There's a First Time for Everything @raichel
There's a First Time for Everything

It had been months since the not-pocalypse. That wasn’t much time at all compared to 6,000 years. Still, it had been easy for Crowley and Aziraphale to get truly comfortable together once they were finally on their own side. It didn’t take long for the few remaining barriers between them to break down, and some frank conversations to surface about feelings and such. 

By this time they were exchanging casual kisses, holding hands regularly, and readily engaging in most any show of affection. By human standards one would probably say they were dating. They would probably say they were together. In love, certainly, but most accurately, they were as dedicated to each other as ever, and no longer so concerned about being touchy-feely about it.

There was enough intimacy between them, even, that Crowley wasn’t particularly surprised when Aziraphale sprawled out across his lap. It did help that they’d downed a bottle of wine between them by now.

There was enough intimacy between them, even, that Crowley wasn’t particularly surprised when Aziraphale sprawled out across his lap. It did help that they’d downed a bottle of wine between them by now.

“Yes Angel?” he asked, looking down at Aziraphale, who was grinning up at him.

“You know my dear, you could go a little faster,” Aziraphale told him, “if you wanted.”

“What?” he asked.

“I told you, a few decades ago, that you went too fast,” Aziraphale tried to clarify, propping himself up haphazardly, one arm braced against the sofa beside Crowley’s legs, to get their faces closer together. The gears were just barely starting to turn in Crowley’s mind. “I’m not so concerned about that anymore.” There was a hint of bastard in Aziraphale’s smile, Crowley would know it anywhere, but it was rarely pointed at him. 

The almost-sly grin, and the angel’s words, thick with import, were starting to get their point across.

“You mean faster in, er, relationship terms?” Crowley asked, as Aziraphale re-situated himself to sit in Crowley’s lap, straddling him. Crowley’s chest was starting to feel tight.

“If you would be interested,” Aziraphale clarified, one hand playing with Crowley’s scarf as he leaned down to trail kisses along the demon’s neck. Crowley’s breath caught in his throat, a hand clutching at the back of Aziraphale’s vest (his old, beloved coat had been hung up hours ago, beside Crowley’s jacket, when they returned to the bookshop). 

Angel,” Crowley gasped, as Aziraphale tangled his hand in Crowley’s hair, still peppering him with kisses. “Angel, I can’t do this tipsy,” he said, nudging Aziraphale’s head back up so that he could look him in the eye. 

“Of course, love,” Aziraphale said, placing a quick kiss on his lips. With some effort they sobered up properly, but the moment the bottle was full Aziraphale pulled Crowley into a deep kiss, and, even sober, the demon gladly lost himself in it. Locked in kisses, Aziraphale’s hands started to wander, one drifting up from Crowley’s waist to his chest, his neck, back into his hair (one of the demon’s greater weaknesses). The other settled around Crowley’s hips, Aziraphale dragging his thumb against the skin just under the waist of the demon’s (notoriously tight) pants. 

“Is this alright?” Aziraphale asked, barely a centimeter between their lips. 

Crowley nodded, and the hand crept down over his pants, coming to rest between Crowley’s legs. He wondered if his heart may’ve stopped beating (or was it beating too fast to tell?). 

“You seem very tense, dear,” Aziraphale said, pulling away (just barely) for a moment. He kept their faces close as he climbed back off of Crowley’s lap to sit beside him, always facing him properly. “Are you sure this is alright?”

“Yes,” Crowley told him, perhaps too eager. The angel’s hand was still at the front of his mind. And his pants. He’d thought about this sort of thing plenty of times, on and off over the centuries, the millennia. “Please,” he added, not that that made him sound any less desperate. He shifted to better face Aziraphale, and pulled him into another kiss. That helped smother the very un-demonic whimper he nearly let out as Aziraphale worked the button on Crowley’s pants loose. 

Aziraphale broke the kiss again, and considered his next question carefully,

“Have you—“ the demon was looking intently at him, still tense as a bridge cable, or a rubber band, ready to be fired at the back of someone’s head. “have you never—?”

“I’ve done some things,” Crowley retorted. “performed some favors, er, entertained myself…”

“But never, actually, had sex?” Aziraphale pressed. There was something a little strange about hearing such a comment from the angel’s mouth.

“Not really, no,” Crowley hurriedly admitted. No one had ever gotten so close to Crowley as Aziraphale was now. (Honestly, he wouldn’t have been particularly interested in such attention from anyone else.) 

“And you’re really alright with this?” Aziraphale prompted, once more. 

“Yes, Angel,” Crowley assured him, breathless, before pulling him back into the kiss. The angel’s warm hand was pressing against his cool skin when a thought hit him,

You’ve had sex?!” Crowley spluttered, jerking away from Aziraphale.

“Not often,” the angel retorted, “mostly, as you said, favors, which were sometimes returned, but not always. There was a particularly involved romp or two… Very interesting nights out with Oscar, of course—“

“Who?!”

“It doesn’t matter, dear,” Aziraphale assured him, giving him a kiss, “no one compares to you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m more concerned about an angel of the lord walking around seducing people!”

“Who said anything about seduction?” Aziraphale retorted. “It was all good, consensual fun, and not very much of that! But, you know, things happen in 6,000 years.”

“I suppose,” Crowley shrugged. “With women?” he added. That’d be even more ludicrous.

“Unless I’ve really forgotten something, no,” Aziraphale said, “but really my dear,” he added, voice lowering as he leaned toward Crowley, “I have higher priorities right now than giving you a detailed account of my sexual escapades.” As Aziraphale slid his hand into Crowley’s pants, Crowley’s breath caught and all questions about the angel’s sex life were flung from his mind. 

Aziraphale hesitated.

“My dear boy,” he said, tentative, as his hand searched around between Crowley’s legs, “have you, er, made an eff—“ Crowley gasped, stopping just short of an embarrassing squeak, and clutched at Aziraphale as the angel found what he was looking for, but not what he’d expected. “Oh,” Aziraphale chirped, realizing what he’d found, his fingers moving around in exploratory strokes and circles. “I wasn’t expecting that,” he admitted. 

“I put it on for fun, to go along with the nannying job, and just haven’t bothered to switch it around again since,” Crowley tried to explain himself, working hard to keep his composure. His breath caught again as Aziraphale swiped over a particularly sensitive spot. Recovering quickly, he added, “You’ve not had much experience in the vagina department, I’d bet.”

“No, not much at all,” Aziraphale confirmed, “but I’m more than happy to learn,” he added, that sly edge creeping back into his smile. Aziraphale put more intention into his wandering fingers, pulling a whimper out of Crowley. He buried his head in Aziraphale’s shoulder, shuddering under his angel’s touch.

“Angel,” he moaned between heavy breaths, Aziraphale steadily zeroing in on the most effective, most sensitive areas around Crowley’s clit. “Oh, fuck,” he whined, rocking against Aziraphale’s hand, his body begging for more. He pulled the angel back into a kiss for a moment before begging, “Fuck me harder, Angel,”

“Gladly, my dear,” Aziraphale purred, and Crowley’s head fell back down onto the angel’s shoulder with a moan as he picked up speed. “Are you alright?” Aziraphale added as Crowley convulsed with pleasure, gasping for air and gripping at the back of Aziraphale’s shirt.

“Ne— never better,” Crowley managed, hardly able to keep his eyes open. 

“Are you sure?” Aziraphale asked a moment later, slowing to a stop. 

Crowley looked up, reluctantly dragging his wits back from mindless pleasure. 

“What?” Aziraphale asked, as Crowley’s eyes scanned his face.

“You mean it,” Crowley concluded, having taken in the angel’s expression. “I wasn’t sure if you were genuinely concerned or being a bastard.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale replied, just before the sly grin drifted back onto his face, “do you not want me to stop?” he asked, slowly dragging his hand out from under Crowley’s clothes, and pulling a whine out of the demon with it.

“You bastard,” Crowley snarled with a grin, grabbing Aziraphale’s collar in one hand and pulling him into a kiss, his other hand flying out to the side with a *snap* and a demonic miracle.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Aziraphale asked, his bastardly grin unfazed by having been miracled onto his bed. He was more than happy to be flat on his back, straddled by a flustered and semi-disheveled Crowley.

“You have something I want, Angel,” Crowley noted, grabbing the angel’s wrists and properly pinning him to the bed.

“And what’s that, dear?” Aziraphale played smugly dumb.

“The ability to fuck me ’til I can’t think straight.”

“You’ve ever thought straight?” Aziraphale asked.

“Probably not,” Crowley admitted with half a shrug, though he made no move to release Aziraphale’s wrists. “Have you?”

“Heavens no,” Aziraphale said. “But wouldn’t I need my hands—“ he wiggled his fingers for emphasis, “—to help you with that?”

“You would,” Crowley relented, though he didn’t move a muscle, “but now that I have you here…” he purred, leaning down to kiss the angel’s neck, and Aziraphale hummed contently, letting his eyes drift closed and starting to loose himself in the sensation. 

As he kissed up and down Aziraphale’s neck Crowley ground his hips slowly against Aziraphale’s. The single motion was as much a tiny release for his pent-up arousal as it was exploratory, and what he found himself grinding against was hard, to say the least. 

Crowley added a nip in among the kisses on Aziraphale’s neck and he could hear a hitch in the angel’s breath. He placed a kiss on the same spot and belatedly asked,

“Was that alright, Angel?”

“Oh, yes,” Aziraphale assured him, and Crowley was very pleased to hear a breathlessness behind those words. 

He shifted his weight to be able to kiss Aziraphale properly, and realized he had absently continued grinding, slowly, against Aziraphale. As his mind wandered to what rested there, under just a few layers of fabric (and a strong argument could be made that it wasn’t resting at all, but standing at attention) a thought lodged itself firmly in Crowley’s mind; someone help him, he wanted it something awful.

It didn’t help anything when Aziraphale moaned into the kiss, hips reflexively bucking up toward Crowley.

Sssshhit, Angel,” Crowley hissed, breaking the kiss and letting his head hang down towards Aziraphale’s shoulder. There was nothing for it but to ask (he’d beg at this point, if he had to), though Crowley was having a hard time coming up with a remotely tactful or smooth way to say “Holy fuck, Aziraphale, I want your dick inside me as quickly as possible.” That did seem especially forward, so instead he tried, “Please fuck me.”

“Gladly, my dear,” was Aziraphale’s eager response, “I desperately want to hear those lovely gasps and moans again,” Crowley’s heart leapt at the idea, “but I’d need—“ he wiggled his fingers again.

“Right, yeah, of course,” Crowley said, letting go of his wrists, “but, forget the hands, would you fuck me? Please,” he added, still straddling the angel, trying not to think too hard about the dick that he could still definitely feel underneath him. He didn’t really see it ‘click’ with Aziraphale, so he pressed on, “like, er, round peg, round hole, er… A-Adam and Eve style?”

“Oh!” Aziraphale chirped, “Are you sure?”

Yes,” Crowley assured him, “please,” he begged.

“I’ll be happy to,” Aziraphale replied, “though we really don’t need this many clothes for that.”

“No, not really,” Crowley agreed, and began pulling his shirt over his head. By the time he’d succeeded in getting it off and was no longer shrouded in shirt-based darkness, Aziraphale had snapped twice, and, miraculously, Crowley found them both completely undressed, and himself lying flat on his back.

“Impatient, Angel?” he asked with a smirk, looking up at Aziraphale, sitting between his legs.

“Sorry,” Aziraphale sheepishly replied, “I can—“

“You can do whatever you want,” Crowley told him, sitting up to kiss him again.

“Well then,” Aziraphale purred when they broke the kiss. He dragged a thumb up the length of Crowley’s slit as he continued, “would you lay back for me?” Crowley whined under the direct touch to his neglected clit, and he gladly obliged, falling back against the pillows.

“Er, do you suppose we should lubricate—“ Aziraphale started, hesitantly, but Crowley cut him off,

“Vaginas are self lubricating, it’s fine.” (He was not exactly right about this: a little lube is never a bad idea. But the important thing was that Crowley believed this to be true, and that was more than enough for it to apply to his vagina. Especially in his moment of desperation.)

Crowley winced when Aziraphale put it in, and was quickly asked,

“Are you alright, my dear?”

“Yesssss…” Crowley assured him. “Fuck, that feels good,” he muttered as Aziraphale began thrusting in and out.

“Oh, heavens, it does,” Aziraphale moaned in agreement.

This was a new and pleasant sensation for Crowley. Even when he did have this equipment, he rarely put anything up there other than his own two fingers, and a real, flesh-and-blood penis (attached to Aziraphale no less!) was a fabulous new development. It wasn’t as pointed and overwhelming a sensation as from the pleasure centers of the clit, but it was more than enough for him to get lost in.

“If I was reading you right earlier,” Aziraphale noted, running his hand down the inside of the demon’s leg, and pulling Crowley from his own thoughts after a minute or two, “this is also quite pleasant,” he concluded, his thumb pressing into his clit.

Crowley gripped at the sheets and his eyes threatened to roll back into his head as the pleasure hit him like a freight train and most, if not all, coherent thought fled his mind.

“Oh, fuck, Aziraphale,” he moaned, completely overwhelmed.

“Are you alri—“

Please don’t stop,” Crowley begged, breathless. 

“If you insist,” Aziraphale chuckled, leaning down to kiss Crowley, though that was more of a challenge as Crowley had begun shaking with pleasure. “I love you, Crowley,” Aziraphale moaned, and Crowley shuddered, that much closer to an indeterminate edge that was, presumably, some kind of orgasm. (At this point he was so far from anything he’d ever been able to do to himself that all bets are off. Not that it mattered, this felt fantastic.)

“Angel,” he whimpered, between gasping for air, “I love you too.”

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” Aziraphale noted, his breathing heavy.

“Yessssss…” Crowley slurred, eyes screwed shut. He wondered fleetingly how long he could take this intensity, but the last thing he wanted was for this to stop. He had the distinct sensation of something building, a feeling more familiar from the other orgasms he’d experienced, and, holy Hell, these sensations were already comparable to orgasm. If there was something further? Something more? It might discorporate him.

Only one way to find out.

It took several minutes of moaning and writhing in pleasure. He was beginning to wonder if his corporation could take all this convulsing, no matter how pleasant it was to get so thoroughly fucked, and Aziraphale was steadily picking up speed, when the orgasm hit.

“Oh, fuck,” he hissed as the spasms of pleasure seemed to reach every part of his body and the only thing he could seem to use his mouth for was breathing. His eyes rolled back, his arms tensed, his fists clenched in the sheets, his toes curled, and his body shuddered and spasmed as the orgasm overtook him. He was able to ride the euphoria for a minute or two before fumbling to grab Aziraphale’s wrist,

“Stop, stop,” he panted, and the angel dutifully stilled, 

“I’m sorry—“

“No, no,” Crowley chuckled, “that’s amazing, I just can’t take it anymore.”

“You’re sure I should stop?” Aziraphale prompted, trying to read Crowley. The demon hesitated.

“Not really,” he admitted. “how are you?” he added, reaching up to run a hand through the angel’s hair.

“V-very close, I think,” Aziraphale whimpered, trying and failing to hide his desire.

“Then keep going,” Crowley told him, “But— don’t touch the clit,” he added quickly, “please. I might explode.”

“Of course, love. You’re sure?” he added again.

“Yes!” Crowley chuckled, pulling Aziraphale back down into a kiss and wrapping his legs around him. Aziraphale was quick to get back up to speed, and with a little more concentration to spare, Crowley could really appreciate the whimpers and whines from the angel. He couldn’t help but mirror some of Aziraphale’s moans, mesmerized by his angel and still very much enjoying the experience. He had to assume Aziraphale was getting close as he buried his head in Crowley’s shoulder, practically flat against him. “I love you, Aziraphale,” Crowley mumbled, dragging his hand through Aziraphale’s hair and dotting his neck with kisses. The angel moaned, gripping at Crowley, and it wasn’t long before he came.

Now that was a sensation Crowley had definitely never experienced. No amount of cucumbers or fingers could’ve mimicked that.

Moments later Aziraphale collapsed beside him, still breathing heavily.

“Oh dear,” he muttered, “I forgot to tell you I love you, too.”

“I know you do, Angel,” Crowley assured him with a kiss, “and it seems you had a few other things on your mind.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale admitted, “I don’t know that I was thinking very clearly.”

“Thank you,” Crowley told him, looking his angel in the eye.

“Thank you, my dear,” Aziraphale returned, and they both chuckled, breathless, in the euphoria of it all.

“And clean up will be a snap,” Crowley added, with a grin and an earthly (powerless) snap for emphasis.

“It will!” Aziraphale agreed, “Though… we could always go another round.”

“We could,” Crowley agreed, falling into more kisses before adding, “It seemed like a mutually enjoyable thing.”

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