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“Hey. Earth to Crowley.” Bea snapped their fingers in front of his face.
Crowley turned his head in their direction. “What?”
“You’ve been starin’ out the window aimlessly for, like, fifteen minutes. You’re supposed to be puttin’ together the new trail ride schedules.” They didn’t look happy, although annoyed was their usual expression. Especially when dealing with Crowley.
“They’re done.” He shoved a stack of paper across the desk.
Bea cast an eye over them, “Hn, you’re keepin’ the dawn rides then? Surprised you didn’t try and use your position with the bossman to get out of that.” They said snidely.
Crowley ignored the jab, he couldn’t fault Bea for the assumption — he would absolutely use sex with Aziraphale to leverage getting out of something, if he thought for a second it would work. “They’re growin’ on me.”
“They're gonna stop growing on ya when you have to actually educate a real hotel guest and not just bend them over the nearest fence post.”
“I didn’t bend him over a fence post!”
“All I know is that horse wouldn’t let anyone near its rear for a week after you got back. Honestly the less I fucking know about that the better.”
Crowley had the decency to look slightly embarrassed, although he couldn’t stop a smug smile passing over his lips. He stood up and walked past them. “You’re just jealous I’m havin’ weird, kinky sex and you’re not.”
Bea threw a rubber band ball at him, smirking as it caught the back of his leg and bounced off into the lobby.
“Ow, fuck you.” Crowley said, hopping onto one leg as he made his way to the door. “There’s some dude out here to check in, looks like he lives inside a clean room, should be fun.”
“Check him in then, dickhead.”
“Ooo, no can do. Got stables to muck out, you know since we’re short handed and all.”
“Aggh, Crowley!” Bea growled as he flipped them off over his shoulder, ducking out the side entrance and away from the front desk. They stomped out of the office and came face to face with a tall, broad man wearing a pristine grey suit and looking around the lobby down his nose.
“What?” they said aggressively, arms crossed.
“Uh, checking in please. This IS the Devil’s Punchbowl Ranch right?”
“Sure is, and you are?”
“Here for the Golden Arch corporate retreat.
“Yeah, I can tell.” Bea looked him up and down with a raised eyebrow. “I need a name.”
“Gabriel. Archer.”
“Course it is.” They said, rolling their eyes.
Crowley whistled to himself as he walked across the yard, he hadn’t been staring out the window aimlessly as Bea had assumed. He’d been staring out the window waiting to catch Aziraphale walk nonchalantly across the yard and into the barn.
The two weeks since they’d ridden out across the ranch together in the early hours had been manic. Summer was coming to an end and the ranch had been full of last minute holiday bookings as people realised kids were going back to school and they had very little time to do something purposeful with their break. Crowley had mixed feelings about it, on the one hand city parents were the worst, turning up wearing sandals and capri pants, moaning about the smell and the heat and the lack of spa facilities. On the other hand most of the kids were a riot, excited to get away from cars and built up suburban tarmac and into rural life. They liked seeing horses up close for the first time, and were even more excited when they learned they’d be allowed to ride them. Crowley filled his day with shorter trail rides out for teens and hand led trots round the paddock for younger kids. Joking around with the confident ones and gently helping the less confident ones get over their fear of the giant animals. He’d caught Aziraphale watching him amusedly on more than one occasion, but when he’d got defensive and bristled the man had just smiled and said it was nice to see him being a positive role model.
Which was an accusation Crowley had never had levied at him.
Those families had all packed up and gone home as back-to-school loomed on the horizon, and the only major booking they had for the rest of the month was a corporate retreat. Crowley hated those groups: stuck up, Vineyard Vines trust fund douchebags who’d make snide jokes about the staff and facilities because they thought everyone working on a ranch was some stupid hick too dumb to understand they were being mocked. But they paid a lot of money to pretend to get in touch with their ‘roots’ — whatever the fuck that meant — and the previous owners had made it clear the staff were to shut up and put up if it meant the dollars kept flowing. Annoyance at this was one the very few things everyone working on the ranch unanimously agreed on.
With the last of the guests gone home and the corporate retreat party yet to arrive, Crowley finally had a gap in his schedule, and he knew exactly who he planned to spend doing in it.
He hadn’t told Aziraphale of course, though he doubted the man would object. He wasn’t sure they were quite at the ‘drop a message for a booty call stage’ yet. So he had found himself, trail scheduling done, staring out the window looking for a blonde head of hair to bobble across the courtyard.
It had done so just as Bea had called him out for daydreaming, so he’d made his excuses and left — slightly hobbled thanks to the well aimed band ball — and hurried across the yard as quickly as he could manage whilst trying to look casual.
He was, as ever, grateful that denim hid a myriad of sins.
The barn door creaked as it opened and Aziraphale stopped loading the hay baler and turned around, resting his elbow on the handle of the hay fork.
“Fancy findin’ you here,” Crowley drawled as he sauntered towards Aziraphale, thumbs shoved into the belt loops of his jeans. He was chewing on a strand of hay.
“Mm.” Aziraphale hummed, amused, “Indeed, a ranch hand in the barn baling hay, how unusual.”
“Ranch owner. ” Crowley corrected.
“Semantics, work needs doing. Seems someone keeps running off the help.” Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. He’d asked about the slew of young ranch hands, stable hands and desk clerks that had come and gone over the last few years. Bea had been fairly gleeful in informing him Crowley had played a part in almost all of them.
Crowley’s expression darkened. “Not my fault people don’t understand what ‘no strings’ means,” he said, annoyed.
“It’s what you get for fucking people barely into adulthood my dear, they get feelings.”
“Good job I learned that lesson.” Crowley ran his eyes over Aziraphale.
Aziraphale smirked, “Indeed. Now, since you’ve apparently run off all the help, the least you could do is assist me.” He threw the hay fork at Crowley, who caught it reflexively.
“What?”
Aziraphale looked at him. “Surely you didn’t think that just because I’m more than happy to let you fuck me I’d let you get away with not pulling your weight?”
Crowley spluttered, “Well, no. But…”
“No buts then, chop chop.” Aziraphale nodded at the hay that needed baling.
Crowley stared at him for a few moments, then grinned, “‘Aight, fine,” he said, “but it’s mighty warm in here.” He dropped the fork to the floor, and brought his hands up to his shirt. “I’m just gonna get a lil more comfortable.” Crowley popped the top button on his shirt, fingers sliding down to the second and third slowly, each revealing a bit more of his chest.
Aziraphale swallowed, he fully intended to make Crowley do his actual job and get the hay baled. If his second intention had been to goad Crowley into throwing him into a haystack afterwards…well that was Aziraphale’s business. Crowley, however, was making an excellent case for rewards before chores right now, and Aziraphale wasn’t putting much effort into arguing. His eyes followed the movement of Crowley’s fingers as they slowly slipped button after button out of its hole, the shirt gaping wider and wider until it was entirely undone. Crowley loosened his belt, jeans slipping down over slim hips as he pulled the shirt tails out and shrugged it off over his shoulders.
“Whoops,” he said as it fell to the floor. “Better get that.” He turned and bent over, not bothering to bend his knees, loose jeans slouching lower and revealing the swell of his arse and an enticing dimple just above the inviting crease between his cheeks. Crowley scooped the shirt up, grabbing the fork at the same time, and slung it over a shoulder, running a tongue along his lips.
“Where d’you want me boss?” He leant on the fork, jeans now dangerously low on his hips.
Aziraphale let his eyes rake up and down, amused at Crowley’s posturing, clearly thinking he’d made a point, that he’d won.
“That pile over there please.” He pointed to a towering stack of hay, “into the baler.”
Crowley narrowed his eyes but moved to comply. “Ya not planning on doin’ anythin’ anymore?” He grumbled.
“Oh I rather thought I might take a well earned rest.” Aziraphale said, and leant against a support post, sliding down it until he was sitting, legs outstretched, in the loose hay collected around the base. “As you were.” He crossed his ankles.
Crowley rolled his jaw around as he started spearing clumps of hay and moving it into the baler. He made sure to flex his shoulders as he moved, swing his hips in just the right way, his jeans shifted just a little bit lower. He knew he was in danger of losing them completely, but he was fairly confident the belt would stop them falling completely down — and anyway, completely down was hardly the end of the world. It wasn’t long before the baler was full for the first load and Crowley set it going and turned to look at Aziraphale while he waited. His eyes widened, then he grinned,
“Jus’ can’t help yourself can ya?”
Aziraphale was palming himself through his jeans, hand moving slowly, almost thoughtlessly across the front of his jeans, “You make for an enticing view.”
“I’m over here, gettin’ all hot and sweaty and you’re jus’ sittin’ there gettin’ off. Doesn’ seem fair.”
“I think you’ll find I’m quite hot and sweaty as well.” Aziraphale said, pulling his legs in and pushing himself to his feet. “In fact, I might follow your excellent example.” His fingers ran up the lengths of his suspenders, pulling them away from his body so Crowley could see how the thick elastic had pressed his shirt into his skin, dampness collecting there and causing it to stick. Aziraphale slid them off his shoulders letting them fall to his hips. He flexed his arms, rolling his neck and letting out a soft sigh at the sensation.
Crowley stared at him openly. “Might need to keep goin’. Not sure that’ll cut it,” he said, watching as Aziraphale’s fingers found his top button. No bow tie in this getup, Crowley noted, but he suspected it’d be a cold day in hell before anyone found Aziraphale with any shirt button casually popped open whilst working.
But it sure didn’t look like he had a problem with all of them popped open. Crowley followed Aziraphale’s fingers as the man flicked them open one by one, revealing a firm chest, generously sprinkled with blond curls. Crowley immediately wanted to run his fingers through it. Aziraphale turned to hang the shirt on a nail sticking out of the post and Crowley moved.
“Good Lord, where have ya been keepin’ this. ” He groaned out, hands skimming over Aziraphale’s thick, muscled shoulders and through his soft chest hair.
“Fuck, do ya, like condition this? How is it so soft ?”
Aziraphale had thrown a hand out, and his arm was resting against the post to brace himself against the force of Crowley behind him, his other hand moved to cover Crowley’s and Crowley felt him slide it through his chest hair. “I mean yes? I’m already doing my head hair, why wouldn’t I do the rest of my hair? Don’t you?” He sounded indignant.
“No!?” Crowley said laughing in his ear.
“Heathen,” Aziraphale shot back, and Crowley felt his hand being firmly pushed down through the trail of soft hair leading over Aziraphale’s firm stomach.
“Ah ah. Greedy, you’re the one who drew this out, now ya can wait.” Crowley tangled his fingers with Aziraphale’s and pulled the hand out from in front of him, forcing it up onto the post with the other one. Aziraphale groaned and pushed back into Crowley.
“D’ya like that? Yeah?” Crowley breathed in his ear, his arms stretched over Aziraphale to hold both his hands in place, “Like being manhandled a lil bit? Told what’s what?”
“Well, if you’d let me put your hand in my pants you’d know.”
“Oh, I can tell, and don’t think I won’t be goin’ in there of ma own volition very soon.”
“Hmm.” Aziraphale hummed and wiggled his backside into Crowley, “Your hands seem awfully occupied keeping mine out of trouble though. I can’t make any promises about them staying put if you just let them go.”
Crowley stared at the back of Aziraphale’s head for a few moments before casting his eyes around the barn; there was unlikely to be anything suitable in here. He was just contemplating whether he could make do with one of their shirts when his eyes caught on a set of leather straps hanging innocuously next to the baler, how he’d missed them when he was working he had no idea. Well, his fingers flexed around Aziraphale’s wrists, he had some idea.
“Well,” he drawled out slowly into Aziraphale’s ear. “Looks like someone put their gear away in the wrong place. Fancy that, can’t imagine anyone workin’ on a ranch would be gettin’ confused between the barn and the stable.”
“Maybe someone new might?” Aziraphale offered weakly.
Crowley smiled against his ear, “Only got one newbie ‘round here. Bossman.” Crowley felt Aziraphale shiver, “Now, hold still.” Crowley let his arms go and stepped back, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of Aziraphale bent forward, shirtless and panting, braced against the wooden support post. He walked back to the baler quickly and grabbed the bridle that someone had accidentally hung up in the wrong place. It was going to be interesting figuring out how to work with this — it wasn’t exactly designed for human proportions.
Crowley loosened the leather straps as he walked back, pleased to see Aziraphale hadn’t moved at all. He eyed over the post and spotted a hook screwed into it above Aziraphale’s head. Crowley felt his cock pulse in his jeans as his brain supplied him with a detailed image of Aziraphale, tied up and hooked on it.
“On your knees.” He growled out before his brain could re engage and provide him a less aggressive way of getting his point across. It didn’t matter, before he had a chance to even add ‘please’ Aziraphale had dropped to the hay with a moan, arms still out stretched above him as his head fell forward onto the wood.
“Fuck.” Crowley said, “You’re gonna kill me.” He stepped forward, letting the bridle drag over Aziraphale’s taut back. Aziraphale shuddered and his head dropped down, the long line of his neck exposed. Crowley slid the wide loops over Aziraphale’s hands and down his arms as far as they would go, tightening up the buckles as much as possible.
“S’not perfect, gonna be a bit loose.” Crowley said, pushing the leather down another inch over Aziraphale’s biceps, the wider thick leather of the headpiece sat nicely across both arms pressing into the muscle and soft tissue of his upper arms. Crowley could already see the skin pinking up and turning red under the binding. The nose piece was wound around Aziraphale’s wrists and much looser, Crowley adjusted all the strapping as tight as it would go, “‘course I don’t think the bein’ tied up is quite as important here compared to what you’re bein’ tied up with is it?”
“Very astute of you.” Aziraphale’s voice was taut, but as he flexed his arms and easily shifted inside the bridle he sighed, “sometimes fantasy just doesn’t translate.”
Crowley frowned, he didn’t like the disappointed sound running through Aziraphale’s voice, “Well it’s translatin’ for me, seein’ you all tangled up in that bridle…” He grabbed the reins and tugged them up over the hook, winding them around and pulling Aziraphale’s arms tight. “Fuck, makes me wanna flip you around and use ya mouth.”
“O-ohh, God…” Aziraphale let out a breathy moan, he flexed his hands again and found them less movable now all the leather was pulled tight against his arms where he couldn’t quite reach close enough to the hook to keep the slack on it. He lifted up slightly to ease the slack and shuffled around on his knees, tightening the leather as he went. Until, when he finally settled back on his knees looking up at Crowley, his arms were stretched fully above his head and the bridle was tangled so completely the looseness was irrelevant.
Crowley looked down at him, bright blue eyes stared back up at him, glassy with arousal and a pink flush had filled his cheeks. He opened his mouth wide, the invitation clear.
“Jesus fuck, Aziraphale.” Crowley grasped his chin, “I am gonna mess you up.”
Aziraphale just nodded.
Crowley had his jeans undone in seconds, pushing them down just far enough to get his cock out. He fed it into Aziraphale’s waiting mouth with no preamble, groaning at the wet warmness that surrounded him.
Aziraphale sucked in immediately, tongue flattening out and curling itself around the underside of Crowley’s cock, he shifted his head back and forth as much as he could then frowned, annoyed, as he realised how limited his range of movement was with his hands suspended behind his head.
Crowley huffed amused, “Don’ worry, you just sit there. I’ve been doin’ the hard work all afternoon anyway.” Aziraphale rolled his eyes and Crowley laughed, “Only you could manage to look so indignant with my cock in your mouth.” He slid his hand along Aziraphale’s jaw and into the soft hair at the nape of his neck, bringing his other one up to cradle the otherside.
“Click ya fingers for me.” Crowley murmured looking at Aziraphale, who looked at him in confusion but obeyed; a clear snap rang out. “Good, do that if you need a break kay?”
Aziraphale’s face relaxed and he nodded, eyes sliding shut. Crowley felt him relax, his jaw going slack and his shoulders dropping as he let his knees spread and sink into the loose hay gathered around the base of the post.
Crowley started slowly, thrusting in gently to let Aziraphale settle. He could feel him running his tongue over the underside of Crowley’s cock, pointing the tip and moving over the slit of the head on each draw back. Crowley shuffled his feet forward, bumping into Aziraphale’s knees he kept one hand cupping his face and moved the other to the post, bracing himself as he picked up speed.
“Fuck….Az…” Crowley breathed out looking down at the man’s face, upturned as much the position would allow, eyes lightly shut and jaw slack, thin trails of drool escaping that seemed not to bother him at all. Aziraphale sucked and Crowley moaned at the added pressure, jerking deeper, Aziraphale coughed through his nose and Crowley felt his throat spasm, he pulled back.
“S’ok, don’t gotta -” Crowley was cut off by Aziraphale opening his eyes and emphatically pushing his head and mouth forward as much as he could manage, swallowing pointedly whilst staring at Crowley, his eyes were sharp even as Crowley could see tears leaking from them. “Okay. Got it.” He said softly, his thumb brushing one trail of salt liquid away as Aziraphale closed his eyes again, relaxing.
Crowley pushed in, gradually but firmly, feeling Aziraphale’s jaw relax around him and his tongue go slack. His cock bumped against the back of Aziraphale’s throat and he felt the same spasm flutter around him as he pressed in, listening carefully for the click of Aziraphale’s fingers.
It never came, instead he felt Aziraphale suddenly swallow around him and take a great heaving breath through his nose, his chest expanding and pressing into Crowley’s knees, Aziraphale jerked his head forward, and Crowley could only interpret that as an invitation to move; so he did.
Slowly at first and quickly increasing as it became clear Aziraphale had found a rhythm; swallowing around Crowley as he pressed the full length of his cock into him, forcing his breath in through his nose and exhaling calmly. The rough texture of Aziraphale’s tongue was a constant pressure on the underside of his cock.
Crowley sank into the sensation, one hand slipping down the post of its own accord to tangle in Aziraphale’s fingers, the other spreading across Aziraphale’s cheek. His palm feeling the swell of his cock pushing out. His thumb brushing gently at the stretch of Aziraphale’s lips and smearing leaked fluid around.
Aziraphale moaned around him, strangled and quiet, Crowley could feel him shifting against his feet, legs tensing and drawing in before relaxing down into the hay covered ground, sighing and trying to complement the increased pace Crowley was setting.
Crowley’s orgasm washed over him almost by surprise, it had built so gradually and he had been absorbed so completely by the rhythmic push and pull into Aziraphale’s throat that by the time he realised it was building it was too late to do anything but groan out a warning and clutch at Aziraphale’s hand and face.
Aziraphale swallowed around him, pressing his nose into the rough, dark hair at the base of Crowley’s cock and moaning, louder, as his mouth opened. Saliva and come escaping and dripping down his chin. Aziraphale went slack in the bridle as his fingers clenched around Crowley’s.
Aziraphale slumped forward breathing heavily as Crowley withdrew, hissing at the friction on his sensitive cock. He untangled his fingers and slid the reins off the hook, Aziraphale’s arms trembling as they dropped forward, still bound, onto the floor between his legs, he shuddered and leant back against the post, eyes closed as he took in deep breaths.
Crowley stared at him, messed blond hair sticking together with sweat. Still breathing heavily as tears and come and spit dried slowly on his face and neck. Arms slack in front of him crossed over with the thick leather straps of a horse bridle as he opened his eyes and blinked slowly up at Crowley. “Fuck, Aziraphale, you’re amazin’.” Crowley murmured, “Look at ya, all messed up and dirty just for me.”
Crowley tucked himself away and crouched down, settling on his knees and slowly undoing the buckles to slide the bridle off his arms, pressing fingers into the flesh to get blood moving again. “Your turn now, yeah.” He slid a hand up Aziraphale’s thigh.
“Ah…no need.” Aziraphale said, voice hoarse, and that certainly did things to Crowley his body wasn’t prepared to deliver on again just yet.
Crowley raised an eyebrow, his hand stopped and his eyes dropped to the crotch of Aziraphale’s jeans. Hard to tell much with the thick dark fabric. “Did ya already…?”
Aziraphale nodded, looking faintly embarrassed, and Crowley swallowed, still staring. “Fuck. That’s hot, jus’ from my cock in your mouth.” He reached out and pressed his palm into the softness of Aziraphale’s crotch.
Aziraphale let out a little noise and bucked up into it. “Ahh, still…delicate…” he said.
“When did ya…?” Crowley trailed off, squeezing gently now he could feel the slight dampness against his palm, enjoying how it felt and how Aziraphale jerked in his hand.
“Ah, well, I mean, if you must know…around the time you grabbed my hand. Although coming down my throat certainly helped finish me off.”
Crowley’s eyes snapped back up to Aziraphale’s face, flushed pink and still damp around his lips, his lips curled into a smile, “Didn’t think holdin’ your hand would do it for ya.”
Aziraphale frowned, and Crowley instantly hated it, “No need to tease.”
“M’not!” He said hurriedly, “It’s…cool…I kinda like it, just wasn’t expectin’ it, yanno. Sweaty ranch hands, sure. Hay bales ‘n horses, odd but I kinda get it. Lil bit of a tangle with a bridle, I mean who hasn’t right? Hand holdin’ just wasn’t something I expected to be adding to the list of things that get you off.”
Aziraphale settled. “You’ve got a list?”
“Sure do. Like watchin’ you get off, intend to keep makin’ it happen.”
Aziraphale smiled softly. “Same.”
Crowley stared at him, his eyes flicked down to Aziraphale’s mouth, puffy and reddened, the evidence of Crowley’s enjoyment drying gradually. “Aziraphale…” he murmured, his hand reaching up to brush a thumb over Aziraphale’s bottom lip, pulling it down gently. “Can I…?” Crowley drifted closer, their noses bumping.
Aziraphale huffed out a soft laugh, “After everything we’ve done you’re asking whether you can kiss me?”
Crowley’s lips curved up, it was a bit ridiculous. “I dunno, felt like a line or somethin’.”
“Crowley,” Aziraphale said quietly, his hands landing firmly on Crowley’s waist. “You can kiss me.”
So Crowley did. He pressed his lips onto Aziraphale’s, tasted himself and pressed harder. He felt Aziraphale’s hand skirt up his side and tug him closer. He leant in, running his hands over Aziraphale’s bare chest and up his neck to tangle in the short damp strands of hair.
Aziraphale opened his mouth, humming softly and encouraged Crowley’s tongue to play with his for a brief moment before he broke away, breath heavy again.
“Mmmm.” Aziraphale said, pressing his lips softly into Crowley’s jaw, almost as an afterthought, “Please, feel free to do that again, whenever you want.”
Crowley laughed and pressed a brief kiss onto Aziraphale’s lips. “Noted, for now though, probably best to get ya up and dressed.” He stood up and held a hand out to help Aziraphale up.
Aziraphale took it and winced, hopping on one foot then the other as the blood flooded back into his feet, he grimaced and Crowley raised an eyebrow, “Told ya.”
“Yes, the lack of underwear isn’t helping much either.”
Crowley grinned, “Maybe a shower before that corporate party shows up and needs welcomin’.”
“Ugh.” Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “Yes, absolutely. They’re going to be a nightmare, I can already tell. I tried to cancel the booking as soon as I saw it but I couldn’t see any wiggle room from what the previous owner had done. I can’t stand corporate parties, they’re always so rude , they shan’t be coming back.”
Crowley’s grin had only grown wider as Aziraphale ranted. “Well you won’t get any complaints from the staff, we always hated them. ‘Sides gonna be hard to ‘bump’ into you with loads of nosy uptight guests around the place.” He waggled his eyebrows, “Been a long two weeks, gonna be another long week with this lot around.”
Aziraphale turned to unhook his shirt and shrug it back onto his shoulders. “Crowley…” he said hesitantly, “You have my number, you used it before.”
Crowley paused, pulling on his own shirt. “Yeah?” He asked warily.
“You can use it again.” Aziraphale pulled the suspender straps back up over his shoulders and looked at him meaningfully and chewed on his lip, darting in and pressing a quick kiss on Crowley’s lips before turning and striding out of the barn.
“Fuck.” Crowley said after a long minute.
Well.
That was a thing.