The Known/Unknown Quantity

Chap 28: A Place At The Dinner Table

Chap 28: A Place At The Dinner Table

Many people wake up at 3 AM in the morning for no good reason at all. It's a very strange time of day. Quiet but with a low energy. You can sit in the darkness and strange ideas come to you. The angel and the demon received their strange idea not from waking up, but from Crowley coming down from his terrible ordeal.

The two of them sat on the bathroom floor with the demon's head in the angel's lap. Absentmindedly the angel ran his fingers gently over the demon's scalp, savoring the feel of his weight and presence. The demon's wrists were still cuffed loosely, but after a few nudges the angel relented and tightened them enough for Crowley's satisfaction. They just talked. Not about a long ago past, or nightmares that plagued, but of dinners. In particular the rituals of the meal itself.

They also discussed the use of tactile signing. Already they had their own version of it using simple but effective words, and they practiced it now, Aziraphale cupping Crowley's long fingers and guiding him back and forth through their own language of love.

There were other topics brought up, nothing of importance or connection to what they were about to do. Just a reason for the angel to leave the demon there to be petted a little longer as Crowley mentioned one more thing, besides his bare-naked ass starting to go numb on the cold tiles. "But if I get up, now," he began, "You'll have to stop what you're doing."

The angel raised him up enough to kiss him. "The attentions will just move lower, dear boy."

"Listen, I've always wondered," Crowley continued, readjusting himself in the angel's lap, "about your taste palate. It must be very refined by now."

The angel nodded idly," I've trained it over the years to pick up the notes in many things. Smell carries quite a bit of taste as well. Sometimes I take a very long time to separate and experience each one for as long as I can."

The demon shivered, and gave a slight moan," You're really going to work me over, aren't you?"

Aziraphale tapped him on the forehead," And savor every last bite."

Crowley's flat had no more pillows than you would expect. The angel regarded the stark bedroom as if it had insulted him with its inconvenient lack of them. He waved a hand and two mound of them appeared. "A sofa would have been better," he concluded, "but this will suffice."

"Then make a sofa, angel," the demon said, shrugging as he leaned against the bathroom door frame," S'not like it's gonna stay."

"No, this way I can position you any way I like." Crowley bent at the knees and growled.

The angel turned to him, and playfully chided him," I told you to hush."

Crowley bared his teeth and let his head bobble. "Well, you know what you're going to have to do."

"Are you...ready?" the angel asked somberly, switching gears.

At the tone in his voice the demon grew still, taking on a much more subdued aspect. His eyes became hooded, his voice nearly a whisper," Oh yes."

"I won't start the process until you're comfortably in place, then you let me know when we can start."

The demon admitted to him," Sometimes I prefer what you're doing now to your 'performances,' angel. It's gentle and domineering at the same time. More your style, really. Very appealing."

"Hush now," the angel commanded, softly. Crowley gave him one last smile, and bowed his head.

He stood there for some time before the angel touched him, just waiting. Aziraphale gave a heavy sigh and regarded him longingly, then began waving his hand once more. A small cart appeared, the kind you get with room service. There was no meal on it, just tea and an array of small sandwiches. There was one set of dinnerware as well, waiting on a rather large linen.

The angel grunted in satisfaction, then turned his attention back on the demon, who stood their stock still as if he had been shut off. It made Aziraphale warm, to see him like that.

Slowly, he approached him and lifted his chin up with his fingers. The demon's face remained expressionless; his eyes unfocused. The angel ran his fingers across Crowley's graceful neck, watching him swallow with the touch, and a silver chain appeared, resting a small pendant in the hollow at the base of his throat. The angel's legs nearly buckled.

Next, he smoothed his hands over the rest of his body, feeling the demon respond to his touch but fighting the urge to show any movement. When he came to his wrists, he changed the cuffs silver. When he reached his ankles, he produced silver shackles. The chains were just long enough to allow him to shuffle. One more stroke, and they came together to form a tether. The angel pulled, and Crowley came to life, his large eyes now completely focused on the angel's face.

"This way, sweet boy." Like an automaton the demon let himself be moved toward the bed, his long legs compromised to shuffling as he was tugged. Once there, the angel carefully guided him onto his back between the pillows. His head fell across the ones in the smaller stack, his hair draping over them. Aziraphale actually took some time to arrange his locks here and there, as if plating a meal. Then he guided his legs and down until they were bent at the knees, his calves resting on the other stack. Finally, the angel made sure the demon's hips were elevated just enough by a few extra pillows. Satisfied, he left the demon there, removed his jacket and shoes, and sat in the edge of the bed.

He twisted until he was leaning back against Crowley's ear. "Ready?"

The demon nodded. Aziraphale kissed him, and watched him spasm. Watched as his mouth gaped open and his eyes rolled, as he tilted his head this way and that. His back arched, and then he fell back, gasping. When he relaxed, Aziraphale ran his hands across Crowley's eyes, called his name. He received no response.

Then his took one of Crowley's cuffed hands and started to press signs to him. The demon felt his fingers and responded.

Are you ok?

Yes.

Agape?

Keep Going.

Beg.

Keep going, please.

The angel kissed the hands, but couldn't help signing back: Finally got you to shut up for once.

Crowley broke out in a smile, but it vanished as he reset himself in his dark silent world.

As the night moved into morning, the angel finished his tea without much dawdling. But when he turned his attentions to the demon, he lingered, savored him repeatedly, savored him long sometimes, hour upon hour, until the sunlight snuck in along the gray walls of the flat. But the demon never saw the morning, never heard the chip of birds, or could express on the beauty on another sunrise. All he could do was surrender in sweet silent agony to the angel's workings on him, and the light fell on the jerking pendant around his neck, and revealed the inscription, "Dessert."