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do we get what we deserve

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Crowley had not been a particularly good angel. 

Sure, he had been a pretty good Maker. The Alpha Centauri system was a work of art, if you ask him. But Crowley hadn’t been satisfied sitting around Heaven, singing celestial harmonies and waiting patiently for the Great and Ineffable Plan to unfold. He had questions. He wanted to understand. He had been given a mind after all, why shouldn’t he use it?

The only thing Crowley learned as he fell from the heavens, wings ablaze and smoke filling his lungs, was angels were not meant to ask questions and were not supposed to understand.1

Unfortunately, Crowley had never been a particularly good demon either. 

That is to say, he had never really gotten the hang of being a demon. Oh, he perfected the look as the years went by, what with his soot-black wardrobe and too sharp smile and dangerous serpentine eyes. And the tempting was pretty easy, kind of fun actually. Humans, he had discovered, were absolutely desperate for options, and options were something Crowley took great pleasure in providing. But he never really got into the, well, eviler parts of being a demon. 

For one thing, he didn’t really want to hurt people. Tempting people into sin was an enjoyable challenge and if that caused some pain later down the road, well, options did that sometimes. Frightening people had no real purpose, but it was a good bit of fun. And wreaking havoc and causing general chaos came with a pleasant sensation, like a good stretch after a job badly done. But just outright hurting people? What was the point of that? The evil, absolutely. The mildly annoying, why not? But the everyday nobodies, whose only crime was bearing Her image? Crowley preferred to leave that to Lower Management. 

Oh, he knew what they whispered, what they thought of him Below. He spent too much time with the humans. He had gone native, favouring earth’s musicians and fashion and wonderful toys. He was too weak, too soft, too nice.

And the worst part was, sometimes, sitting across from Aziraphale, watching him savour and swoon over every bite of some dreadfully sweet and grossly overpriced pastry, Crowley knew they were right.  

Crowley didn’t like the crowded hallways of Hell, the way they seemed to close in on him. Suffocating him until they compelled him to take nervous shallow breaths that did nothing to alleviate the fear2. He couldn’t stand the smell of sulphur that permeated the air, the way it seemed to seep into his clothes the longer he walked those damned halls and followed him back to his flat and into his nightmares. 

He preferred to stay on Earth and tend to his beautiful, and terrified, plants while Aziraphale worried tirelessly about the plants’ feelings. To go ninety miles in Central London just to watch Aziraphale fret.  To wander the angel’s unwelcoming bookshop, inhaling the scent of ancient books and miraculously aged wine. To have the warmth of Aziraphale’s smile fill him, consume him, overwhelm him until his blood finally, impossibly, ran warm, even hours later as he drifted off to sleep. 

Crowley was not a particularly good demon and it infuriated him. 

“What’s the point of Falling if I can’t do it right?!” Crowley had demanded once. 

It had been a long night in the back room of Aziraphale’s shop, drinking expensive wine and arguing about Shakespeare. 

“The point is”— Crowley had insisted drunkenly, waving the wine bottle around wildly —“the point is…”

“No, no no, dear boy,” Aziraphale interjected. “You are not—”

“The point is I’m basically Shakespeare,” Crowley finished proudly.

“Hamlet hardly—”

“Hamlet entirely—”

“That is like claiming I’m Wilde!” Crowley blinked, slowly as though blinking were a foreign concept to him, and frowned.

“Of course not. You’re the tam—tam—tamessst being I know. Well…”

“I have fun!” Aziraphale protested, tilting his glass towards Crowley and miraculously not spilling a drop. “I travel and I eat and I am, I am, I am—”

“A bore?”

“— a lovely dancer, and—”

“When was the last time you went to a club, angel?”

“1882…no, no! No, I meant Wilde, not wild. Oscar, that is.3 

“When did you two go to a club toget— togth—?”

“We didn’t. I told him once it was important to be truth—true to one shelf— to be earnest. Completely misunderstood me.”

“I like that one!” Crowley said, delighted. “That’s one of his better ones I think. Good on you, angel,” and he raised his bottle in celebration. Aziraphale sighed but raised his glass.

“Dear boy,” he said fondly with a shake of his head. And Crowley grew warm in a way that had nothing to do with the two bottles of wine he’d consumed. 

He had gone back to his flat, revelling in the warmth of Aziraphale, when he had suddenly gone cold. 

What the fuck was wrong with him? Going warm and soft over a bloody smile? What kind of demon was he? 

He had wanted to throw something but the nearest thing was a corkscrew albuca that had finally started to grow properly and while yelling at plants was one thing, punishing them needlessly was another thing altogether.

“What’s wrong with me!?” he growled. “It’s a bloody plant, who cares if it dies? I’ll just get a better one!” 

Crowley grabbed the plant and faltered and slammed it back down on the table.


He grabbed a pillow instead and sent it soaring across the room and into the wall with a muted thud. It was nowhere near satisfying. 

“You made me this way,” he accused, glaring up at the ceiling. “Are you having fun up there? Are you?” He laughed and unfurled his wings, ignoring the pain.

“Oh, how the mighty have Fallen, huh! Too many questionsssss to be a good angel and too much dammed warmth to be a sodding demon, what a fucking laugh!”

Crowley’s eyes stung. 

“Why can’t I do it right?! Why can’t I do anything right!”

He collapsed in on himself, wings curled around him defensively.

“Why can’t I do anything right,” he whispered to himself brokenly. 

Because proper demons didn’t share oysters with the divine just to enjoy their presence. Because proper demons didn’t make a godawful tragedy into a success just to see their adversary smile. Because proper demons didn’t save some old books from Nazis just to please the enemy. Because proper demons didn’t freeze time and stand against Satan himself for the sake of one more conversation, one more dinner, one more drink. 

Because proper demons didn’t fall in love with angels. 


“Oh, Crowley! Look at this!” Crowley looked up from his trashy gossip rag4 to see Aziraphale holding out a card, beaming smile on his face. Crowley took the offered card and examined it. It was a holiday card, with those kids on it. They were all smiling wearing silly Christmas sweaters, even the hellhound—although it looked less pleased—, and they had all signed the back.

“ ‘Merry Christmas. Thanks for helping the world not end. Adam, Pepper, Brian, Wesley, and Dog’, ” Crowley read aloud. He raised an eyebrow at the angel. 

“Anathema sent it on their behalf. Apparently they wanted to come up for a visit, but couldn’t come up with a good reason to tell their parents they were going to SoHo. Anathema convinced them a card was just as good. Look, the dog even put his paw print.”

Aziraphale took the card back, still smiling. 

“Hellhound,” Crowley corrected. “Dogs aren’t likely to swallow you whole. Well, most dogs. Anyways, I thought you didn’t like children.” Aziraphale shrugged as he taped the card above his desk. 

“They seem alright. Mostly well-behaved and they did play a role in stopping the end of the world. I could grow fond of them.” Crowley rolled his eyes and reopened his magazine. 

“Their ringleader is the literal Antichrist. I can’t imagine they’re that well-behaved.”

“Well, perhaps you have a point,” Aziraphale conceded. “Still they seem, I don’t know, sweet. Don’t you agree?”

Crowley wrinkled his nose.

“I don’t really do sweet, angel.”

Aziraphale made a vague, disagreeing sound. 

“Now, I know you have your reputation to uphold, or so you keep telling me, but when it’s just you and me—”

“Don’t finish that sentence!”

“—you can admit you really are—”

“I mean it, angel.”

“—a nice—”

Crowley sprung up from the couch and grabbed Aziraphale roughly. 

Angel, I thought we had an understanding about that word,” Crowley all but growled. Aziraphale, the right bastard, had the audacity to look amused. 

“I can use another word if you prefer,” he offered cheekily. So cheekily, in fact, that Crowley strongly contemplated kissing his maddening angel and that thought was enough to make Crowley release Aziraphale as though he had been burned.

“Perhaps kind?” The angel continued, laughing.  “Or tender?”

“You—you absolute—the point is—”

“Yes?” Aziraphale encouraged, still looking amused. Crowley slipped on his glasses and turned his back. 5 

“I’m going home.”

“Oh, come now, my boy.” Crowley could feel the disappointment in the angel’s voice. “I was only teasing you a little. Please stay.”

“I’ve got stuff to do.”

“Like what?”

“Like stuff, Aziraphale!” Crowley said desperately, turning around and waving his hands. The warm sensation that often accompanied Aziraphale was back but instead of feeling comforting and pleasant, Crowley thought he was going to burn. 

You can admit you really are a nice—

Important stuff. Wily, fiendish, demon stuff that doesn’t concern you, so bugger off!”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale’s tone was sharp but the hurt still rang through. 

You can admit you really are a nice—

“I’ll ring you when I’m done,” he promised half-heartedly as he made his way to the Bentley. Aziraphale stubbornly followed him outside. 

“Crowley, stopping being so overdramatic and—”

You can admit you really are a nice—

Crowley never found out the end of Aziraphale’s sentence. Instead, he slammed the car door shut, with more force than should have been possible, and sped away from the curb, nearly taking out an elderly couple attempting to cross the street. 

The scenery passed in a blur and Crowley had no memory of turning the first corner to standing in his office back in Mayfair. He looked around the room, unseeingly as the heat continued to build and Aziraphale’s voice got louder. 

You can admit you really are a nice—

Admit you really are a nice—

You really are a nice—

A sound crawled its way out of Crowley and filled the space, echoing around the entire flat as Crowley dropped to his knees, wings unfurled and hands tangled in his hair. 

I can’t be nice. Can’t be good. If I am, then what’s the point? There’snopointatall. OhGodthere’snothing. No. Nononono. No. Must be a point. Ineffable right? Evil, that’s it. I’m evil. Evil, bad, fiendish. That’s what Aziraphale says and he’s never wrong. Bad. Bad. Badbadbad. Unworthy,unforgivable,unlovable,notnice,notgood. Notanymore. Want to be good, can’tbegood. No, no nononon— 

“Oh, my darling boy.”

Crowley’s manic thoughts came to a screeching halt. 

Hands—gentle hands, good soft hands—came to rest in his hair. Came to rest on the hands entangled in his hair, pulling frantically on the strands. Gently—so gentle, why are you so gentle with me? I don’t deserve it—stroking his hair. 

“You’re hurting yourself, darling. Please stop.”

Crowley’s hands dropped from his hair, as if he had lost all control of them. 

“Thank you, my dear. That’s a go— that’s right. Thank you. Can you open your eyes for me, Crowley?”

The question surprised Crowley as he hadn’t realised his eyes were closed. Hell, he hadn’t even realised he wasn’t wearing his glasses. He briefly considered opening them, then considered what he might see if he opened them, and decided he preferred the dark and shook his head. 

Aziraphale made a disappointed sound but didn’t repeat his request. 

“That’s okay. Do you think you can speak?”

Crowley shrugged. He wasn’t entirely sure that he was fully present in this plane of existence. Speaking seemed improbable, if not altogether impossible, and Crowley wasn’t sure if he currently had the imagination to do the impossible. 

“Okay, then. What if I talk and you listen?” Crowley nodded. That seemed manageable. “Right. Well, it seems as though you were having a panic attack. Does that sound correct?”

Crowley shrugged. He had experienced brief bouts of panic before, once or twice, and was familiar with the sensations. Heart pounding, lungs constricting, mind racing. It seemed to check out, though he felt less edgy than earlier. Probably a good sign. 

“And…and you seemed…upset when you left the shop,” he suggested hesitantly. 

Crowley shrugged again. Upset didn’t really feel like the right word but, even at his best, words had a tendency to escape him and Crowley didn’t feel his best at the moment, so he supposed he could settle for ‘upset’. 

“And when I came in—which I only did because I was worried about you, my boy, I would never have entered your home without your permission under any other circumstances,” he quickly reassured. “But when I came in, you…you were—”

Aziraphale’s voice broke and Crowley finally opened his eyes.

Aziraphale had tears streaming down his face and he was far too pale. Crowley wanted to reach out and wipe away the tears—after all, his angel shouldn’t be crying, not over him—but he still couldn’t get his hands to move. Aziraphale looked heartbroken and Crowley had no idea what to do. 

“You were saying such…such horrible things, Crowley. Saying you…thinking you were…And all because I said—”

It was too much.

“No, angel.” His voice was hoarse but he soldiered on. “You didn’t—You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re an angel remember? You can’t do the wrong thing.” 

Aziraphale choked out a laugh. Or maybe it was a sob. “You and I both know that is not true.”


“I did do something wrong,” Aziraphale insisted. “I said you were good. I made fun of you and that was wrong. I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s alright, angel,” Crowley interrupted quickly. “So you try to see the good in all people, big deal. I’m a pretty pathetic demon if I can’t handle a little teasing, don’t you think?”

“No!” Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s hands and held them tightly between them, staring intently into his eyes. “Don’t say that, Crowley! I won’t hear another word of it!”

“Angel, I—”

“No! You are not pathetic, and I’m not sorry that I called you good. I’m only sorry it upset you so much. I’m sorry that I failed to pay attention to your feelings.” Crowley started to squirm and tried to pull his hands away from Aziraphale’s. 

“Feelings? Aziraphale, you make it sound like I’m going soft.”

“But you—”

“I won’t hear another word of this—ngk—apology. Now, come on, let’s get lunch. I think I’m a bit peckish.” Crowley pulled his wings in, ignoring the twinge of pain, and moved his legs trying to get to his feet, but they felt numb and heavy from kneeling for too long.

“Lunch?” Aziraphale got to his feet and gave Crowley an incredulous look. “My dear—do you have any idea what time it is?” Crowley shrugged, finally pulling himself into what could generously be described as a standing position and took a few unsteady steps towards the door. 

“Dinner then. You pick the place and—” Aziraphale moved so he was blocking the door. 

“Crowley, what day do you think it is?” 

Crowley shrugged and tried to sidestep around the angel. “Wednesday? You know I’m not good with—” 


Crowley’s heart stopped then began working overtime. He tried to move away but Aziraphale was still blocking his path and there was nowhere to go.


“I haven’t seen you in five days, Crowley.” His voice was unbearably gentle and his hands were firm as they reached for Crowley. “Five days. And I walk in and…and now you want to act as if nothing’s happened? As if I didn’t find you—?” Aziraphale shook his head sadly and looked into Crowley’s eyes. “Talk to me, Crowley. Do…do you really think those things?”

“O-of course.” His voice broke and he pushed the angel out of the way and escaped to his living room. “I’m a demon, angel. I’m Fallen. Of course I—what else can I be but bad? It’s what I am!”

“I thought we were on our own side now,” Aziraphale said quietly. “I thought we were—”

“We are, angel. But that doesn’t change our natures. It just means we like this planet more than some bloody war of the occult.”

“And ethereal,” the angel added, more out of habit than anything else. 

“Yes, fine, occult and ethereal. Point is—“ Crowley was waving his hands about frantically “—I don’t see you suddenly stealing candy from babies or parking in the handicap spot so—”

“Really, Crowley, is that the most evil thing you think I’m capable of? A parking violation and making a child cry?”

“You’re a bloody angel! You’re not going to go on a killing spree!”

“Sandalphon might,” Aziraphale mumbled and any other time Crowley might have laughed. 

“The point is—”

“Yes, what is the point, my dear?” Aziraphale interrupted, sounding frustrated. “Because what I’m hearing is I’m an angel and therefore incapable of doing anything wrong, and you are a demon and therefore incapable of doing anything good, and we both know that simply isn’t true. I mean, really, Crowley. There are days when I don’t wonder if the wrong angel Fe—”

“Don’t!” Crowley rushed forward, and covered Aziraphale’s stupid mouth with his hand. “Don’t say it, Aziraphale, I’m actually begging here.”

“Mell y hundt i ay hit? Ew r gud Crowley. Ew r, an ew dint dessert to thaw!” Aziraphale instead stubbornly, voice muffled enough that the words were nearly unintelligible.6 

“Are you sssstupid?” Crowley hissed through clenched teeth. “Do you want to Fall, angel? Because I can assure you it isn’t any fun. So don’t go around ssssaying things like that if you aren’t ready for the consequencesss.” He took a deep breath and looked his angel in the eyes. “Now, I’m going to take my hand away, and you are going to be quiet and we are going to go to dinner, and we will never mention this again. Got it?”

Aziraphale shook his head violently and Crowley sighed. 

“You’re killing me here, angel. You really are.” Crowley groaned before releasing Aziraphale and take a few angry steps away from him. “What do you want from me, angel? Really, what do you want me to do here?”

“Talk to me, Crowley, please.”

“And say what?” Crowley snapped. “That I’m bad? Wicked? A foul fiend.”


“No, I am, Aziraphale! I’m a demon, I have to be.”

“But why do—?”

“Because why else would I have Fallen!” Crowley shook from head to toe, out of pain or anger he didn’t know. “She must have known, seen some deep wickedness in my heart, and cast me out! I have to be—I can’t be good! Demons aren’t good, they’re wicked and vile and worthless creatures so I must be too! I deserve it, I must have!”

“Crowley! No, you—” Crowley’s hands tugged frantically at his hair. 

“Bad angel, bad demon. Just fucking useless!”


Waves of divine wrath radiated off the angel and Crowley flinched back, falling silent and closing his eyes to shield them from the light.

“You are not useless or worthless or any of those horrible things you call yourself. You are glorious, my dear boy, and I have half a mind to tear apart the heavens and hells for ever making you think otherwise.”

“Angel, I—”

“You are wonderful, Crowley, and I know that for a fact. Do you know why?”


“Because I love you, Crowley. I am terribly in love with you, and I would never love something wicked. You are not wicked. ”

Crowley’s eyes shot open and he stared stupidly at the angel. Aziraphale came closer, still radiating light, and cupped Crowley’s face. 

“You are beautiful, and curious, and clever, and so good, and I am so horribly selfish because if Falling was the only way for us to meet, then thank God that She cast you aside so that I could pick you up.”


“I love you, Crowley. I truly do.” All Crowley could do was stare. “My darling boy, do you—?”

Yes.” The word came out all at once, in a gasp, as if he couldn’t say if fast enough. As if he couldn’t go another second of the angel thinking otherwise. Yet, the minute it left his mouth, he wanted to take it back.

What am I thinking? I don’t deserve to love him.  

“I’m sorry, angel, I—”

Aziraphale kissed him, hard and fierce, fingers tangling in Crowley’s hair and tugging hard. Crowley froze, too stunned to even consider reciprocating. 

“Don’t you dare apologise,” Aziraphale nearly growled when he broke the kiss. “Don’t you dare apologise for saying the words I’ve both feared and longed for. I love you and if you think I’m going to listen to your apologies over it, you are gravely mistaken.” Crowley gave the slightest of nods, hoping if he didn’t move too much Aziraphale might kiss him again. Aziraphale leaned in close, lips nearly brushing against Crowley’s. He whimpered and felt his angel’s smile.

“Oh, my love, my darling boy,” he cooed and Crowley whimpered. 

“Aziraphale, angel, I—”

“May I kiss you?”

Please,” Crowley begged, hands fumbling uselessly for Aziraphale. “Please, Aziraphale, yes, please, I—” Let me be good. Let me be good enough for you.

The angel shushed him gently. 

“It’s alright, my dear. No need for that.” Aziraphale tugged on Crowley’s hair again and Crowley shut his eyes, wanting to enjoy the sensation, the pure pleasure of his angel’s touch. He held his breath as soft lips met his own, carefully this time, then Crowley melted. The rest of the world faded away and all the matter was the feel of his angel’s lips. It was, in a word, divine.

Aziraphale pulled back after a moment, or maybe an hour, and Crowley tried to follow but a hand on his chest stopped him. 

“Is this alright, love?” Crowley nodded quickly, words barely registering. 

“Of course, it’s alright. It’s…it’s perfect, angel. Please don’t stop.” Aziraphale laughed softly and kissed Crowley once more before retreating. 

“I was only worried because you weren’t responding. I was afraid I might be overwhelming you, or maybe you weren’t enjoying it, or—”

For the first time since Aziraphale had entered his flat, Crowley knew what to do.7 He gave Aziraphale a teasing smile. 

“Angel, I promise you I was enjoying kissing you very much and I would like to continue enjoying it, if you have no objections.”

“Oh, well by all means please.” Crowley swallowed and leaned in for another kissing, calling desperately on all his past experience and fantasies to make it as good as possible for Aziraphale. Based on the pleased noises coming from his angel, he wasn’t doing half bad. Feeling bold, he trailed his lips down to Aziraphale’s jaw, kissing and biting gently, and revelling in his angel’s shivers. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale whimpered. “I—oh! 

“Yesss, angel?” Crowley teased, biting at his ear and watching the angel flush. 

“I..wait, I—”

Crowley froze. Then pulled away from his angel as quickly as possible. 

You idiot, he berated bitterly. You fucking idiot. You didn’t ask if that was okay. If he was enjoying himself. You were only thinking about yourself, you worthless—

“Sorry, I just…” Aziraphale glanced down sheepishly before looking back at Crowley. “You mentioned dinner earlier, and I thought maybe…?”

The rising self-hatred gave away to unexpected laughter. 

“You’re hungry,” Crowley said, disbelief creeping in. Aziraphale huffed. 

“I just thought maybe we could enjoy a nice meal together before—Oh, stop laughing!”

“I’m sorry, angel,” Crowley said, still smiling. “Of course we can get dinner. Anywhere you like.” He gave Aziraphale a quick peck on the cheek before slipping past him to the front door and holding it open for him. 

Once they reached the street, Aziraphale stopped and gave Crowley a concerned look. 

“Are…are you alright now, my dear?” Crowley slid his glasses back on with a broad grin. 

“Of course I’m alright,” he lied easily. “Now, dinner?”


Crowley lounged on the sofa, staring as his angel read in the wing-back chair across the room. A love-stupid smile spread across his face. He got to do that. Openly worship his angel with his eyes and, when his angel was feeling generous, in private with his mouth and hands. 

“You’re staring,” Aziraphale remarked calming as he turned a page. Crowley shrugged. 

“Do you mind?” Aziraphale looked over at Crowley and smiled affectionately at him. 

“Of course not, my dear. I was just curious if you were content to simply stare?” 

Crowley was moving across the room without a second thought, dropping gracelessly to his knees in front of Aziraphale, expression painfully eager. 

“Can I…?” he asked, hands already reaching for Aziraphale. 

Let me please you. Let me love you.

“Actually,” Aziraphale said, closing his book and running his fingers through Crowley’s hair, “I thought we could do something different.” Crowley pressed up into the touch happily. 


“I thought I could taste you for a change.” Crowley looked up at Aziraphale in confusion. 

“I, you…why?” Aziraphale gave him a small smile. 

“Well, because I love you, my dear, and I would greatly enjoy the chance to give you the same pleasure you give me.”


Crowley was still on his knees, unsure if he should move yet. Crowley liked being on his knees before his angel. Liked to receive the undeserved gift of bringing his angel pleasure. Liked feeling as though his Fall finally had a purpose.

“Is that alright with you, Crowley?” Nervousness crept into his angel’s voice and Crowley cursed his hesitation. 

“Of course. Whatever you want, angel.” Crowley started to move then stopped, looking to his angel for direction. “Where do you want me?” 

“Why don’t you take my chair?” Aziraphale suggested. “Unless you prefer the bedroom?” But Crowley was already in the chair, undoing his leather trousers as quickly as possible. 

“Oh, love, I can do that,” Aziraphale said, “Please?” 

Crowley dropped his onto the armrest, gripping them tightly. Aziraphale slid Crowley’s trousers and pants down his legs, then kissed his way up Crowley’s thighs. He smiled before reaching for Crowley’s cock and giving it a light, teasing stroke. Crowley thrusted up into Aziraphale’s touch and whimpered. 

“Does that feel nice?” Aziraphale asked teasingly as he rubbed his thumb over the head of Crowley’s cock. Crowley nodded, biting his lip to fight off a groan. 


Then, without warning, his mouth was on Crowley. 

Crowley’s nails dug into the leather as he used all his willpower not to buck up into his angel’s mouth. 

Angel,” Crowley gasped in a strangled voice, before biting his lip even harder and tasting blood. Aziraphale glanced up and frowned. 

Crowley’s heart stopped. What did I do wrong?! Why is he looking at me like that?! What did I do?!

“You can make noise, my love. I want to hear you.” Crowley nodded quickly, nails digging in deeper. Aziraphale gave him another look before leaning in and taking more of Crowley into his mouth. Crowley slammed his eyes shut, unable to bear the sight of Aziraphale on his knees. 

The lack of sight only made the other sensations more intense. All he could focus on now was the wet warmth of Aziraphale’s mouth and the sounds of him sucking almost eagerly at his cock. 

“‘Ziraphale, I—”

“Hmm?” Crowley’s cock twitched at the feel of the vibrations and a whimper escaped. Aziraphale pulled back slightly and lapped at the head of his cock, once, twice, before sinking back down. Crowley felt the leather beneath his fingers tear as he groaned weakly. 

“Angel, angel, please oh, oh, I—”

Are you really going to come from this? a voice whispered in the back of his head. Do you think you deserve it?


Shit. Shit! SHIT!

It was too much.


The warmth disappeared and Crowley groaned despite himself. He opened his eyes slowly and looked down at his angel. Aziraphale’s hands hovered over Crowley’s thighs but not touching him, worry in his eyes. 

“Crowley, darling, what’s wrong? What did I do?”

His eyes searched Crowley’s, looking so desperate, and he didn’t know what to do, how to explain. 

Sorry, I started to feel really good and freaked out?

Crowley closed his eyes and took a breath. 

“Crowley, love? I’m so sorry. Please tell me what I did wrong?”

“I…nothing. You didn’t do anything wrong, angel. I…I don’t know why I said that. Here—” Crowley stood up on weak legs and leaned over the chair, presenting himself to Aziraphale with a shaky smile. “Why don’t you fuck me instead?”

“Fuck…? No, Crowley.” Cautiously, a hand came to rest on his lower back and Crowley arched on instinct. The hand withdrew. 

“No, you used the safeword. We need to talk—”

“I don’t know why I said it,” Crowley interrupted, looking over his shoulder. “I didn’t mean it. Now I can get on my knees if you want. Or if you can fuck me. Or—”


“You haven’t gotten off and if you still want to, then—”

“I don’t.” 

Crowley froze. 

“Crowley, do you really think I still want to have sex right now?”

Ssssstupid, his mind hissed.  Ssstupid, worthless idiot. You ruined it. You made him worry and now he doesn’t want you. Look what you did.


Crowley stood up and snapped his fingers, his clothes and glasses finding their correct place on his person. 

“Uh, right then. I’ll see you later then.”

“That wasn’t— Don’t go.” Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s hand, holding him in place. He froze but stared at the ground. His angel sighed. “Please look at me?” 

Crowley lifted his head and looked in his general direction, glasses still firmly in place. 

“I…I’m not angry with you, my dear,” he began carefully. “I’m concerned. In the last few months we’ve been together, you have never used our safeword before. Now, I know you said you didn’t mean to use it, but the fact is that you did. So that tells me something I did was enough to make you at least consider stopping. I’d like to know what it was, so I don’t make you uncomfortable again.”

“I..I wasn’t uncomfortable,” Crowley protested, still looking just a little past Aziraphale. “I don’t know why I said it. I didn’t mean to. Everything was fine. It was an accident.”

“Crowley, we picked a word specifically that we would not say on accident.” Crowley flinched. 


“I told you, I’m not angry, my dear. I…I just want to know why you’re lying to me, why you think I’m angry with you?”

“I…don't?” Aziraphale sighed and reached for Crowley’s glasses, removing them slowly. Crowley stared at the floor, fighting the urge to fidget. “Angel, I—”

“Crowley, why did you let me suck your cock?” 

Panic shot through Crowley like a bolt of lightning. 

“I-I’m sorry!” he said quickly, eyes frantically meeting Aziraphale’s. “I won’t do it again, I promise!”

“Crowley?!” Aziraphale stared at him in horror and confusion as Crowley dropped to his knees. 

“I’m sorry! I’ll make it up to you, I promise! Please, don’t leave me, I—”

Worthless. Stupid, worthless demon thinking you deserve this.

Aziraphale dropped beside Crowley and pulled him into his arms. 

“Crowley, my love, please calm down! I’m not going to leave you, I promise.” At those words, Crowley went limp with relief in Aziraphale’s arms. 

“Thank you,” he murmured into the hollow of Aziraphale’s throat. He pressed a soft kiss there, then another. “Thank you.”

“I…Crowley…do you think I’m going to leave you if you do something wrong?”

Crowley nodded, still pressing mindless kisses up and down Aziraphale’s neck.


“Why wouldn’t you?” Crowley looked up at Aziraphale and gave him a ‘why are you so stupid sometimes’ look. “Isn’t that why people usually end relationships?

“I suppose that one of the reasons, yes, but…” Aziraphale trailed off as Crowley buried his face back in Aziraphale’s neck, pressing a wet kiss just below his Adam’s apple. “Why would…oh, oh that’s nice.” Crowley smiled to himself and nipped playfully at his throat. 

“I, oh, Crowley, we , ah, ah, aren’t done with the conversation,” Aziraphale said, although he sounded a little uncertain. 

“We can talk later,” Crowley assured before kissing the darkening bruise he had just left on Aziraphale, hand trailing down towards Aziraphale’s cock. 

“No, no, Crowley, we need to talk now.” Aziraphale moved back a little, and gave Crowley a serious look. “Why did you apologise for letting me suck your cock?” Crowley shifted uncomfortably.

“I don’t know. I thought I had done something wrong, I guess.” Aziraphale frowned. 

“Why would that be wrong?”

Crowley stared down at the floor. 

Tell him, his mind taunted. Tell him that you liked seeing him on his knees. That you wanted to be worshipped for once. That you were stupid enough to think you deserved it. 

“Do…you not like cock sucking? It’s okay if you don’t. We could try something else.”

“No, no it’s not that. It’s just…I…”


“I…I just wanted to be good.” The words come out in the barest of whispers and Crowley isn’t completely sure he really said them. 

“What do you mean ‘good’? Did you think you had to—”

“No, I—” Crowley ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Why are words so fucking hard? “I just…I wanted to be good enough. To deserve it. But I’m not.”

Crowley risked a look at Aziraphale and immediately wished he could take the words back. Aziraphale looked devastated. 

“Oh, my dearest boy.”

“It’s okay,” Crowley said with an indifferent shrug. “I’ll remember for the future and I won’t—”

Aziraphale leaned forwards and kissed Crowley, tender yet deep. Crowley sighed into the kiss and when the angel pulled back, Crowley gave him a dazed smile. 


“You absolute deserve it. You deserve to receive pleasure. None of this ‘good enough’ nonsense.”

“But, angel—”

“No, you do, Crowley. You deserve love and pleasure and it kills me that you think you are deserving of anything less.” Aziraphale closed his eyes for a moment, looking pained. “Frankly, I’m too afraid to ask if you’ve enjoyed our last three months or if was just some strange attempt to please me.”

“Of course, I’ve enjoyed it!” Crowley protested. “Angel, Aziraphale, of course—”

“Do you love me?” Crowley flinched slightly.

“Demons are not meant to love,” he responded quietly. We aren’t meant to be loved. Aziraphale laughed fondly. 

“Well, I’ve always thought you were the most remarkable demon I’ve ever met.”


“Do you love me, my dearest?”

“I’m not supposed to. I’m Fallen, Damned. I’m not supposed to—”

“But do you?”

Yes,” he choked out. He hated saying it. Crowley meant it, of course. Crowley knew he loved Aziraphale more than any being had ever loved anything. And he would gladly spend hours, days, weeks, eternity showing it. But he couldn’t say it, the words too heavy, too wrong on his sinner’s tongue. 

Aziraphale kissed him softly on the forehead and asked, “Do you believe I love you?” Crowley tilted his head back and gave Aziraphale a confused frown.


“Do you believe I love you?” he repeated calmly. Crowley hesitated. 

“You say you love me…and I…I believe you wouldn’t lie to me. Or make fun of me.” Aziraphale pulled back from Crowley and looked intently into his eyes. 

“But you don’t believe I actually love you.” His angel looked so disappointed that Crowley shook his head on instinct. 

“No, I—”

“Don’t lie to me, dearest,” Aziraphale said firmly, though not angrily. “I…unfortunately, I understand your hesitation. I pushed you away in the past, due to my own fears, and used your demonic nature as the excuse. I’ve hurt you, time and time again, sometimes without realising it. And you, you beautiful creature, just kept loving me anyway, didn’t you?” Aziraphale’s eyes grew damp and he shook his head. “You believed you deserved that treatment and never said a word. You still believe that, don’t you?” Crowley stared down at his lap, unsure what to do next. 


Aziraphale pulled Crowley even closer until he was curled up in his angel’s lap.

“I’m so sorry, my love. You've been so hurt, for years, and I’ve missed all the signs, doing nothing to make amends.”

“But…you let me love you,” Crowley protested weakly. Aziraphale frowned. 

“I don’t ‘let you’ love me. I gladly receive the love you want to give me, because I love you.” Crowley said nothing and Aziraphale’s frown deepened. “Crowley, do you think…do you think I allow you to love me?”


Crowley was at a loss. He didn’t know how to explain what Aziraphale was to him. To explain how Aziraphale allowed him to feel good, to be good. To explain that if Aziraphale allowed Crowley to love him, then everything would be okay. He didn’t need to worry if he was a bad demon or had been a good angel as long as Aziraphale wanted him. That was enough. That made Crowley enough. 

“You’re…everything,” Crowley said, at last, unable to look at Aziraphale. “I’ve loved you for years. I…I can barely remember what it was like before, what it was like not to love you.”

“Oh, Crowley…”

“You’re so good, and I’m not—no don’t look at me like that, I’m not good and you know it— but you said yourself that you could never love someone wicked. So I’m…nothing. I’m just this nothing, in between good and evil, and all I know is that as long as you let me love you, it doesn’t matter what I am. But sometimes…” Crowley swallowed and risked a quick look at his angel, “sometimes I want to be good enough to deserve your love. To deserve the love of an angel.”

Aziraphale buried his head in Crowley’s hair. 

“You are good enough.”


“No, I won’t hear another word. I don’t know who’s been filling your head with this rubbish, but you deserve to feel love. To be loved. I’m so sorry that I made you think I would only love you if you were good. That was horrible of me, and I hope that you will be able to forgive me one day.” He kissed Crowley’s hair then looked into his eyes. “Will you let me try to prove it? How much I love you?”

“You don’t have to,” he mumbled. 

“I know that, but I want to. If you’ll let me.”

Crowley swallowed nervously and shrugged. 

“I know it’s difficult, but I need words, my darling. Will you let me try to prove it to you?”

“Yes,” Crowley croaked out. Aziraphale smiled and brushed back Crowley’s hair. 

“Thank you, my love. Now, may I move you to the bedroom?” Crowley started to nod then remembered Aziraphale’s request and mumbled, “okay.”

Aziraphale rewarded him with a kiss on the nose, then snapped his fingers and Crowley dropped onto the large king-sized bed. He scrambled into a sitting position on the edge of the bed and stared up at Aziraphale. 

“Now, this is very important, Crowley. Has there ever been anything we’ve done together that you did not enjoy? Anything at all?”

Crowley squirmed as he thought back on the last three months. The fact the Aziraphale had let Crowley touch him, that Aziraphale had cried out Crowley’s name in the height of passion, had allowed Crowley to find pleasure within Aziraphale’s body seem miraculous. To find fault in any of those moments felt impossible.

“I..uh…” Seeming to sense his struggle, Aziraphale took pity on him. 

“It’s alright, love.” Aziraphale kissed Crowley softly. “Just…will you promise to let me know if I do something you don’t like?”


“Thank you. Now, may I undress you?” Crowley flushed. 

“You don’t have to ask,” Crowley muttered, glancing away from Aziraphale’s piercing gaze. 

“Is that a yes?” Aziraphale pressed. If possible, Crowley’s face got redder and he nodded. 

“Yeah, fine.” 

“Lie back for me.” He obeyed, expecting his angel to miracle his clothes away. Instead, Aziraphale straddled Crowley’s lap, then ran his fingers lightly up and down Crowley’s side. Crowley shivered as Aziraphale pushed up his black shirt and exposed  his pale stomach. 

“Beautiful,” Aziraphale breathed before leaning down and kissing a line across his stomach. 

Ohhh!” Crowley gasped, arching at the sensation. Aziraphale’s smile was warm against his skin. He continued to push up Crowley’s shirt, exposing his ribs and pressing a kiss against each bone, drawing embarrassing punched out sounds from Crowley. He bit his lips trying and failing to stop the sounds. Aziraphale had never touched him like this before, never with such slow and purposeful determination, and it was driving him a little insane. 

Aziraphale’s thumbs circled Crowley’s nipples, pinching them lightly then harder when Crowley pressed into the touch. 

“Do you like that, my love?” Aziraphale asked, rolling his hard nipples between his fingers. 

“I…It’s…oh!” Crowley cried out as his angel bit at his left nipple while pinching his right. “Oh, God—Satan— angel!” Aziraphale kissed the now swollen nipple, lavishing it with his tongue. 

“Was that too much, my darling?” Crowley’s hands clawed at the sheets, desperate for something to ground him. “Crowley, I asked you a question. Is it too much? Do you want me to stop?” Aziraphale twisted his right nipple hard and a strangled sob left Crowley’s mouth. 

Please, please, please,” Crowley begged, trembling from head to toe. 

“Please what, Crowley? Please stop? Or please keep going?”

“More, I, if you want, then—?”

“No no no,” Aziraphale tutted disapprovingly, scratching his nails lightly down Crowley’s chest then back up to his nipples drawing whines from Crowley’s lips.  “This isn’t about what I want. This is about what you want. The only thing I want is to make you feel so good and loved. So tell me, Crowley, what do you want?” 

“Fuck me!” Crowley sobbed, arching up into his angel’s touch. “Please, angel, just fuck me!”

“Oh, darling,” Aziraphale cooed, stretching up to kiss Crowley. Crowley whimpered into the kiss and clawed weakly at Aziraphale’s coat, trying to pull the angel closer to him. Aziraphale allowed it for a moment before pulling back. “Not yet, my love. Soon but not yet.”

He pulled off Crowley’s shirt, then took Crowley’s arms and gently stretched them out above his head, kissing his wrists as he did so. 

“Do you think you can keep your arms like that? Just for a little bit?” 

“I…I wanna… touch you,” Crowley panted. Fuck, he was so turned on. A few kisses and some light groping and Crowley felt moments away from coming. Aziraphale smiled, looking pleased with his answer. 

“You will, my love. I promise I will let you touch me. But can you leave your arms like this for a little bit? I want to touch you for a little longer, but it’s okay if you don’t want that.”

Crowley thought hard. On the one hand, he desperately wanted to touch Aziraphale. To flip him over and lavish his angel with his attention. To escape the weight of his angel’s eyes and overwhelming touch. But on the other hand…

It felt good. It felt so good to be touched. To feel something close to adoration in his angel’s fingers and mouth. 

“I…for a bit,” Crowley compromised. Aziraphale smiled proudly at Crowley and offered his a quick kiss. 

“That’s wonderful, my dear boy. Thank you.” 

Aziraphale kissed his mouth again, then his cheeks. Then his forehead and the tip of his nose. Both eye lids, then back to his mouth. 

“Beautiful,” Aziraphale purred as he mapped out Crowley’s face with his lips. “Absolutely lovely.” Crowley squeezed his eyes shut. Too much, too much, too—

“Crowley, my dear, do you need me to stop?” He shook his head and whimpered. 



“It’s…it’s just a lot,” he admitted weakly. “I’m…I’m okay, though. Promise.”

“Okay,” Aziraphale said slowly. “I’ll take you at your word. Are you able to open your pretty eyes for me?” Crowley shivered and shook his head. 

“That’s okay, my dear. I’m going to keep touching you, though, if that’s alright.”

“Fine,” Crowley agreed quickly. Anything to get Aziraphale to stop staring at him. 

Aziraphale resumed his kisses, moving down Crowley’s throat, biting at his collar and nipples, to his stomach and down to his hipbones, biting and sucking at the exposed bones. Each touch had Crowley squirming and writhing on the bed, unsure if he needed to press up or away from the sensations. 

“I’m going to remove your trousers, Crowley. Is that alright?”
No. Yes. Please touch me. No no, I don’t deserve it. Yes. No. Please. 



Chase away the thoughts, the doubts. Let me believe for just a moment that this is real. 

Aziraphale unbuttoned Crowley’s trousers and slid them down his legs. Crowley winced internally, the memory of his earlier panic and failure still fresh in his mind. He struggled to recall his angel’s earlier reassurance.

You deserve love and pleasure.”

He didn’t really believe that, but maybe his angel could believe it for him. 

“Perfection,” Aziraphale breathed. Crowley opened his eyes and saw his angel kneeling over him, stroking Crowley’s ankle and staring at him as though Crowley were a piece of art that was meant to be admired. “I don’t tell you nearly often enough, but you truly are the most beautiful thing God ever created.”

A sobbed forced its way past Crowley’s lips.

“I’m really not, angel.”

“Of course, you are,” Aziraphale said, so painfully earnest. “Remember, dearest, I would never lie to you and I say you deserve to be worshipped as the wonder that you are.” He ran his hands up Crowley’s calves, then his thighs, moving steadily towards an unspoken destination. “Will you let me worship you, Crowley?”

“I…demons don’t…you shouldn’t…” Crowley struggled to form a coherent argument. He knew it was wrong, Aziraphale worshipping him was wrong, but he couldn’t remember why. Aziraphale shook his head. 

“This isn’t a matter of should or shouldn’t. This is a question of love and wants. Do you want me to worship you? Am I allowed to show you how devoted I am to you, my wily beautiful demon?”8

A broken moan filled the room and Crowley realised belatedly it came from him. 

“Aziraphale, I…please,” Crowley begged, his need to be touched outweighing his self-hatred and insecurities. 

“Of course, love.” He took Crowley’s legs and draped them over his shoulders, stroking his hips softly. “Now, let’s try this again,” Aziraphale said cheerfully and took Crowley to root in one smooth motion. 

Crowley arched off the bed, barely remembering at the last moment to keep his arms where his angel had placed them.

“Oh fuck!” he cried. Aziraphale hummed in seeming agreement before hollowing his cheeks and sucking Crowley’s cock intently. Crowley writhed on the bed, fists clenching and unclenching as he desperately repressed the urge to grab onto Aziraphale.  

Angel, angel, angel, angel,” Crowley chanted mindlessly. The voice in his head was saying something, but the roar building in his ears blocked it out. Aziraphale pulled off his cock and smiled up at Crowley, taking him in hand with tight fast strokes. 

“You taste wonderful, darling,” he said conversationally, as if he wasn’t slowly but surely driving Crowley out of his mind. “I appreciate you letting me have you like this. If you aren’t opposed, I’d like to do it again in the future.”

“I…I….nngh,” Crowley replied intelligently. How on earth did the angel expect him to plan for the future when Crowley wasn’t sure if he currently existed in the present? Aziraphale hummed pleasantly 

“You don’t have to decide now, of course. But maybe after, you could let me know.” Crowley nodded, willing to agree to anything if it meant Aziraphale would get his mouth on him again. “Splendid.” He moved a little lower, mouthing and licking at Crowley’s balls before taking the tip of his cock back into his mouth. 

“Angel, please, I need—” 

“Are you close, my dear? Would you like to come?”

Yes, yes I’m close, you, you—ah!” Tension filled every part of Crowley’s body. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. There was no room left for anything that wasn’t Aziraphale.

“Do it, love.” Aziraphale pulled back, stroking Crowley’s cock and giving kitten licks to the head. “Pease? Let me see how beautiful you are when you come.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK! 

Crowley sobbed out his pleasure, helpless to do anything but obey his angel, White flashed across his vision as his hips bucked wildly before going limp in Aziraphale’s grasp. Chest heaving, body still twitching with aftershocks, he glanced up at Aziraphale and nearly came again. 

His angel’s face was cover in come, his come, splattered across his lips and cheeks. Crowley opened his mouth—either to groan or apologise, he wasn’t sure—when Aziraphale licked the come for the corner of his mouth and moaned. 

“Forgive me, my love, but you taste divine.” Crowley dropped his head back and groaned. 

Christ, angel. You…you can’t just say things like that,” he protested breathlessly. 

“Why not? It’s true.”

“I..uh…because…” Whatever argument Crowley had tried to form, died on his lips when Aziraphale took his now oversensitive cock in hand. 

“You did so wonderfully for me, darling,” he praised as he pumped Crowley’s cock leisurely. “You are simply stunning when you’re lost in pleasure.”

“ ‘Ziraphale,” Crowley whined with broken confusion. “What…what are you…?”

“Do you think you could come again, my love?” he asked, tightening his grip and stroking a little faster. “If I were to fuck you? You were begging for it earlier.”

A-angel?” He shook, unsure what to do with the pleasure shooting through his overstimulated body. 

“Is it too much, my dear?” The grip loosened and Crowley could hear genuine concern. 


“Only if you want it, my darling. If you’re done, then you’re done.”

“Can…can I touch you this time?” he asked breathlessly. Aziraphale laughed kindly and kissed the inside of Crowley’s knee. 

“Yes, my love.”

“O-okay then.”

“Are you certain? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No, I want to. I…I want you to fuck me. Please, just…let me touch you?”

“Of course.”

Crowley immediately tried to sit up, desperate to get closer to his angel and gave a small cry when he couldn’t. 

“Angel, please, I need…I need,” he pleaded, reaching out. Aziraphale shushed him and manoeuvred Crowley onto his lap. 

“It’s alright, my darling boy. I’ve got you.” Crowley curled up in his angel’s lap, clinging to him as if his life depended on it. It was only then he realised Aziraphale was still completely dressed. The power play normally would have been unbearably hot, but right now it was an unwanted barrier between himself and Aziraphale. He tugged on Aziraphale’s sleeve. 

“Need to feel you. Please, let me feel you.” Aziraphale kissed Crowley’s forehead. 

“Whatever you need, my love,” he assured and Crowley moaned as, with a quick miracle, Aziraphale’s clothes were gone, leaving him soft and warm. He wrapped his arms around his angel’s neck and whimpered as Aziraphale’s arms wrapped around his back, holding him close. 

“That better?”

“Yes. Thank you,” Crowley whispered into Aziraphale’s skin. Aziraphale rubbed Crowley’s back and kissed him again. 

“Of course, my darling. I would do anything for you. I love you so much.”


“It’s true, my love.” Aziraphale hand slipped down Crowley’s back and caressed Crowley’s arse. “I adore you. Everything about you.” He shifted Crowley slightly and oh, a finger was circling his entrance. 

“I love your mind, so brilliant, so imaginative. So unbelievably attractive.” 

The finger pushed in, miraculously slick, and Crowley hissed in satisfaction. 

Yesss, angel,—”

“I love your body,” Aziraphale continued as if Crowley hadn’t spoken, “and all the various forms you’ve taken over the years. Each one is more beautiful than the last and I always looked forward to seeing what would be new the next time we met.”

There were two fingers now, stretching and searching for Crowley’s prostrate. 

“I…were just clothes…ngk…”

“It was more than just clothes, my dear. It was you. It’s always been you. Even when I couldn’t admit it to myself, you’ve always been captivating.”

“Angel, I—Ah!” Crowley cried out and his hold on Aziraphale tightened with a well-placed thrust of his fingers. 

“Ah, there you are.”

Aziraphale’s fingers were merciless, pressing and rubbing hard against Crowley’s prostate, reducing him to a shaking mess in Aziraphale’s lap. And all the while, he wouldn’t stop talking. 

“So good, darling, so good. My beautiful clever boy. You take care of me so well,  you know. Always so good to me, but you deserve to be taken care of, too. Love taking care of you, making you feel so good and loved. Can I do this every day, my dearest? Simply worship you as I should?”

All Crowley could do was moan. His angel had three fingers in him, and Crowley was certain he had never been harder in his life. Every word of love—because it had to be love, there was nothing else it could be—sent Crowley spiralling. He didn’t know what to do with this endless praise, with the physical and emotional stimulation. He felt stretched out and raw, nearly at his breaking point and couldn’t tell if he needed to hide from or bask in his angel’s warmth. 

“A-angel, angel, please! Need you, please. D-don’t tease, I…I can’t. I need…please?”

“Go ahead, my love. Why don’t you touch yourself for me, hm? You deserve it.”

“No…I want—you haven’t—Azzziraphale.” Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand and wrapped it around Crowley’s cock, sending a spasm through his body.

“It’s alright, my love. Enjoy how good you feel. You deserve to feel this good, Crowley.”

Crowley whimpered as he obediently followed Aziraphale’s instructions and stoked himself. Aziraphale watched him with satisfaction then moved his hand it into Crowley’s hair and pulled, just enough to feel it, just the way Crowley liked. 

“Oh, oh! Yessss, oh, angel!” 

Aziraphale’s fingers pounded away inside him and Crowley couldn’t help but grind down, trying to get them deeper. Aziraphale tugged on Crowley’s hair, tilting his head down so he could speak directly in his ear. 

“Keep touching yourself, my dear. I want you to make yourself come and then I’ll make love to you.” Crowley let out a sob at his words, hand speeding up. “Do you want that, darling? Want me to make love to you? Take you apart over and over again, for hours maybe, until you’re so overwhelmed that you beg me to stop? Then maybe once more after?”

Please, yes, that pleassse! I…don’t deserve…but please…let me…”

“You deserve all my love, my dearest,” Aziraphale corrected, slipping a fourth finger inside Crowley. “And I would love every moment of it. Can you picture it, darling? Me filling your arse, your mouth, over and over. Lavishing you with my love until you couldn’t stand another moment?”

“Oh, fuck, angel, I…I…I—” He bucked wildly into his hand, then back down onto his angel’s fingers. He was so close, teetering on the edge. “ ‘Ziraphale, I…I—”

Aziraphale yanked Crowley’s head back and growled, “Come,” before biting hard at his exposed throat. 

Crowley bucked helplessly into his fist as streaks of come painted his hand, his stomach, Aziraphale’s chest, as Aziraphale worked him through his orgasm. After what felt like hours,9 he collapsed forward onto his angel, whimpering as Aziraphale continued to tease his prostate, sparks of overstimulation shooting through him.

“It’sss, toomuch, ‘Zira…too much, please,” he slurred, trying to pull away from Aziraphale’s insistent fingers. Aziraphale slid his fingers out and, despite himself, Crowley made a cry of distress at his sudden emptiness. 

  “I know, my darling. It’s alright.” He ran his fingers through Crowley’s sweaty hair and held him in place for a gentle kiss. “Do you need to stop? I know what I said, but if it’s too much—”

“No!” Crowley sat up as best he could and looked into Aziraphale’s eyes desperately. “It’s… it’s not too much. It is but…I… I like it. Please, angel! I want it, I..I do, I want it so bad, please? Love me?” 

Aziraphale’s eyes melted and he kissed him again, soft and sweet. 

“Whatever you wish. Will you turn around for me?” Crowley scrambled off his angel, onto his hands and knees, when a gentle hand to his waist stopped him. “No, my darling, like this.” 

And Aziraphale moved Crowley so he was sitting in his lap, back pressed up against Aziraphale’s chest, legs spread wide. “Let me do the work, my sweet boy, while you just enjoy.” Crowley nodded weakly, too desperate to protest even if he wanted to, and let Aziraphale wrap one arm around Crowley’s waist and his other hand guided his miraculously slicked cock into Crowley’s waiting entrance. 

Crowley let out a keening noise as his angel lowered him down onto Aziraphale’s cock in one slow thrust. He ground down on Aziraphale’s lap involuntarily, shuddering at the feeling of his angel’s delicious cock filling him so well. 

“Do you like that, my darling?” Crowley moaned in reply, heading lolling back in pleasure as Aziraphale gave a pointed thrust. He felt like he was floating now that he could feel his angel wrapped around him, and the arousal felt softer than before. 

“It’ssss good, angel. Ssssoo good.” Aziraphale hummed. 

“Oh, I do like you like this.” He rolled his hips, lazily fucking into Crowley. “All fucked out for me, mindless with pleasure. Simply gorgeous.” 

His free hand slid up Crowley’s chest, pinching and fondling his nipples. Crowley arched up into the touch, unintelligible sounds falling from his mouth as Aziraphale started thrusting up, harder and harder.

“I…I…yes…” Crowley cried, trying to beg for more.  Luckily his wonderful, brilliant, perfect angel knew exactly what Crowley needed. His arm tightened around Crowley’s hips and he snapped his hips up, fucking into Crowley hard and fast.

“That’s it, my love, my demon. Let me fill you up, my precious thing, and give you everything you deserve. And, my dear Crowley, you absolutely deserve this.”

And Aziraphale wing’s unfurled, wrapping protectively around Crowley, and Crowley just wailed. Pleasure and love in their purest form overwhelmed his body, and in that moment, he was truly nothing. Not a Fallen angel or a broken demon. Nothing but a vessel for Aziraphale to fill with his love and devotion. 

Aziraphale kissed the brand at Crowley’s temple and ran a soothing hand down his chest. “Yes, that’s right, darling, now you understand. You were built to be loved like this, and I long to spend the rest of eternity proving it to you.”

“I…I..ah fuck!” Crowley was shaking, unable to bear the weight of his angel’s love and unable to get away. The pleasure was sharper again, building steadily and Crowley didn’t want to come. He wanted to stay here, engulfed in the power and love of his angel until the world really did end. 

“Are you getting close, my love? Would you like to come?”

“No, I…please…don’t ssssstop,” Crowley begged. His arms fumbled uselessly for something to grab hold of, something to anchor him against the sensation threatening to drown him. 

“You seem terribly desperate, my dear, are you sure you don’t want to come?” Aziraphale teased, nipping at Crowley’s ear lobe.  “Don’t want to be overwhelmed with ecstasy?”

Too late for that.

“No…noah, ah ah! Don’t…please don’t…” 

“Crowley?” Aziraphale stopped moving and Crowley whined with disapproval.  “Darling, do you need to use your safeword?”

“No, I…I don’t want to…to sssstop,” Crowley sobbed, trying to grind down on his angel. “You…you…you promised. You said…you said for hours, angel. Please, please I—oh!”

Aziraphale adjusted his grip on hips and held Crowley’s securely in place as he started again, with a fast and punishing pace. 

“Is… is this what you need, my love? You…you need me to…to serve your pleasure for hours?” he panted into Crowley’s ear. 

Yes!” he cried, back arched and head rolled back on his angel’s shoulder. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!”

“I’m…I’m going to make you come—” Crowley made a sound of protest but Aziraphale hushed him “—and I’m going to keep going until I…fill you up with my come.”

Yes, please I—”

Then I’m going to roll you onto your stomach and cover you. With…with my wings…my body…and fill you again. And you’ll come again. Do…do you know why?”

“I…angel, I—”

“Because I love you and you deserve it.”


“Then I’ll—oh!—I’ll get you on your back, these…these gorgeous legs wrapped around me…and take you one more time. You’ll, oh darling, you’ll be so raw and oversensitive but you’ll be begging, won’t you?”

“Yes, yes, ohhhhh!”

But…this time,” Aziraphale groaned, finally started to sound as desperate as Crowley felt. “I won’t come…inside you, darling. Instead…I…I’m…going to take my cock in hand and stroke myself…spilling all over your trembling body, as a testament to my devotion to you.

“Angel, fu—”

“And do you know why?” Crowley nodded obediently, mindlessly. “Tell me.”

“I—oh, fuck, please!” Aziraphale gripped tightened and Crowley moaned at the thought of finding bruises on his hips later.

“Crowley, tell me.”

“B-b-because you—ah, aaah, ah—you love me…and I—yes, yes, oh!—I deserve it,” he wailed. Aziraphale kissed his brand again. 

Good boy,” he crooned. “Now, my beautiful perfect demon, come.

And with a desperate cry, Crowley did. 


When Crowley opened his eyes, the bedroom was darker, shadows kept at bay by the warm lamps on the nightstands. He moved to stretch out his fuck sore muscles and whimpered at the twinge. Without a miracle, Crowley was going to feel the ache for days, and he smiled. 

“Crowley, my love? Are you awake?” 

He looked up and saw Aziraphale, getting out of his reading chair and rushing over to Crowley. He reached for his angel, confused by the look of concern, and grew more confused when he couldn’t move his arms. Crowley glanced down at his body and found himself bundled up in what appeared to be three quilts, the duvet, and surrounded by a mountain of pillows. 

“Angel, what’s with all the fluff? You building a pillow fort or something?”

At least, that’s what he wanted to say. All he managed to get out was a garbled, “a-angel…?” before Aziraphale miracled a glass of water and held it gently to his lips. 

“Slowly, darling. That’s right, just a few sips.”

Crowley managed about half the glass before his angel pulled it away and put it on the nightstand. He stroked Crowley’s dishevelled hair back from his face, concern still in his eyes. 

“Is that better, love? How do you feel?” Crowley smiled lazily up at his angel. 

“Fucking fantastic.” He managed to lift the mountain blankets and jerked his head. “Join me?”

“Truly?” his angel asked as he miracled himself into a soft night gown and climbed into bed beside Crowley. “I…I know that was a lot earlier and—”

“Just how long ago is ‘earlier’, hmm?” Crowley asked, resting his head on his angel’s chest and smiling. “It feels like you fucked me for hours? Did you? After I came, did you keep going?”

“Of course not!” Aziraphale sounded positively affronted. “You were barely conscious, I never could have taken advantage—”

“Wouldn’t have minded,” Crowley promised. “I probably would have liked it, you just using me ’til you came.”

“Probably is not consent, Crowley,” Aziraphale said sternly. “You were hardly in a position to agree or refuse anything and I love you far too much to risk hurting over a probably.”

“You do, don’t you?” Crowley could hardly keep the wonder out of his voice. Aziraphale softened with understanding and nodded. 

“Yes, my dear. I love you so terribly much.”

He leaned down to kiss Crowley and Crowley just melted at his touch, tension seeping out of his body as he settled deeper into his nest of pillows and blankets. Eventually, Aziraphale pulled back, though not far, and smiled at Crowley. 

“Do you believe me, darling?”

Crowley thought for a moment, waiting for the voice to speak, remind him of all the reasons Crowley didn’t deserve Aziraphale’s love, didn’t deserve anyone’s love. But the voice was silent and he offered his angel a hesitant smile. 

“I…I think I do.” Aziraphale beamed down at Crowley. “It will take some getting used to,” Crowley warned. “And there may be days when I…I have doubts—”

“That’s alright, my love.”

“Cause I’m still…there’s still a lot. You know in there,” he tapped his head lightly. “And sometimes, I might—”

“Crowley, do I love you?” Aziraphale interrupted gently. Crowley gave a small nod. 

“Y-yes, you love me.”

“And do you deserve it?” He swallowed the lump in his throat, the protests and reasons ready to deny it, to insist the Fallen only deserve one thing, and nodded. 

“Yes…I deserve your love.” And to his surprise, it felt like he believed it. 

Aziraphale kissed the tip of his nose, love radiating off his angel in waves. The angel wrapped his arms around Crowley, pulling him securely against his chest and rubbed small circles against the small of his back. Crowley sighed sleepily and nuzzled closer to his angel. 

“That’s right, my darling. I love you so very much. Now rest.” He felt a kiss to the top of his head as he drifted off to sleep. “You deserve it.”