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It was 23:30, and Crowley had just finished his rounds. Everyone on the ward was asleep except him. Even the nurse and other orderly had their heads down in the staff room. He couldn't blame them, the night shift on this wing of the psych ward was never terribly exciting. He unsnapped his bumbag and set it on the counter in easy reach; it was full of quick and easy supplies that he could need at a moment’s notice. He sat down at the nurse's hub in front of the security monitors and pulled out his phone. He had Unicorns to merge and care for.
He'd barely loaded the game when the phone rang.
"Crowley, third floor."
"Hello, we have a transfer from St Gabriel’s Trauma. He'll be arriving shortly. Standard intake."
Damn. There went his quiet night. He considered waking the nurse, but for a standard intake, he could manage it. Plus, if he let everyone sleep, he'd be owed a favour later.
Ten minutes later, Crowley was unlocking the door for the new patient. He'd just finished setting up the bed when the buzzer sounded. The patient was wheeled in by paramedic transport and whisked into the intake office. He was speaking frantically to them and jerking on the restraints on his wrists.
He's pretty, Crowley thought to himself. He followed the men into the office and signed off on the transfer; they never confirmed his position on the ward, and Crowley didn’t offer the information.
"Good luck, mate." The medics handed Crowley the bag of personal property, which Crowley stowed in a locker on the way to the door to buzz them off the ward.
"There's been a mistake, I- I- I do not belong here." Damp, pleading eyes looked up at Crowley.
Crowley smiled reassuringly at the posh sounding man and took a moment to really drink him in. Soft white-blonde hair, blue-green eyes, soft skin. Standard hospital gown and slippy socks, and likely nothing else. Crowley’s heart rate increased and he shifted the bumbag he’d put back on when he left the nurses' hub.
"Let’s see what the file says, and what we need to do, yeah?" Crowley opened the paperwork left by the transport guys and pulled up the intake software on the battered old computer. His eyes slid over the restraints holding Aziraphale’s wrists to the armrests. "Can you confirm your name?"
"Aziraphale Fell." There was an impatient huff.
"Perfect, thank you, Aziraphale." Crowley smiled and received a hesitant smile in return. "I'll go over the rest of your details in a moment, but it says here that you've been detained under Section 2 of the Mental Health Act. So, you'll be seeing our psychiatrist in the morning for an assessment of that."
Aziraphale looked distressed and pulled at the restraints. "There's no need! There's been a mistake!"
"Aziraphale, I believe you, but I can't make that call. It's gotta be the doc." Crowley's eyebrows drew together in sympathy. "Tell you what. Give me no trouble tonight getting you checked in, take a snooze, and I'll put in a good word before your assessment."
Aziraphale looked relieved. "Oh than- thank you!" His fidgeting settled and he looked to be working very hard on sitting still.
"Great!" Crowley smiled broadly and proceeded to zip through the intake, confirming Aziraphale’s information. There were no notes in the file on whether he needed the restraints for more than transport, but he did like how they looked against Aziraphale’s white-pink skin, so he didn't comment or offer to remove them. "And that's done. Thank you, Aziraphale. You've done well."
Aziraphale’s pupils dilated slightly and he licked his lips nervously. Crowley felt himself harden in his scrubs. Pretty, restrained, desperate, and a praise kink? Crowley hit the jackpot. He wheeled Aziraphale past the nurse's station and reached over to flick a switch and drop off Aziraphale’s file.
"What was that?" Aziraphale looked nervous and afraid again.
"Nothing to worry about, Aziraphale." Crowley wheeled Aziraphale into the room he'd set up earlier. It was a private room, which was normal for arrivals during the night to not disturb the other patients. Crowley looked down at the restraints on Aziraphale’s wrists and ankles again, appreciating how sexy the man looked, how helpless. He really didn’t want to take them away, so he appealed to Aziraphale. "Now, I'm not supposed to take those restraints off you, but I'd rather let you sleep in the bed than in the chair. Will you be good for me and let me put them back on you if I let you get in the bed?"
"Yes, I'd prefer the bed. That's very kind. But, erm-" Aziraphale’s voice dropped to a whisper. "I need the toilet first, may I?"
Crowley sucked in a breath through his teeth and grimaced. "You'd need to let me come in with you if you don't want to bedpan it. Sorry, it's the rules."
Aziraphale flushed and stammered out his agreement. Crowley unhooked the restraints from the wheelchair and followed Aziraphale into the toilet, a hand on his upper back just below his neck. It took a minute to finish, but then Aziraphale was lying down and allowing Crowley to attach his restraints.
The fidgeting began again as the final buckle was secured, and Aziraphale started pulling nervously. "Now Aziraphale, you promised you'd be good for me. Just a short sleep. Can't you be good for me?"
"I don't know that I can fall asleep like this! Unable to move?!" His pulling became more pronounced as his panic ramped up.
"What sort of things help you sleep, maybe I can help?" Crowley patted Aziraphale’s shoulder.
"Cocoa and a book." Aziraphale snapped sadly.
"I can't do those, sorry." Crowley made an apologetic noise. He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Know what always sends me off? A nice wank. Works a treat every time."
Aziraphale’s face went pink and then his wrists shook, rattling the restraints. "Well, I can't very well do that, can I?"
Crowley looked at him thoughtfully and then put a finger to his lips. He crept to the door and peeked out before shutting it quietly. He came back to the bed. "I'll do it for you, but only because you've been so good since arriving."
Crowley didn't wait for a reply before he flipped the hospital gown up confirming that Aziraphale's underwear had been taken as well and gently cupped Aziraphale’s balls in one hand. Aziraphale gasped, the restraints rattling as he tried to jerk away. “What? No!”
“It’s alright, Aziraphale.” Crowley looked at the apprehension on Aziraphale’s face and felt a rush. Aziraphale’s cock was soft, but Crowley could tell that the blood flow was starting to come in as he palmed his balls. “Just relax, let’s get you to sleep.”
Aziraphale swallowed heavily, biting his lip. His hands and feet were twitching and his breathing was quick and shallow. He looked up at Crowley and Crowley absorbed the trust and fear in his eyes. The illusion of choice made the temptation all the sweeter when he gave in. A quick, single nod of Aziraphale’s head made Crowley smile at him.
“Good man, Aziraphale.” Crowley pulled a glove out of the bumbag and slid it on. “Good man. Let’s get you taken care of, yeah?”
Crowley coaxed Aziraphale’s cock to full hardness, using his precome to smooth the way. “There we go. Lovely cock, look at that. Doing well, Aziraphale, so well. Nice and hard, leaking so much slick. Feeling good, there?”
Aziraphale held his gaze as long as he could, but it wasn’t long before his eyes fell closed and he laid back against the pillow. He was groaning softly and his hips were flexing.
“Shh, quiet now, else everyone’ll want one, and we can’t have that.” Crowley gave Aziraphale a small smile when his eyes snapped open. Aziraphale nodded and sucked his lips into his mouth. Crowley winked and sped his hand. “Good man, that’s good. Nice and hard, let me see you come, Aziraphale.”
Harsh breaths were sucked in through Aziraphale’s nose as Crowley spoke, and he pulled the restraints taut. Crowley admired the flexing muscles in Aziraphale’s forearm, the strain in his neck. The cock twitched in his hand becoming just that little bit harder, and his balls pulled up. “Be good for me, luv, come on. Who’s my good man? Come for me.”
Aziraphale’s head fell back heavily and a breath shoved out of his nose as he came. Crowley slowed his stroke, spreading Aziraphale’s spend. Aziraphale’s muscles went lax against the bed.
“Well done, Aziraphale. Well done. You lie here and relax while I get you cleaned up.” Crowley pulled a packet of wipes out of his bumbag. He was thorough in cleaning Aziraphale up and then dropped the gown and covered him up with a thin blanket. Aziraphale was already starting to fall asleep; the adrenaline drop and endorphin rush working together, exhaustion taking center stage. Crowley gave his shoulder a gentle pat and wished him good night before leaving the room.
Crowley went back to the nurses station and had a seat in front of the monitors. He flicked a switch and the monitor for Aziraphale’s room flickered to life. He watched as Aziraphale dozed, occasionally trying to change position but being prevented by the restraints. He pulled Aziraphale’s file in front of him and flipped it open, reading it over again. The posh, pretty man did not belong here and Crowley could tell that immediately. He picked up a pen and went to the bottom of the intake form.
Intake observations: Restraint necessity: inconclusive. Initial impression: suggest full 28 days.
Crowley smirked as he scribbled his initials next to the note; he never said who the good word would benefit. He looked back at the monitor with a small smile and watched as Aziraphale tried to shift in his sleep again. He stood and headed to the staff toilets, his erection demanding attention. “Going to be a fun month.”