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Aziraphale walks into Crowley's kitchen and freezes.
"What on Earth?"
There are at least ten copies of Crowley bustling around the kitchen. Only one of them looks up at his entrance. That particular Crowley grimaces. The rest stay focused on their respective tasks which appear to be chopping and saucing and cooking something that smells delicious.
Aziraphale’s stomach grumbles, but he ignores it because this is very strange.
"Angel, you’re early," Crowley says, extricating himself from the herd of other Crowleys to cross the room.
"What is this?"
"I was trying to surprise you. Making a four course meal requires a lot of extra hands."
"And you can just—" Aziraphale pauses to take a deep breath. How did he not know this about Crowley? "Duplicate yourself?"
Crowley glances back into the kitchen. His nonchalance starts to melt away into nerves. "I mean, yeah. All demons can. It's a...it's just a thing. Call me Legion for we are many. Yanno..."
Aziraphale looks at the small group of Crowleys. It's overwhelming to see so many copies of the being he loves in one place, all moving in tandem with that odd, awkward grace. He has the strangest urge to kiss every single one.
"Do you have control over them?" Aziraphale asks, an idea quickly blooming in his mind.
Crowley shrugs. "Sort of. All I can really do is give them a single task. Once it's done they sort of...poof."
"Poof," Aziraphale repeats, drifting to the kitchen worktop to inspect the nearest Crowley clone. He’s chopping mushrooms with a diligence that Aziraphale admires and also finds rather attractive. After all, if it were his Crowley doing the chopping, he’d probably be asking him to put the knife aside in favor of a bit of kissing.
"Real handy for temptations," Crowley says, confidence building. Heat stirs in Aziraphale's gut. He loves his demon when he’s confident.
It bodes well for his plan.
He turns his best plaintive expression on Crowley, loving the way Crowley immediately responds with a frown. It's all for show. They both know the game. They were playing it for years before they got together. Now they play it for fun.
"There have to be other uses for them besides an extra hand in the kitchen," he says innocently. He knows Crowley will catch on.
Crowley gives him a speculative look.
"What are you after, angel?" he asks, drifting to Aziraphale's side and back again, that old circling habit of his that makes Aziraphale's heart race even though they've been together for two years and counting.
"I was simply thinking that...a good half dozen of you could be a lovely way to keep me...occupied," he replies, looking at Crowley through his lashes.
Crowley sucks on his teeth, a sharp, shocked sound, before pushing Aziraphale against the worktop. "Are you asking for what I think you're asking for?"
"I believe I'm asking for as many of your cocks as you'll give me. Is that your understanding?" Aziraphale says coquettishly.
Crowley kisses him hard then, hands digging sharply into his hips. "You little hedonist."
"Is it my fault you're so delectable?" Aziraphale asks, nipping at his mouth.
Crowley groans, half frustration and half arousal as Aziraphale unzips his trousers. If the small army of clones behind them are uncomfortable as they jerk each other off in the kitchen, none of them give any indication.
And they do make a remarkable risotto.
**
Crowley says he needs to rest and prepare for the main event, so they plan for Saturday. Aziraphale is so excited he can hardly focus on anything. He even keeps the shop open during regular business hours as a distraction. Utterly horrifying.
When the day comes, he scampers over to Crowley’s flat with a change of clothes and a bottle of good wine. Crowley answers the door looking very purposefully relaxed, and when he leads Aziraphale to the bedroom, it’s been set up with his comfort in mind. There are extra pillows but the bed has been stripped of its comforter and its sheets.
Crowley backs him up until his knees hit the edge of the bed, fingers already working over the buttons of his waistcoat. Aziraphale’s body goes hot all over in anticipation.
“I was thinking,” Crowley begins as he pushes Aziraphale’s waistcoat off his shoulders. It hits the bed behind him with a soft thwump. “I was thinking that I could watch.”
Aziraphale is awfully distracted, because Crowley chooses that moment to kiss his jaw, which always makes his knees go weak. “Hmwat?”
“There’ll be ten other versions of me. I can be off in the corner enjoying the show,” Crowley says, breath tickling Aziraphale’s ear as he undoes his bow tie. His hands trail down Aziraphale’s torso, undoing each button of his shirt and sliding inside to squeeze his chest, his love handles, his hips. “I’ll enjoy it more if I get to see the whole picture.”
Aziraphale whines and pushes into Crowley’s hands. He feels Crowley’s smirk against his neck as his button down and undershirt are removed.
“Yes,” Aziraphale breathes as Crowley undoes his fly and pushes his trousers down.
“What will I be working with?” Crowley asks, snaking his hand between their bodies.
“Oh,” Aziraphale says, pulse skittering. “I’ve got my usual. I thought it would be better. More holes.”
Crowley snorts. “More holes. Real romantic, you are.”
He slips his fingers between Aziraphale’s thighs and groans. “You’re so wet, angel. We haven’t even done anything.”
Aziraphale gasps and grinds down against his hand. “It’s—all this talk. I want you.”
The teasing edge disappears from Crowley’s smile and he pulls his hand away. Aziraphale pouts.
“Stop that. You’re about to get ten of me and if you don’t hold your horses, I’ll get distracted and ruin the whole thing.”
Aziraphale huffs and drops onto the edge of the bed. “Fine.”
Crowley snaps his fingers.
A whooshing sound fills the room like a pair of wings opening and three pairs of hands are on Aziraphale, grasping at various parts of his body and maneuvering him onto his back.
Crowley, the proper Crowley, his Crowley, says from some distance, "Fuck him until you come."
The words hold a resonance that isn't for Aziraphale and, as he is tugged to the edge of the bed, he doesn't know what he expects, but it certainly isn't to look between his legs and see one of the ten Crowleys on his knees, serpentine eyes focused on his cunt, just before burying his face in it.
He cries out and his back arches. His range of movement is restricted by all the hands on him. How many hands are there?
"Best use your mouth, Aziraphale," Crowley says from somewhere in the room. "Or else this will take ages. Do you want ten of me coming in your pussy?"
A thrill of heat sizzles in Aziraphale's stomach at the thought. He wants Crowley everywhere. A strong lick between his legs makes him moan and he realizes he's shut his eyes. When he opens them, he sees two Crowleys on either side of his head. Both have their cocks in their hands and are lazily playing with their foreskins, watching him as they slowly jerk themselves off. The Crowley between his legs suckles on his clit and he whimpers at the sharp spike of pleasure along his spine.
Choosing at random, he grabs the thigh of the Crowley to his right and urges him closer as he opens his mouth. Crowley sinks into him, a familiar heat.
The awkward twist of his body as he sucks this Crowley distracts from the pleasure between his legs. But he likes the heady sensation. He feels wanted, possessed. And this is just the beginning.
"What a picture."
With a jolt, Aziraphale remembers Crowley is watching the whole thing. He wonders if he’s touching himself. His cunt pulses. The Crowley between his legs moans and begins to fuck him with his tongue.
"You’re a natural cock sucker,” Crowley says. He sounds confident. Pleased. The praise makes Aziraphale want to do even more. Do better. “Maybe give the other one a go."
Aziraphale pulls off, ignoring the spit that drips down his chin. This was always going to be a messy endeavor. He's looking forward to it actually. He turns his head and opens his mouth for the Crowley to his left. This one is less gentle, thrusting into his mouth, the head of his cock bumping into the soft skin of his cheek. He can feel his face bulge obscenely as Crowley's precome drips over his tongue.
Hands grasp his chest and tweak his nipples and he realizes it's not one set of hands but two. Familiar sets of fingers roll his nipples and send zings of pleasure to his cunt as the first Crowley continues to eat him out.
A finger slips between his cheeks and presses into his arse. That’s what does it. The sudden, new sensation sends Aziraphale's orgasm crashing over him. He shudders, crying out around the cock in his mouth. This Crowley doesn't seem to mind, just fucks his mouth harder. He gags and pulls off just as the demon between his legs rises to his feet.
He’s beginning to lose track of the number of demons in the room. The one between his legs, the two by his shoulders, the two by his sides playing with his nipples. Crowley said there would be ten. Aziraphale moans at the very thought.
He uses his hands on the two Crowleys at his sides, loving the heat of them in his palms as the Crowley between his legs grasps his hips and sinks into his cunt. He moans as Crowley rocks into him slowly, barely pulling out before fucking back into him. It makes his whole body ache with pleasure.
One of the Crowleys playing with his chest decides to get creative and straddles his stomach, pushing his soft chest together only to slide his cock between Aziraphale’s breasts. The demon pauses and then brings his hand to his mouth to spit before slicking his length. Aziraphale tips his head down and opens his mouth so the very tip of this Crowley's cock can slip into his mouth with each stroke.
He watches this version of his demon stare at him with hunger as he fucks his chest. He can’t keep his neck at this angle for long, but he wants something to do with his mouth while these two Crowleys use his body.
"You’re a fucking vision," his Crowley says from the corner of the room as Aziraphale urges one of the Crowleys by his shoulder to sit on his face. This third—Fourth? Fifth?—Crowley's knees dig into his shoulders as the first Crowley begins to fuck him in earnest and the second continues to thrust against his chest.
With a long groan, the Crowley on his stomach comes. His semen splatters over Aziraphale's chest and neck and the other Crowley's legs where he’s still settling on Aziraphale's chin.
There’s a whooshing noise and the weight on Aziraphale’s stomach disappears as one of the Crowleys fulfills his order.
With semen cooling on his chest, Aziraphale focuses on the Crowley currently jerking himself off and kneeling above his mouth. He suckles at his balls and licks at his perineum. The Crowley between his legs deepens his strokes, pushing his legs back so he can change the angle and twist his hips in a way that sends an exquisite pulse of pleasure through Aziraphale with every thrust. He’s getting close again. He just needs—
Fingers close around his clit and he wails into Crowley's skin.
The Crowley fucking him pulls out and the other climbs off of his face as he gasps for air. He barely has time to adjust before he’s being flipped over onto his hands and knees and Crowley pushes slowly back into his cunt. His heart races as he reaches for another cock to suck. He can feel balls slap against his dripping slit as Crowley fucks him from behind. Aziraphale takes the cock in front of him all the way into his mouth, trying his best to deep throat. He wants to be full. He wants more.
The frantic pace set while Aziraphale had been on his back has slowed to a sedate fuck. Aziraphale rocks back against Crowley's hips with a pathetic mewl just as this version of the demon pulls out, only to be replaced by a different Crowley who immediately sets a punishing pace, hands tight on Aziraphale's hips, pushing Aziraphale further down the bed with each thrust. The Crowley in front of him holds his hair and pushes into his gasping mouth. Aziraphale moans around the familiar taste of Crowley, the familiar feel of him in his body.
The Crowley behind him groans, hands tightening on his hips, a familiar gesture that means he's coming.
"Do I really look like that when I come?" Crowley grumbles and Aziraphale snorts around the cock in his mouth. It makes spit bubble down his face and drip onto the sheets. A mess.
The Crowley behind him pulls out and another soft whoosh signals his disappearance. Before Aziraphale can move, he's replaced by a different Crowley. Insistent fingers toy with his opening. A wet sound echoes in the room as Crowley scoops his own seed from Aziraphale’s cunt only to press it into his arse and begin scissoring him open. Aziraphale pulls off the cock he’s been sucking.
"Oh fuck.” He drops his head onto his elbows and breathes as spots flash behind his eyes.
The Crowley in front of him fists his own cock insistently and Aziraphale could probably push him off but…
He tilts his face up, allowing Crowley to come in hot spurts over his nose and chin.
The clone in front of him pops out of existence.
"Your arse is perfect, angel," his Crowley says, words growing more distant as another cock parts his lips. "I think one of me is going to fuck it."
He gasps, "Please." and the Crowley in front of him pushes into his mouth.
The Crowley behind him is still insistently fingering him open. His cunt aches as his arse clutches at the clone’s fingers. A hand squeezes his buttocks before the fingers retreat, and then Crowley presses his cock into him, stretching the tight rim of his arse until he slips inside.
Crowley pulls out immediately and Aziraphale whines. The demon grabs his hips, moving him up the bed before mounting him, knees tight on either side of his hips. It’s an odd position. Aziraphale tries to tip his head back and see. This Crowley is on top of him, entirely focused on where their bodies join, fucking down into him at an angle that Aziraphale doesn’t think he could ever manage given his own size. It feels amazing, but it doesn’t seem necessary. Then another cock presses beneath the first, pushing into his cunt and his knees tremble as he realizes why the first Crowley is fucking him like this.
A hand sinks into his hair and jerks his face forward, pulling him onto another cock. Aziraphale sucks it down without thinking and the hand releases. This Crowley doesn’t seem interested in fucking his face. Aziraphale tries his best to get him off, but a Crowley sinks into his cunt and he sees stars. He’s so full of Crowley. His knees threaten to give out and his arms shake as he tries his best to stay upright.
It doesn’t matter. The Crowley in his mouth must have been close because his hips stutter, cock pushing against Aziraphale’s soft palate and he comes. Aziraphale doesn’t expect the sudden gush of liquid and he coughs; the semen drips down his chin and chest, but he can’t even think. He throbs. Aches.
The Crowley who came in his mouth has disappeared and another appears by the bed. He’s lazily stroking himself and watching as Aziraphale pants and pushes his arse back against the Crowleys fucking him.
One of the Crowleys behind him groans and pulls out. Aziraphale can feel a wet trail of semen on his buttocks. He's pulled onto his knees by the remaining Crowley who is still firmly seated in his cunt. His hand slips between Aziraphale's legs as he fucks him from behind and begins to toy with his swollen clit. He plucks at it, rubbing his fingers over his folds and fucking him at this new glorious angle that has Aziraphale coming apart.
"Oh, Crowley, Crowley," he sighs, voice rough from his throat being fucked. His orgasm ripples through him and his hips jerk as he gasps out his pleasure. Crowley fucks him through it. Of course he does.
The new Crowley crawls onto the bed and begins kissing his chest. He slips his hand between Aziraphale's legs as well as the other Crowley comes with a moan and a sharp bite to Aziraphale's neck.
A third Crowley replaces him. His hands immediately go to Aziraphale's hips, kneading the flesh there.
The Crowley in front of him seems occupied with watching his hand move between Aziraphale’s legs, spreading the slick mixture of Aziraphale's arousal and his clones’ semen. He presses two fingers between Aziraphale's labia, forcing a gasp from Aziraphale.
Tugging on his hip, Crowley settles against the pillows and has Aziraphale straddle him, urging him to sink down on his cock.
A third Crowley (Lord knows many Crowleys it has been. All Aziraphale knows is that there are ten total and that the real Crowley is still watching) kneels at the head of the bed beside him and strokes his dick.
Aziraphale rides Crowley as best he can while he tips his head to the side to take the other cock into his mouth. He doesn't quite have the rhythm, but neither Crowley is complaining, and he relishes the sounds of pleasure coming from both his partners.
A hand presses between his shoulder blades, pushing him forward. He releases the dick in his mouth with a wet pop and allows himself to be moved.
The Crowley beneath him thrusts lazily into him while the second one behind him spreads Aziraphale's legs further apart. Aziraphale's hips ache deliciously as the head of the second Crowley's cock pushes into his stretched cunt.
"You should see the way you look right now," Crowley says from somewhere in the room, voice tight. "You're dripping. But you can take more, can't you?"
Aziraphale sobs. He can't speak. The two Crowley's are moving in tandem, shallow thrusts that have Aziraphale flying higher and higher and then they stop. Aziraphale whimpers. Without the movement, he just feels full. He tries to push down and back on the cocks inside him but hands grab his body and hold him still.
A third cock presses against his arsehole and he's certain it's too much. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes and he gasps in pain, ready to call it off but then it slips inside and the three Crowleys are moving and it's just—
Bliss.
"Oh, Crowley," he moans, "oh, yes."
His cunt pulses with another Crowley’s orgasm and maybe his own. Everything goes impossibly slick, wet sounds filling the air as that Crowley disappears.
"Please," he begs, gesturing for the Crowley beside him to fuck his mouth. The clone obeys, sinking between his lips with a gentle sigh.
He urges this Crowley to set a brutal pace. To gag him. He wants to be stuffed full and when it's done he wants every inch of himself covered in bruises or in Crowley's spend. He wants to look at his Crowley and feel owned by him.
"You're taking so much. You're doing so well," Crowley says and Aziraphale sobs again. The warmth in his chest sparks at the praise.
Tears stream down his face and he can’t breathe as Crowley tugs on his hair, fucking his throat. He asked for it and he feels perfectly, utterly used. The cocks in his arse and cunt don’t stop moving, pressing against each other as they fuck him. There's semen and slick all over Aziraphale's thighs and it's everything he wanted.
Crowley clutches his head and pulls back to paint his lips and chin in come, a proprietary gesture that Aziraphale doesn't mind in his hazy state. It doesn’t matter because the two Crowley’s fucking him barely give him a moment to breathe. He can’t come again. He’s sure of it. How many orgasms has he had?
The Crowley fucking his arse comes first, three shallow thrusts and a low growl that would drive Aziraphale wild if he weren’t already out of his mind with arousal. He can barely move as it is, and the Crowley beneath him grasps his hips and fucks him hard, making him cry out with each movement. It almost hurts. It’s perfect.
Sweat drips down Aziraphale’s face, joining the come and spit on his chest and chin. Crowley squeezes his chest with one hand before pushing his hand between them to play with Aziraphale’s clit. Despite everything, despite the soreness, the exhaustion, Aziraphale comes, whole body shuddering with the intensity of it. The Crowley beneath him fucks into him twice more and comes.
This final Crowley disappears with a soft pop and Aziraphale grunts as he falls to the mattress.
Crowley is by his side immediately.
"Look at the mess I’ve made," Crowley says, pulling lightly on Aziraphale's arm until he rolls over.
Aziraphale blinks up at him, only then realizing how much he's missed the real Crowley. Missed his voice. Missed the look in his eye when they make love.
Crowley pulls on his hip, hands drawing through the mess his counterparts left behind until Aziraphale is at the edge of the bed. Pushing his legs apart, Crowley spreads him open with his thumbs. Aziraphale is too punch-drunk to understand the look that passes over Crowley's face, but the demon dips two fingers inside him, causing an obscene squelching. Tepid semen drips down Aziraphale’s thighs and mingles with the mess still dribbling out of his arse.
"Can you take another?"
Aziraphale nods and Crowley crawls up his body. He pushes his sweat damp hair from his face and kisses him sweetly. "You were amazing," Crowley says, nuzzles his chest.
He slips between Aziraphale's thighs and rubs the head of his cock along the slippery, dripping slit. Aziraphale hisses. He's over sensitive and sore but he wants this.
"Are you sure?" Crowley asks, hesitating at Aziraphale’s reaction.
Aziraphale grasps his arse and urges him forward.
"Yes. Kiss me."
Crowley pushes into him slowly and drops onto his elbows. His kisses are deep and so full of affection that Aziraphale fears he may cry.
Crowley rocks into him, his movements soft and easy. After the euphoria of the last hour, it feels like sinking into a hot bath.
"Oh, angel," Crowley breathes, tucking his face into his neck.
Aziraphale wants to rise up and meet him, to give as good as he's getting, but his body feels like cooked porridge and all he can do is lie there and clutch at Crowley's back while his demon makes love to him. The soft rocking of their bodies is its own unique pleasure, simmering low through Aziraphale’s nerves.
This Crowley knows everything about Aziraphale’s body. He doesn’t have the single-mindedness of the clones and when he pushes back one of Aziraphale’s legs and twists his hips just right, Aziraphale cries out.
Crowley kisses him as his hips move faster, pushing sounds of desperation from Aziraphale’s lungs. He’s so close but he’s not sure he can get there. But Crowley is deliberate in his movements and Aziraphale finds himself tumbling over the edge before he knows it, nails scraping over Crowley’s back as he sobs through his final release.
Crowley pulls out and fists his own cock. When he spills over Aziraphale’s stomach, it's with a harsh gasp as his chest heaves
Aziraphale knows the feeling.
"Let's get you in the shower," Crowley says, rolling out of bed and wrapping him a fluffy towel despite the fact that all that does is get semen all over the clean cloth. "And I've got you those bon bons you like. With the creamy centers. And a full drawer of take out menus."
Crowley pushes him into the bathroom which has no right being so big. Aziraphale stumbles into the giant shower stall.
"Woah there, angel," he says, pulling him back. "Why don't you sit there?" He points at the toilet. "And I'll get the shower started."
Aziraphale drops onto the seat and stares at Crowley fiddle with the taps. He's so handsome. All his pretty angles. Sharp hooked nose. Big eyes.
"You have nice eyebrows," Aziraphale says.
Crowley gives him a flat look. "Alright, angel. Sure. You have nice eyebrows too."
"Thank you, my dear," Aziraphale says, touching the brows in question as Crowley helps him into the shower. "You know, I feel a bit drunk."
"That’s probably all the sex," Crowley says, deadpan.
Aziraphale hums happily and leans against the cool black tiles. "You're so handsome. I'm going to marry you."
Crowley knocks over what looks to be a very expensive bottle of soap. He stops to pick it up and clears his throat. "Why don't we talk about that tomorrow? Let's get the spunk off of you."
"Your spunk," Aziraphale says with a satisfied wiggle.
"And then you can have a snack," Crowley says, already rubbing soap in wide circles down his back and buttocks.
"A snack!"
"Yes, angel," Crowley says, sounding very amused. "As many snacks as you want."
Aziraphale turns around and looks at Crowley, hair plastered to his forehead, eyelashes clumped with water.
"What is it?" he asks.
Aziraphale shakes his head. "I love you. Very much."
Crowley kisses him. "I love you too." He raps his knuckles against Aziraphale's side. "Now stop distracting me."
Aziraphale huffs but turns back around. Sometimes it’s nice to let Crowley take care of him.