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Sanctity & Subagitation	By : quantumwitch Category: G through L > Good Omens Views: 2676 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Good Omens, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Sanctity & Subagitation
- 1
Notes: Birthday gift fic for Halobender. Italicised beginning and ending paragraphs are from Bender’s fic “Secrets & the Serpentine”. Which oddly enough, was written because of something I drew. Incestuous, aren’t we?
SEE ILLUSTRATION IN MY GALLERY: yaoi.y-gallery.net/view/394261/

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SANCTITY & SUBAGITATION

He stepped to Crowley’s side and took the gloved hand in his own bare one, and they stood together without saying a word. The sky growled overhead and began to drop a gentle curtain of drizzle onto the park to announce its arrival. The few bystanders hurried away seeking dryer climes and left the two men standing by themselves at the lake’s shore.

“There’s one other thing,” Aziraphale said at last in a hushed murmur, “something else I haven’t told you. I’ve been keeping it for a while now and…”

He trailed off.

“Does it frighten you?” asked Crowley.

“Yes.”

“…does it have anything to do with me?”

“Yes.”

Crowley turned to look at the angel.

“Do I frighten you, Aziraphale?”

There came a smile.

“No.”

“Then what are you afraid of?”

Words somehow didn’t seem appropriate to Aziraphale right now, so he chose not to use them. With or without them, it made no difference; Crowley knew.

“Come on,” he said, tugging gently on the angel’s hand. “Let’s get out of the rain.”

~*~*~*~

They drove silently the half mile from Hyde Park to Crowley’s flat.

Aziraphale was shivering just a bit, being somewhat wet from the rain and also nervous. He really wasn’t so very scared, not in the way he had been before. This was Crowley he was going to… be with. Everything would be all right.

Crowley saw his trembling and turned the heat in the Bentley up just a notch more, catching Aziraphale’s grateful smile out of the corner of his eye.

When they reached the block of stylish flats, parking on the street in Crowley’s usual space (it was always open for some reason), they silently walked into the lobby and took the lift to his top floor apartment. Crowley removed his gloves and took Aziraphale’s cold, bare hands in his own. The angel felt a sudden warmth suffuse his entire body, drying his clothes, his hair, flushing his cheeks. Crowley only smiled, in a strangely gentle way, his fingertips massaging Aziraphale’s palms.

They stepped from the lift and crossed the hallway to Crowley’s door, which opened at a touch. The demon quietly took Aziraphale coat, hung it together with his own. Then he took off his sunglasses and set them on a small table beside the door, and looked the angel clearly in the eyes.

“We don’t have to.”

“I know. I’m… okay.”

“You want this.”

“… Yes. I really do.”

“Want a drink first?”

“No. I just want… you.”

The blush on Aziraphale’s face grew deeper, and he thought perhaps he’d been hasty in refusing a drink. But when Crowley reached up to his face… smooth fingers snaking around his cheek into the hair at the nape of his neck, when the golden eyes grew warmer and the demon’s lips touched his own… he was quickly feeling as drunk as he would have after a full bottle of wine.

Crowley’s lips were soft, the tongue behind them hot and slick. And gentle, surprisingly undemanding. And Aziraphale felt whatever was left of his nerves melt away. His own fingers clutched at Crowley’s arms, then slid around his back and held him close. Their mouths moved slowly but hungrily together. It all felt so familiar, even though it was entirely new. Aziraphale sighed but it came out as sounding like a moan into Crowley’s mouth.

The demon gave a tiny sound of his own, and drew back slightly to look at the angel in his arms. He’d never have imagined such an expression on his friend’s face. So helpless and wanting, his eyes dilated and darkened. A bolt of desire shot through Crowley’s entire being, tingling in places he didn’t even remember existed. Someplace deeper than his flesh, though it was certainly feeling the same.

Silently, he took Aziraphale’s hand and led him up the stairs to his bedroom. Once there, he closed the door though it wasn’t truly necessary. There was an odd sense of sanctity in this act, that they were creating a safe harbour for themselves, entirely away from the world, Heaven and Hell – as though no other eyes could see what they did, what they wanted, what they felt. It made Crowley shiver to think he was feeling this way, but he didn’t dare question it just now.

He led Aziraphale to the edge of the bed, and they sat, still looking at one another as though there was no other sight on earth. The demon was aware of his physical desires growing intense, yet also aware that this wasn’t to be rushed. He brushed his hand through Aziraphale’s hair again, then his fingers slowly and somewhat shakily meandered down to the buttons on the angel’s shirt.

“You know, you don’t need to worry about those other things either,” he said softly, watching his fingers instead of Aziraphale’s face now.

“What other things,” the angel asked breathily.

“Losing a dear friend… being completely alone…” Crowley continued unbuttoning until there were no more buttons on the angel’s shirt. Then he started on his own. “Very doubtful you’ll have to worry about losing your job or falling from grace either. I don’t think this is going to be a sin for you, anyway. It just doesn’t… feel that way.”

Aziraphale smiled softly. “I know.” His smile turned wry. “Are you sure you’re okay with it then?”

Crowley grinned. “Yeah, I think I can manage.”

“What about my fear of being trapped in a lift with no lights?”

“That I can’t help you with, sorry.”

“Oh well, it’s nothing major.” Aziraphale laid his hand on Crowley’s thigh for support as the demon shed his shirt. “I’m really not frightened now. Just… well… I have no practical experience.”

Crowley’s fingers brushed over his collarbone and shoulder as he removed Aziraphale’s shirt, causing shivers for them both. “Surely you understand the mechanics.”

The angel smiled wryly again. “I’m not naïve, Crowley. I’ve been around as long as you have. Just not using all the tools, so to speak.”

“So why didn’t you ever?”

“Angels are not especially… sexual, you know,” Aziraphale breathed a bit shakily as Crowley’s hands stroked down his sides to the waist, tingling his skin. “I simply never saw the need.”

“And what about now.” Crowley’s smile was more snakeish as he fiddled with the button on Aziraphale’s trousers. His fingertips brushed over a very sensitive area.

“I… ah… yes. I think there is, now.”

Aziraphale was definitely experiencing a powerful need, one he’d flirted about the edge of occasionally but never leapt off into the abyss. Now he was suspended over the chasm, hanging uncertainly in thin air, waiting to be dragged down into the pit. He was a bit nervous, yes. But there was no longer the avoidant fear. The end of the world had changed many things.

Crowley was pushing him gently backward onto the bed, and once his head was resting on a pillow, the demon crawled over him in a mildly predatory fashion.

“I have a need too, Aziraphale,” Crowley growled and lowered his body until they were touching fully, chest to foot, and felt their mutual hardness press together. The angel gasped and could not stop himself from writhing just a bit. Crowley smiled. “Do you know what my need is?”

“I… I think it’s obvious.”

“Don’t be so quick to judge.” Crowley’s serpentine tongue found Aziraphale’s throat, pressing against the hammering pulse. “My need is to satisfy you. Completely. To feel you clench and sweat and cry out in ecstasy. To give you the things you’ve denied yourself for six millennia.”

“Oh… Crowley,” Aziraphale whimpered, clutching the demon close. The pit still loomed beneath, but Crowley had come flying from within, taking him in his arms, and instead of dragging him downward was soaring with him to a new height. “Oh, yes, please…”

Remainders of clothing were shed and skin rubbed against hot skin.

Aziraphale, at first hesitant but curious, found that his mouth as well as his hands craved to touch the demon’s body. It was gloriously formed, which was deliberate of course but that didn’t make it any less wonderful. His own mortal form felt alive with sparking nerves, and he forgot to feel self-conscious about his pudginess, which was also somewhat deliberate if he were honest with himself. Crowley didn’t seem to notice at all, as his lips traveled downward and downward, sucking tingling nipples, teasing across ribs and stomach, mouthing the small bumps of hipbones, and finally wrapping around the angel’s now nearly painful erection. Aziraphale whined, feeling himself frightfully close to something he suspected – but wasn’t entirely sure about yet – might be an orgasm.

Oh. Oh yes, it was.

The sobbing gasps of pleasure racked his body, and Crowley lapped him up with sheer delight.

“Hmm, nice,” the demon said, nuzzling his thigh with seemingly no intention of leaving the area.

“Yes… ahh… very,” Aziraphale breathed, a soft whimper still in his voice. “Do you, er, need me to…”

“Hush, angel. I’m not done yet.”

“But I thought…”

“You think too much, you really do.” Crowley was still working him gently with tongue and fingers at once, conveniently getting those same fingers wet and slick, and then sending them seeking further. They tickled another spot, hoping that he didn’t have to explain.

Ah yes, there was that, too.

Aziraphale sighed and spread his legs a bit. He could feel Crowley’s smile against his flesh, which was a little odd, but nice. Crowley’s wet fingertip was now manipulating a place that he’d totally ignored since he’d gotten this mortal body, and though he knew it hadn’t been designed specifically for this use it was… quite pleasurable indeed. God surely wouldn’t have made it possible to feel this much enjoyment if it wasn’t ever meant to happen.

Aziraphale was beginning to twist the sheets in his fists by the time Crowley’s panting made it obvious that he needed much more. The angel smiled and reached down to stop Crowley’s hand.

“Dear, I think I’m as ready as I can be. Please… come here.”

Shuddering, Crowley raised himself over Aziraphale’s body again. “It won’t hurt, if you don’t want it to.”

“I’m not worried, my dear. Not at all.”

Aziraphale’s soft smile and rosy cheeks, not to mention his clenching legs and the hand massaging a desperate area while angling it closer to his own body, decided things for Crowley.

They came together with a gentle push and soft grunts, the final barrier between them gone forever.

At first it was like being lapped by waves on the shore, moving gently but powerfully. Very soon the waves grew more agitated, pulling them both into the depths. They tethered themselves together, legs tangling, pulling their bodies closer. Slick bodies slid back and forth, gripping one another desperately as the storm rolled through them. The demon’s hand reached between them and found purchase, hanging on for dear life as they trashed and swayed with the surf.

Aziraphale clung to the sheets and bit his lip to prevent screaming, his body trembling uncontrollably as he was once more overtaken. Crowley soon followed, squeezing his eyes shut, whimpering hoarsely while his body thrust helplessly forward.

Capsized, they washed ashore and laid there for several seconds, hearts pounding and brains utterly overwhelmed.

~*~*~*~

The demon opened his eyes and panted needlessly for breath, forgetting himself amidst the mind-numbing haze of euphoria; yellow irises were almost obscured by the dilated black orbs in their centres, the blood coursing through his body still hot from his climax. He swiped a hand through his damp, disheveled hair and propped himself up on trembling arms.

“There,” he said in a rough whisper as he grinned slightly, “that wasn’t so frightening, was it?”

Beneath him Aziraphale stopped shuddering and relaxed, cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink like a cherub from a Renaissance painting, blue-eyed and golden-haired, and sighed contentedly. He didn’t answer the question, but reached up to snake his arms about Crowley’s neck and bring their mortal flesh together again in a full-bodied kiss.

The rain pattered on the window in Crowley’s bedroom, making the room seem more cosy and the bed warmer, if also bit sticky and sweaty. But these small unpleasantries were not wished away, for it was all part of a greater experience, an experience that had just happened for the first time, in fact, and -judging from its immediate success- appeared as if it would continue to happen frequently from that point on.
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Sanctity & Subagitation