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With a steady rustle, the rain pattered outside against one of the floor-length windows of Crowley's Mayfair flat. Aziraphale loved nothing more these days than to find the greatest joy in reading by a window as the weather ran its course. Which he was doing at this very moment as the weather thrummed and occasionally snapped and crackled outside.
The Bookshop was his literal heart; he could and would spend every lovely rainy day reading in it’s comfort. He felt safe there and knew Crowley did as well, which was heartening since he first invited him over the threshold when it was new.
Yet, Aziraphale felt the need to share in Crowley's spaces as well. If they were going to be together for the rest of their time, which could be all of time for all they knew, he insisted they should be closer. The orbits they shared and circled for so many years did just that; circled.
So here, today, he was fulfilling all of that within reason. Crowley insisted Aziraphale wouldn't care much for his place even though they had shared the space before. He requested Crowley to please do what he normally did to unwind at his inner sanctum and share his everydayness that did not include a very long nap.
So Aziraphale, glimpsing up from his reading now and then as he lounged on the sleek modern settees with his books, saw the demon pace about with a perpetually refilling tumbler in hand going through repetious time-filling functions. ‘Catlike’ had always been a fair description of Crowley in Aziraphale's mind, but today he was the textbook definition of it. So much so that Aziraphale wished he’d loosen up and leave some of the tension behind. Aziraphale had even left his beloved overcoat as if to strip away a layer of formality and let himself unwind. Instead, he donned his slack knitted oversweater. Crowley remained in his stylish jacket and had only removed his sunglasses.
So far, Crowley’s day had consisted of tending to his plants, snapping his fingers to turn on various music to hum softly from another room, spritzing his plants some more, pacing back to the decanter on the small coffee table to refill his glass, sauntering off to regard a piece of art or statue for several moments, and moving on to his plants again to mutter something insulting about their lack of growth. The unexciting circuit was only broken when Crowley would deviate from it to drift closer to Aziraphale. It was at these moments Aziraphale, even buried to the point of blind to the world around him, was beginning to feel something from Crowley. Like a warmth, or heat.
Moreso he swore he smelled something rising around him as well and permeating the room. He knew Crowley’s smell anywhere. There was a cindery ashen quality to any Fallen Angel that was unmistakable, especially depending on what sulphur pit they had fallen into. Over the years Crowley’s scent was less sooty and more smoldering and musky. Of course the apartment smelled like the owner, but tendrils of something deeper were wafting by. After casually assuming it was perhaps it was just the drink he was smelling (unlikely, Crowley stuck to his Talisker) or an incense burner (which, the more he thought of it, realized Crowley was NOT a type for; he’d mentioned it reminded him too much of a church), he wondered if it was Crowley. It would be a perfect way to start a conversation, asking if perhaps he switched aftershave. But by the time he had had that thought, Crowley had slipped to another room.
After several delightfully quiet hours (save for the tapping of rain outside), Crowley’s meanderings had become noticeably more simplistic. When the demon drifted nearer, sipping from his glass and scanning around while fussing over the nearest greenery, the Angel knew the subtle cue of hoping for engagement of some sort. He had given Crowley enough time in his own space to spend time together. As expected, Crowley seemed particularly occupied with the nearest plants, spritzing the foliage.
Perhaps it was his turn to instigate some more face time before the Demon would begin to slowly stride around the room again to very much repeat most of the actions over.
“Crowley, dear,” he addressed “Would you care to come here with me? It’s a perfect day to sit together. ”
Crowley shrugged from his leafy oversaturating.
“Mmm, you said do my thing like I do. So I’m doing it. And we are together, aren’t we Angel?”
Aziraphale closed his book.
Oh, of course he’ll play that angle , he tutted to himself. Well, I won’t ask, I’ll insist.
“Oh, I must confess,” Aziraphale said as he rose up, “I’m worrying you are spending more time with the plants than me. So, please…” he took a step forward before sitting directly on the floor, “... Come over here. Hmmm?”
Naturally, Crowley furrowed his face and looked ready to give any and every reason why he wouldn’t and how ridiculous he would look sitting on the floor like a child at a preschool game.
Aziraphale raised a finger. “I said ‘please’! Remember? If one of us says ‘please’, the other…”
“ ‘Has to listen,’ “ Crowley snarled. “I did listen and I don’t see why…”
Aziraphale remained prim and patted the floor in front of him.
“Now PLEASE come here before I humiliate you in front of your plants.”
Thunder growled outside. Crowley side-eyed those blindly judgemental leaves all around, feeling them all lean in slightly.
Crowley felt heat in his cheeks but wasn’t about to make a scene. The plants couldn’t have that one.
Putting aside his frustrations, he stepped over and without another word sat right before Aziraphale. He had just adjusted with his knees bent as Aziraphale, unstressed and calm, was inclining right towards Crowley, raising his hands towards his face.
Crowley froze in his motion. “Uh, Angel, you, uhm…”
Words came no further as Aziraphale kissed ever so delicately on his lips.
With his fingertips merely touching along Crowley's sharp jawline, he let the kiss linger soft and quietly.
He pulled back but didn't remove his fingertips, still connected with the feather touch. He swore Crowley was warmer and vibrating just under his fingers. Those yellow eyes glinted like embers revived with a perfect breath of air.
"Better?"
Crowley exhaled, revealing he had been holding his breath this whole time. He still said nothing. Aziraphale couldn't read his emotions but felt the uncertainty.
So much tension , Aziraphale thought. He wants me to come closer but steps one step out every time. I can't let him just slink away.
Aziraphale assured him gently with a blink and the slightest upturn of a smile.
"Dear, I know you say words aren't your forte, but you can say whatever you need to..."
Crowley started to open his mouth in protest but Aziraphale continued.
"...and however you need. Even without words."
Crowley gave a small but surprised scoff.
"Uhhnk, well. I mean, yeah. Words kind of get in the way sometimes. Or push us in the wrong directions... you might get more than you're askin' for."
It was Aziraphale's turn to scoff. He moved to his feet, rising only enough to tug off his oversweater.
''Well, then let us set our directions proper, shall we? Clearly, you have something to get out of your system," he said as he tossed the garment aside with precision. "Perhaps you could let it out for me. Let me get a little closer."
Crowley inhaled, remaining obvious in his exaggerated overacting that he didn’t care or fully understand what was being implied.
"Perhaps, but you probably wouldn't..."
His words tapered off as Aziraphale, with care but firm affirmation, straddled on his knees over Crowley's legs. Crowley's first reaction was to try and rise, but his knees bumped right into Aziraphale's seat as he remained down, forcing him to lower them and brace himself with his hands behind his back.
They were closer. Much closer.
As mildly awkward as it was for Crowley to now be faced with a threadbare vest-front and Aziraphale's face above his, the press of limbs and rub of the angel’s body to his was persuasive. His own skin stung with tension.
"Mnnnhk," he murmured, "Closer. Right. Mmmhh, now that you are closer..."
"Now that we are closer," Aziraphale softly corrected.
Their eyes were now locked and neither attempted to break away.
Effervescent blue glistening against the luminous flames could have been the only light in the dusky room until a grumble of thunder reminded them both to blink.
Crowley gulped in a deep breath.
"We," he whispered as if the word had just arrived in his head. He cagily smirked. "Us?"
Aziraphale returned a sensitive smirk of his own.
"Us. As it should be."
Crowley took another, deeper breath, blinking hard like a man fighting tears.
No, Crowley, don't let your mind go there, Aziraphale thought, stay here with me now.
"It's alright," Aziraphale whispered at his deepest tone, returning his hands to Crowley's face. They both twitched at the tiny static spark as the fingers connected to the skin but leaned into each other. The hesitant aching behind those slitted eyes told Aziraphale the demon wanted to say something more. Something deep and personal, something words couldn’t explain.
"It's alright, dear. Show me how you feel. Say everything you need to. I'm here."
Crowley slid fast and inhuman as only he could for another kiss, harder and tinted with forepleasure as his tongue pressed to Aziraphale's.
Gripping tighter than he meant, Aziraphale pushed into the intimacy, turning slightly to press as close as he could before he pulled back for breath.
I'm here, I'm here.
And he was, feeling an elation starting in his heart racing through his limbs, breathing titillation to his every sense.
Crowley breathed equally hard, still glaring back in mild dare, rasping out his words.
"Mind if I smoke?"
Aziraphale was still trying to comprehend Crowley’s strange wisecrack as he felt actual smoke pressing to his nose before he realized his eyes weren't blurring from staring so deeply into Crowleys. A sheer veil of smoke, materializing around and from the Demon.
There was no missing a small snarky curl of a grin on his face now too.
"That's just fine, dear," Aziraphale soothed, not entirely sure what and where this could be headed and sensing something starting to vibrate between their bodies.
“Go on. If that’s what you feel… blaze away.”
The smoke flowed a little faster and darker. Crowley's eyes were two blazing orbs that no longer had pupils that Aziraphale stared deeper into. That sensation between them thrummed harder and became more physical. Like oscillations from Crowley’s core that was seeping out, Aziraphale felt it more and more, well… Electrical. He had seen Crowley use it in a self defense or reaction. But more unforgettably and explosively during temper tantrums that boiled to an electric storm.
Well, perhaps it’s best to help him ride this little thunderstorm out.
The first sensations felt like a tug where his knees and shoes touched the floor. A draw that felt living. So seemingly detached in feeling from everything ensuing, he wondered what else could be happening.
Then he felt the jolt whirring up his limbs, buzzing to every joint, especially in his knuckles.
Naturally, his corporation wanted to panic, yet he held firm.
"It's alright, dear, " Aziraphale whispered. "Please come closer."
Like his words were somewhere between permission and dare, Crowley arched his torso up, reaching his hands to Aziraphale's lower back. It didn't feel like fingers that pushed into the rear of his frayed waistcoat. Whipping arcs of energy wriggled from the palms over his whole back. Unable to stop from flinching, he felt mildly discomforted trying to find a posture and take in the building force.
Crowley criss crossed his legs underneath Aziraphale's bottom, providing more of a seat that also pitched his lower body right against Crowley's upper body. The already lean face was pulled taut sharply craning up. There was no missing the shimmering illumination of energy behind Crowley’s eyes, snaking up and down his neck like a glowing freeway to and from his demonic heart.
Aziraphale shuddered at the unexpected onslaught of power, riding the thrill of free falling with this riveting stimulation.
His corporation also was fighting; the whole of his Angelic reflexes screaming to fight off what they felt to be some sort of Demonic attack. Celestial instincts slammed inside his head; to summon his great white wings up to flap madly and shake away the benumbing sensation. To call forth his halo as a weapon. To take on a true form and fight was clearly a bodily possession from the enemy. But he checked his Angelic reaction and steeled himself to turn into the feeling. He cupped his hands against the back of Crowley's head that buzzed under his grip like a hornet's nest. With the same calm patience that had weathered any shock from Crowley for the last six thousand years, he compelled the smoldering eyes to stare into his.
"I'm here, Crowley," he said.
Crowley's fingers moved, gathering up Aziraphale's waistcoat and undershirt as they slid under, further diving to meet his bare flesh. Aziraphale's own body couldn't stop arching as he reminded himself it was fine, nothing could harm it. But the surge of pure voltage points jabbing into his back made his whole spine clench and the muscles yank in ways he’d never felt before.
It was sensational. Something between heartstopping in the immense sensory shock, and something energizing in every sense.
"Ahh, that's good. Just... good, Crowley."
He didn't mean to gasp out his words, but it was all he could do to focus on the shock. The front of his trousers gouged with more force than he wanted against Crowley's upper torso, building the mounting frisson he couldn’t pretend to quell.
Crowley breathed fiercer, teeth slightly bared as he craned his head back.
It was clear he too was experiencing the stimulating thrill that was building as the electricity snapped around him. And there was no missing the jut from his trouser front slotted under Aziraphale’s rear.
“Just… ahhh, go on, Crowley. Do as you feel.”
Aziraphale felt his core quiver as Crowley chuckled.
“You first, Angel. Please.”
Crowley’s fingers massaged from his spine to the thick of his waist under his ribs.
Aziraphale yelped out. His muscles spasmed of their own will. He sensed Crowley was pressing in a pattern that, despite the assault on his senses, was thrilling. He was caressing deeper and slower. Aziraphale’s heart thundered. He had become erect in his own clothes at an obscene speed. The twitching of his own body against Crowley’s, the sensations, Crowley’s touch that was now sliding lower down his back was rising to a crest that he couldn’t slow. He grasped Crowley’s shoulders and bowed his own head down to one, quavering out a moan as the slim fingers of Crowley’s right hand slid down between the cleft of his arse. Crowley edged a finger inward, making Aziraphale shove his body harder against Crowley.
He could have been saying anything or nothing, he wasn’t sure. Another finger moved inward with care as Crowley hooked upward.
Aziraphale didn’t last much longer than that, climaxing hard and surrounded all around with nebulae of power that continued to lash from all sides. But Crowley was anchoring him there, through the storm, working him through the aftershocks and supporting the weight of his body.
Always a steady rock in the storm for me, Aziraphale mused to himself as he lifted his head to resume looking down at the Demon. And the storm itself sometimes.
They could have been anywhere, but all either could see was the living orb and each other. The kaleidoscopic bursts of light would flash-fill the dark and vaulting voids of the room, rendering the cool colors and angles bare. The occasional pop of lightning and peel of thunder outside was nothing now, mocked by the intensity inside.
The houseplants were surely in a state of coma-like terror at this point.
The crackling snarled deafeningly around them, akin to music. Aziraphale would have to shout above it to be heard by anyone else, but he knew he didn't have to. Crowley could hear his soft murmuring over any tempest inside and outside.
It was his turn to smirk slightly as he canted towards Crowley’s outstretched face to stammer out his words.
“ ‘Canst thou send forth lightnings, that they may go, And say unto thee, Here we are?’” Crowley cackled, the most Demon visage of eyes and teeth aglow before he resumed his thrusting. “If there were anyone,” Aziraphale crooned, " I think it would be you, my dear. And here we are. Now.”
Steeling himself for the biggest jolt yet, it was his turn to pull their mouths together for the most fervent kiss he could give. All his senses were blinded by the intensity of power slamming him right in the face, but all he knew was Crowley against him.
Crowley's eyes clamped tight. It was his turn to scream out. The sound amplified to something that could split time and most likely sent the houseplants into full defoliation. Everything detonated at once. The piercing sensation of the electric rushed out like a wave and was gone in an instant.
Aziraphale was wobbly and tingled. Jostled and stunned.
The air was so very much cooler and calm, though he shivered gooseflesh at the cooling sweat all over his body and the overstimulated aftershocks his cock was still having.
Crowley heaved his breath too, but all tension left his frame with the electric. His body still smoked. Like a living demonic incense burner, graceful tendrils of soft smoke wafted from him and around them both.
"Thank you," Crowley said as he let his head rest against Aziraphale's shoulder. "Thank you, angel. For trusting me."
Aziraphale was weary from all the exertion and very much wanted to move from this odd seating and see if he could stretch his leg muscles or any of his muscles for that matter. But he wasn't going to let go that easily, cradling the sweaty tousled red hair against his neck.
"Oh course," he smiled between deep breaths. "We keep each other grounded, don't we?"
Crowley chuckled. "You just like playing with fire is all, Angel."
"I think we both do, dear."