The Known/Unknown Quantity

Chapter Eight: Love From Friendship has a Core

Chapter Eight: Love from Friendship has a Core

Crowley practically hauled the angel up by his short hairs into the kiss, but his body had remained a dead weight. He had completely relinquished control.

                He hung there, raised up on his knees, but all his weight was in Crowley's strong grip. His mouth opened up like a blossom.

                Crowley had pried the angel's jaws open with his own, but from there the attentions became less sharp, gentler, explorative.  He penetrated his mouth with his tongue, and slowly the angel responded, mimicked, followed.  Soon the kiss became a conversation, and more supple. Slowly Crowley's gripped lessened and he lowered him back down to his haunches. The angel's parted lips remained slightly open, saliva sparkling around the edges.  Crowley regarded him and wiped some away with his thumb.

                "God. Damn, angel."

                "May you be forgiven," he muttered vaguely.

                "Oh, stop that."

                The angel smirked.

                "How's the back of your neck? Did I pull too hard?" The angel's answered barely a shake of his head, that stupid grin still on his face.  Great, he's gone all space-cadet again. Crowley knew for sure his neck was stinging like a mother, but at this point his friend couldn't give one single shit.

                Crowley lifted his chin up and he gave him one more brief kiss, then he abruptly stood up and shoved on the angel's shoulders.

                So, it was like a see-saw. Aziraphale's bottom went up and now he was on his hands and knees, waiting and thrilling and trying so hard to keep hard. That was the game now, right?

                The game...

                The game as an exercise in expression. You, my demon, have eyes the size of Minnesota. I can hold on for your benefit. I've proven I can do it. Sympathy isn't a bad thing, is it?

                And he could feel the reply as Crowley sauntered around him. You. Clever. Little, Bastard. Sympathy.

No.

This is for ONLY YOU.

Crowley paced, and seemingly nonchalantly slid a finger down the angel's spine, a quick stripe from his shoulder blades to the small of his back.  Aziraphale clearly fought to stay still as his back muscles tried to arch against his will. 

Crowley continued to move about him, touching this and that in an appraising sort of way, and then quite suddenly...

He slammed his hand down on Aziraphale's backside.

His bottom hit the floor. The angel swallowed the pain.

The hit made him feel as if his eyes were thrown across the room. The heat from the impact spread over his body, sending him further inward.

It left a large red mark, and Crowley smiled.

                "You've got a lot to work with, you know."  The angel remained utterly still. Crowley came back around and plunked down on the bed's edge, waiting for the angel to stop enveloping the pain.  When his eyes focused back in, Crowley AT LAST made a display of unzipping his pants, and the long-awaited erection fell out, pointing directly at the angel.

                It hung there between them while Aziraphale held his breath, his eyes enormous. It froze him. So long, waiting to see this. So long without knowing that's what he wanted to see. Crowley had to lightly touch him to wake him up.

                He gently lifted the angel's chin.  "You have a question?"

His friend nodded.

"Well, go ahead."

"You're, eh, penis."

"'Right.  It may turn into a pile driver, soon enough."

"I mean, it's bending to the right."

"It makes a lot of right turns. Time measurement. Get faster places. Anyway...whot?

"Head's...so...large."

Crowley grinned. "Nice complement, but beating around the bush, literally. What's up?"

"Hard to spot with it as, um, erect, as, uh, wow, um formidable, as it is. I can make out rather a large amount of bunched skin behind the," his voice broke, "impressive head."

"He's got a turtleneck, but no fangs, I assure you.  Only the female demons have those."

The angel's face fell.

"Kidding, only kidding, well, kinda kidding.  Just sayin' you really ought to know the girl before you commit to putting anything down there—"

"Crowley—"

"Maybe it's a fashion trend.  Too much hentai, or tentacle porn.  That'll be the next big thing, Geez."

"Crowley!"

"Oh, relax. I'm burning off nervous energy.  It's not every day your best friend decides to worship your COCK." The demon ran his fingers through the angel's hair, and felt him shift back into that dreamy state of mind. "I'm allowed my nerves too. But I'm the one still in control. Not some rando. If that makes you feel better."

"It's you." Said like he was the only thing in the angel's world. Ah, fuck.

"Tell me what's going on."

"You're not circumcised," he murmured.

                The demon leered," Woll, what did you expect? Are you ok with that? Go ahead and answer me."

"Just surprised is all. Curious."

"But not to worry, I take a lot of care down there, or your discerning palate would know."

Crowley rested his head on his fist. "Now, what I'm curious about is your gag reflex?"

Aziraphale muttered. "I'm not sure if I have one."

Crowley let out a barking laugh! "I'm sure you do, angel. But look, do this," He took Aziraphale's head between his fingers so the angel had his full attention. "I'll not have you choking.  Just take in as much as you can, slowly.  And when you feel your throat tighten, stop, and push the back of your tongue to the roof of your mouth. Press your knuckle down when you get to a comfortable place."

Aziraphale look mesmerized.  But he nodded.

"Open wide, angel." Crowley took both thumbs at the corners of the angel's mouth and encouraged it wider. He took his shaft in one hand and guided in to the angel's waiting lips.

Aziraphale's mouth encapsulated Crowley's head and slipped over the shaft, his hand rising up to accompany it and encircle it right next to his mouth and creating a perfect seal. His eyes stayed locked on Crowley's as he eased more in.

"Aw, God you feel so wet, so warm. Ah, angel!" Crowley didn't feel the press of the knuckle in his palm until he was nearly up to the balls. "The fuck, angel?" Aziraphale's jaws were so wide apart his chin was thrust against his neck.  Crowley could feel the head going past his esophagus. "Angel!, Fuck, maybe you're right!"

Slowly he felt the muscles in the angel's tongue gathered, bunched, flattened, probed along the crinkled skin.  Crowley's response was to seize his fair hair and pull him away and then push further in.

"Well, here we go.  See you on the other side."