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The Angel had been eyeing up the demon all day and had tried what seemed to him like a million different ways to get a lead in, to start something between them. Crowley had seemed determined to be completely oblivious to his flirting, even though Aziraphale had caught him gazing at him several times, as he was generally wont to do. He didn’t think he was ignoring him, it was just Crowley being…Crowley.
Time to up the ante, thought the angel.
They were currently walking through Tadfield Manor, former home of the convent hospital where the Antichrist switch had happened 11 years ago. They were trying to find out if there had possibly been a mix-up in the baby switch.
Most readers will probably be familiar with the current use of the Manor, but briefly it was being used as a conference and management training centre, for promoting team building and leadership potential within companies.
Aziraphale had given it his all over the paint stain on his jacket, giving the demon his best puppy dog eyes in order to get him to remove the stain. And after the demon had given him his biggest and poutiest pout, that is exactly what happened and he thought there we go, that should do it! But nothing happened.
Aziraphale smiled devastatingly at him in return and said, “Oh, thank you,” thinking it would result in them coming together for a kiss…but again nothing. I must be losing my touch, thought the angel, a smidge morosely.
Then, demonically, Crowley had given the corporate business types at the Manor *real* guns which is what they wanted but amazingly! They all had miraculous escapes. Aziraphale thought, ok, thank you dearest, let’s give this another whirl!
“You know Crowley, I’ve always said that deep down, you really are quite a nice-”
And that was as far as he got because a split second later, Crowley had bunched up the lapels of the angel’s coat and shoved him backwards into the wall, his snarling face right up in the angel’s totally unmoved face.
Ah! There you are! thought the angel.
“Shut it! I’m a demon! I’m not nice! I’m never nice! *Nice* is a four-letter word! I will not-” and that was as far as *he* got because they were interrupted by a woman dressed in a business suit and a short dark, sleek hair-do who said, “Excuse me gentlemen, sorry to break up an intimate moment, can I help you?”
They both turned their heads to look at her, unfazed, but they didn’t move from their position against the wall.
“You!” said Crowley
“Demons preserve us, it’s Master Crowley!” said the woman, panicking and backing away.
“Crowley, would you be so kind as to…”
“On it,” said the demon, for once with the program. He clicked his fingers and time stopped. The woman froze.
“Ahh,” sighed the angel, pushing himself slightly forwards and making the demon back up a tad. Crowley still had one hand on the angel’s lapel, having removed the other to snap his fingers.
“Where’d you think you’re going?” he asked in surprise, turning to look at him as he brought his other hand back up to grab the recently released lapel. Pushing him back against the wall once more, he growled “*You* called me Nice!”
“Well, I had to get your attention somehow, my dear. I’ve been trying all day.”
“What for? I’ve been with you all day…you had my attention!”
“Hmm, well not really, not for what *I* had in mind,” he replied looking into his eyes through the lenses of his sunglasses.
“Ah, I see,” said the demon, his voice and face instantly both smiling and suave, as his body pushed him harder into the wall. “And what, exactly, is it that you think you’re going to do next? I have the upper hand here. And there’s still the matter of you calling me *Nice*.”
“Yes, well I’ve explained that haven’t I? And we don’t have to stay up against this wall you know, we could find somewhere more comfortable.”
“You want to be comfortable while I bring down my terrible demonic wrath upon you?” asked Crowley. “Wouldn’t you rather just get it over with here, against this wall?”
“Oh, is that what we’re calling it these days? ‘Terrible demonic wrath’?” said the angel sweetly, looking innocently at him and making the demon blush. “There’s nothing you could do to me that I would want to *just get it over with*, up against a wall or otherwise.”
“That’s not…I didn’t mean, look – oh blast it, I thought you meant…wrestling…or something…” he trailed off, embarrassed.
“Well, we haven’t done that in a while…could be fun, but maybe another time.”
Bobbing his head forward, Aziraphale stole a kiss from the demon’s very inviting lips and said placatingly, “Of course I know what you meant. I love to tease, see you get flustered and go all pink. There’s no malice involved. I do it for my own gratification.”
“Still gonna bring down all my demonic wrath,” muttered the demon, looking him in the eye.
“And I shall do nothing to stop you because I’ll be too busy being terrified of your mighty demonic unstoppable terror!” said the young heroine in imminent danger.
Crowley closed the gap again and kissed the angel as if making some proprietary demonstration. The angel was squirming and writhing under his hands.
“Mr Crowley!” he squawked, when he was allowed to get his breath, “what do you take me for?! Trying to seduce a young, innocent (snort of derision from the demon) innocent,” carried on Aziraphale trying to ignore the laughter, “young…er…nope, train of thought gone. Kiss me again!”
“You’re not in a position to tell me what to do,” said the demon, after kissing him soundly. “I have you at a disadvantage. And I intend to make the most of it,” he said, asserting his authority. Not something he did very often between the two of them; it didn’t come naturally to him, but he liked to try now and then when the situation presented itself. “Now, if I let go, you’re not going to try and run away or start screaming your pretty little head off, are you? Because I might be forced to tie you up if so.”
Too late, he realised what he had just said because before he knew it they were at the bookshop, inside Aziraphale’s bedroom. Where there happened to be a large black, ornate metal bedframe. Perfect for the use of tying someone to it.
“Well, that escalated quickly,” said the demon in a bemused tone, letting go of the angel.
“I don’t hang about – now, where would you like me?” enquired Aziraphale politely.
“Could you not…be so eager about it…I mean, it’s hard for me to be all…bossy…if you’re just going to acquiesce all the time. I’m not sure I’m very good at this,” he said, the last sentence coming out very quietly.
“Dearest,” said Aziraphale quickly taking his hands “you don’t have to if it makes you feel uncomfortable. It’s just that back there, you came over all masterful and, well, poor little old me” he flapped a hand in front in his face, as if to fan himself as he rolled his eyes, “I just swear I didn’t know what to do, my knees went weak and if you hadn’t been holding me up-”
Crowley grabbed him bodily by the lapels again, bringing him close. “Carry on like that and I will give you something to *really* make your knees go weak, angel” he said in a low sultry voice that he didn’t use often enough, in the angel’s opinion. Thrilled, the angel let out a little gasp, feeling a genuine frisson of excitement. “In fact, that’s exactly what I intend to do,” said Crowley.
Aziraphale had about a second or two to stare into those golden-amber slit-pupiled eyes before he found himself arranged on his back on the bed, sans overcoat and shoes, arms up above his head and wrists firmly secured to the metal bedhead. The bindings felt pleasantly warm on his wrists and were…moving? He glanced up either side and saw that securing his wrists were two long, slim black and red snakes, wrapped around his wrists and the bars of the bedframe.
“I didn’t know you could do that!” he said in breathless admiration.
“Don’t tell you everything, do I…like to keep some surprises up my sleeve.”
Aziraphale was about to ask if they were real, when Crowley said “they’re an extension of me, if you like. Personally devised by yours truly, exclusively for you, angel. Comfortable?” he enquired.
“Ah, you keep the handcuffs and silk ties for the other floozies you knock around with, I suppose. Poor little old me,” he said sadly and then, “Yes, thank you my love, very. And they are beautiful!”
“Handcuffs-” squeaked the demon, blushing again and then he cleared his throat. “Yeah, you’re just my number for today,” he said as airily as he could manage. “Tomorrow, it’ll be someone else…some other gorgeous blond, plush looking angel that I have my eye on. I’m very much in demand you know. In fact, you’re lucky I’m here at all.”
“Oh…I am very lucky…I do know that” breathed the angel, and his bluey-green eyes sparkled with excitement and lust.
Crowley, emboldened by what he saw in the angel’s eyes, took off his sunglasses and started to unbutton his shirt cuffs, making a show of rolling his sleeves up and then unbuttoning his shirt halfway and stopping. Glancing at the angel as he did so, he noticed that his eyes were locked intently onto what his hands were doing. And, letting his eyes wander down the angel’s body, he also noticed something else of interest.
“Well, well, not so innocent as you claim to be, are you wench?” he said to the angel.
“Um” said Aziraphale, for once lost for words. He’d never really watched Crowley roll his shirt sleeves up or unbutton his shirt before, that he could recall, and it was…hot. Those elegant hands moving so delicately...long fingers picking deftly at buttons. He loved Crowley's hands. What else could those elegant hands do, if they were let loose upon the angel's body? He could see tantalising glimpses of his chest where the shirt kept moving…a hint of a nipple that was driving him wild. Suddenly, he wished to be free from his bonds so that he could…well, yes, we’ll get to that in a minute or two, he thought.
“Set me free!” he pleaded squirming against his snake bonds. “I need to have you in my hands, Crowley,” he said urgently.
“Uh…no,” said the demon. “You haven't even been there five minutes yet. Wrestle all you want with those snakes, you aren’t getting free anytime soon. Go on, I’ll make myself comfy shall I, until you get bored.” He sat down on the corner of the bed, leaning back against the metal footboard and crossing arms and legs comfortably whilst watching the angel’s struggles. He found he was actually quite enjoying himself, watching the angel’s antics, pleading with the snake bonds to let him go. He wasn’t in any real distress; he just wanted to be sat where Crowley was and for Crowley to be in his position on the bed. But he was going to have to learn that right now, Mr Anthony J Crowley was calling the shots.
He feigned a yawn and looked at his watch pointlessly, as there was no time at the moment, and then looked at the angel. “Are you done?” he asked.
“Anthony J-” started the Angel in a commanding voice but Crowley just said “Nope. We’re not doing that right now, we’re doing what I want.”
“Oh,” came the breathy sigh in response.
Crowley got up on the bed and he straddled the angel. “You look different from up here,” he said, “all laid out in front of me in a neatly wrapped saucy package and you look…helplesssss…” he smiled, and his inner snake demon started to wake up and take an interest.
Aziraphale had a mental image flashback, way back to the time they were in the Land of Uz together. He hadn’t seen that *really* hungry look on Crowley’s face for quite some time, and that was where it had been born. Had it been that long? Far too long, he thought. I am a headstrong, greedy and selfish angel and I always want things my own way. He had taught the demon a lot that night, the night of the fire at Job’s house, about love and sex. And the demon had been an extraordinarily quick learner.
Studying Aziraphale’s face, the demon said, “You’re thinking about Uz. I know you are, because I am too. I can see it in your face. Did I pleassssse you that night, angel?” he hissed.
“Oh yes, you did, many times, over and over…”
“Want me to do it again?” he said asked casually. Frantic nodding from Aziraphale who then remembered to speak and said, “Oh yes, please!”
Crowley leaned forward to the angel’s fussy bowtie, breathing in deeply the smell of him and the closeness of that tantalising neck and pulled at the tie with his teeth. The angel whimpered and said “Crowley, I don’t think it-”, but with a bit of demonic persuasion it saw sense and let itself unravel, gripped between the demon’s teeth as he sat upright, bringing the bowtie with him. He whizzed it away into a corner of the room and slid his hands to the buttons on the angel’s waistcoat and shirt, pulling his shirt out of his pants waistband. He moved from waist to neck, unbuttoning, slowly and unhurriedly, long, slender fingers brushing skin, which made the angel’s body shiver whenever contact was made.
“Crowley, I really think-” interrupted the angel and Crowley put a single finger to his lips to quieten him.
“Hush, darling” he said. “Daddy’s working,” which turned the angel into a writhing mess.
He pushed the fabric aside and looked at the angel’s chest, which was rising and falling hard, covered in sparse white-blond curls with stiff rose-pink coloured nipples. “Ssssssssssooo deliciousssssss,” he hissed, and his tongue forked and flicked in and out lazily, taking in the smell and the taste of the angel time and again. He took a nipple in his mouth, sucking gently and then harder, teasing his tongue over it and enjoying the noises that Aziraphale was making. They were exactly the same noises he made when he was eating.
Only louder. Much louder.
“Crowley, I need to touch you,” said the angel urgently.
“No, you don’t, not yet anyway. You just need to lie back and do as I tell you.” He leaned down to kiss the angel, his tongue taking control of the angel’s mouth, sucking his lips and tongue and it felt to the angel that he was a step behind all the time, trying to keep up with the demon kissing him. He wasn’t used to this…but oh! How he liked it.
“Now,” said Crowley, “you kiss me, and you’d better make it a good one.” The angel kissed him, messily and greedily and very eager to please, as if his very corporation depended on it. Without having his hands to caress the demon, he had to pour everything he had into those kisses.
When Crowley eventually pulled away, they were both breathless. “Wow,” said the demon, and then again, “Wow! Well, for that quite extraordinary kissing, I have a reward for you, if you want it.” He looked at Aziraphale, who was very wide-eyed and nodding yes at him.
“Have I ever properly shown you my fangs?” enquired Crowley. “I don’t think I have, have I? 6,000 years and I’ve never really shown you my fangs. I don’t often wear them in human form, but…” he concentrated for a second or two and then smiled at the angel, who gasped at the sight of two very long, sharp and very solid looking fangs, a forked tongue and those gold-amber eyes with their slit pupils. That vision alone might have sent a mere mortal fleeing in screaming terror; but to him it was absolute, sheer heart-stopping beauty. Damn it all if he didn’t feel blessed, which was ironic. He also felt that he might get eaten alive.
“I think I’m going to discorporate,” he said and Crowley laughed.
“No, you’re not, but you will be unravelling very fast, that I can promise you.” What’s happened to me, thought Crowley, I’m not usually like this. Hi, said a voice in his head, remember me? Your inner Sssssnek? You don’t let me out very often but you have now and Ima make the most of it, it grinned evilly. Okaaay, said Crowley…just don’t bite him, ok? Well, just a little nibble then, but very gently mind!
Turning his attention back to the angel, he tracked his way from nipple to nipple, scoring the skin ever so gently with his fangs. Flicking with his snake tongue and then applying his human tongue to lavishly lick trails, kissing as he went. The angel was moving about a lot but trying not to buck too much because he was watching those fangs…good grief, but that was a sensation he would never, ever get tired of!
Crowley nuzzled into the angel’s neck just below his ear, licking the sensitive skin there. “How am I doing?” he asked. “Tell me how much you’re enjoying my fangs, angel,” he murmured.
“I…ahhh…I…you…ahhhhh…”
“That good, eh?” said Crowley, pleased.
“Crowley, do you want to bite me?” whispered the angel, unexpectedly.
“What?” said Crowley, stopped in his tracks enough to sit up.
“Would you like to bite me?” asked Aziraphale again, in a breathy whisper.
“I’m not a vampire, Aziraphale,” said Crowley.
“No, but it occurs to me that the snake might…like a little bite,” he said. “I’m willing to allow that.”
The snake within Crowley was currently thrashing about and throwing itself around, while a voice in his head hissed violently LET ME BITE HIM!
No, said Crowley sternly, we learned a long time ago that the angel is not for eating, not in that sense, anyway. Just a little prick, said the voice again. Speak for yourself, Crowley replied.
Well...
“Are you sure, angel?” asked Crowley quietly.
“Quite sure,” was the breathless response.
Crowley nuzzled up to the angel’s neck, mouthing at his skin and getting his fangs in a suitable place. Being an angel, even though he had a human body, Aziraphale could control certain things – blood flow for example. The same applied to Crowley. Rudimentary control only, but this came in totally handy when directing blood to or away from certain areas. So, when Crowley gently but firmly sank his fangs into the angel’s neck, there was no blood.
What there was, however, were ecstatic groans and whimpers. Crowley gave a few experimental sucks at the angel’s neck and oh! How glorious was the taste of his angel! Not blood or anything as obvious as that, but the taste of his essence – merely hinted at by smell alone, and his snake senses were working overtime! It was absolutely and literally divine! Surely, he wasn’t worthy of this, was he? He couldn’t be! But Aziraphale seemed to think he was, because here they were – doing this.
Suddenly, he wanted to cry. He stayed in place for a few minutes, trying to control himself and, not wanting to overdo it for either of them, he carefully withdrew his fangs.
Touching the angel’s neck with a finger and dispensing a little demonic essence to ensure that there was no pain, and definitely no bleeding, he asked “Angel, you ok?”, trying to keep his voice normal.
“Oh…it was…absolutely….just…I can’t even begin to tell you!” And then quickly “Darling, what’s wrong?” Aziraphale saw a tear running down the demon’s cheek. “Oh Crowley…I’m sorry. Was it too much?” he asked.
Drawing in some shaky breaths and ending with a deep one, he said “No, I’m fine…just, you know, you taste so good and I’m not-”
“Anthony J Crowley, you listen to me!” said the angel, realising immediately what the problem was. “If anyone is not worthy, it’s me. I try my best to live up to your standards and find myself constantly wanting. So please, my love, stop. You deserve all the best things I can possibly give you, especially and including those things that are mine alone to give. And I give them freely to you.”
“Oh,” said Crowley in a very small voice and he really wanted to cry buckets now, with the gratitude he felt for Aziraphale (not consciously recognising or realising there was a heck of an amount of love wrapped up in there too); but he swallowed hard and said weakly “Ok. Thank you, angel” muffled against his neck once again. “But…um…I may have left a mark, I’m so sorry…want me to hide it?”
“Certainly not! You could hardly bite and *not* leave a mark, could you? It’s my badge of honour!”
So, the marks stayed, just above where his collar line would be. Two red pinpricks of love and lust marked the angel’s neck and they clearly said *To Whomever It So Concerneth This Angel Belongs To Anthony J Crowley, So Very Fuck Off. Thank You.*
Crowley sat up and realised he was neglecting something. He slipped a hand down to the angel's growing bulge and rubbed him through the fabric of his trousers. He popped open his fly and released him, to a chorus of moans and sighs from the angel. Deciding to dispense with their clothes completely, he snapped his fingers. He gazed greedily at the sight in front of him and then fell upon the angel, once more using his teeth to such effect that he thought they were going to levitate off the bed; which they probably would have but for Aziraphale’s sneky bindings.
Pushing the angel’s shapely legs up and apart, he slid his hand between his cheeks and played with him in that sweet, sweet place, gently opening him up with his fingers.
“Crowley,” said the angel desperately, “please would you come here, darling,” and he obligingly moved up the bed to the angel’s head. “You are amazing my love and as much as I would like you to carry on, I really need to take over now. Would you allow me to do that? I need to feel you under me.”
The demon studied his face for a second or two, found no lie there and realised that as much as he had enjoyed his part so far, he really did like it when Aziraphale orchestrated their moves.
What Aziraphale wanted...
Kissing him deeply, one last parting shot at controlling the angel's mouth, he said, “Your wish is my command,” and the snake bindings disappeared.
“Oh, I am going to hold you to that one dearest,” said the angel, with a shaky chuckle. Deftly, he had hold of the demon and flipped him over, laying him down on the bed. He wasted no time in lowering himself onto him, making them both gasp in unison.
Leaning forward, he peppered Crowley’s face with kisses, words punctuating his actions and his hands trying to feel all of the demon at once, never keeping still. “You didn’t mind did you, my sweet, it’s just that I really, really needed to have you where I can hold you. But I give you full dispensation to behave like that again…those fangs of yours…I just…” and he trailed off into a moan.
Matching the angel’s moans with his own and with his hands in is hair, Crowley gently brought the angel’s head down to his and kissed him again. “Nope, didn’t mind at all. Being masterful takes it out of a chap and I figured it was high time that you did some of the heavy lifting and stopped being a Pillow Princess…” he said trailing off into another kiss.
The response he got was harder and faster movement from the angel, making him gasp and thrust upwards just as hard and fast.
“Call me a Pillow Princess would you!” growled Aziraphale, in that low sexy, cultivated voice he sometimes used. “That’s your job my sweet, and I’m not about to relieve you of that position. I need to have you right where I can lay my hands on you at all times,” he ground out, bearing down harder on the demon who was just as eagerly thrusting up to meet him.
Crowley pushed down a hand between them to find the angel hard, hot and heavy and very ready for him. He pumped him in time to the angel’s urgent motions until they both came together, collapsing in a hot, sticky, sweaty heap.
They lay in each other’s arms, for a while, lazily caressing and playing with each other, swapping slow kisses.
"Crowley," said the angel eventually, " I feel I should apologise for something. I think I have just been unnecessarily needy, wanting to have access to you all the time. That was very selfish of me. Being incapacitated as I was, seemed to bring out the neediness in me...I shouldn't like you to think that I wasn't considering your needs, although you did seem to have astonishing control over the situation and perfectly capable of fulfilling those needs perfectly. However, that said, I did very much enjoy it. But I do apologise if I was too much."
Mulling this little speech over, Crowley said "Is this your way of saying that you really wanted to jump me when I tied you up, but that you really enjoyed it and can we do it again, sometime?"
Whatever response the angel was going to give, Crowley didn't give him a chance. A last, little dominant kissing session wasn't going to hurt anything and it left Aziraphale gasping for breath, which was music to the demon's ears.
“Well,” sighed the demon eventually, “I spose we’d better get back to whatever we were doing before, I guess,” he said, sounding extremely reluctant. “What *were* we doing Azirahale?”
“Yes, well, I supp- Oh my goodness!” exclaimed the angel, sitting up. “We’ve left that poor woman stood there and everyone else in the world frozen! No time to dress the human way,” and he waved a hand.
“You’re no fun, I was looking forward to helping you” muttered the demon.
“Darling, do stop pouting,” said the angel, grabbing his face and kissing him. “You know very well as much as I do, that bed won’t be allowed to cool down before we’re back in it again. Now come on, spit spot! Jolly hockey sticks and all that, do get a wriggle on!”
“Angel, keep talking like that and we *will* be back in your bed anytime now,” said the demon, his eyes sparkling again.
The angel gave him a sideways look and said quietly, “Oh…blast…might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb then!”
“Baaaaa” bleated Crowley. And he found himself reclining naked on the bed, with slender golden ropes around his wrists, securing him to the black metal bed frame.
“My turn,” said Aziraphale, walking to the bed. He was still fully clothed and had an extremely wicked glint in his eye, which made Crowley’s whole body shiver in delicious anticipation.
And there we must leave them, dear readers because if I know them, and I do, they’ll be there for a good long while yet.
Whoever said “time and tide wait for no man” had clearly never met Aziraphale and Crowley.
The End