The Known/Unknown Quantity

Chapter Nine: Patience, Angel. It's Coming

Chapter Nine: Patience, Angel. It's Coming

The...worship, went on for a spell. Enough that Crowley understood, at last what it felt like to be the last bite the angel ate.

But he pulled away, while he still knew he could hold it. He drew the angel into the bed, and laid him out like a display. Because it's what the angel begged for, and the demon was damned if he didn't oblige.

Things had escaladed quickly.

"I want you inside me so terribly," the angel pled, his breathing harsh and desperate. He was heaving, reaching out for Crowley blindly. The demon grabbed his hand, interlacing their fingers. Aziraphale's palm was slick and hot, his arm trembling with the exertion and the anticipation of more.

"Well, I'll just ram it into you, shall I?" The angel heard the snap of a glove and shuttered.

He moaned and raised his knees. Crowley gently splayed his fingers over his sensuous belly and pressed it firmly downward, causing the angel to groan loudly. But he took the cue and lowered his legs.

"I'm not doing that...yet." Two promises.

The demon released his hand and touched the angel's legs, smoothed his fingers purposefully over the trembling thighs and pressed his thumb into the supple muscle. The angel moaned and squeezed his eyes shut. Crowley shifted his fingers to the inner thighs and massaged them with purpose: exploring and watching its effect on the angel. Feeding on, and fending off, his urgent need.

"Now," he said gently, so softly, "now you can pull your legs up. I need to know what I'm dealing with here." The sides of Crowley's mouth twitched as the angel obeyed. It was a liquid moment.

Crowley took the angel's calves and guided them over his shoulders as he leaned in and pressed his palms against his friend's glut muscles to get a better view.   It was a curtain drawing back for the best performance he ever witnessed.

There in the center was a very tiny star. And it was pulsing.

Crowley pushed his gloved finger into his own mouth, then with it he lightly circled the star, felt the angel's whole body seize, and the star puckered, then relaxed, showing a tiny pinprick of darkness in the center.

Oh God he wanted to insert his finger, but not yet.

Instead, he cupped the angel's scrotum and raising it up, started to smooth his thumb hard in the space underneath. Long, pressured strokes that made the angel gasp.

"Breathe!" he commanded. The angel gulped air, but writhed.

Next, he pulled out a bottle of lubricant, the angel watching him in agony. He took a dab and smeared it around the star, which reacted again by closing and opening.

He lubricated his fingers thoroughly, then with his forefinger pressed hard into the center of the star, and it gave and clinched. The angel seized the sheets and starred popped-eyed. He didn't say anything, but he clinched down hard on Crowley's finger. "Easy, it takes some getting used to. Things don't normally go UP there, remember?"

The star acted like a maw, pulling his finger in with every contraction. Once a couple of inches in, he rummaged around, grinning, until he felt something firm against the cavity wall.

He tapped.

The angel hollered.

He applied pressure, and the angel whimpered, nearly drawling his knees to his sweet head.