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Blurring the Lines
By Taleya
Crowley wasn’t exactly into foreplay.
At least not the human kind.
Aziraphale let out a startled ~whomph~ of air as he was slammed against
the wall of the book shop, the exhalation greedily captured by the pair of lips
that closed over his own. Smiling a little past the startlement, he reached out,
curling his fingers in the demons hair for a brief instant before his wrists
were grasped and slammed back into the wall, pinned with a force that would have
shattered humans bones.
He let his wrists go limp at the impact, fingers dangling down as Crowley
pressed against him, tilting his head and aiming for the demon’s throat with
teeth that nipped teasingly as he slipped a trouser-clad leg between those clad
in black jeans and rubbed teasingly upwards with his thigh.
Crowley ground against him for a moment, then pushed him away, clothes
disappearing with a thought, leaving two pale figures - one still wearing
sunglasses - caught in a tableau among the books and dust of the room.
Then Crowley moved.
Aziraphale was spun around, braced against the wall as a foot gently knocked his
ankles apart, leaving him spread-eagled and balancing on his palms. Claw-tipped
hands closed gently over his own for a moment, and he dug his fingers into the
plaster as they trailed down his arms to circle his nipples, moaning a little as
he felt the demon rub teasingly against him from behind.
Those claws scratched gently down his back, across his buttocks, down his thighs
as he twitched, all the way to his feet as the air pressure changed and a snake
curled about his feet, sinewy body twining around his legs.
Crowley flickered from snake to demon as he circled the angel's body, supple
skin to soft scales trailing around him, ankle to chest, around and around,
shifting and changing, warm, human tongue to tickling prongs that made
Aziraphale giggle, a cool contrast in the gentle sunlight that filtered through
the motes of dust.
Every inch of his body was explored and sampled as the snake slid over his
shoulder, nipping lightly down his back, human hands sliding slowly down the
backs of his thighs, hisses and soft chuckles intermingling and shifting
seamlessly from one to the other. A tail flicked teasingly in his ear as the
snake leisurely eased up between his legs, dragging its coiled strength against
his crotch with agonising slowness, gradually fading from slitted eyes and
scaled elegance to black sunglasses and human form, black wings unfolding with a
lazy grace to catch the angel when his knees buckled, a tongue trailing up his
torso from groin to throat. Claws raked gently up the inside of his thighs and
along his sides to pin his hands against the wall again as Crowley wrapped his
wings about them both and pulled their bodies tighter together, body undulating
against the other man’s in a deliciously obscene way, forked tongue flicking
teasingly at his lips before slowing to a halt, head tilted curiously at the odd
expression on the angel's face.
"Ah. Ack. One moment, please." Aziraphale wiggled his hands free for a moment
and daintily removed a stray feather from his mouth, sputtering his lips a
little to remove any fluffy remnants. Crowley allowed it, loosening the tight
grip of his wings as the angel shook out his own, tongue flicking idly at the
other man's wrist as long fingers reached up to remove his sunglasses, setting
them fussily aside.
The angel turned and looked into demonic yellow eyes, beaming contentedly. "Much
better."
Then he grabbed Crowley about the waist and tore through the roof.
Plaster burst from their bodies in a shower as they exploded through the roof,
laughter mingling as they surged upwards, two sets of wings railing against
gravity, tearing through the sky and punching through the clouds, revelling in
the sheer pleasure of flight.
Aziraphale took control, arms tight about the demon's waist as they slowed their
pace and swirled ever upwards in a gentle waltz. The earth spanned and spread
beneath them with a strange, ethereal beauty when viewed from this high, the air
shockingly cold against their naked bodies.
Crowley hissed in a high-pitched whine as small, even teeth drifted teasingly
against his left nipple, disappeared, then returned to bite down hard, hands
clawing in a frantic flurry at the white wings around them before swinging his
hips up and wrapping his legs around the angel's waist. Leaning back, he arched
in pleasure as Aziraphale worked his way down his chest, turning and twisting
his spine in an impossible way and swinging down to flick a forked tongue
against the waiting erection.
The angel squawked and collided with a cloudbank. There were a few confused
moments as they tumbled and looped crazily in midair, almost falling, and when
they had righted themselves the battle continued, hands tangling in hair, mouths
against flesh, half-whispered words and serpentine hisses. It wasn't love. It
wasn't lust. It was that wonderful twilight state between, the grey spaces
between black and white, the shadowed halls where they'd danced for millennia.
It was vicious and gentle. Terrible and wonderful. Part hunt, part play as they
stalked each other through the clouds and when the battle was won, it was the
angel who dominated, while the demon gave gladly.
Crowley began to burn as Aziraphale rocked inside him, faster and faster. Pain
and pleasure mingled and exploded in his mind, blood from bites and scratches
smearing both their bodies, chilling and slowing in the frigid air only to flash
to steam in the heat between them. Their auras collided and battled as he skater
closer and closer to the edge, flaming brighter and brighter, from the inside
out, feeling himself change, feeling the darkness leeching from his body. His
hands buried deeply into his partner's blonde hair, clutching him tighter and
tighter and his head lolled back, exposing the soft flesh of his throat to the
angel in wanton abandon, slitted eyes flashing crazily from yellow to green and
back again as his wings began to change colour, white seeping in from his
shoulders to spread throughout each feather in turn until only the very tips
remained black, as if in dipped in ink. The angel gasped as sharp teeth bit into
his shoulder, feeling legs wrap around him and pull him impossibly deeper as he
thrust, feeling the demon wrapped around him in every possible way, shuddering
and straining, his world a maelstrom of
feeltouchsmellsweatstrengthwanthavetakegivelovelovelove...
With a strangled scream, Crowley jerked in his arms. His wings snapped out
behind him, arching so far back they actually touched, and for a second the
entire skeleton of his human form was etched beneath his skin as he hung there,
shuddering, before falling backwards, only the angel's grip on his hips holding
him in place, arms and wings spread cruciform as the last of the black flicked
from his feathers and he blazed with Divine Ecstasy as orgasm took hold, light
roaring from every pore of his being.
And in that single, magnificent moment, Aziraphale saw the Angel that
Crowley had been.
He was breathtaking.
Aziraphale came with a joy that shook the earth below them.
Spent, they rolled through the air, wings tangled in wings, limbs twined
together, angelic blood shuddering against angelic blood, separated only by the
thin sheen of mortal skin. Aziraphale could taste sweat under his lips, feel the
frantic shuddering of the other man's heart under his cheek, the love of heaven
and the brush of darkness swirling comfortingly around him. Slender hands, warm
and kind, glowed softly as they gently cradled his head to the other man's
chest, cushioning him as they fell through the clouds, stroking along the very
top of his wings, holding on as they plunged to the earth, even as the ink
seeped back into those white wings and the very air burned around them.
Unknowing and uncaring, they fell together. Through the clouds. Through the sky
as it changed gentle hues, the earth spinning and circling hungrily below them,
growing ever larger. Locked together, wings wrapped around each other, they
plummeted through the atmosphere, postage-stamp sized towns looming larger and
larger, past the point of no return.
At the last possible second, two pairs of wings snapped open, halting their
descent, silhouetting them for a heartbreaking moment against the sun before
dropping them soundlessly into St. James' Park Lake
No one was there to see them. And if they had, they would never remember.
A blonde head broke the surface of the water, water sheening from peaceful
features as an angel forgot he didn't need to breathe. Familiar black feathers
broke the surface beside him and beat slowly against the water, then wrapped
around him as they sank again, a tiny trail of bubbles marking their path.
Crowley didn't do foreplay.
But he did do afterglows.
Note: If anyone wants to nitpick physics and impact craters in water
volumes, I point you to the lovely paragraph in The Book itself about angels and
demons and heads of a pin *
* And then I'll send a pack of mini-Crowleys after you.
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