Archive of Our Own

It was already light out when Anthony Crowley stopped in front of the antique-looking bookshop in Soho. He pulled his jacket closer about him, shivering slightly in the cool dawn air. He’d been in his black suit jacket and slim-cut trousers for nearly twenty-four hours, toiling away in his office. It was Saturday morning now; barely. 

He ought to go back to his flat, get some actual rest. But on days like this, when every muscle in his body felt like they were twisted with tension, there was only one place he wished to be at. One person he longed to see.

He didn’t expect the shop to be open. The sun had barely risen. But, to his surprise, the door swung in under his tired hand, sending the bell hanging above chiming cheerfully. 

The bookshop was dim, lit only by a single light over the table housing the cash register, towards the back of the shop. Crowley stopped inside the threshold, a smile lighting up his face when he saw the desk was occupied.

‘Crowley?’

Aziraphale Fell was staring at him in surprise, his pen poised over the ledger he’d been writing in. The proprietor of the shop was already dressed for the day, his plump figure clad in tan trousers and a pale blue shirt with his usual velvet beige waistcoat. But he clearly hadn’t been expecting to meet anyone yet; the indoor jacket and cute tartan bow tie he favoured were missing from the ensemble.

‘Morning, angel,’ Crowley said, pleased to see the happy smile the pet name brought to Aziraphale’s lips. ‘What’s this? Changing your opening hours to thwart your customers?’

Aziraphale scoffed. ‘Hardly. I dozed off after dinner last night before I’d tallied up the sales and whatnot. I couldn’t sleep past dawn and figured I might as well get some work done before opening hours.’ He capped his pen and placed it on top of the ledger, rising to his feet. ‘What brings you here so early, my dear? Surely you’re not on your way to work at this hour?’

‘On my way from work, actually,’ Crowley said with a grimace, slipping his backpack off his shoulder to lean it against a bookshelf as he crossed the room.

‘Goodness, were you up all night?’

‘A very long, rough night,’ he sighed, hooking two fingers over the knot of his grey necktie to loosen it. ‘Had a shitton to do. I’m meeting the shareholders first thing Monday. Bloody pillocks.’

‘How very dreadful for the owner of a rising company,’ Aziraphale said with a smile that was either sympathetic or teasing. Or both. No wonder Crowley had found himself smitten with the bastard. Though he wouldn’t tell Aziraphale that. Not yet, at least.

Instead he reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and drawled, ‘I didn’t come empty-handed. Got you something.’

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows at the two sheets of paper held out to him. ‘Crowley, please, I told you —’

‘Just take a look, you’ll love it. Promise.’

‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream?’ Aziraphale gasped, turning the tickets over in his hand. 

‘The new production, yeah. You said you wanted to see it.’

‘But — goodness, these seats!’

‘They’re good, eh.’

‘They’re expensive!’ Aziraphale looked up at him, brows furrowed. ‘Oh, Crowley, you shouldn’t—’

‘Uh-uh, nope. We agreed, remember?’ Crowley leaned a hand on the desk, grinning. ‘I get to spoil you as much as I please.’

The words brought a lovely blush to Aziraphale’s face, pink blooming on his cheeks. His blue eyes twinkled and a shy, pleased smile curved his mouth. God, he was stunning.

Crowley rounded the desk and Aziraphale set aside the tickets and stepped into his reaching arms easily, like it was the most natural thing to do. It made his heart skip a beat even after all these months, and he couldn’t help his sigh of contentment when Aziraphale’s lips met his in a kiss, long and sweet. The cool minty scent of soap still lingered on his skin, and his mouth was warm and tasted mildly of chocolate. 

With a happy hum, Crowley tightened his embrace and cupped the back of Aziraphale’s head, sinking his fingers into soft blond curls. What wouldn’t he give just to stay like this, he thought idly, already feeling the tension in his body beginning to unwind. Forever like this with Aziraphale in his arms, melting his troubles away with only a kiss.

Those thoughts came to an abrupt stop when Aziraphale’s hand resting on his hip slid between their bodies to press lightly on his crotch. 

‘Is that why you’re here with the dawn then?’ Aziraphale murmured against Crowley’s lips, a playful smile in his voice. He cupped Crowley’s cock, palming him over his trousers. ‘So you can spoil me and feel better?’

The words were like ice in his veins, a stark reminder of what they actually were to each other; something Crowley found himself forgetting these days. Aziraphale’s kisses tended to have that effect.

Swallowing, he leaned back, meeting those intense blue eyes that haunted his thoughts more often than he should allow.

‘I wanted to see you,’ Crowley replied quietly.

It was a simple truth. He always wanted to see Aziraphale, especially after hard days, because he did feel better for it. But the reality was that where Crowley would’ve been content with a shared glass of wine and conversation, Aziraphale interpreted his words differently.

It was the arrangement they’d agreed upon, after all.

So when Aziraphale’s smile turned sultry and his touch more insistent, Crowley crushed their mouths together in a ravenous kiss that was nothing like before, beginning to grind into his hand. Aziraphale moaned and parted his lips, his tongue meeting Crowley’s with wanton urgency, and he stroked the outline of Crowley’s burgeoning erection before pressing their hips together.

‘It’s truly serendipitous,’ Aziraphale panted between filthy kisses. ‘This morning.’

Crowley didn’t stop to ask what that meant. They’d barely just started but it was already hot and delicious, and as he crowded Aziraphale up against his desk, Crowley reminded himself that what they had was satisfactory. They both got good things out of this, things they wanted. There was no need to upset that balance.

Regardless, this… thing wasn’t what he’d expected to have when he reconnected with Aziraphale six months ago, more than a decade after their university graduation. Stumbling upon the little bookshop in Soho, he’d first been pleasantly surprised to run into the old friend he’d regretted losing contact with. And over shared drinks and anecdotes during the following weeks, he’d realised, with cautious hope, that the last ten years of separation hadn’t burnt out the torch he used to carry for Aziraphale — something he’d never confessed before. 

And so the day he found Aziraphale in tears inside a partially burnt down bookshop, Crowley hadn't had a second thought before he did what he did next.

You shouldn’t have, Aziraphale had said later in Crowley’s flat in Mayfair. How can I possibly repay that kind of money?

I don’t care about the money. Crowley had gathered his courage, opened his mouth to ask Aziraphale out to dinner —

And Aziraphale had sunk to his knees in front of him. Opened the front of Crowley’s tight jeans. Looked up at him with nervous eyes that were nonetheless filled with intent.

I’m not mistaken in how you’ve been looking at me these past few weeks, am I? Perhaps I can…?

It hurt at the time, the realisation of how deeply Aziraphale had misinterpreted Crowley’s intentions towards him. His feelings. But with that decadent mouth around his cock, Crowley had been unable to say no.

Mutual benefits, Aziraphale had said later when they properly talked about it. A far cry from what Crowley truly desired, but the desperate part of his brain had reasoned — it was still one more thing of Aziraphale he hadn’t had before. 

And so came about their arrangement.

The line of Aziraphale’s hardening cock ground against his, tearing needy sounds from them both. Crowley rutted their hips together and Aziraphale’s rear met the edge of his desk, jostling it slightly. Crowley heard the pen roll off the ledger and onto the wooden tabletop. He pulled away with a nip to Aziraphale’s bottom lip.

‘Mm, you have work to do, don’t you?’

‘It can wait,’ said Aziraphale breathlessly, angling for Crowley’s mouth again.

Crowley twisted away with a teasing grin, bringing his lips instead to Aziraphale’s neck. ‘Now that won’t do,’ he mumbled between slow, open-mouthed kisses to his heated skin. ‘I can’t be responsible for your slacking off.’

‘Crowley!’ Aziraphale sounded impatient and exasperated, in that way he did whenever Crowley dangled what he wanted just out of reach — which wasn’t a rare occurrence. 

‘Can’t have you opening up before tallying yesterday’s sales.’

‘I’ll have you know yesterday’s sales have nothing to do with opening me up,’ Aziraphale returned sweetly.

A sound somewhere between a cackle and choke escaped Crowley. Chuckling, Aziraphale rolled his hips and said pointedly, ‘Besides, I can choose just as well to not open at all today. It’s my shop.’

‘And you’re my angel,’ Crowley hissed in his ear, gathering himself again. He felt Aziraphale shiver at his words. ‘Didn’t you say you’ll always be good for me?’

Aziraphale’s palms came to rest on his chest, bunching up the lapels of his jacket. ‘I’ll be good,’ he whispered.

With a pleased hum, Crowley smacked a kiss to Aziraphale’s cheek and drew back. ‘Go on, then. Sit and finish your work.’

Pursing his lips, Aziraphale shot him a sullen glare before he began to reach for his chair. But Crowley sidled past him, easing onto it first.

‘Didn’t tell ya to sit here.’

Aziraphale huffed. ‘Crowley, what are you playing at? You told me to sit.’

A smirk tugged at Crowley’s lips. He settled against the high-backed velvet upholstery cushioning the wooden chair and let his legs spread, slipping a hand between to cup the prominent bulge distending his trousers. 

‘Yeah, I told you to sit.’

Blue eyes widened as comprehension dawned. Aziraphale’s lips parted. ‘Oh.’

‘Mm hmm.’ Crowley made a show of slowly unbuckling his belt and opening the front of his trousers as he spoke, ‘I’ll warm your seat, angel.’ He pushed down the zipper and pulled out his erection. ‘And you can warm my cock.’

The tip of a pink tongue swiped over Aziraphale’s bottom lip, his eyes locked on Crowley’s fingers idly stroking his prick to full hardness. Crowley exhaled loudly, moving his foreskin up and down his head, pausing to swipe a fingertip through the clear fluid beading at the tip, his gaze following Aziraphale’s reaction. 

‘Fuck, angel, I can almost sense your mouth watering.’ He slipped his fingertips into the open V of his trousers to stroke his balls, watching the way it made Aziraphale squeeze his own thighs together. ‘Do you want to suck me?’

‘Yes.’ The answer came at once, a breathless whisper.

‘Hmm, pity. You can’t work with a cock in your mouth. Guess your tight little arsehole will have to do.’

He grasped Aziraphale by the hips and pulled him forward, intending to spin him around and get down to business. But a possessive fondle to his plush arse had Crowley distracted. He palmed Aziraphale’s backside, feeling the soft give of flesh beneath the fabric of his tan trousers.

‘Fucking hell, you naughty tease.’ Crowley began to grin, delighted. ‘No underwear?’

There was a telltale twinkle in Aziraphale’s eyes. ‘On the contrary...’

Raising a quizzical brow, Crowley began to undo the unholy amount of buttons on Aziraphale’s old-fashioned trousers. He pulled it open and his jaw dropped.

Lace. Where Crowley had expected the sensible white cotton briefs Aziraphale usually preferred, there was transparent black lace, with sparse floral embroidery that did nothing to hide the straining erection underneath. Mouth dry, Crowley carefully eased the trousers down Aziraphale’s hips, breath growing shallower as a thong, no, a g-string, was finally revealed. 

‘Aziraphale…’

Crowley’s eyes widened at the thin string holding the skimpy pants up around Aziraphale’s plump hips, the flushed redness of his cock and heavy balls barely held within the tiny scrap of lace over his groin. Aroused as he already was, the tip of his penis was peeking above the waistband, wet and shiny and begging to be licked. Crowley slid a fingertip under the string, following it around the curve of Aziraphale’s waist to discover that, yes, his cheeks were bare, the stringed seat of the flimsy thong disappearing fully into the crease of his buttocks.

Crowley couldn’t help but palm them again, digging his fingers into the generous flesh even as he gaped at Aziraphale’s lace-covered cock and thought about putting his mouth there, to kiss and suck him over his sexy little panties and ruin them.

‘There’s more.’ Aziraphale’s voice broke through the haze in his mind.

‘More?’ Crowley echoed with mild disbelief.

Aziraphale wiggled his hips with a meaningful glance down at his trousers. Taking the hint, Crowley pulled them down further. His breath caught again when he saw the black strips of frilled lace around Aziraphale’s upper thighs; garters clipped to a pair of sheer black stockings pulled above his knees.

‘Holy shit… I didn’t buy you these,’ Crowley murmured, smoothing his palms down Aziraphale’s stockinged legs.

‘No. But after that last time, I know what you like.’ Aziraphale was positively oozing self-satisfaction as he raised his legs one after the other to help Crowley remove his brogues and trousers.

Crowley leaned back, appreciating how Aziraphale’s pale blue shirt and velvet waistcoat, so demure and strait-laced, contrasted starkly with the lingerie flaunting his wares. The ends of his shirt fell to cover the tiny g-string and that just wouldn’t do. Crowley pulled him close and unbuttoned him swiftly, leaving his waistcoat and shirt open to bare erect dusky pink nipples on a lightly furred chest, and the lovely swell of his stomach above his panties.

‘Beautiful.’

‘I’m so pleased you like them.’

‘Yeah … but, angel.’ Crowley looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. ‘You do know it’s not even seven in the morning? And you’re in lingerie?’

Aziraphale scoffed, crossing his arms over chest and leaning back against the desk. ‘Says the man who’s here before sunrise to fuck me.’

Crowley bit back the rejoinder that casual sex had never been what he wanted from Aziraphale, reminded himself of what they’d both agreed to. 

Breezing past the thoughts, he asked with some amusement, ‘Did you miraculously know I’d show up today or something?’

The look on Aziraphale’s face softened with a blush. His lips twitched in a smile. ‘I told you, it was serendipitous that you came over this morning.’ When Crowley continued to stare questioningly, he lowered his gaze and said, suddenly sounding a little embarrassed, ‘Actually I thought you might visit later, perhaps to have —’

‘Lunch?’ Crowley grinned broadly as he cottoned onto Aziraphale’s line of thought. ‘You have lunch and then I have you?’

Aziraphale made an embarrassed sort of noise, his cheeks turning redder. It evoked a warm, strange feeling inside Crowley, the thought that Aziraphale had been anticipating a date with him on a Saturday; that he’d been excited for sex with Crowley and prepared for it.

‘Yeah, you know what, that sounds great. I’ll take you out to lunch today.’

‘Really?’ Aziraphale’s eyes lit up.

‘Yep. But before that, don’t you have some work to get on with?’

At the reminder of what they’d been about to do before Crowley’s distraction, Aziraphale’s face flushed, his eyes going wide and dark as they landed on Crowley’s cock again. 

‘Oh, yes, you told me to sit and…’ Biting his lip, Aziraphale at last turned to face the desk, bracing his palms on the tabletop. 

Crowley hiked up the tails of his shirt and smoothed his hands down Aziraphale’s broad back and over his buttocks. He slipped a finger into the crack of his arse, stroking over the string of his thong until he found the whorled rim of his anus, barely covered by the fabric. Aziraphale made a low whimpering sound when Crowley pressed lightly on his hole; it clenched and Crowley’s dick throbbed with the anticipation of feeling that around him soon.

‘Shit, we need lube,’ he swore, grimacing at having to run up to Aziraphale’s flat upstairs to — 

‘Bottom drawer,’ Aziraphale gasped, rocking back into Crowley’s finger to rub the thong’s string over his hole.

Crowley gave a bark of laughter. ‘Seriously?’ Still playing with Aziraphale’s arse, he pulled open the drawer with his other hand and found, front and centre, an unassuming bottle of lubricant lying among a mess of pens, pencils and folders.

‘Look at you, my sweet cockslut.’ He couldn’t keep the affection out of his voice as he snatched up the bottle to squeeze lube onto his fingers. ‘Were you hoping to get fucked over your desk someday?’

‘I thought it prudent to keep some closeby after that time in the backroom. It was such a hassle to go upstairs.’

Crowley couldn’t help but chuckle again. ‘Anything to get a cock inside you faster, eh?’ 

There was a beat. ‘Well, yours isn’t just any cock, is it.’

Crowley stilled in the action of pulling the string from between Aziraphale’s buttocks, stunned. Before he could speak though, Aziraphale wiggled his hips again and said softly, ‘This time, the lubricant is just for you.’

It took a moment for Crowley to parse what that meant. He blinked. ‘You sure?’

‘Yes. I … I like it sometimes, as you know. Just being opened on … on…’

Crowley did know that. He had a handful of precious, and utterly debauched, memories of just how much Aziraphale enjoyed what he was requesting. He didn’t think his cock had room for any more blood but he could swear he was growing harder by the second. 

‘Yeah,’ he rasped, slathering over his own prick, adding a generous amount. ‘Sure, angel, if you like.’

Aziraphale pulled his g-string aside, hooking the rear string over his left buttock. Crowley spread his cheeks, finally revealing the wrinkled muscle hidden there; he couldn’t resist rubbing a couple of fingertips over it, smearing a dollop of lube over the hole, hoping it would help.

‘There we go. Ready?’

Aziraphale nodded, spreading his legs to bracket Crowley’s thighs. Braced on the desk, he began to lower himself over Crowley’s lap, stilling when Crowley grasped him by the hip. His other hand was on his cock, guiding the slick head between Aziraphale’s crease to nudge gently against his anus.

Crowley dragged the tip over Aziraphale’s rim a few times, biting his lip at how tiny the hole looked next to the bulbous head of his dick. He was by no means small, an attribute that Aziraphale had always appreciated voraciously, with both his mouth and arse. There was always that concern at the beginning though, the fear of hurting his love.

‘Please, my dear, don’t tease like this.’ Aziraphale rocked down slightly, pressing onto Crowley. ‘I want you inside me.’

Carefully, Crowley pushed in, applying just enough pressure to watch Aziraphale open around the very tip of him. He pulled back and then pressed in, just the slightest bit harder, slipping half his head inside before withdrawing again. With every increasing press, he could hear Aziraphale’s breathing become shallow and rapid, his hole clenching every time Crowley pulled away without fully penetrating.

‘Crowley, please, please…’ He was leaning on the desk with his forearms, his thighs now quivering. ‘I can take it. Give it to me.’

‘I know, lov — angel. You always take me so well. Made to ride my cock, your arse. Come on, now…’ 

Crowley eased in again, his own breath hitching at the way Aziraphale’s hole, so unbelievably tight without prior prep, stretched wide around the flared base of his cockhead. Then his rim slipped over Crowley’s head, hot and snug around him, and Crowley groaned at how good it felt. 

‘Oh, yes!’ Aziraphale sighed, his body tensing. Crowley grabbed his waist just in time to stop him from slamming down on his cock. ‘Crowley!’

‘Hush, angel, easy does it.’ Holding Aziraphale in place, Crowley rocked carefully up into him, pushing the head of his cock in and out of his hole a few times, sighing at the catch of Aziraphale’s tight rim around it. He eased Aziraphale down carefully, marvelling at how his arse was coaxed open around his cock. He sank deeper into the scorching clutch of his body inch by inch until finally the other man was flush on his lap.

‘So bloody tight,’ Crowley groaned into the nape of Aziraphale’s neck, his whole body tensing at the overwhelming rush of arousal through him. He could feel every spasm of the hot silken walls cocooning his prick; he wondered if he could come from that alone.

Aziraphale whined and squirmed in his lap, each tiny movement sending jolts of fire through Crowley’s cock.

‘All right?’

‘I always forget,’ Aziraphale gasped, tipping his head back against Crowley’s shoulder, ‘just how big you are until you’re inside me.’

Crowley pressed a kiss to the shell of his ear. ‘That a bad thing?’

‘No.’ Aziraphale flashed a smile at him, his eyes lidded with pleasure. ‘It’s like an exquisite gift that I get to be surprised by over and over again. You’re perfect.’ 

His heart did some embarrassing things inside his chest which he tried to ignore, reminding himself not to read too deeply into those words. This was about sex, bloody good sex at that, and that was what Aziraphale wanted. Crowley would give that to him.

‘Well I, for one, have no complaints about you singing praises of my dick every time we fuck,’ he said instead with a grin. ‘Feels almost as good as your arse.’

With a pleased hum, Aziraphale wiggles in his lap again. ‘Won’t you make me sing your praises then, dear?’ He tried to rock his hips but in a flash, Crowley had his arm around his waist, pinning him down.

‘None of that. Remember what I said. Do your work first.’

Aziraphale gave an affected whimper. ‘Oh but Crowley, how could I possibly focus like this?’

Crowley dragged his tongue up the side of his neck to suck on his earlobe, while his hand slipped down to cup the front of Aziraphale’s lace panties. ‘Be good for me and I’ll give you a reward. How ’bout that?’

With a faint moan, Aziraphale leaned forward to pick up his pen again. He poured over his ledger, body bent at a somewhat awkward angle like this, and began to write.

‘If I mess up my numbers, you’ll have to take responsibility.’

Crowley raised an eyebrow and squeezed Aziraphale’s cock over the g-string. ‘If you mess up your numbers, I’ll give your naughty bottom a spanking.’ 

He was joking but didn’t miss the way Aziraphale stiffened in his arms, his walls fluttering around Crowley’s prick. His eyebrows flew up. ‘Damn, you’d actually like that, wouldn’t you?’ Aziraphale squirmed again and Crowley gave a breathy laugh. ‘Noted, I’ll keep that in mind, you kinky thing. But for today, be good.’ Still palming him, Crowley let his thumb stroke over the tip of Aziraphale’s head poking above the waistline, pulling a throaty whine from him. 

To Crowley’s mild surprise, Aziraphale actually lasted a short while. For several minutes he remained in Crowley’s lap, obediently writing in his ledger, albeit slower than he normally would, interrupted only by the little moans he couldn’t stifle as the other man bit and sucked on his neck while teasing him through the thong. Crowley punished these lapses with pointed scratches and pinches to Aziraphale’s nipples, making him cry out harder before he’d quiet down again. 

It felt unspeakably good to have Aziraphale in his lap like this, the wet heat of him constant and snug around his prick. His arousal had reached a pleasant plateau and he wouldn’t mind if Aziraphale warmed his cock like this for hours. But of course, his partner was an impatient thing.

‘I can’t concentrate,’ huffed Aziraphale, dropping his pen and shutting the book over it in a manner most unlike him. ‘If I keep going, I’ll have to recheck and do these all over again. Crowley, please!’

‘Please what?’ Crowley rolled his left nipple between two fingers he’d wetted with spit. Aziraphale arched into the touch, whining.

‘Please fuck me! Now! I can’t wait anymore.’

‘Greedy thing, you barely lasted twenty minutes.’

‘Twenty minutes we could’ve spent making love!’

Crowley almost choked, eyes widening. Don’t read into it, he told himself fiercely, trying to convince himself that Aziraphale sounded gone with lust. Words, they were just desperate words.

Wrestling his attention back to what was important, Crowley tucked his nose into Aziraphale’s neck and murmured, ‘Fuck you here? Now? In plain sight of the door? Sun’s up, sweetheart, and there are people about.’

There weren’t a lot. Rush hour was still a ways away, but Crowley could see the occasional figure passing by the main doors of the bookshop. Aziraphale’s desk and cash register were farther back but still in a direct line to the door. If one were to look inside, actually look…

Aziraphale had gone still, eyes on the door and clearly thinking along the same lines as Crowley. 

He chuckled. ‘It’s one thing to sit on me and work, angel. Another entirely to be bent over your desk and fucked six ways from Sunday. No plausible deniability there.’

‘I…’

‘I didn’t lock the door when I came in, either.’ Crowley left a biting kiss on the side of his neck. ‘Anyone could enter at any time…’

Aziraphale’s breath hitched, his arse tightening around Crowley in a way that felt almost involuntary. Crowley hissed under his breath.

‘Fucking hell, sweetheart, does that turn you on so much?’

In response, Aziraphale reached with trembling hands to gather up his ledger and theatre tickets. He pulled open the top drawer of his desk and carefully put them away, then turned to Crowley. The look in his eye was unmistakable.

Swearing under his breath, Crowley grabbed him about the hips and urged him up. Aziraphale whined when Crowley’s cock left his arse, his hole slick and visibly loose before it settled back into shape. The sight made something inside Crowley twist, the arousal humming under his skin flaming up into consuming need. 

‘You want to be seen like this, don’t you?’ His voice was low and raspy with lust as he splayed Aziraphale over the table. 

What a picture he made, with his undone shirt and waistcoat hiked up his back, his plump legs encased in sheer black lace, and his beautiful arse completely exposed. The rear string of his thong had dislodged and Crowley hooked it over his left buttock again, spreading him open to reveal his arsehole.

‘Bent over and displayed in your own shop.’ Taking his cock in hand, he pressed the tip to Aziraphale’s hole. ‘Imagine if people saw you like this. They’d know, wouldn’t they?’ He didn’t drag it out this time, pushing his cock to the base in one slick slide, making Aziraphale mewl with pleasure. ‘They’d know what you are, what you do…’ 

Gripping the plump hips to keep him in place, Crowley began to rock into him, slow on the pull out, until his head caught on Aziraphale’s rim, and then slamming in hard, the way Aziraphale liked. 

‘They’d know what you are under these fussy layers.’ He bunched the back of Aziraphale’s shirt and waistcoat in one hand, pushing his torso into the desk. ‘A debauched little tart with the sweetest arse, nice and tight and begging for cock. My cock.’

A litany of moans and incoherent words spilled from Aziraphale’s lips as he grabbed the edges of the desk, panting into the wood while Crowley drove into him hard, balls deep on every thrust, the sounds of their fucking wet and loud in the quiet bookshop.

Oddly, it was harder to forget that this was an arrangement when they were having sex. When he had Aziraphale moaning his name and writhing on his cock, distracted from the other softer thoughts that usually took over when he was in Aziraphale’s presence, it was easier to keep in mind that this was about mutual benefits. Give Aziraphale things, have Aziraphale in return. 

But every now and then, Crowley slipped up.

‘They’d know what a lovely, pliant doll you are. So eager to please and be good to whom you belong.’

‘Yes, yes,’ Aziraphale panted, rocking back to meet Crowley’s hips. 

‘Who do you belong to?’

His response was a drawn-out keen, a sure indication that Crowley’s cock had found Aziraphale’s prostate. Gritting his teeth, Crowley kept up the angle, his eyes flicking between Aziraphale’s profile, where he had his left cheek pressed to the tabletop, and the slide of his own cock between Aziraphale’s stretched arsehole, his rim red and shiny around Crowley’s thick girth.

‘I said, who do you belong to, Aziraphale?’ Crowley punctuated the question with a thrust hard enough to jostle the table.

‘You!’ Aziraphale sobbed, grinding his arse back against Crowley’s hips. ‘I belong to you, Crowley.’

‘Mine,’ Crowley growled the word in Aziraphale’s ear, winding an arm around him to palm his cock through the tiny g-string.

‘Yours, darling, only yo — ohh!’ he moaned loudly and Crowley felt the spurt of hot liquid over his hand as Aziraphale came hard. Humming with pleasure, Crowley pulled down the soaked lace to free his erection and stroked his cock through his orgasm, still thrusting inside him.

‘Say it again,’ he whispered in Aziraphale’s ear. ‘I want to hear you.’

Aziraphale met Crowley’s eyes over his shoulder. ‘I said I’m yours.’

The words settled over him like a heat flare, his heart leaping in his chest. He bit Aziraphale’s clothed shoulder, muffling a groan of his name as his dick throbbed. He fucked into him, trying to go as deep as he possibly could as he spilled inside Aziraphale, his orgasm intense and overwhelming. It always was with his angel. 

Panting into soft blond hair, Crowley let himself collapse onto Aziraphale’s back for a few seconds, catching his breath. He pulled back to find him smiling contentedly, still splayed over the desk.

‘My goodness, that was wonderful.’

Crowley smiled back at him, allowing the tenderness he felt in that moment to shine through for a split second. 

Then he withdrew gently, groaning again when he saw the load of white sticky fluid swelling up out of Aziraphale’s well-fucked hole. 

‘Fuck, this’ll never not be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,’ he drawled, smoothing a palm over Aziraphale’s right cheek to dip the tip of his thumb inside him. More come oozed out of his rim as Crowley’s thumb sank inside; the sight sent a lash of possessive desire through him. 

‘Oh dear, we should’ve used a condom!’ Aziraphale suddenly exclaimed, straightening up. 

Crowley raised his eyebrows, now sliding his thumb through the other’s crease. ‘Why? We hardly ever use them.’

‘Well, you hardly ever fuck me at the crack of dawn before I’m supposed to work,’ retorted Aziraphale. ‘Cleaning up is so tedious.’

Smirking, Crowley pressed up against him, letting his softening cock glide over the plush arse. ‘Honestly, I’m tempted to not allow you to take off this sexy little number for the rest of the day.’ He fingered the waistline of Aziraphale’s g-string and hiked up the lacey front over his semen-covered cock. ‘See you all buttoned up and proper in front of your customers while you drip with me underneath, ruining your panties.’

‘Oh, you wouldn’t,’ Aziraphale said breathily, his excitement clear in his voice. But then he pouted at Crowley over his shoulder. ‘But I can’t! I’d stain my trousers in no time.’

‘I’d get them cleaned for you.’ Crowley kissed his cheek. 

‘It wouldn’t be the same!’

Chuckling, Crowley took Aziraphale by the shoulders and pushed him back down over the desk. ‘Fine, I won’t do it. Knew you’d throw a fit.’ He sat back down in the chair behind Aziraphale, then spread his cheeks open again.

‘What are you doing?’

‘You might find cleaning up tedious, but I don’t,’ Crowley drawled. He waited until he heard Aziraphale’s Oh! of comprehension before he leaned in, dragging his tongue through the mess leaking out of his hole.

Aziraphale made a sound of pleasure, squirming as Crowley laved up from the heavy hang of his balls to the top of his crease, licking up his spend.

‘Is this my reward for being good then?’ he said playfully, shivering when Crowley’s tongue traced his arsehole before probing inside.

Crowley hesitated then, recalling what all this was about. He licked over Aziraphale’s hole again before replying, ‘Don’t be silly. Your reward is being shipped as we speak. Or eat, I suppose.’ Smirking, he dove back in.

‘What?’

Crowley pressed a gentle kiss to the curve of his arse. ‘That rare book you talked about before? The Nutter thing? I was able to find it a couple weeks ago. Should be delivered here in a few days.’

‘Oh…’ Aziraphale’s voice took on an odd tone. ‘You actually meant a reward like…’ he trailed off, clearing his throat. ‘How much did it cost?’

‘Irrelevant.’ Crowley licked into him again, sucking on his rim. 

There was a short pause. ‘I’d like to suck your cock after lunch, my dear. If you’d like.’

Crowley swallowed, tried not to think too hard about the true implications of that. ‘I always like, angel.’

‘Would you fuck me again too?’

‘If you like.’

Aziraphale hummed and Crowley returned to licking him clean, thrusting his tongue inside his loosened hole.

‘Thank you, Crowley,’ Aziraphale murmured after a few seconds. Crowley could hear the soft smile in his voice. ‘This has been an exceptionally lovely morning.’

‘Yeah. You too, angel…’

On a whim, Crowley rose up and leaned over him, cupping his face. Aziraphale tipped his head back and let Crowley press their lips together. The kiss was chaste. Sweet. A sharp contrast to everything else they’d done.

In that moment, Crowley allowed himself to imagine it was enough of a confession he couldn’t say aloud. That it was something Aziraphale wanted and accepted.

Then he was back between Aziraphale’s legs, face buried in his arse, and Aziraphale sighed and keened and moaned for him.

It was a good thing, this. For all that it had no love and promises attached, it was still good. Crowley could keep dreaming of a day when his money and Aziraphale’s body weren’t the fuel of this relationship, but in the meantime, they had this. Something Aziraphale wanted with him. Something Crowley could keep giving him. 

And if mutual benefits meant leaving his misbehaving heart out of it, well, that was fine. He’d be fine.