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All My Dreams

Chapter Text

In hindsight, Aziraphale should have known that it would come to this. He was the one who made the suggestion to go out for that night, which even took Crowley by surprise for a moment. Usually it was the other way around, with Crowley trying to sidle Aziraphale into an agreement to go out for what felt like centuries now. But what with all of that nonsense a few months ago, The Apocalypse that wasn't so much of an Apocalypse but rather more of a Series Of Events That Led To The World Being Saved of all things, things had changed quite a lot.

Heaven had stopped checking in on Aziraphale now, but that was a given. Crowley's dramaticism and scene he caused up Above had probably scared them off for at least a while. And his own antics down Below had ensured Hell's distance. They were free from their respective side's influence now, and could pretty much do as they pleased. They were cast out, abandoned so to speak. Although Aziraphale tried to avoid thinking about it in those terms. He had chosen his outcome, and he was happy with his decision. He had Crowley now, and nothing could come in between them. They could go wherever they pleased without fear of being seen together now. There was nothing to hide anymore; they could do all of the things that they had missed out on before.

Like having dinner together without the threat of discovery hanging over their heads. Like wandering the streets of London, laughing and talking about practically nothing. There was a sense of ease to them both now that The Apocalypse had 'fizzled out', as it were. Crowley sauntered even more exaggeratedly down the sidewalk (if that was even possible). And Aziraphale found himself swinging his arms and taking larger steps, finally feeling at ease on the planet he had inhabited for over 6000 years now. And he was finally ready to take another step forwards in regards to their relationship. Even if Crowley didn't reciprocate his romantic feelings, Aziraphale was just happy to have him as a friend and confidant.

Needless to say, the dinner was marvelous. Any meal with Crowley present was already enhanced and better than before. But there was something about the way that he watched Aziraphale eat this time, something left unsaid behind those dark glasses of his, that changed the entire energy of the evening. Aziraphale had the feeling that Crowley wanted to say something more than once, as he would straighten up in his seat and take in a deep breath. But as soon as Aziraphale looked up with interest, waiting eagerly for Crowley to finally say what had clearly been on his mind for the longest time, he would clam up and slouch back down. Mutters of annoyance would escape his lips until Aziraphale would offer part of his meal with a,

"Crowley dear, would you like some?"

That almost immediately brightened him up a bit, and he leaned forward imperceptibly. Aziraphale twined a bit of pasta onto his fork and would hold it up for Crowley to eat. He never ordered food for himself, but would often pilfer small portions from Aziraphale's plate when offered. It was almost, well...

It was almost romantic.

Aziraphale found himself nearly blushing at the thought. Perhaps now... Perhaps now that they no longer had Heaven and Hell breathing down their necks, they could finally have moments of peace together. He could gather his feelings up into one neat little package, tied up with a bow. A tartan bow. He could tell Crowley how he felt.

But dinner had to end sometime, and Aziraphale didn't want to keep the poor restaurant open for longer than the owner wished (even though they would if he asked). So he finished his meal and paid, leaving a generous tip as always to the waitstaff. They all waved a fond goodbye to him and Crowley as they exited, an ecstatic grin splitting Aziraphale's face. It was later in the evening; the sun had already set. But there was no hurry to make it back to their respective homes, no looming threat hanging over them.

And so they wandered the streets of Soho aimlessly, letting themselves get lost in the sights and sounds in a way that they had never been able to before. Crowley was smiling a lot more now, Aziraphale noticed. And not the usual wicked smirk, but an actual genuinely happy grin. It was a very welcome change, and Aziraphale could just feel the contentment and ease radiating from his friend. They wandered the streets and eventually ended up at the doors to Aziraphale's bookshop. "Fancy a nightcap then, Crowley?" He asked, holding his arm out in an invitation for him to come into the bookshop.

"Ha! Like I'd ever say no, angel." He replied, a short chuckle escaping his lips as he followed his friend in. There was still a slight anxiety radiating from him, but it was quickly drowned out by other feelings of warmth. It nearly made Aziraphale collapse, knees weak with the strength of Crowley's emotions. Does he have any idea how lovely he feels right now? He asked himself, watching as Crowley sauntered in and made himself at home on the loveseat in the backroom of the shop.

The old thing had appeared when Adam restored his belongings, and Crowley had immediately laid claim on the soft and squishy seats. He was too tall to lay down on it fully, but instead worked around that by flinging his legs of the side of one of the armrests and letting them dangle. Aziraphale had his armchair and desk positioned practically right across from it; they spent many a night drinking and joking in that backroom.

Now when Aziraphale crossed the threshold he realized how warm it was back there. Not in terms of temperature, but rather in soft and caring feelings. The room was absolutely suffused with Crowley, his presence and essence having an astounding effect on the rest of the shop. Said effect was invisible to the naked eye of humans, but ethereal beings like Aziraphale could feel the difference. The shop had been loved before, and loved deeply by himself.

But now there was a whole new type of love immersing itself into the foundations. It seeped into the walls and even the books, filling them up and practically making them glow. And Aziraphale knew that it was all thanks to Crowley's continued presence. He had known for a while that Demons must love, for he could feel it always radiating from Crowley (it just took him a while to realize that it was truly Crowley's feelings and not a particularly smitten human). It was a massive part of their friendship and Aziraphale allowed himself to bask in it from time to time, under the impression that Crowley simply held a lot of care for his friend.

Perhaps it was more than that too.

He uncorked a bottle of wine that he had been saving for a while now, pouring Crowley a generous glass of it and handing it over with a small smile. The Demon sat up in order to properly accept it and twirled the glass a few times, watching the wine funnel and swirl. His sunglasses were still on, which Aziraphale found odd. Crowley usually took them off by now. He also looked a little more morose than usual, opting to just stare at his drink instead of sipping it.

"Are you alright, Crowley? You have been uncharacteristically quiet this evening," Aziraphale said, sitting himself down into his comfortable armchair and fixing him with an inquisitive stare. Crowley's frown deepened just a little bit more and he finally decided to take a languid gulp. "You look like you've received some particularly unpleasant news."

"It's nothing, angel. Nothing that concerns you, that's for sure." Now, Aziraphale may be an Angel and therefore unable to ethereally detect the more negative emotions of humans. But he had been on Earth a long time, and he was able to pick up on other things like body language and other hidden communications. And all signs were pointing to Crowley lying just then. The way his eyes darted away and how his hands fiddled with the stem of his glass. But Aziraphale knew that if Crowley didn't want to talk about something then he could never wheedle the information out of him. The Demon could be particularly stubborn at times, a common characteristic of an immortal being.

"You know that you can talk to me though. If something's wrong maybe I can help." Aziraphale knew it had something to do with him; he could only hope that Crowley was comfortable enough to trust him with the sensitive information.

"Nothing's wrong," Crowley cocked his head and made a little grunting noise, another sure sign of his anxiety. "Just still not used to the whole 'not being welcome in Hell anymore' thing." Aziraphale took that as an opportunity to relate to him.

"Ah yes, I know exactly what you mean. Heaven is usually quite a lot more active in my affairs, and it's taking some getting used to." He leaned back in his winged armchair and poured himself his own glass of wine. "It is a nice change though, isn't it dear? To be like this without worry of them finding out."

"Nghk." Crowley made a choked noise in the back of his throat. "Yeah, it is." He responded after a pause, jerking his head away and focusing back on his drink. "Jus' different." He cleared his throat again, and Aziraphale was suddenly finding himself tired of the awkwardness and fidgeting of his friend.

"Crowley." His head shot back up as the Angel stood and moved to sit next to him on the loveseat. Aziraphale had never sat on it before, at least not when Crowley was. "There truly is something very important bothering you. And I would like to let you know that you can talk to me. I can tell you've been wanting to say something all evening." If it was possible for Crowley to sink into the cushions right then he would have. It was time. He had to tell him now. "Honestly dear, if it's anything like what I want to tell you then you should have nothing to worry about."

"You--ah... You what?" Crowley seemed to have a bit of trouble forming words. Aziraphale almost moved to place his hand on Crowley's knee for a moment before thinking better of it and instead lacing his own fingers together in his lap. The Angel shot him a look.

"My dear Crowley, I have been awfully rude to you. Haven't I?" He said, tilting his head and furrowing his brow slightly. "And I really must apologize to you now." He cleared his throat and took in a deep breath, "Crowley, I am so very sorry for all of the times that I have, inadvertently or not, hurt your feelings or made you feel any less of the amazing being that you are." He leaned a little bit closer to the stunned Demon and let a hand hover near the rim of his sunglasses. "May I?"

Crowley could only bring himself to nod silently, letting Aziraphale pull the glasses off and exposing wide eyes that were golden like the very sun itself. They were so expressive in their want and yearning, as well as surprise. "Oh, my dear." Aziraphale sighed, his hand twining around behind Crowley's head. His fingers sifted and stroked through his hair. Crowley's heart was running wild, love and desperation pouring out and washing over Aziraphale like a flood. "I only wish I could've said this sooner," he continued, leaning forward and letting their foreheads touch gently. His own eyes closed in contentment, eager to immerse himself fully in the emotions flowing through the room.

It was radiant. Crowley was shaking like a leaf under the pressure of his feelings, full to almost bursting. Surprisingly, Aziraphale found himself calmed and completely confident in his words. There was nothing to fear now; Crowley's reciprocation at this point was beyond obvious. "I love you so very much. I should have told you before now, I know. But I will admit that I was scared, so scared of what these feelings meant for us. I wanted to keep you safe, and if that meant keeping you at arm's reach... I was willing to make that sacrifice--"

"Angel," Crowley cut him off with a hand to his jaw, "You're rambling." Aziraphale quieted with a short laugh. The Demon nuzzled his forehead into the Angel's, letting out a shaky breath. "I've wanted to hear you say that for so long." A long pause, the two beings just bathing in each other's presence. Crowley had placed his wine glass on the table near their feet, opting to wind both of his hands through the curly strands of Aziraphale's hair. "Aziraphale."


"I really want to kiss you right now."

"Well? What are you waiting for, then?" Aziraphale joked, appreciating the spike in heart-rate on Crowley's end. "I would very much like to kiss you as well." Crowley didn't wait another second. He had been waiting for much too long now, of course he couldn't wait a moment more. He was still quaking like a leaf at the barest brush of their lips together. It was unlike anything the Angel had ever experienced. Aziraphale had never been kissed before, had never wanted to be kissed by anyone before. But being kissed by Crowley was a different story; it was even welcomed.

It was slight, chaste and quick. But the very feeling of their kiss completely enveloped Aziraphale in such strong feelings of love that he almost couldn't handle it. "Crowley, my dear. You're so wonderful," he said, making said Demon's cheeks flush red with embarrassment.

"M'not wonderful. I'm nefarious," he replied with a smirk and a slow blink of his eyes. His fingers continued to stroke and brush through the short strands of hair at the base of the Angel's neck, tracing small circles into his scalp. Aziraphale smiled mischievously and continued on with the thread of conversation,

"How nefarious, then?"

Chapter Text

Aziraphale found himself falling down onto the back of the loveseat as Crowley shot forwards, pressing his mouth to the angel's desperately. A small gasp escaped his lips as his hands ran through the fiery locks, pulling him even closer. Crowley was cool to the touch but quickly heating up, curling in closer to Aziraphale. A slight moan sounded out and the demon pulled away for long enough to ask "Can I try something?" A nod from Aziraphale was all he needed.

A leg was swung over his hips; Crowley had settled down on his lap and leaned over him, deepening the kiss further. His tongue flickered delicately over Aziraphale's bottom lip before his teeth nipped gently at it. A soft groan escaped Aziraphale as he moved his hands from Crowley's hair down to his shoulders and back, tracing the bumps of his spine. A low hiss shuddered out of him as he arched his back and pulled away harshly. He writhed for a moment, seeming almost in pain to Aziraphale.

"Dear?" He asked, splaying his hands on Crowley's waist. "Are you alright? Did you want to stop?" Crowley's eyes shot open at his words, looking down and focusing on him blearily. The irises were blown wide, swallowing up his sclera and removing any semblance of human similarity. But...

There was something very human indeed to his expression. His cheeks were reddened, as were the tips of his ears. His lips were parted to reveal the barest flash of pointed fangs. The pupils of his serpentine eyes were dilated and glazed over with one of the most human emotions of all. Lust.

"What isss it, angel?" Crowley hissed out, biting his lower lip and locking his fingers together around the back of Aziraphale's neck. "Hm? No, no pleasse don't ssstop..." He rolled his hips and arched his back further in an attempt to get his angel's hands right where they belonged. Aziraphale gasped when he felt Crowley pressing down into his lap. His Effort was... It was right there. "Do you have any idea how happy thiss makes me?" A quick moment of clarity shot through them both; a realization of what truly was happening. Crowley looked down at Aziraphale with such love and happiness that he nearly fainted.

"My dear Crowley, my wonderful demon," he said with tears in his eyes, shaky hands coming up to cradle Crowley's cheeks. "I can feel everything, every single piece of devotion you hold for me. I only wish that you could understand the depths of my own love as well." Crowley's eyes widened and his hands moved to cover Aziraphale's own, twining their fingers together. He looked shocked, almost sad. But just for a moment, for he closed his eyes and took in a deep inhale; he tasted the air with a small peek of his forked tongue.

"Aziraphale, angel..." he moaned out, eyes shooting open as he leaned in close enough to touch noses. "I may not be able to sense all of that 'holy love' pouring out from you. But I can sure as Satan see it on your face." Aziraphale rolled his eyes and groaned exasperatedly.

"Oh please don't bring him into this, he might hear you," he pleaded, moving his hands away and back to their place on Crowley's hips. "And that is the absolute last thing I want to deal with right now, even though they've left us alone so far." Crowley's eyes narrowed in a toothy grin, looking rather ridiculous.

"As you wish." Another peek of the tongue just before he shot forward and breathed heavily into Aziraphale's neck, drinking in his scent and pressing open-mouthed kisses to the soft skin there. "Mmmm... I can't feel all of that divine love, but ohhh... What a sinful angel, lusting after me so," he murmured, hands running their way across Aziraphale's chest and fiddling with the buttons to his waistcoat. Aziraphale bit his lip and a small whimper escaped him at Crowley's ministrations and implications. "Oh this definitely makes up for it," Crowley just wouldn't stop talking, wouldn't stop moaning and sighing. It was driving the angel crazy.

"Crowley, dearest... Wait," he paused as said demon hooked his fingers through his bow-tie. "How... How far did you want this to go?" Crowley pulled away and stilled immediately. Worry flashed quickly across his face before being replaced with an almost resigned sadness.

"Too fast?" He asked, swallowing and pursing his lips together intensely. It looked like it took every last ounce of restraint to stay sitting there and not move. "Am I still too fast for you, angel?"

"No-- I... No," Aziraphale stuttered out, cheeks flushing further. "Not too fast, never too fast. Not anymore. But if you wanted to stop, I would." It was hard to say, hard to put into words. But whatever Crowley wanted, Aziraphale would give. If he wasn't ready to go further, then things would stop. No matter what. He had to let him know, had to make sure he didn't feel pressured. "I love you so much, and would do anything to keep you comfortable." Crowley's eyes widened when he said 'not too fast' and Aziraphale was worried he lost him for a moment, as he looked quite far away and almost like he was daydreaming. "Crowley?" He snapped back to focus.

"Hearing you say that... Angel I've waited ssso long to hear it," his gaze softened to such a degree that he looked about ready to melt right there in his lover's lap. "Waited ssso long for you..." He began writhing again, overcome with emotion. "Was patient, can't wait anymore..." He loosened the bow-tie and undid it, opening the top of Aziraphale's shirt and leaning down to nuzzle at the newly exposed skin.

"My patient demon, my lovely Crowley." Aziraphale said, carding his fingers through the short locks of fiery red hair. "You've been so good to me," he continued as Crowley shuddered, gasping.

"M'not good," he murmured, but there was no real venom to the statement. "Very very bad, you should be scared of me, a viciousss demon..." Aziraphale smiled and trailed his fingers down to the base of his neck, toying with the very top of his spine. A shaky exhale from Crowley was all he needed to continue.

"Oh, yes. You're very ferocious. Absolutely terrifying." Crowley whined and slumped down further into his arms, running his hands over Aziraphale's shoulders. "Heaven and Hell would be mad to even touch us now, isn't that right?" He asked, humming gently. "You're so protective and strong, keeping your angel safe. I really appreciate it, my dear." The demon let out another low hiss and shrugged his shoulders in an attempt to get Aziraphale's hands farther down his back. "Look at you, so lovely and flushed. I'm sure you're tired of waiting, hm?" Crowley nodded against his neck, struggling to get through the buttons of his waistcoat.

"Angel, yesss... Pleasse." Aziraphale pressed a kiss to the top of his head and re-situated his hands to slide under Crowley's thighs. He stood and took the demon with him, startling him with a yelp. Crowley let his legs dangle helplessly as Aziraphale walked out of the backroom into the bookshop.

"You're lucky I closed hours ago, else the humans might have seen our little show."

"Let them watch, I don't care. I've waited too blasted long to have you like this." Aziraphale quirked his brow and began walking up the steps to the second floor of the building. He handled Crowley gently, but almost like he weighed nothing more than a feather. The demon was relishing it; he could tell. He had his arms wrapped around his neck to keep himself from falling backwards, and he had moved his legs to cross his ankles at the base of the angel's spine. Hands ran through Aziraphale's hair reverently, treating the strands like spun gold. "Always wanted this, wondered how soft it would be. Like silk."

"You flatter me, dear," Aziraphale replied as he readjusted his grip to hold Crowley with one arm, opening the door to his modest bedroom with the other. And if it took a quick miracle to clear the surface of his bed from the piles of books, as well as change the sheets to be more comfortable, well then. It wasn't like he had planned for this to happen. He moved to sit down on the now plush and soft mattress, taking Crowley with him. But not before he toed off his shoes and nudged them under the bed-frame. Crowley had also kicked his own shoes off while they were going up the stairs, and they laid at the bottom of the steps, forgotten. "Now, what do you want? You deserve the world tonight."

"You're my world."

Aziraphale's heart skipped a beat, both physically and spiritually. Crowley had pulled back and looked him in the eyes to say that, and the absolute depths of his devotion rocked over Aziraphale again, even stronger than before. Even if this was all Crowley could give him, he'd be happy. Happy to bask in his demon's love for the rest of time. But they were here, about to partake in such a personal and intimate ritual. And Aziraphale couldn't be happier. "But..." Crowley let his hand dip back down into the opening of the angel's shirt. "Less clothes would be a nice start."

And Aziraphale was happy to comply. He made quick work of Crowley's jacket, folding and laying it down on top of a stack of books on his bedside table. Crowley likewise unbuttoned his waistcoat and flung it off; it fell behind Aziraphale's dresser and went unnoticed by the two. The angel shucked off his overcoat and set it on top of the demon's with great care. Crowley laid his hand on the soft fabric of Aziraphale's waistcoat, trailing his fingers around each button before popping them open one by one. The thinned material took gentle handling, and Crowley was nearly at the end of his restraint to keep himself from tearing the threads keeping the buttons secure.

"Crowley, my dear." Aziraphale murmured, touch flitting over Crowley's belt buckle. His fingers delicately circled the eyes of the snake-head before dipping down to lift it up. "This is alright?" He asked, pulling back and looking him in the eyes. Crowley looked absolutely tortured. He frowned in impatience and threw his head back, groaning loudly and exasperatedly.

"Angel, you're asking this now? I'm in your lap, your hands are almost in my trousersss and it's taken every ounce of my restraint to not rip these blesssed clothes off of you." He placed his hands atop Aziraphale's and moved to finish unbuckling, sliding the studded belt off and dropping it next to them. He then bit his lower lip and guided his angel's hands up and under his dark grey shirt, untucking it from the waistline of his pants. Aziraphale gasped at the feel of Crowley's skin underneath his fingertips. "I'm going to discorporate if you don't keep going."

"Well then, when you put it like that..." Aziraphale swept his hands upwards, taking Crowley's shirt with them. He was able to get it almost the way off, before it got caught on the demon's head. He let out an indignant hiss and flailed about for a moment, attempting to free himself. Aziraphale had to stifle a small giggle with his hand as he watched Crowley struggle. "Dear, wait!" He exclaimed, reaching out and calming his rapid movements. "Let me." He gently and confidently maneuvered Crowley so that his shirt slipped off over his head and arms.

The demon snatched the shirt away from the angel's grasp and threw it away venomously. He leaned forwards and unbuttoned Aziraphale's own shirt, sliding it down off of his shoulders along with his waistcoat. A shuddering breath escaped him as he looked upon his angel. His shoulders slumped and his head tilted down, looking for all the world that he just lost all tension in his body. "Crowley, dear? Are you alright?" Aziraphale asked, trying to tear his own eyes away from his bared chest.

"Mmm? Yes. Everything's fine," he said, focus roaming across his whole body and making Aziraphale flush with a certain embarrassment. "I'm still wrapping my head around, us." It seemed hard for Crowley to speak properly; he was distracted. Aziraphale tilted his head and smiled, letting his hands trail down Crowley's shoulders and wrapping around his waist.

"My dear, you are absolutely marvelous." It was the truth. Crowley was always breathtaking, but seeing him like this was another matter entirely. He was a little paler under his clothes, and a light dusting of hair was across his chest and stomach, leading down below his newly unbuttoned trousers. Crowley groaned at his words and reached out shakily to touch Aziraphale. First was the neck, then shoulders, chest and waist, following until he finally made it to his beloved's hips. The demon planted his hands there and didn't let go, kneading the soft flesh and looking absolutely love-struck.

"Less talking, more thiss," Crowley said, wriggling his own hips and making sure Aziraphale could feel the Effort he made. The angel couldn't help but grin at his impatience and let his fingers dip down below Crowley's waistband. He was in for quite a pleasant surprise, though.

"Crowley!" He exclaimed. "You're not... you don't wear--" he got cut off with a hungry kiss, Crowley's forked tongue working wonders and making him completely forget why he was surprised. His hands pushed down the tight jeans past the light swell of his ass, bringing them around the tops of his thighs. "My dear, you're going to have to get up so I can--"

"Oh, sod it!" Crowley nearly shouted, snapping his fingers and leaving himself miraculously bare before his lover. A startled cry left the other as he realized what exactly he did. However, he had left the remains of Aziraphale's own clothes alone, still such a wonderfully patient and caring demon even in the throes of passion and need. "Much better. You wouldn't've been able to get them off otherwise, either. Practically impossible," he continued, chewing on his lip and attempting to keep still in Aziraphale's lap.

"Well, would you prefer I divest of my garments in a similar manner?" He asked, brows turning up in question. Crowley's mind left him for a moment; the situation finally sinking in. Aziraphale was asking to remove his own clothes. Crowley was naked already in his lap.

"Hrk-- I, uh... Ermm," Crowley grunted. His face flushed as he looked away, focusing on a pile of books in the corner. "Tha'ss fine." Aziraphale took that as an affirmative and decided one more miracle couldn't hurt. He also didn't want to move Crowley from his place on his lap.

A snap of the fingers.

"Oh... Oh, heavens..." Aziraphale murmured, feeling himself brush against Crowley almost obscenely. It was wonderful, unlike anything he had ever experienced. Crowley let out a gasp as well, gaze snapping back and lowering in order to look between them. His tongue flicked out, forked and serpentine, to taste the air around them. Aziraphale ran a hand through his demon's hair, stroking it and caressing it out of place. Crowley looked absolutely wrecked already.

"Angel..." he whined, dropping his head down into the juncture between Aziraphale's neck and shoulder. "I can't-- I need--" His hips writhed, pressing up even more firmly against him. Aziraphale could feel how hot and hard Crowley was for him, and he decided to not torture the poor man-shaped being any longer.

"What do you need, my dearest?" He murmured into Crowley's ear, fingers running across his sensitive spine. The demon keened at the motion. His hands were all over Aziraphale, unable to stay in one spot for too long. He needed every bit of the angel, now.

"Pleassse, pleasse I can't take it--" he cried out, feeling Aziraphale's chest and shoulders reverently. "Touch me, touch uss. Together." Aziraphale let his hand trail down Crowley's chest and stomach, achingly slowly. His fingers brushed through the light trail of hair at his navel before wrapping themselves around his erection. Crowley whined, bucking his hips and pressing himself as closely to the angel as he could. "Finally... Finally, angel--"

"Look at you, Crowley. So beautiful," he smiled, biting his lower lip as he began moving his hand. "My beautiful demon, you are absolutely breathtaking." He could feel Crowley's love rolling off in waves, getting stronger and more intoxicating with each passing moment. It was the most wonderful thing that he could have ever felt.

Until Crowley took matters into his own hands as well.

Aziraphale gasped as he felt thin fingers move quickly from his hip to his own arousal, gripping firmly and stroking in sync with his own hand. "You're breathtaking, angel. Anything for you, everything. I--" He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, opening them and fixing him with a half-lidded gaze. "Never thought I'd--" He sighed and let his thumb brush over where Aziraphale was touching, catching and linking their hands together. They were pressed chest to chest, cock to cock. And it was marvelous.

Crowley set the rhythm, set the speed. Aziraphale let him, let him lead and take control for this moment. He was occupied with soaking in all of the lovely feelings Crowley was emitting, thinking up assurances of praise and affirmation. Their fingers were linked together, as close as possible. The demon kept murmuring short little phrases that Aziraphale couldn't quite make out; he was so quiet. Hands were slicked for a smoother stroke, lips were parted around words of love.

"My dear, you're so perfect. My love, my heart." Aziraphale could feel it, could feel the peak rising and cresting. But he wanted Crowley there too; he wanted the other to let go first. "Please, I need to see you. You're safe here with me. Go on, I'm here." It was then that he took control of the speed, quickening his pace and twisting his wrist on the upstroke. Crowley groaned and got louder. He pressed his forehead against Aziraphale's. His other hand came around the back of his neck, holding him in place and playing with the downy curls of hair at his nape.

"'Ziraphale-- I--" He cut himself off with a sharp cry, spine arching and toes curling. Aziraphale smiled and gently guided Crowley through his orgasm. He was gorgeous, mouth open around soft little moans. It was every bit as beautiful that Aziraphale thought it would be.

It was at that moment he could hold it in no longer. He bit his lower lip and tilted his head back in pleasure, hips bucking below Crowley's. It was so intense, more intense than he could have ever imagined. He just had to shut his eyes in order to process it all. He was acutely aware of Crowley's silence in that moment; he was quieter than ever before.

But while he was physically quiet, his mind was singing. Wordless harmonies burst forth from metaphysical lips, all crying out with such a strong feeling of love that Aziraphale could hardly believe that Crowley's body could handle the force of the emotion. But it was. His body was in tandem with his mind, calm and grounded yet so persistent and overwhelming. If there had ever been any doubt (there wasn't) it would have been expelled by now. It was all rather lovely, in Aziraphale's opinion.

"I can hear you, Crowley," Aziraphale murmured, head buried in Crowley's shoulder. That broke the moment of silence, with the demon uttering a chuckle.

"Sorry, angel. Can't help the racket I'm making."

"Don't you ever apologize for that. I'll not have it." Aziraphale leaned back into the pillows below them, dragging Crowley atop his chest. There was another moment of quiet between them, punctuated only by the sharp taste of Crowley's love upon Aziraphale's soul. Fingers wandered aimlessly through hair, soft breaths were fanned out through tired lips. They didn't need to say anything, it had all been laid out before them. From six thousand years ago up until this very moment; they knew that this is where they wanted to be for an eternity more.

Not that they knew what eternity was.

But they had a vague idea. And they would last, until the world crumbled to ash and they were mere cosmic dust in a vast universe. They would be there, in the stars.