations of humankind. He was like a hapless star that had ventured too near a black hole and was inexorably being drawn into a Tidal Disruption Event. At least, that was how he imagined stars might feel, if they could - a deep longing in his insides squirming uselessly every time he stopped himself from reaching out to her.

He snapped from his thoughts as Altaira nudged him, apparently having asked a question.

Crowley had not heard it, of course. As Altaira stared up at him with her sweet, tea-like eyes and smiled her sunny, lovable smile, all Crowley could think about was the desire to devour her lips and kiss her silly.

He'd start with little nibbles on those inviting, full lips, eliciting sweet gasps that would allow him to slip his tongue into the warm wet heat of her mouth. The last time he'd done that, she had tasted like tea and honey - sweet and flavourful, but with a surprising astringency - an intoxicating flavour, to be sure. Perhaps she'd like her breasts fondled as well-

"... Crowley?" Altaira ventured again, cautiously. Was Crowley always such a daydreamer?

Idly, she thought the soft look on his face rather suited him and wondered what, or who, was causing him to make an expression like that. Expertly, she quashed the seed of bitterness that had begun to sprout in her. Angels were never allowed to have negative feelings.

The cause of Crowley's uncharacteristic softness did not matter to her. Not one bit. What could she even do if she knew it? Angels and demons could not be together, and he would never be hers. Never.

Her breath hitched as he reached out to hold and touch a lock of her long, ivory hair, although she made no move to stop him.

There was an inexplicable longing in the yellow, snake-eyed gaze that held hers as he lifted the lock of hair up to his lips and kissed it softly, but with an unmistakable, though restrained, passion. It made her face hot, and she broke the gaze first.

"I was asking if you should be hanging around me right now while Azi-, um, Brother Francis is busy influencing Warlock now," Altaira repeated, trying to pretend that everything was fine.

But Crowley did not seem inclined to play along the way he usually did.

"I should not, but I want to," he said, baldly. "We could kiss."

As Altaira blinked up at him, stunned and unsure of what she had just heard, Crowley softened his statement. "If you like," he mumbled. Still, he wasn't backtracking. He had said what he had said.

"Oh," the hapless seraph murmured, amber gaze darting about nervously. She wanted to say yes, obviously, but again, for obvious reasons, that would be the wrong answer.

Very slowly, Crowley tilted her chin up and dipped closer and closer to Altaira's lips, giving her ample time to withdraw.

Altaira seemed to tremble a little, but she held her ground, looking up at him with lovely, steady eyes.

Crowley paused, his lips a hair's breadth from hers. "If you'd like to stop, tell me now."

For one long, dreadful moment, he feared that she might just end up doing that.

But then she exhaled, a single, gentle sigh against his lips, the only precursor to the return kiss that almost caught him by surprise.

Something warm bloomed in him, and he kissed back harder, more passionately, unable to help himself. His arms wound tighter around her, fingers tangling into the lacquered, silk strands of her ivory hair.

But Altaira's touch wasn't as innocent - raking her nails down the nape of his neck, making him shiver; exploring the severe line of his shoulders, taut with need for her; down his back, scratching lightly and making him moan into her mouth; cupping his rear desirously and pulling his hips forward against hers, only to grind firmly against him. Where had she learnt to move like this?

There was a decisiveness about the way she kissed him, too. While still somewhat unpractised, there was genuine enjoyment and passion in the way her mouth moved against his, as if she had come to a decision.

Willingly, he opened his mouth to her shyly probing tongue. He wanted to close his eyes, but he was afraid that she'd be gone when he next opened them.

Altaira seemed to be trying to copy what he had done to her eons ago, but she was hesitating a bit, and eventually he felt her getting ready to pull back.

It honestly didn't matter to Crowley how Altaira kissed him, as long as she didn't stop. His hand slid down from her hair to the small of her back, pulling her even closer to prevent her retreat. Gently, his tongue coaxed hers back into his mouth, showing her what to do, encouraging her to explore him to her heart's content.

He jerked in startled pleasure as she traced the sensitive edges of his forked tongue, then experimentally sucked his tongue briefly, letting go almost too soon.

Emboldened by his reaction, she did it again, just a little longer this time, and was rewarded with another moan. His hand slid down to her rear, squeezing gently as he ground against her again. He was hard now.

Her tongue caressed his in exploration, massaging his, stroking his, intertwining them, as she enjoyed how Crowley got progressively more and more undone.

His tongue, in particular, seemed to be one huge erogenous zone, and it was so hot to see him react like this. But then again, when was Crowley never?

Altaira broke the liplock, instead peppering the underside of his jaw with soft kisses. Crowley mumbled her name, tilting his head to give her access to his neck.

She didn't disappoint, sucking passionately against the sensitive skin of his throat, and it felt so good. It was sure to leave a mark, but Crowley didn't mind. He wanted her to mark him, actually. He wanted her to leave tangible traces of their involvement, so that he could confirm later that it wasn't just another cruel dream, and that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

He wasn't exactly sure how far she was willing to take this, so he let her take the lead, compliantly leaning back and letting her shrug his blazer off his shoulders and pull the bottom of his shirt out from his pants, helping her slip it off his head.

He lay back, letting her mark the skin of his shoulders, his torso, anywhere she liked. She tried sucking his nipples, too, but it didn't feel any different. It was hot to see her in action, though.

He gasped a little as her hands reached for the waistband of his skirt, cursing himself mentally as she paused, retreating a little and watching his reaction.

He didn't want her to stop, not at all.

Moving slowly, almost as if afraid to break the spell that had come over them both, he tilted his hips up, so that the top of his crotch just barely brushed her hand. He wanted this so much. Whatever she wanted to do, he wanted it.

Mercifully, she continued, smoothly undoing his belt and pulling his skirt down. Crowley bit his lip as his heated flesh was exposed to the cold air.

Altaira met his gaze with a coy, scorching one of her own from under her lashes. Crowley would have gone weak at the knees if he had been standing. Instead, his heart pounded, hot and hard and insistent in his groomed chest, as he watched her slowly lower her head to his embarrassingly leaking manhood. It was all he could do to hold still and not rock his hips up towards her.

Was she really-?

He shuddered, biting his lip even harder as she did, delicately licking his engorged tip. It was such faint and fleeting contact that he almost didn't feel it, only the caress of her warm breath against his sensitive manhood, but just the idea of her being willing to do this to him turned him on even more.

She licked him again, more firmly this time, making his cock twitch.

She paused, tilting her head at him contemplatively, before starting to lick her hand, getting it wet enough for him. She made even that into an irresistible show; he couldn't take his eyes off her slick, plump lips and the sinuous curl of her tongue.

Just as he thought he was about to go mad with need and frustration, she began to grasp his throbbing flesh, pumping slowly in a manner almost designed to tease, and of course his body responded with more leaking.

He couldn't help it this time; his hips bucked involuntarily, chasing after the motion of her hand.

"I know, Crowley, I know," Altaira murmured, lowering her head again so that her lips were again a hair's breath from his cock. "But I want to make you feel as good as the way you did for me."

So saying, she suddenly took just the tip of his head into her mouth, sucking softly at first, then harder as she saw his reaction.

She was such a tease. But if she wanted him to beg, he would.

"Altaira," he groaned. "P-please... I need m-ah!"

She took him deeper into her mouth, bobbing her head up and down around his cock so that her mouth met the hand that grasped and stroked whatever remained of his length that she hadn't been able to take in. She pressed the flat of her tongue against the underside of his length, and he bit the fist shoved against his mouth in an effort to control himself from thrusting up and choking her accidentally. He wanted this to be as pleasant for her as possible.

It was probably a good thing that he was as incapable of coherent thought as he was, or his insane jealousy at the source of her sexual knowledge would have soured the moment.

Altaira's hair was all mussed from the way his fingers buried into and grasped them, and spit dribbled down her chin and his shaft, her cheek bulging from his length in her mouth. The sight of that messiness turned him on even more, if it were even possible.

She must know it too, or she wouldn't have suddenly released him again, planting little nibbling kisses against his shaft.

Altaira smirked at the way Crowley whined, and then took one of his balls into her mouth to suck gently as she pumped his saliva-slicked length with her hand, making a wet, lewd noise that did things to her.

She suckled the other half of his scrotuml, then went back to his cock, setting a faster pace this time and sucking so hard that her cheeks hollowed. She let the involuntary motions of his hips dictate her pace this time, for Crowley was being so good . It wasn't as if she had actually done anything of this sort before, but she had seen many humans do this, and she was a visual learner.

Altaira could get used to this - the salty tang of Crowley's skin, the warm heavy silkiness of his manhood in her mouth, the way he ran his fingers through her hair and against her scalp, and the way he moaned her name, over and over and over as if that was the only word he remembered in the sharp fugue of his rising pleasure.

She rewarded him by pushing a finger up behind his balls, exactly the way he seemed to really like, and that did it.

Crowley had no time to warn her as the exceptionally sharp pleasure overtook him, causing him to accidentally bite his lip even as he spilled hard into her mouth.

The hot white seed in her mouth tasted slightly salty and bitter, musky, like she had always imagined him to taste. It wasn't that bad, she decided, as she released his spent flesh from her mouth with a pop, swallowing whatever hadn't accidentally dripped out.

Crowley was slumped back against the wall, flushed, panting hard, and thoroughly debauched, the plum lipstick smeared past the vermillion zone of his lips, and probably on hers, too. It was such a sexy look on him. But when was he never?

His gaze on her was soft as he carefully tucked some of her hair behind her ears and wiped her chin tenderly with his thumb. "Stay with me," he entreated, his voice full of cautious longing. "If you like."

Altaira drank in the sight of the man she loved, and found that she didn't feel a single ounce of regret. Maybe there was a little fear in the background, but when was it never there? Truthfully, she had not meant to go this far with Crowley, but he had wanted her so much. And Altaira always gave those she loved everything they wanted, as long as it was in her power to do so.

If he wanted her to stay, she would. Of course she would. She wanted to.

Emphatically, she nodded, and Crowley studied her face. Whatever he saw there made him smirk and pull her closer for another kiss; tender, sweet, and a perfect declaration of his feelings for her.

She didn't pull away this time, as he almost half-expected her to; noting this, something in him bloomed.

There was a certain beauty, it must be said, in letting go and giving into what the psyche was screaming at you. Altaira was tired of fighting herself. She loved Crowley. Being with him, seeing him happy, knowing she was the one to make him happy… All of that felt right.

They would just have to be more careful. With her birds to alert her and Crowley's craftiness, she was confident they would be able to keep a secret from the forces of heaven and hell.

She visited Crowley often, now, and sometimes she even interacted with little Warlock.

"Are you an angel, Miss White?" The inquisitive little boy piped up one day, just as they were sipping on cocoa made by Aziraphale - which was how you know it's good - causing the seraph to sputter and spit out her mouthful of drink.

"U-uh uh, what?" She goggled at him, eyes opened wide.

Crowley sighed, rolling his eyes. It was probably just a lucky guess on the brat's part. You couldn't count on angels to keep secrets.

"Yes, she is," the demon chimed in. "The gardener is one, too. And I'm a demon. Heaven and Hell exist, you know."

Warlock stared at him for a bit, then laughed.

"Might I be one, too?" The child asked, hopefully.

Altaira looked at Crowley, unsure what to say. He shrugged at her.

Angels and demons were created by Her. Humans were, well, humans. A different kind of creation that She made.

"Well, you have to be born an angel, Warlock. But you could strive to be a good human, and then you'd go to heaven. That's akin to being an angel, without all the responsibility."

Come to think of it, humans had it pretty good, in some ways.

"Would I be able to fly, with wings?"

"No, but you'd be able to float, like Peter Pan! Isn't that wonderful? Wings are pretty cumbersome, anyway."

Warlock tilted his head curiously. "How many wings do you have, Miss White?"

If they were making it a point to tell him the truth, then…

"I have six, Warlock. Most angels have two. It makes me faster than most of them. All the better to catch you with, my dear!" Altaira affected a cackling witch's voice, swiftly reaching out with hands poised like claws to catch Warlock and give him a tickle.

The little boy shrieked in delight and excitement, running away as fast as he could with Altaira hot on his heels, arms outstretched threateningly.

Kids, man. They were so fun to scare. Why, the last time…