The Known/Unknown Quantity

Chapter 77: Go Slow

Chapter 77: Go Slow

Crowley slid to the floor, his knees pressing against the angel's. With his palm he reached in and touched his wide, heaving chest, spread the curtain of those wet locks away over his shoulder, and lifted his chin as much as he could without him wincing. He kissed him full on the lips, feeling all the angel's labor against whatever, it was that held him in this position. "You're bound up like a tight ball."

"Just...parts."

Crowley smirked at him, rose over his shoulder, and yanked off the cloak with a flourish.

"Just parts?" Crowley repeated.

He rose to his feet, and inspected Aziraphale's work.

To the back.

"You've hogtied yourself."

The bindings weren't extreme. There was no redness in the extremities. But the positions of said extremities were. Aziraphale had forced his own his ankles and wrists so far together Crowley wondered how his limbs were breaking apart.

"How are you managing this?" he gasped. "You can't bend this far, can you?"

"Lots of people can."

"But, angel, your dexterity—"

"My tendons are stronger than you think," he countered with light humor. "But, it did take a bit of a warm up to get them to stretch."

"Shit! Are you ok?"

"I can breathe fair enough. Are the muscles on my neck sticking out?"

"No," the demon conceded, placing a hand on his bound wrist. The angel moaned.

Crowley suddenly stood up again, and started to pace. When he came round to the front, he said," You're gleaming. Glowing, and gleaming. And you smell—"

"Olive oil. Straight from the Holy Land."

"God, you BATHED in it."

The response was nearly inaudible. "Yes, Lord."

Crowley collapsed to his knees in front of him.

A pool of light fell over them. Crowley twisted his head slowly back and forth around Aziraphale's face, within intimate inches of him. He could smell the oil mingling with the angel's perspiration. He could see the dust of the shop glinting in the soft light.

"Are these more of your special effects?" he asked dreamily, a little sorrowfully.

"None of it intentional, if it is," Aziraphale murmured.

"Angel, I love you."

"I know."

Crowley bore his fangs. "Cheeky bastard."

And then," See you on the other side, angel."

"See you on the other side, my Lord."

Crowley set the kiss wide. He scooped up and took the angel's parted lips, and held them. He forced himself to feel Aziraphale's body tremors until at last, there was only shallow breathing. Then, he raised his chin with his hand, and looked expectantly into his pupils.

"Oh," was all he said.

"I'll transition slow," the angel explained, knowing his eyes seemed normal.

"But...your body."

"Slow," he reiterated. "I had to approach this thing so very carefully."

"Understood. But I've never seen you go," he looked his body up and down, "piece by piece."

The angel leaned into his hand, and rubbed against it. "Once you place yourself in my mouth, you'll see the rest."

"I'm both afraid and dying of anticipation."

Aziraphale tilted his head, his eyes so large and shimmering. "Yes, Lord."

"I'll never get used to that. Don't ever let me used to that."

"Yes, my Lord."

Crowley growled and threw his head back. 'Roit! And off we go!"

Still growling, he slammed himself into the throne, yanked down his zipper, and let his erection plop out into the angel's expectant face. Then, without any ceremony, he placed his fingers around the angel's waiting mouth, and encouraged them wide open into a perfect O.

Already he could see Aziraphale's pupils growing larger, his eyelids relaxing.

And, taking a hard inhale through his nose, Crowley grabbed his dick and inserted it deep into the angel's waiting throat.

Almost instantly, his lips suctioned onto it, his tongue caressing the bottom spine of the appendage. Wider and wider, deeper and deeper, he continued, until the whole of Crowley's penis was almost past his esophagus.

Crowley fell back, his shoulders banging against the thick boards of the throne, and let the angel take over.

Why did he suddenly feel so fucking spent?

"Augh!"

Aziraphale had moved on to stroke with his tongue, then pulling away along the shaft, leaving it gleaming. For a moment he gave his attentions to the large head, sending the demon reeling, then sucked on the underside of the shaft, and came up to his balls, up and under.

Crowley was beside himself. All he was—was suddenly there in the angel's mouth.

Aziraphale came back and swallowed him again. He repeated these moves, taking long strokes, all the way out and in again. And each time he came forward, he locked eyes with the demon, and started to make him rock.

Each time he reappeared; his pupils grew larger.

And with an unsteady hand, Crowley took up the note from the arm rest, and began to read.