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Aziraphale watched the black SUV come up the driveway, a hand sheltering his eyes. Little Warlock sprang out of the back and raced around the car to hold the door open for the other passenger. This was an unusual display of manners for the young child so Aziraphale knew it could only be for his formidable nanny.
Aziraphale had thought that he would miss the tight jeans that had become a staple in Crowley’s wardrobe but the black dress suited the demon well. The thought of how easy it would be to draw his hand up Crowley’s thighs and grasp what was between his legs was a common fantasy of his. Especially since he knew what lay there, binding the other entity to him in an unbelievable way. His fingers instinctively rested on a small key on his key ring as desire crept between his own legs.
Crowley’s head turned to see Aziraphale’s shaded eyes and gestured quickly with one hand before Warlock grabbed the other to tug the demon into the house. The hand movement was one he had seen often since they had taken up their posts and began this strange, delicious new arrangement. The agreement that was meant to keep their corporations lust for the other at bay. “Tonight,” it read.
That night, Crowley took a page from Mary Poppins and made sure to give Warlock a little extra medication with his nightly vitamins. He figured a little antihistamine wouldn’t hurt any child, much less the antichrist child, and it would keep him sleeping soundly. Last time, Crowley had returned to the boy wandering the hallway, looking for his nanny after a bad nightmare. 1
The demon slipped quietly through the house and onto the grounds, settling on a park bench near the gardener's cottage. Trying to look the picture of serenity, he waited for the last of the bedroom lights in the main house to turn off before going to Aziraphale’s door.
A bit of magic had made it so that any human who entered the door would find a small one room affair with a door to an even smaller bathroom next to the stove. For Aziraphale and Crowley, it could also lead to the Soho bookshop. Aziraphale had set it up so he would not be parted from his books for the length of time their current assignment required. It had also become a safe place to go for their frequent trysts.
Crowley breathed in the scent of plants and fresh earth that mixed with the familiar smells of the bookshop. The ache that was rarely vacant anymore flared and his cock strained against the cage, pushing the fucking contraption away from his body. He leaned against the door for a moment to get his bearings, fighting his corporation’s natural urge to breathe deep. Aziraphale’s smell had always sent blood rushing downwards but with the additional smell of a well-tended garden it had become much worse. This was not going to be an easy night for him, not that many were.
This agreement was meant to make his damn corporation remain quiet. The more time he spent as a human around Aziraphale, the more his body responded to it. Even banishing the effort completely had only banished the outward representation and the lust had remained without an outlet.
He had thought that keeping himself locked up would help and in a way it did. He no longer had to worry about his corporation giving away the lust he often felt. Inwardly though, it just made the problem worse as it became a constant reminder of the angel. In return for guarding his key for him2, Crowley had offered to slake the physical response of Aziraphale’s corporation. The plan had been formed on a drunken night and had proved heavily flawed in his case. It seemed to work well for Aziraphale though and in the end, that was the important part.
Having heard him come in, Aziraphale had put his book down and turned off the light, trying to keep things from being too personal for both their sakes. He didn’t have to wait long before he felt long fingers brush against the zipper of his pants and felt breath on his neck.
“Anything ssspecial tonight, Angel?” Crowley whispered in his ear, licking the sensitive area behind his earlobe with a forked tongue. The soft tongue sent shivers through the angel’s nervous system.
“No, just need a little relief, my dear. You know what seeing you in that handsome dress does to my corporation.”
“Asss you wish.” He gave another lick before dipping his head down to kiss the zipper. He then worked slowly, trailing soft kisses up one side of the angel's thighs and down the other. Aziraphale’s corporation responded quickly to the ministrations and the slight bulge on the side of Crowley’s face grew as the demon worked.
Corwley unbuttoned his trousers with his tongue and took the zipper in his teeth and slowly pulled it down. Aziraphale let out an ever so soft groan through clenched teeth. He knew he had to be careful to be quiet, knowing the demon’s dislike of the noises that reminded him of who he was servicing.
Unknown to him, Crowley pressed his hand uselessly against the metal his cock was trapped in, trying not to wince in pent up lust. He wished he could use more than just his mouth to please the Angel but that tonight was not about that. He needed to focus on Aziraphale’s need tonight and try to ignore his own. He delicately unfolded the top flaps of Aziraphales trousers with the other hand and used his long reptilian tongue to slip in and down, grasping the angel’s mostly hard cock and bringing it up against his stomach.
Aziraphale sighed and gripped the arms of the chair hard. He appreciated the demon’s help. He wasn’t aware that Crowley’s loved his noises but that they made the loop of pressure and pleasure much harder to manage. He couldn’t see the demon’s hand tighten uselessly around the cage under his skirts at the slightest noise from him.
Crowley carefully pulled down the top of Aziraphales pants and trousers, Aziraphale shifting so they could slip a small way down his ample thighs. Crowley stared for a moment with longing and appreciation at the large member in front of him before dragging one finger from the tip down, letting his tongue caress the slit. He wrapped his forefinger and thumb firmly around the wide base of the angel’s cock while his tongue traced a circle around the glans, tasting the precum that was slowly dripping from it.
Aziraphale leaned forward, stopping his head inches away from Crowley’s soft curls. Keep it impersonal, he reminded himself. Instead, he allowed his hand to card through the demon's hair a few times before scratching the nape of his neck. Crowley paused for a second as the sweetness of the sensation warmed his chest, his eyes closed. He stretched his neck in a circle, his hand staying where it rested on the base of Aziraphale’s erection. Aziraphale bit back a whine at the loss of the tongue.
Crowley’s concentration snapped back to the present after a moment and he slid his tongue around Azirapahle’s cock, wrapping around it tightly. When it got to the base, his mouth followed, taking the whole thing from tip to root. Aziraphale moaned deeply, unknowingly sending waves of lust straight through the demon's body.
Crowley, suddenly tense, took his mouth off his cock and Azriaphale’s hips momentarily tried to follow the warmth and the second loss of sensation. Crowley let his forehead rest on the Angel’s knee, trying to slow both his lungs and his heart. He was trying not to let Aziraphale know how deeply this affected him, for fear that he would put an end to it both tonight and future occasions. But it was impossible when the Angel moaned like that. In the darkened room, he could pretend that it was somebody different but any vocalizations on Aziraphale’s part shattered the illusion. His cock strained uselessly against its cage. The delicious pressure of it and the firm tug at his balls creating a feedback loop of pleasure that pulsed heavily with every heartbeat.
“Sorry, my boy. Your mouth is just beyond words,” Aziraphale whispered.
“Not helping, Angel. Just give me a moment.”
After a few long seconds, Crowley picked up where he had left off and Aziraphale bit his lip hard at the feeling of having his whole cock swallowed again in Crowley’s beautiful, warm mouth. He could already feel the orgasm building in him as Crowley sucked deeply while his tongue caressed the length of him. He began bucking slightly into the warm and wet orifice, delighting at how deep Crowley could take him.
His legs spread wider as Crowley moved his hand behind Aziraphale’s cock to fondle his balls. Crowley tried desperately to ignore the soft moans Aziraphale couldn’t keep contained, his own hand having drifted into his skirts to caress his own bollocks and whatever part of his cock he could get to through the bars of the cage holding it.
Hell might think it had figured out all forms of torture but this was worse than the so-called genius ideas his coworkers had dreamed up. The slight pain he felt between his legs fueled his desire instead of lessening it. He hummed, letting out what little frustration he could as his mouth and head worked over Aziraphale’s erection but the increasing of Aziraphale’s moaning just brought the frustration back to him.
After what seemed like long, amazing hours, Aziraphale slammed his hips into Crowley’s mouth and came down his throat. Crowley swallowed it greedily. What he had once considered a too tart, salty taste that always left a foul aftertaste had become a craving that was never slated. He worked him through the aftershocks until Aziraphale delicately pulled his head back by his hair. “Thank you, Crowley. That was magnificent, you are magnificent.”
Crowley removed his hand from his skirts as he rested his cheek against the Angel’s thighs, memorizing the smell of the angel and the taste on his tongue. After a few minutes, he kissed the inside of Aziraphale’s thigh and stood up. “Better?
“Yes, my dear boy, completely. Thank you.” Aziraphale looked at him, intent on seeing Crowley’s eyes, but he had already placed the sunglasses back on his face to hide any truth that lay there. “Do you want your key tonight?”
“No. I have to attend a bloody meeting this weekend. Next Monday alright?”
“Of course. I’ll see you soon.”
“Goodnight, then, Angel. See you in the morning.”
Crowley licked his lips to remove any leftover traces of Aziraphale’s cum before leaving as quietly as he had come. The truth that Crowley was hiding behind the sunglasses was how much worse this made his lust. That it was nearly impossible to bear. The truth that Crowley didn’t care how much harder it left him, how much more desperate for release it made him. The truth that despite its original intention to keep his sexual thoughts at bay, it kept his cock slightly aroused even on the best of days. And the hardest truth of all, that it wasn’t just his corporation that desperately wanted more from Aziraphale but his own true self, demon and all.
He walked out of the bookshelf, hoping the lack of lighting hid his disjointed swagger. The door opened onto the streets of Soho where his Bentley had been parked much of the last few years. He left London at 90 miles per hour and floored it as soon as he got out of the city. Driving almost 200 miles per hour through the countryside had become the only thing that got his mind off of the pressure between his legs as his cock begged and screamed for release from its jail cell and its forced chastity. Crowley knew if Aziraphale knew the truth, the brief spots of intimacy in his life between the two of them would cease. That was something he would fall a thousand times over to prevent. Week three was almost over with and he would get the key back for a few days next week. This time was longer than usual since he wanted to remain “undistracted” until after he checked in with hell.
Back at the bookshop, Aziraphale tried to fool himself into thinking he would be able to read again as the entire evening replayed on loop through his head. The feeling of Crowley’s tongue on his ear, head against his knee, his hair running through his hands, and that quick kiss on his thigh at the end that he desperately wished had been on his lips instead. Crowley’s technique was beyond measure and his corporation had enjoyed every second of the demon’s ministrations but his essence pinned for more intimacy than that of a blowjob.
Not that he would ever tell Crowley, of course. Nor would he ever admit that soon, maybe in an hour or two, he would use his own hands to repeat the process on himself not fantasizing so much about his mouth on his cock again but on Crowley’s lips kissing his own, kissing his cheeks, and trailing even more kisses down his neck. That knowledge would scare the demon away and make the friendship they had built through the years too awkward to bear. Silence on his part was the best course of action. He had to be content with what he already had.
1. Why the antichrist would be scared by nightmares was beyond him return to text
2. Holding his own key had proved useless return to text