aflashbastard | [[Closed post: Hit me baby one more time]]

Assuming that the Freaky Friday reverse engineering Crowley is currently going through with Claudius and the teenage clique in a separate time stream did not work¹, after Crowley had a delicious meal of coq au vin with Aziraphale, he went to sleep for a couple of hours in hopes that that would work. Surprisingly, it does. He wakes up on the wall of the room, upside-down. It's actually a little cold but he's never been so happy to open his eyes to see the legs of the bed before. He's back. He's back in this familiar, comfortable, well-worn, lanky body. He's been in multiple bodies over the centuries, but he's grown awfully fond of this one. Then, suddenly, with a start and a jolt-- Aziraphale. Their date.

It takes him so long to get ready and mentally prepare himself, you would think that he's a teenage girl again, but when he finally has a bottle of sake, his hair, his outfit, and his wits together², he heads to the library to look for Aziraphale.

¹We know, a very bold assumption. It's such a great plan.
²Citation needed.

[[NSFW later in the thread!]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

They've taken their time over the past few days, not entirely by choice, but now Crowley can feel the pressure building and the want coiling in him like a spring. The surprised look - and the noise Aziraphale makes - it all brings him closer to that crest, and it doesn't take long.

"Aziraphale--" He says, both reflex and warning.

Aziraphale wouldn't move away in this moment, not for love or money or all the rare books in London. He grips Crowley's thigh tighter, nearly a reflex, then slides that hand to his hip to pull him in closer so that he can receive the rather miraculous reality of Crowley coming in his mouth, far better than any communion he could imagine.

Every single nerve in Crowley's body comes alive as he feels like he's shaking apart; it almost feels like a moment of religious ecstasy, like his body is floating away, like the purest bliss he can imagine -- and Aziraphale is there to anchor him through it all. Once it fades down into a pleasant background hum, he opens his eyes (which he hadn't realized he had closed) to meet Aziraphale's.

Aziraphale is already gazing up at him, letting Crowley soften in his mouth, but when their eyes meet, he sits back. He wipes at the corner of his mouth, a bit fussily, with his thumb, as if that'll do anything at all for his pink cheeks or his even pinker mouth. He smiles at Crowley. "Every time I eat?"

Crowley's eyes are slightly less snake-like when his pupils are wide like this -- and there are no sunglasses for him to hide his (quite mild) shame behind. "Do you really need to make those noises when you eat?" He manages to ask with a distinct combination of irritation at being called out and supreme fondness. He's obviously joking; Aziraphale can make those noises all day. After a moment of hesitation, he reaches out to gently touch one of those pink cheeks.

"Yes." Aziraphale's smile deepens, turning into one of those where his eyes crinkle at the corners and his cheeks become rounder. "I do, if they inspire you to such raptures." He leans his face into Crowley's hand.

That smile makes something in Crowley's stomach dip, pleasantly. He takes Aziraphale's hand and pulls him up off the floor into a kiss, tracing the line of Aziraphale's hip, down to where he's still regrettably far too clothed and temptingly unattended to. "Your turn now?" He asks, lowly. There's a hint of the serpent in the garden in his tone. "Or we could check something else off the spreadsheet."

Crowley has been putting far too much effort into his little pranks and temptations, Aziraphale has determined. He only ever needed to be naked and disheveled, his pupils dark and his expression worshipful, and the humans of the world would have fallen to their knees. He kisses Crowley again, shifting into his touch, and says, "Well, we have all night and then some, don't we? Dealer's choice."

[[Closed post: Hit me baby one more time]]

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