goodtobebad | open post;

Aziraphale still isn't all that keen on sleeping. He has, however, become an enthusiastic fan of letting Crowley use him as a pillow.

The actual arrangement varies. Sometimes Aziraphale sits in bed and reads, while Crowley curls around him one way or another, arms around his waist or head on his lap. Quite often Aziraphale takes advantage of the opportunity to play with Crowley's hair, light teasing strokes. He's asked the demon to grow it out again, please, it's so very, very beautiful in the light, and also it would give certain activities they now participate in a distinct additional thrill. The groan Crowley had let out upon realizing what Aziraphale meant suggested that he would eventually get his way in that matter.

Sometimes it's simpler, and they spend countless hours loving each other, teasing, worshipping, or just plain fucking (Aziraphale saves the word for opportune moments; crudity has its place but should be used sparingly for maximum effect), and then they collapse on each other and lie in bed, dozing or talking or just lying in silence and being.

Aziraphale likes those times best, with Crowley's head on his chest, above his heart, and the demon's body sprawled all over the rest of the bed, while Aziraphale lies peaceful and trails fingers down Crowley's spine, sheets and blankets a tangle atop them. Crowley's skin almost glows in the moonlight, and the fire of his hair is dimmed, but it doesn't matter. Aziraphale knows all of him by heart now, all the pieces he was never allowed to touch before, all the privileges they were never able to grant each other. All is known. Knowledge, the gift of the Serpent...Aziraphale smiles to himself and lifts his head to kiss Crowley's hair. "My love?" he asks quietly, seeing if Crowley is awake or still drowsing.

Crowley is, quite simply, the happiest he's been... pretty much in his entire existence. Aziraphale has always been the best thing in his life, and things have only been better since they helped stop the Apocalypse.

He's half-dozing right now, lazy and warm and comfortable all wrapped around the angel. "Mmf?" he replies, unable to stop the little ball of warmth and light in his chest whenever Aziraphale uses endearments like "my dear" or "my love".

Aziraphale chuckles affectionately. Crowley the most diverse assortment of incomprehensible noises of anyone he's ever met, and he loves every single one of them. "Are you awake enough for conversation, dearest, or should I let you sleep? Only, there's something I've been wanting to discuss with you. But it can wait, if you like."

And in truth there's no rush, not really. Such a wondrous gift that is, the gift of time.

Hmm. Talk to his angel, or let himself doze off for a bit? Tough decision, really, both are pretty nice, especially since both involve Aziraphale being here.

Crowley might be damned for eternity, but he's also damned lucky.

Eventually he sits up a bit, pressing a kiss to Aziraphale's neck. "Sure, let's talk. What's on your mind?"

Aziraphale tilts his neck to make space for the kiss, sighing. "Oh, it's nothing so very important, I suppose, just a little idea I had..." Nervous flustering words, and the hand not occupied with Crowley's back twists the bed linens between thumb and forefinger. Aziraphale always fiddles with something physical when he's nervous, but the lack of clothing has removed his usual preferred options of watch chain or waistcoat. "I daresay you won't be interested, but...well, that is..."

Hopefully he'll get to the point sometime during the next year or so.

The moment he says that thing about it not being important, starts fidgeting, Crowley realizes it might actually be somewhat important, at least to the angel. He pauses for just a moment, then resumes kissing his neck, because getting him to relax is probably a good idea if he’s working himself up about this.

“Try me,” he murmurs against the angel’s skin. There is an almost 100% chance that whatever it is, Crowley will agree to it immediately.

The neck kissing is both very welcome and very unwelcome. Welcome in that it means he doesn't need to look at Crowley's face as he says this, and of course it feels very pleasant indeed, but it is also rather distracting...Aziraphale shivers. "Well, I was wondering...of course I love my bookshop, and I'm sure you're very fond of this flat, but I thought it might be nice if..." He takes a deep breath, which gets interrupted partway through by a gasp. Crowley is much too clever with his mouth. "If we...perhaps...found a place for both of us?"

The end comes out a bit squeaky, which could be nervousness or distraction.

Crowley is also getting a little distracted by the angel’s skin, but eventually the question comes out, and he’s able to parse it. He pulls back, forcing that look now.

“What, you want to move in together?” He pauses a beat, then shrugs. “Sure, sounds like a great idea. I don’t care about the flat all that much. We could set up the flat above your shop if you want.”

Oh. Well, that was much easier than Aziraphale expected, and he beams. Congrats, Crowley, you have one very happy angel on your hands. Or rather, under them. "We could do, yes. Though...I was also thinking it might be nice to spend a little time outside of London. I rather feel we've both earned a holiday. And that flat would be a little crowded for us both."

That does surprise him a little. “You want to leave London? Really? I mean, sure, we can go wherever you want. But you love London.”

"Very much," Aziraphale admits. "And I wouldn't want to go too far away, not so far that we couldn't nip into town for dinner, for example, when we were in the mood. But..." He reaches up and strokes Crowley's hair, curls fingers behind his ear. His expression is soft, even by his usual standards. "I would rather like to...to have you all to myself, for a while, somewhere new. Someplace with no memories for either of us except the ones we make together. Somewhere that's just ours."

Why does Aziraphale have to be so... so... good, all the time? So sweet and... and angelic? It's more than enough to make Crowley melt all over him. Well, that, and the petting. He's a sucker for the petting. He's growing his hair back out, he likes it so much.

"Yeah, that... that sounds great," he admits, closing his eyes in pleasure at the touches. "We could, uh, do this, all the time."

"That was part of the appeal, rather," Aziraphale murmurs, with more than a hint of a smirk. He enjoys the petting very much, and enjoys Crowley's evident enjoyment of it even more. "We could get a larger bed, for one thing."

"Oh yeah?" Crowley snickers at the thought. "And what would you do with a bigger bed, hm? You don't sleep..."

He pokes the angel gently in the side, nipping at his shoulder playfully.

Aziraphale's smirk grows as he scrapes his nails down Crowley's spine, from neck all the way down to buttocks. "I daresay I could keep myself occupied."

Crowley hums happily. So what if they've already had a go tonight? They can do whatever they like, as often as they like.

"Occupied... reading a good book?" he suggests, insinuating his leg between Aziraphale's thighs.

Aziraphale has always believed that if you're going to enjoy a thing, enjoy it thoroughly. And he does so enjoy Crowley. He makes space willingly for Crowley's leg, squeezes his thighs around it, lets his hand wander lower and cup the demon's arse. "Of course," he says primly, the very image of a prissy angel--if one ignores the light of bastardry in his eyes. And the way his hair is tousled in a way that strongly suggests I was thoroughly debauched and debauched earlier, and I quite liked it. "What else would one do in a bed, if one doesn't sleep?"

"Hm," Crowley hums thoughtfully, between kisses. "I'm thinking of a few things right now, actually..."

The angel is just so soft and warm and also enthusiastic, it's rather intoxicating when you get right down to it, and Crowley is definitely getting down to it, licking into the angel's mouth eagerly as they kiss, pressed close as they can get.

"Are you really?" Aziraphale breathes, somewhere between swiping his tongue across the roof of Crowley's mouth and tugging at his lower lip. Crowley's eagerness is heady, and the way he's so physically affectionate these days a source of constant delight. Aziraphale has always been a little too hedonistic, and oh, how he indulges himself now... "Do enlighten me, my dear."

Crowley grins, keeping him close. He's never been the touchy-feely sort, but with the angel, he can't get enough.

"Well, with a nice big bed, I could massage your wings," he points out, letting his voice drop a bit to a more seductive tenor. "Rub you down all over."

"Oh--" Aziraphale's lips part at that idea, his eyes darkening, his fingers suddenly curling harder into Crowley's skin. Somehow that's an idea that hadn't yet occurred to him. The fact that it's said in that downright sinful voice only makes it more appealing. "I...would like that. Very much."

He trails his hands back up on Crowley's back, brushing his fingertips along the line where Crowley's wings would appear, if they were manifest. "I should like to do the same to you. Such light, teasing touches of fingers, soft brushes of thumb, suggestive. "Stroke all your feathers and kiss my way down your spine at the same time. Bite the back of your neck--"

He suits action to word in part, his mouth moving down to Crowley's neck, scraping teeth over his pulse-point. "Press you face down into the mattress and take you from behind, with my teeth in your neck and your wings spread under me--"

His hands are moving more urgently now, clutching at Crowley's skin to get him closer.

Aziraphale has such a perfect combination of imagination and a way with words, it’s a wonder Crowley doesn’t just discorporate on the spot. His cock gives an eager sort of twitch at the thought, and he shivers under the touches.

“Please,” he groans, fingers sliding lower, seeking Aziraphale’s cock.

"Hmm?" Aziraphale leans back enough to look Crowley in the face, his expression a little too innocent, his eyes shining with mirth. "Did you want something, dearest?"

As though he can't feel Crowley's cock hard and twitching against his leg, as though he doesn't hiss breath in a little as long, clever fingers wrap around him.

“Ngh,” is Crowley’s response, because as Aziraphale gets more articulate, he tends to get less so. Not that he’s ever especially articulate.

He strokes the angel’s cock, pressing kisses to his neck.

“You,” he finally manages. “Want you.”

Aziraphale feels a thrill of pride every time he manages this, and suspects he always will. "Are you saying," he murmurs, his mouth somewhere near Crowley's ear, hot breath stirring his hair. "That I've tempted you?" He moves his hips slowly, stroking into Crowley's hand, but not too fast, not yet. Some things deserve to be savoured.

This is Ashfae, this is my Aziraphale, ISTR you wanted some fluff and/or smut...?

um YES PLZ

WHOOHOO

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