Title: Unfettered
Author: Nancy Hartigan
Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley
Fandom: Good Omens
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Good Omens belongs to the geniuses known as Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman.
Note: My first full-length fanfiction for Good Omens. Written for my friend Cassie, who is an avid Crowley/Aziraphale fan. The story takes place post Apocalypse. I think that about covers it. I do not own Good Omens and make no profit off of this story.
Summary: The Apocalypse has been averted, and tomorrow is the first day of the rest of their lives. Unfortunately, Aziraphale's bookstore is burned down, so he decides to spend the first night at his friend's London flat.***
Aziraphale leaned against the door of the Jeep. They had been driving for several hours by now, dropping off the others at their respective homes, which was all well and good, but he was still trying to get over the loss of his precious bookstore.
Crowley was more depressed by the charred remains of the Bentley, however. He had decided that, dammit, he liked the car enough to drag its skeletal remains home to try to maybe someday repair. Sure, he could just miracle it back to its former glory, but where was the fun in that?
"This was....quite a day, don't you think?" Aziraphale asked idly, watching the moonlit stretch of forest pass by.
"A near miss to the end of the world probably counts, yes," Crowley replied lazily.
"What are you going to do about your car?"
Crowley looked to the skeleton he was dragging along. "Well, you keep saying I need a better cover. I'm going to restore it."
"By hand?"
"How else?"
"My dear, don't you know how long that will take?"
"Well, we've got forever now, you know."
The angel smiled. "Yes. Turn on the headlights."
"This is a stolen Jeep, angel."
"You will be returning it, right?"
"Once we get to my place so that I can actually work on my car. I might actually buy a second for now. I'm thinking something Italian."
"...Really, dear."
The snake allowed the Jeep to self-steer as he leaned back. "Quite frankly, I am not in the mood for dealing with the dribble of used car dealers anyway. I can just buy straight from the factory in order to prevent any problems."
It was true that Crowley had an issue with the quality of modern cars. There was not a single one of them that could have held together the way that his last car had in the case of getting to the airbase. If he could do it all again, he would have...
...probably not have made M-25. That was the problem. The traffic jam hadn't helped, of course, but what really killed the Bentley had been the sigil he formed out of that damn highway around London. On second thought, he probably would have just avoided living in London. The surburbs were so much better anyway.
Aziraphale made a noncommittal sounds and continued to look out the window. "I have a lot of work to do tonight and no bookstore to go to."
"Are you going to want to hit somewhere to drown your sorrows?"
"No, I'm quite alright. Once we get to your place, I'll just have to get to work. It is likely going to take all night, but it will keep my mind off of things."
"I'd think that you would be forced to focus on it, angel, but whatever you say."
"Oh, no, the numbers will help."
Crowley shrugged, going back to driving now that he finished stretching. "To be perfectly honest, I'm glad that this whole disaster has been dealt with. I do like this planet, and we've been here since before two gits showed up, so why should we have to leave?"
"I will have to go back to Him eventually, you know."
"And I'll probably have to check in with somebody Below soon, unless I got my ass bolted."
"Crowley."
"What?"
"Do watch your language, my dear, it's not very becoming to hear you speak that way."
"Do you know how much trouble I got into when they discovered that the boy was not the Antichrist?"
"It did buy us a good deal of time."
The two fell into a companionable silence as daybreak -- and London -- got closer.
---
With a wave of his hand, Aziraphale sent the Jeep back to its proper place. Crowley sighed, leaving his hunk of junk that was once his beloved Bentley where it lay, knowing that no one is going to pay attention to it.
"Come on"? he said, grabbing Aziraphale by the arm. "My apartment's up on the upper floors."
Usually, Crowley would have taken the stairs, but after everything that had happened on this particular evening, he decided to opt for the elevator. There was no shame in taking advantage of human technology, after all. If they were going to find ways to feed their sloth, then Crowley was not going to interrupt it. Crowley's reaction to the invention had been simply to copy a set of blue prints and send them Below without a single message. Of course, Down There had never been a place for doing things without explicit orders, so it had yet to take advantage of his work.
Aziraphale looked up at the ceiling, bracing himself as Crowley pressed the button and the small room lurched to life. "I will never get used to this."
"Yeah, it's definitely not something we're used to. We need a couple of these Below."
"I'd swear these are one of yours..."
"No, this is entirely human."
He sighed softly. "Simply ineffable."
"Yeah. You'd never believe what humans can come up with. Give a man enough time and he will find out how to split an atom and harness that energy to either bring light to an entire city or destroy it."
"It's only natural to want to bring light to it."
"After tonight, you are still comfortable saying that?"
Aziraphale smiled. ?There was nothing but love in the heart of the Antichrist, my dear. He would choose to light that town."
"What of London, then? Or Amsterdam? I know if I had that power, this place is going up. Manchester will stay, though."
"What do you have against Amsterdam? It's doing the job for you."
"That is precisely the problem."
Crowley knew that humans were far more creative than any demon could ever hope to be. After everything that he had witnessed since the beginning of time, he knew that they had absolutely no limits on their creativity, good and bad.
He remembered sitting in the Bentley with Aziraphale as a tunnel built under the channel opened. Aziraphale had treated him to a croque monsieur for lunch and Crowley paid for the beef burgundy and matching wine that Aziraphale had for dinner. They even split the hotel bill.
Then again, Crowley also remembered helping Aziraphale pack his books and joining him as he went to a much safer place as the sound of shattering cobblestone and sirens exploded into his brain and the world shook beneath their feet and books tumbled from their shelves.
Tonight was somewhere in between the two. Armageddon just happened. There was no denying that the kraken had risen, fish were thrown from the sea, Hell and Heaven were ready to throw up their arms and show the other side just what they got until there was not a single opposing member left....and then Armageddon was over, simply because the Antichrist himself wanted some time to discover the world for himself.
Ineffable Plan indeed.
---
Crowley led Aziraphale through his door into the flawless white of his apartment. Aziraphale had blushed, naturally, simply muttering ?luxurious? as he made his way past the plants and into the door that Crowley had assured him was his office. Crowley looked at the head of his mister and sighed dejectedly, remembering that Hastur had dissolved the bulb several hours ago. The desk was slightly warped and still damp from the resulting spill, but that was easily fixed with a snap of the fingers.
He did bless when he noticed that his ansaphone was left without an angry red light that announced that he had a message. Hastur managed to get out. Someone had called and let him out.
?I wouldn't worry too much about messages tonight, my dear,? Aziraphale called out. ?I'm sure that you have other matters to attend to.?
The first matter that had come to mind was a warm shower. That had been on his mind since emerging from the flames that had engorged the bookshop that Aziraphale was so distraught about. It had taken backseat to important things, of course, but he still wanted one.
The water was always perfect temperature for Crowley. The best part was that he would never run out of hot water.
Crowley leaned against the wall, letting the water rinse away what feeling of grime that it could before reaching for the bar of soap in convenient reach.
Come to think of it, this would be the first time that Aziraphale had stayed at his apartment since he moved. The angel had made sure that he stayed out of Crowley's way just about as often and Crowley stayed out of his, but in all honesty, what was it about him that seemed so phobic about any apartment that wasn't his? This would be good for Aziraphale. There was absolutely no problem that Crowley had with the angel sharing space with him as he rested.
He was very much alright with the idea, in fact. If it had to be anyone, human or otherwise, who had to come stay for the night in his apartment, he would much prefer Aziraphale. It wasn't like there was a reason to worry. He trusted him.
This probably would be a surprise to anybody who was not the demon, as there had been several endless nights of Tempting that have gone on and been fruitless in an attempt to pull Aziraphale down with him. Crowley had pretty much tried everything by time Armageddon hit, with his last attempt...oh, the day he had left the Antichrist in Sister Mary Loquacious' more than capable (note the sarcasm) hands.
Crowley sighed, watching the soap rinse off of his body in thick streams of white bubbles and film and streak on down the drain. The water felt good; probably far better than it ought to.
Well, Crowley thought, you've been busy today. Much more physical exertion than you're used to. Of course the water's going to feel good as it goes down your back and off your legs.
He started to hum as he worked on his hair. It was the temperature. He was feeling like this because of the warmth finally caressing his skin. It made him want to curl up and sleep on the nearest heat source.
Evil never sleeps, justice is ever vigilant.
But this agent of evil has gotten in the habit of getting his head down every once in a while.
---
He never noticed how cold his bed was.
The sheets were as fresh and crisp as they were new, presumably because he never got to fall asleep at home. This definitely gave a near hostile feel to his own bedroom.
Sighing, Crowley got up and slipped a pair of boxers over his slim hips and slipped into the office.
Aziraphale had been sitting at his desk, filling out one of those impossibly long insurance claims, looking, for all it was worth, bored to death. Crowley had no problems approaching the angel in nothing but his black boxers and yanking him out of the chair. Startled, the angel grabbed on to the arm to take any sort of support he could be offered before he looked up and blushed.
"My dear..." He was clearly struggling to find the polite words for "get your clothes back on," but Crowley was pretty sure that was about as polite as he got.
Crowley laughed. "Come to bed with me."
Aziraphale deliberately snatched his arm back. "I have things I need to do."
This didn't seem to be stopping his footsteps from mirroring the snake's. Which, really, was all that he needed to know.
"You've never slept before, have you, angel?"
"No,? Aziraphale admitted. "Unlike you, I had things to do that century."
"Well, no rest for the wicked, they say."
Aziraphale gave him a Look. "Get thee behind me, demon."
Crowley knew that he was teasing, so it only got a snicker as they made their way to his bedroom, the demon working on getting that argyle monstrosity off of the angel. Protests were only met by Crowley continuing, pointing out how uncomfortable his clothes were to sleep in. The angel eventually relented, but only because his back was on the mattress, the serpent laying over his chest, head tucked under chin.
"What are you doing, Crowley?"
"You're warm."
Aziraphale blushed, pinned under his friend, but said nothing. What could you say to someone like Crowley once their mind was made up? It was ridiculous how stubborn they were.
At least he didn't wear his...
Oh. There they were. He slept with his sunglasses on the nightstand. Well, that's not as bad as how it was back in the 1300s. That had been an interesting week.
Crowley did notice that Aziraphale was not at all ready to sleep, though. Aziraphale had never slept. That meant that he likely needed some help.
"Just stop that brain of yours for a while," Crowley advised.
The angel lifted his head to look into the slitting pupils staring back. ?It'd be easier if you didn't stare.?
"Who's staring?"
"You are."
Crowley hissed slightly as he snickered, rolling off of Aziraphale in favor of being a bit more dignified. No one seemed to need the kind of insanity that would ensue by Crowley giving in to his snakey instincts. Especially the angel. Oh, especially not the angel.
Aziraphale watched as Crowley's reptilian eyes slide shut in the darkness and, eventually, curl up so he was flush against his side. This was not helping the angel, who knew that he had no reason to worry about the demon getting so friendly. He had on more than one occasion found himself on the receiving end of not too welcomed advances. Crowley was, after all, a demon. It was to be expected that a demon, once comfortable with the divine aura of an angel, would go to work to pick at that angel's flaws, and flaw at all, until he finally Tempted his prey far enough to make them Fall.
But, well, Crowley had never quite hit where he knew it would hurt. Yes, he liked sushi. He did like music. He loved his books, even though there was not a single one of them salvageable. He was fully aware that Above was far less interesting than here. But these seemed trivial against the obvious.
His body was not as he would like it to look. Aziraphale would love to look like his friend laying beside him. Said friend could easily pick at that until he finally gave in to Pride.
Instead, Crowley had stuck with his wants and desires, and, well, occasionally tried for the sin of lust. It was a good sign that Crowley cared enough to keep from going to what would be sure successes.
Aziraphale brushed his lips over Crowley's exposed temple. There was no reason to not at least grant him one kiss. He was, after all, a good person, no matter what he tried to protest.
Crowley's arm reached up to pull him down, languidly, not too forceful. Then Crowley tilted his head up to kiss his mouth.
The angel blinked. That was...more or less unexpected. Why hadn't he expected it?!
It took a minute or so to realize there was a tongue, carefully forked so that it looked like it was merely done by cosmetic surgery, gliding across his bottom lip. Confused, Aziraphale attempted to pull away to check on his friend and ask, but those efforts were only rewarded with his tongue slipping between the angel's perfect lips.
His natural reaction was to retract slightly, try to escape the strange feeling, though Crowley seemed set on that not quite happening, his tongue pursuing the other, trying to draw it closer. The feel of the serpent's tongue finding its victim felt like electricity, the sensitive nerves of the angel making themselves obvious with the occasional surprised sound that kept catching in his throat. It only made Crowley want more; need more. Aziraphale tasted wonderful, and was so painfully shy that it was adorable, bright red by time they had to pull back for breath.
Aziraphale was panting slightly. That was a good sign.
"...Don't Tempt me..."
Crowley let out a low, slow hiss. "'M not..."
Then his lips and tongue were going right back to what they were doing. Aziraphale shouldn't be allowed to think too long, it seemed. Then his true nature would be compromised. No, Crowley wasn't the one doing the Tempting tonight. Everything that Aziraphale was feeling was just that: Aziraphale, pure and simple. There was no lying, no promises to unbound pleasure, and certainly nothing carnal. He had never been the kind of angel to give into that sort of desire, and if there was any reason to think that he might have been, Crowley covered that base long ago. There wasn't a hint of lust between the two.
Even when Aziraphale started to kiss him back, there was no sign of lust for the demon. That was a good sign. There was no Doubt, there was nothing that would make Aziraphale Fall.
The angel in his bed never quite looked so divine as he did with his face flushed with unfamiliar feelings coursing through his veins, Crowley noted. The look was good for him. Of course, it wouldn't look half as good on him; but that was because he was the one of the two who wasn't afraid to grasp at any pleasure he could find ? rock music, nice cars, gardening ? and take it head on.
The blush seemed to follow wherever Crowley's lips landed. The dark pink spread from his face, to his neck as Crowley kissed it and bit down possessively (much to Aziraphale's protest, as that had left quite a number of bruises and a couple puncture marks) and then down his chest as far as it could follow the snake's lips.
"....Why are you....?"
"Shhh...don't start thinking on me now," Crowley teased.
"When have you known me to not be thinking?" Aziraphale replied.
Crowley's lips grazed his, not quite kissing, but definitely touching. ?That's the problem. Don't think about anything, angel. I'm doing enough for the both of us.?
To be perfectly honest, that was a lie. This was the only lie that Aziraphale was going to be told. In fact, Crowley was too tired to do much thinking when he was getting so worked up elsewhere.
Proper knee placement announced that yes, Aziraphale was having the exact problem.
Crowley wasn't too surprised by the angel's underwear of choice. After all, he never expected style over function with the angel, whose sense of style died somewhere in the 1950s. He looked much better with it off, though. That was often the story with Aziraphale without clothes.
It did get him to go even redder though, thankful that he was being somewhat covered by the black sheets and Crowley, who came back up to kiss again, trying to keep him calm enough to not find himself thinking.
It almost worked, regrettably. Almost.
"Crowley, we can't...."
Smile. "Of course we can. My superiors are busy, yours are busy, no one is going to notice if you just unwind a little." Kiss. "If it makes you feel better, we can pretend nothing happened in the morning once we woke up."
"No, that won't make me feel..."
Damn, Crowley's tongue felt interesting when it was down there. Aziraphale found his breath catching in his throat, finally looking down to watch his friend work, mind completely numb with pleasure.
Serpentine eyes were staring at his in the darkness, forked tongue exactly where he needed it to be. He was very careful with how his tongue curled around his aching member, probably trying to make sure that he would appreciate the texture.
That definitely worked, even as Crowley worked to take him into is mouth. He wasn't going to go too fast and make this end quite yet. That was...the absolute opposite of what he wanted to do. Aziraphale deserved much better than to have what was probably his first blowjob be a rush job. Crowley may prefer quantity over craftsmanship when it came to the picking of souls, but he also knew that he wasn't going for this angel's soul.
Perfectly manicured hands were clutching desperately to the sheets as Crowley started to form a rhythm. He knew perfectly well what he was doing, and it showed.
"Why are you doing that....?"
Crowley pulled away, licking his head like a satisfied cat. "Didn't I tell you to stop thinking for a while"
"But...ah!"
Crowley was back to work, throat relaxed enough to take him in the rest of the way.
"Crowley!"
That only got a sound of pleasure from the demon, trying to find a discreet way to take care of the insistent ache that was starting to grow to a needy pain. After all, as long as Crowley was careful, then he can avert this causing a Fall. If Aziraphale managed to avoid feeling the lust that should be working up, then he would be okay.
Crowley opted to use the palm of his hand, caressing the silk fabric and enjoying the feel of hardness underneath the smoothness of his boxers. There was something erotic about the feel of skin on silk; it drove Crowley up the wall, and the idea of Aziraphale trying to get his hips to move was not helping a thing.
He quietly blessed. This was feeling far better than it should. For him, at least. The angel was clearly still feeling a strong connection with a nice, warm feeling that came with thinking that it was okay to thread his fingers through dark hair without pushing or pulling, not even guiding, really, just for the feeling of closeness.
There was eventually the feeling of his head lifted from the cock and then felt his lips being pressed in a chaste, loving kiss. Crowley ended up wrapping his arms around the angel's neck, letting Aziraphale fall back. He was, okay, only vaguely aware of silk slipping over his hips and his face getting caressed, focusing more on the fingers that found their way to his mouth.
It was exquisite.
Crowley as sure that they've done this before, or at least that Aziraphale had, fingers working to stretch doing their job effectively, and Crowley was slowly getting accustomed to it. There was somewhere that was being hit inside the demon that was making his body relax and rock against him, able to take the others in just as easily, though it was a bit painful to do more than two.
Even more wonderful was the feeling of rocking back against him, feeling something far more filling take the place of his fingers. The demon moaned, wriggling, trying to focus on Aziraphale. The angel had him gently by the hips, watching his face for any signs of pain or discomfort, hand going from his hip to caress his face again.
Finally, Crowley started to move. The actions were simple, mostly because he couldn't take it otherwise...but he felt good.
Aziraphale smiled, lacing his fingers with Crowley's, kissing his collarbone. The demon sighed in pleasure, tilting his head back and trying to move steadily faster. This felt good. Right. He wanted to just take things slow, make sure the angel enjoyed himself without getting overcome with his lust.
He leaned back, making sure that the angel ? his angel ? was not able to caress anything above his hips. Ah, this made it a bit easier to move at a more satisfying pace.
Aziraphale groaned appreciatively, caressing the legs offered to him and then reached up a little further, gently caressing the demon's arousal, not at all helping, judging by the hiss that came from him.
No words passed between them for the rest of the night, just the noise of flesh and flesh, low hisses, and happy sighs. Though there were stars exploding behind his eyes as he found that spot again, Crowley had not made any attempt to be louder, lest the neighbor below him would make a scene about him being a promiscuous brat on his own time, and could you please do what most men like you do and just stay with sleeping at their homes?
"'Zir...." it was just another hiss, but it was also an attempt to say the angel's name, let him know how good he was making the demon feel. Thankfully, the message got through, and it was quite mutual.
Crowley made sure that Aziraphale found his completion first, though not by much, judging by the fact he let out a loud, pleasured hiss right after his friend's head tilted back and he cried out.
The silence after seemed like forever, just two sets of panting as they returned from their euphoria. Aziraphale had been the first to move, taking a tissue from the nightstand and using it to wipe of the spilled seed over Crowley's lower abdomen and then pulled him until he was no longer joined, but draped over him.
And Aziraphale slept for the first time.
---
Crowley had slept in later than Aziraphale, though. It really shouldn't have surprised him that the sun was already high in the sky and he was sleeping comfortably in a warm bed alone.
"Angel, you awake?"
"f course I'm awake," came the voice from the office. "I had work to do, so I woke up around four."
The demon got up, slipping on his clothes and sunglasses before following the voice. "You got everything done?"
"Not even an angel can fill these things out completely in one night's time."
"Yes, well, insurance agencies are definitely one of my better ideas."
Aziraphale at least had taken his shower already, blond strands slicked back over his forehead and skin still flushed pink from the hot water. Well, he was going to assume it was the hot water.
"So, angel, are you going to be needing a place to stay while this gets sorted out?"
"I am thinking that last night was a more implicit invitation than that, but yes."
Crowley smiled, kissing his cheek. "I'm gonna take a shower and get breakfast."
"Azrael wants a word with us, when you have a chance."
"Azrael?"
"Yes. About last night. Not what happened here,? he quickly added, ?but the Apocalypse."
The demon sighed. "Alright."
"I talked him into giving us a couple hours while you slept and to meet us at the park."
"You actually wanna go out after all that?"
Aziraphale smiled, minimizing the window. "?"Yes. Bundle up, dear, it's a bit chilly. I probably ought to inspect the damage at the store, as well..."?"
Crowley laughed, helping Aziraphale with his scarf. The angel had not bothered to heal his abused neck, which had given him a slight feeling of pride.
"?"Shall we go then, my dear?"
Crowley smirked. "Yeah."
End Notes:
What Crowley and Aziraphale don't know is that Adam has switched out the broken Bentley with a shiny new one and all the books in the burned down bookstore with their first edition counterparts. Let's see if they notice...
***