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An embarrassment of riches, thought Aziraphale Fell as he gazed down at the man underneath him.
The day had gone brilliantly to plan. Aziraphale had wooed the supposedly grumpy solicitor who’d come to steal his theme park – swept him away with the magic of it all. Crowley had owned up to the plot, agreed to come work for Aziraphale instead… agreed to a kiss. And then to more kisses.
Now they lay on the balcony of the sorcerer’s spell tower at the center of the park, the fireworks show having finished below. Crowley was on his back on the picnic blanket, surrounded by pillows, Aziraphale above him.
And for the first time in decades, the billionaire Aziraphale Fell felt… rich.
“My treasure,” he murmured into Crowley’s jaw as he pressed yet more kisses below it.
“Mmngh,” said Crowley coherently.
Aziraphale chuckled. “Everything all right, my dear?”
“It’s just – you’re just –”
He was cut off by a park-wide announcement. “The Lands of Wonder will be closing in fifteen minutes,” spoke a pleasant voice. “Thank you for visiting, and have a wondrous day!”
Aziraphale saw the moment that Crowley remembered where they were. His eyes went wide – that beautiful honey-brown, unencumbered now by dark lenses – and he glanced out toward the passing crowd, far below. “Can they see us?” he whispered.
Close enough for Crowley to feel it more than see it, Aziraphale shook his head. “We’re very high above them, and we’re in the dark. We can see them, darling, but they have no idea we’re here.”
“Do this often, then, do you?” asked Crowley, trying for flippant, but Aziraphale sensed the insecurity behind the words. “Take people up on the balcony and have your wicked way with them?”
“No, I do not,” Aziraphale replied.
He considered telling the full truth, which was – never. Never, in any part of the park. His dalliances were few and far between and mostly occurred at a discreet BDSM dungeon across town… but, no, Crowley didn’t need to know that quite yet.
Crowley was looking at him with those wide, doubtful eyes, though, so Aziraphale spoke again: “I’ve never had my way with anyone up here, dearest. And I needn’t start now. If you’d like to just go to sleep…”
“No,” said Crowley so quickly that Aziraphale gave a gentle laugh.
“You’d rather stay up with me?”
“Rather go anywhere with you,” Crowley said, looking dazed.
Aziraphale took the opportunity to drag another long kiss from his lips. It had been a troublesome day – a day of dreams coming true, but a day of frustration, waiting for night to fall. “I’ve wanted to touch you all day,” he confessed. “You’ve driven me mad with it.”
“You were mad?” Crowley propped himself up on his elbows, looking incredulous. “Fell – Aziraphale.” (How sweet his name sounded like this!) “You kept holding my hand. You were so close to me in the bat building – you touched my foot under the table at the restaurant!”
“Yes, because I was flirting with you!” Aziraphale giggled as he put up his defense.
Crowley laughed, too, a dark, full thing. “Oh, angel. Staying away from you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
Aziraphale took a moment to fix him in his gaze, to impress upon him the seriousness of the matter. “Then don’t stay away any longer.”
Crowley stared at him, looking tempted but uncertain, like someone at the top of a high precipice.
Knowing several good tones for giving orders, Aziraphale chose his favorite and said, “Touch me, Crowley.”
Immediately, he was graced with one hand flat on his chest and the other buried in his hair, gently suggesting he lower himself back down. And so he did.
They spent several pleasant minutes there, mouths speaking for them, before Aziraphale moved his attentions once more along Crowley’s jawline to his throat. And there they were again, those lovely sounds he’d pulled from him the first time.
Aziraphale pulled back to appreciate the picture Crowley made, pupils dilated, hair mussed, panting. “Don’t stop,” said Crowley desperately, and Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile, just a little.
“Was that an order?” he asked, teasing, and Crowley shook his head.
“Whatever you want, angel,” Crowley amended. “’m sorry.”
“No need to be sorry, dear,” said Aziraphale. “I’m only playing a little game with you.”
“I – I want to play.” Crowley glanced down Aziraphale’s form and then back up, almost coy. “You’ll have to tell me how.”
Aziraphale pretended to consider, tapping his fingers idly on Crowley’s shoulder. “I don’t believe for a moment you haven’t played this game before.”
“I haven’t played it your way.” Crowley must have been making his eyes wide on purpose, at this point. “C’mon, angel, please? Tell me how you want me.”
Aziraphale gathered up Crowley’s hands. “Like this,” he said, placing them above Crowley’s head. “And stay there.”
The stern tone jolted something in Crowley, whose hips jumped almost imperceptibly. Aziraphale suppressed a smile. It was nice to be right, sometimes. (He nearly always was. But the rewards weren’t usually quite this sweet.)
His fingers played with the buttons of Crowley’s shirt but did not unfasten them as he returned his mouth to the curve where Crowley’s neck met his shoulder. Nibbling his way up to Crowley’s ear, he cherished each small sound and shiver, each movement of his arms where Crowley nearly forgot himself but always remembered his place in time. “Oh, but I want to mark you,” said Aziraphale as he laved over a particularly sensitive spot.
He’d spoken nearly by accident, and was about to take it back when Crowley jumped in eagerly with, “Do it. Do it, please.”
“Mmm…” Aziraphale nuzzled into his throat, weighing his options. “All right, since you’re so desperate.” He undid the top button and began to work on the second. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it under the clothing.”
“Or…” Crowley began.
“Or?”
“You could…” Crowley glanced away. “I – I want it right where you were. On –” Crowley gave a demonstrative shrug, clearly the best he could do without using the hands that were held above his head by nothing but Aziraphale’s command. “My neck, where you were – please.”
Aziraphale swallowed hard. “You want everyone to know you belong to Mr. Fell?”
“Yesss, angel, please…”
“Oh, but you ask so prettily.” Aziraphale wrestled with himself. “Oh, but it would be so unprofessional…”
“I’m not planning on going back into work tomorrow. Or ever again,” Crowley pointed out. “If you need me to start here immediately, I’m a dab hand with makeup and I’ve got a couple of very professional turtlenecks…”
“You, my dear, will be taking a very long holiday before your work begins. I have plans for you.” There was another pause for an increasingly filthy kiss, and then a whimper from Crowley as Aziraphale dug his fingers into a certain spot on his neck. “Yes, all right. Just here, is it?”
“Yes. Please. Angel – fuck –”
Aziraphale took the targeted bit of flesh between his teeth and sucked, first gently, then harder as it made Crowley moan. He knew exactly the right amount of pressure to make it last for a couple of days – unless it were to turn out that Crowley’s marks faded unusually slowly, which, Aziraphale had to admit, was not an unpleasant thought.
He sat back and surveyed his handiwork, which was just beginning to bloom under the starlight.
“Oh, that will suit you nicely, I think,” he said, and then began to slide down, lifting up the bottom of Crowley’s shirt. “The rest are going under your clothing, though.”
“The rest? – ahhhhhhh!” said Crowley as Aziraphale applied just a hint of teeth to a spot above Crowley’s left hipbone.
“Do you like that, my dear?”
“Fuck, yes, more, angel, please…”
Thus given agreement, Aziraphale sucked another mark there on Crowley’s hip. “Ah, the loveliest words in the world,” Aziraphale said. “If I do my job, you might not need more than those five for this evening…”
“How are you counting – ahhh!” A matching mark was now beginning to blossom on Crowley’s right hip. Aziraphale was sure he looked positively feral as he grinned.
“Let me take you inside, dear. I fear it’s getting a bit cold for me to have you in the nude, as I’d prefer you.”
And he stood, offering his hand to Crowley, who blinked up at him in amazement.
After a moment, Crowley took it, and followed him inside.
~*~*~*~
Crowley was in heaven, and also possibly harder than he’d ever been in his life.
As Aziraphale guided him gently into the bedroom, Crowley kissed him with abandon and managed to grind against his thigh for a few moments of bliss before Aziraphale pulled back to finish unbuttoning Crowley’s shirt.
“Later I’ll ask you to strip for me, I think,” said Aziraphale, “but right now I haven’t the patience –”
Together they made quick work of Crowley’s suit and undergarments, and Crowley could not have cared less where the pieces landed. Aziraphale pressed him down onto the bed, still fully clothed, and Crowley could feel that Aziraphale was equally hard and more than his equal in the size department.
“Darling, how lovely you are…”
Aziraphale’s words lit a fire under Crowley’s skin. With a noise of triumph, Crowley finally managed to undo Aziraphale’s bowtie, earning him a chuckle.
“If you’ll give me a moment,” Aziraphale said.
Unhurried, he stood and took the master glasses from his pocket, setting them gently on the bedside table. Then he opened the table’s drawer and considered the contents for a long moment, hesitating.
“What is it?” asked Crowley.
Aziraphale watched him for another moment. Finally, he pulled a tablet from the drawer and gave it a single swipe, then handed it over to Crowley. “My STI results,” he said. “Taken since my last partner. You can see they’re all negative.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. If – if they were to have any bearing on proceedings tonight. If not, that’s perfectly all right…”
“I really hope they do,” said Crowley.
“Well, then.” Aziraphale sat on the bed and regarded him with folded hands, pleased as punch.
“I had a scare when my last partner bloody cheated on me. Dumped him and took the test the same day. All negative, too. Although you probably have that in your file on me,” Crowley teased.
Aziraphale laughed. “I do have some ethics, you know.”
“I don’t mind.” Crowley reached past him to place the tablet back in the drawer, then pulled him close to kiss him. “You can know everything about me. It’s sort of outrageously hot what you already do.”
Aziraphale quirked up an eyebrow. “Is it?”
“I wanted this so bad, angel. All day, every time you did anything… the way you talk, the way you act… you look at me like…” Feeling some emotion rise within him, possibly turning into tears, he turned away.
Aziraphale stroked his hair. “What is it, darling?”
“Like you know me.”
Aziraphale kissed him fiercely, and when he pulled back he held Crowley’s face tightly between his hands. “I do know you. I know you down to your core, Anthony Crowley, and I intend to know even more than that quite soon.”
With a scientist’s expression, Aziraphale stroked his hands down Crowley’s sides, cataloging each reaction. Mercifully moving past a ticklish point. Wetting a thumb and running it curiously over Crowley’s nipples, where he had always been sensitive. Crowley shuddered. Then Aziraphale pinched, and Crowley cried out.
“From the marking,” Aziraphale murmured, “I gather you’re not opposed to a small amount of pain.”
I don’t believe for a moment you haven’t played this game before. “You see right through me, Aziraphale. I know you know.”
“I had an inkling. But one must be exact about these things.”
“I want it. Pull my hair, scratch me, bite me… is that… something you’re interested in?” Crowley asked, suddenly shy. How sure he’d been of Aziraphale’s proclivities, but hearing his own words out loud, he began to question…
Until he caught sight of Aziraphale’s expression, pupils blown wide. “More than you know.”
“You seem like a man who knows what he wants.”
“Always,” Aziraphale said, lifting up a wrist and scraping his teeth along it lightly.
“I’m assuming – hah! – I’m assuming you have some implements as well? A – a crop, a paddle?” Honestly, at this point Crowley wouldn’t have been shocked to learn the haunted castle’s literal dungeon held a figurative dungeon.
Aziraphale seemed very impressed with him. “Another night, perhaps. For now, I’d like to have you a bit more… viscerally.”
But instead of taking off his clothes, Aziraphale went to his hands and knees on the bed, bracketing Crowley. Crowley surged up to kiss him.
Aziraphale placed a finger on his lips. “Ah, ah,” he said. “Stay there, my sweet. I want to look at you.”
Crowley lay back and Aziraphale watched his face closely as he put his hand on Crowley’s cock and began to stroke. Crowley couldn’t help but arch a bit; still, he forced himself back down as soon as he could, eyes never leaving Aziraphale’s.
“Good boy,” Aziraphale whispered.
“Fuck, angel – I’m really not going to last long, not like this. Not with you.”
Aziraphale took his hand away and stood. Crowley whimpered at the loss of him. “It has rather been an entire day of foreplay, hasn’t it?” Aziraphale asked. “Very well. What would you like for the main event?” He began to shed his clothes, folding them neatly on the bedside table.
Crowley watched, obsessed with every new feature revealed. “Why don’t you order for me,” he drawled, calling back to the meal they’d shared mere hours before.
Aziraphale grinned. “I think we’re both a bit keyed up to try something too ambitious. Turn on your side.”
Crowley had a long internal crisis over which way to turn, finally deciding on the direction away from Aziraphale, hoping to tempt him with his arse.
Aziraphale laughed softly and climbed into bed naked behind him, snuggling close for a moment, which allowed Crowley to feel his sizable hardness against his back. “My fault, darling, I should have been more specific. Towards me, if you would.”
Fairly certain he was blushing (and why was that even a thing?), Crowley did so. Aziraphale kissed him, slow, thorough, and devastating.
Then he took both of their cocks in his hand. “If you start to feel lubricant might be necessary…”
“Aziraphale, I’m not kidding about how close I am.”
Aziraphale began stroking them together, thrusting his own hips gently to cause a delicious variety of friction. “All day, were you thirsting for me, dearest? Was it terribly difficult?”
“Yeah, angel, I wanted you so much…”
Aziraphale’s eyes were staring into Crowley’s, in this light a greenish-gold. “Tell me.”
“I wanted – fuck – I wanted you to touch me, wanted you to take me, wanted – you with that bloody mist machine, wanted to lick the water off your throat –” The feeling of Aziraphale’s hardness, thick and warm against his own, was otherworldly. Crowley couldn’t help but glance down at the lewd picture they made together, Aziraphale’s cock flushed and leaking like his own. He wanted to bury his nose in the blond curls at the base of it.
Aziraphale’s laugh was breathless, affected. “Oh, but you could have.”
“Wanted – ahhh – wanted you to know – wanted you to know, angel, I couldn’t betray you, I couldn’t –”
Aziraphale pressed a kiss to his lips and sped up his strokes. “You know, I didn’t think you would,” he said, like a secret.
“You’re so perfect, how are you so…”
“And you’re perfect for me, Crowley,” said Aziraphale, low in his throat, his free hand gripping Crowley’s thigh tight enough to bruise, and that sent Crowley over the edge.
When he returned to himself, Aziraphale had started to shift on top of him, still stroking himself.
“Let me…” Crowley began. He reached out for Aziraphale, trying to remember ever dirty handjob trick he knew, finding the sensitive spot just under the head, caressing Aziraphale’s bollocks with his other hand. Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered closed. “I’m so fucking lucky,” Crowley said. “Can’t believe you picked me.”
“You ridiculous creature, who else could I possibly pick, once I knew you were an option?”
“Have to send Horsepersons a gift basket,” Crowley muttered, and Aziraphale laughed. Crowley couldn’t have said he’d ever laughed during sex before, but here they both were. And then Crowley changed his grip and Aziraphale moaned. “Is that how you like it?” Crowley asked.
“A little slower, dear – ahh, there, just like that.” His gaze was on Crowley once more. “Yes, Crowley, just like that…”
“I want to be good for you,” Crowley whispered. “I’ll do anything, angel. Just tell me what you want.”
“It’s perfect, Crowley, you’re…” He lost the thread of his sentence and Crowley felt a surge of pride.
“Next time, though. I could take you in my mouth, would you like that?”
“Yes,” said Aziraphale, looking surprisingly astonished by a tame bit of dirty talk.
“Get you all nice and wet so it goes in easy when you fuck me proper. You could fuck my face, you know I’d take it, you know I’d get off on it…”
“Crowley!” Aziraphale was clearly struggling to keep his eyes open, like his body wanted to focus on his pleasure but his mind wanted to focus on Crowley’s face. “Oh, darling, I’m so close…”
“Then give it to me,” said Crowley. “Come all over me, angel, come on the marks you gave me, ruin me, I want it, Aziraphale…”
The orgasmic expression of the man who built the Lands of Wonder was a sight to see. Aziraphale’s eyes finally closed for real, eyebrows drawing together as his lips pressed inward, pink and plush and perfect. Afterwards he started to lean down but rolled away at the last moment, onto his back beside Crowley. “Well,” he said after a moment, brightly and with a hint of mischief.
Crowley laughed. “Could’ve just fallen on me, angel. I like being squished.”
Aziraphale turned to him with a playful wrinkle of his nose. “Darling, you’re filthy.”
“Oi.”
“Give me a moment to catch my breath. I’ll fetch a towel and then I can… ‘squish’ you all you like.” He said squish like it was some sort of alien sex technique. Crowley kissed his hairline.
Eventually, Aziraphale brought a towel for the mess and, after they’d cleaned up, lay down on top of Crowley, pressing him into the bed with his comforting weight. Crowley gave a contented sigh.
“Good day, then, my dear?” asked Aziraphale.
“Perfect day. Perfect angel.” He kissed Aziraphale’s forehead.
Aziraphale smiled and wriggled somehow even closer. “I did hope. I was prepared for disappointment, but I did so hope.”
“That I wouldn’t sign you over to the Horsepersons?”
“That you would come to my bed.” Aziraphale looked up at him, all seriousness. “I always knew you wouldn’t betray me.”
“That’s – even I didn’t know that.”
“Now, Crowley. Am I not meant to know you better than you know yourself?”
Crowley paused. “…I want you to, yeah,” he said finally.
“Then allow me this certainty. You are a good man, Anthony Crowley. I knew it from the start.”
In the silence, Crowley’s mind whirred. Eventually, he asked, “Will we do this again?”
“Hmm?”
“It’s just – I mean, I get it. If you just wanted it out of your system. But I… you have to tell me now. Because if that was the last time, it would break my… I mean…”
“Oh, dearest, didn’t I tell you you’re the missing piece of me?” Aziraphale regarded him so softly, so gently, that Crowley nearly cried. “I want you as many times as you’ll have me.”
“I don’t know why I’d ever stop,” Crowley admitted.
“Then we’re perfect for one another.” Aziraphale snuggled into the hollow of his throat. “There’s a row of excellent executive suites down the road, if you’d like to live closer, but regardless of that… I’d like to see you in my bed as often as humanly possible.”
Crowley laughed. “‘Humanly,’ says the angel.”
“Well.”
“I’ll be in your bed as often as humanly possible,” said Crowley teasingly. “Get me a wand to work the lift and you’ll find me here at all sorts of odd hours. End of a long day, just come home and…” He stroked his hands up Aziraphale’s sides, earning a shiver. “Slide right in….”
“That thing you do with your voice is unfair, you know,” Aziraphale complained.
“Too late,” said Crowley. “It’s yours. It’s all yours. I’m…”
“Yes,” said Aziraphale. “Mine.”
And they held each other as the lights turned off below, until all the employees had long gone home, until they were the only two people left in all the Lands of Wonder, fast asleep, safe in each other’s arms.