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Wrestling With Your Demon by kitkatkelly
Fandoms: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
12 Oct 2024
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Summary
“What the—Aziraphale!” Crowley gangled along after him down the halls through the flat, all limbs and protests, still holding a glass of wine that by now was fairly desperate to spill. “This is my flat, you can’t just—angel!”
Aziraphale ignored all of this, dragging Crowley up to what was, indeed, a statue. In the darkness of the flat’s corridor, he still couldn’t make it out very well, but there was that feeling again. “Can’t you feel that? It’s practically oozing with innit, im—intimi—"
“Intimidation,” Crowley said, nodding and sipping his wine. “That’s why I picked it. Yep.”
“No, you silly old serpent!” Aziraphale took in a breath and screwed his eyes shut, concentrating until his formidable brain slowed its drunken spin. “It’s intimacy.”
Crowley choked.
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In Crowley's flat after Armageddidn't, Aziraphale sees a certain statue, and gets certain ideas.
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Work/Series Details
Wrestling With Your Demon by kitkatkelly
Published: 2024-10-12
Work/Series ID: 59699041Relationship Tags:
Additional Tags:
He/Him Pronouns For Aziraphale (Good Omens), He/Him Pronouns For Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Explicit Sexual Content, Frottage, Blow Jobs, First Time, making the old men fuck on the floor, Crowley's Wrestling Statue (Good Omens), the statue is a wingman, Literally And Figuratively, the mortifying ordeal of being known as anthony j crowley, Author is Open to Hearing about Dead Batteries, Happy Ending
Work/Series Summary:
“What the—Aziraphale!” Crowley gangled along after him down the halls through the flat, all limbs and protests, still holding a glass of wine that by now was fairly desperate to spill. “This is my flat, you can’t just—angel!”
Aziraphale ignored all of this, dragging Crowley up to what was, indeed, a statue. In the darkness of the flat’s corridor, he still couldn’t make it out very well, but there was that feeling again. “Can’t you feel that? It’s practically oozing with innit, im—intimi—"
“Intimidation,” Crowley said, nodding and sipping his wine. “That’s why I picked it. Yep.”
“No, you silly old serpent!” Aziraphale took in a breath and screwed his eyes shut, concentrating until his formidable brain slowed its drunken spin. “It’s intimacy.”
Crowley choked.
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In Crowley's flat after Armageddidn't, Aziraphale sees a certain statue, and gets certain ideas.
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