There is always a light at the end of the tunnel.
Unfortunately, sometimes that light is the soft glow of a bedroom lamp and the tunnel is Crowley’s arsehole, stuffed with a cucumber.
Sometimes.
By: millship & Spookysexy83
Art by: Sspooksart
– a few hours earlier –
Crowley stared at the refrigerator, mildly offended by the wave of cold which hit him as he searched for something to eat for the third time that day. The fridge was well-stocked, that much was true, but he shrunk back from the thought of preparing anything. He looked at the jar of pickles in the door, idle and languid, and picked it up. He squinted, examining the expiry date– only two months past! He opened the metal lid and plucked out a salty gherkin.
It crunched deliciously, not that Crowley had a particular interest in food, but its texture mollified his need for stimulation. His pants still rubbed a bit too tightly over his slinky hips, and his shirt felt a little too heavy, but it was easier to bear with a distraction.
He thought about his dear Aziraphale and how he might savor something so delicious. Crowley closed his eyes, still ruminating on the remnants of the pickle, and sighed deeply. He let his shoulders relax into the sigh, remembering the sweet way Aziraphale would sink into the feeling of pleasure when enjoying food, a good book, a gift, a naughty purchase left under his pillowcase, the subsequent use of their new bedroom companion…
Crowley curled his lip in discontent. He hissed a little, forgetting himself, before tapering off into an uncomfortable silence which settled over the kitchen. The fridge still hung open, the gentle hum seeming more like an innocent bystander to Crowley’s cloud of noxious sexual energy than an active participant in the coalescing of the kitchen into a den of sin.
Crowley put the pickles away and stared into the fridge, back at square one. He hung onto the door with one hand and picked at the skin around his nails with the other. Pickles were almost a good distraction, he thought, opening the vegetable drawer and seeing a pile of cucumbers.
“G- Someone bless Aziraphale,” he mumbled, picking one out of the bunch and considering its considerable girth in his hand. His thumb played over the lumps and ridges of the skin, caressing the unconsenting vegetable and leaving a trail of shine in its wake where it broke through the condensation accumulating on the outside in the warm air of the kitchen. The coldness played off the warmth of his hand, constricting blood vessels and feeling much heavier than it had any right to feel.
If Crowley could feel the moral weight of the choice he was about to make, he would have ignored it. But it was there, and deep in the layers of the universe, a subsonic rumbling started up like an old, obedient car engine. Life was, in fact, an entanglement of forms and functions, bones stacked atop one another, cells and divisions thereof. Crowley had gotten it right in 1601 when he made an offhand remark about “passing through nature into eternity” after he threw an apple core into the middle distance so hard it simply gave up the ghost and ceased to exist, much to the confusion of an eavesdropping playwright.
If he could have understood it, the world would have been a few philosophical sonnets richer. But even without his understanding, the mass of living things covering the earth moved forward. Humans had some idea of it. Fibonacci got some insight with his sequence, seeing it in flowers and seashells and humans. DaVinci, too, with his proportions of man, knew that nature reflected itself in infinite fractals. Trees grew branches in patterns that looked like veins, and their rings resembled fingerprints. Crowley considered the cucumber, and how much it reminded him of his own cock, long and slightly curved and perfectly sized for his hand. (note: the bumps, too, resembled an unfortunate incident in the 12th century which he would rather not remember and which took several rounds of herbs and a few embarrassing visits to the apothecary to cure, lest his superiors find out about what he had been up to.)
But the cucumber was cold in his infernal grasp, and besides, one cucumber plucked from the metaphysical vine stretching from the heavens to the earth wouldn’t hurt anyone. At least, it couldn’t possibly be as bad as the last time Crowley picked produce he wasn’t supposed to touch. So he snapped his fingers, and a warm cucumber sprang into existence with a little pop of displaced air.
He stared at the silly little thing the universe had spat out into his hand (of course she thinks she’s too good to swallow, the strumpet) with a rising feeling of excitement and intensifying jitters. If he had spent more time interacting with humans, he may have recognized the feeling as something akin to the first day of school, sans textbooks and children. Squeezing it, he imagined how it would feel against his most sensitive parts.
He raised an eyebrow in a look of curiosity as he picked up a paring knife from the counter and carved the vegetable. His fingers worked deftly, the way they had played over Aziraphale’s skin so many nights, with the firm and confident pressure of a man-creature pretending he had done this enough times to feel confident. Little green bits flew off and landed on the counter, the floor, and Crowley’s shirt. He carved in swirling peels and crumbling flakes until, at last, he had a flared base.
“Without a base, without a trace,” he whispered to himself, mocking Aziraphale’s favourite bedroom mantra.
He held it out, studying it, and dried it off on the hand towel, leaving a dusting of cucumber peel on the towel in its wake. Putting it in his pocket nonchalantly, as if anyone else could see him at that moment, he slithered up the stairs and into the bedroom.
It was a comfortable enclave, with a four-poster bed and a large floor mirror with castor wheels. It was purchased as a stationary piece, but one particularly rough night warranted a little miracle from Crowley. Aziraphale pretended not to notice so he wouldn’t have to change it back. Crowley rolled it to face the wall and flung his clothes on top of it. Slinky silver necktie, waistcoat, shirt, and pants hung over the top. He stood there, sporting only crew socks and a twitching erection. He looked down in displeasure and removed his socks, humming softly to himself with relief.
He tiptoed over to the nightstand and rummaged through the junk to find the bottle of Asstralglide. It had conferred a thin layer of greasiness onto everything in the nightstand drawer. Crowley wiped his hand across his taut stomach, and then immediately opened the bottle and doused the cucumber with lube. It slid off, landing on the carpet. Crowley ground it in with his toe and added another blop to the cucumber, this time remembering to hold his hand under the bottle.
He smoothed it over the cucumber the way Aziraphale had shown him, imagining the sweet way he would caress his cock if he were there with him. It gave him a sense of comfort, thinking about the familiar pre-sex ritual of stroking his lover off to get him achingly hard before letting him penetrate the orifice of his choice, or multiple orifices on kinkier nights in more creative corporations.
He leaned forward, looking rather less dignified than he had while pretending to stroke off a vegetable, and grabbed the cucumber while he tried to find the perfect position to insert it. With one hand, he fingered his hole while the other guided the cucumber into home base. The tip began to breach his tight muscles, and with a deep breath, he relaxed and slid it in. He got about an inch before he needed to stop and relax, imagining the way Aziraphale would hold him and comfort him and whisper all the sweet things he loved to hear to get him to release all that tension, all that discomfort, all that anxiety, and just let himself be fucked. He thought of that perfect blond angel, all dandelion fuzz and sweet cotton candy, and put an enormous amount of force onto the cucumber, sliding it into his hole to–but not past–the base. He tried to stand up, but found that he was much more comfortable bent forward. The cucumber stretched him open, and his taint was sore from the intrusion.
Leaning forward and gripping the cold, hard dresser top, Crowley tried to steady himself as the cucumber exerted delicious, intense, unrelenting pressure on his prostate and stretched his hole. It was much longer than Aziraphale–or any phallus he had taken, for that matter–and he struggled to adjust. He stilled himself, little droplets of condensation accumulating under his fingers, and loosened his vice grip on the dresser.
But the pressure was too intense, and he clenched involuntarily around the cucumber, thrusting it against his ever-more-sensitive prostate and igniting lightning bolts of pleasure that made him swivel his hips and imagine the steady softness of Aziraphale. If he were there, sitting up behind Crowley in bed, he would have his hands on Crowley’s hips, steadying him and rubbing little circles onto the bony prominences beneath his touch. It drove him wild, how Aziraphale was his anchor and the waves crashing over him, dragging him further out to sea while keeping him steady to guide the way back home.
The cucumber was perfectly warm, and Crowley was sweating with the effort of fucking himself onto it. Never had vegetables been this delicious, this pleasurable, this satisfying. Little tears welled up in his eyes, and he called out to the empty apartment for Aziraphale. “Azi, Azi, A-zi-rahhh, Angel, oh Angel…”
<*>
Aziraphale was just getting back from an errand and heard what he thought was a distressed call and went to check it out.
“Oh, dear lord.” Aziraphale gasped at the undignified state of Crowley in front of him.
“Fu…huck.” Crowley groaned.
It wasn’t the first time Aziraphale had caught Crowley in the act of doing something he shouldn’t and It probably wouldn’t be the last. In fact, Aziraphale often wondered if the thrill of getting caught wasn’t part of why Crowley did it. It also wasn’t even the first time he saw someone use something that grew in a garden to pleasure themselves.
Back in the late 19th century, in his gavotte days at the club, he saw humans use cucumbers along with other organic products in all sorts of ways to satiate their lewd desires. Which is also how he knew it was dangerous. “Crowley, really…” said Aziraphale with an air of disapproval. “of course you would choose the most improper and unsafe way to use a cucumber.”
“Ngk…” Crowley gritted out in a daze as he pulled the long phallic produce from his arse and dropped it on the bed. He hissed a grimace as his cock throbbed and his body ached to be filled again.
“Well… I carved—” Crowley said with his head a bit clearer, but was cut off by the angel.
“If you’re going to use produce for such ludicrous purposes, you should… use it on the unruly appendage in the front … not for internal matters,” Aziraphale scolded. “It could— Well, things could end rather unfortunately … There could be slippage,” he said as his hands flailed about.
Crowley cackled, remembering the awfully naughty thoughts he had just had about Aziraphale minutes prior, and hearing him talk about ‘unruly appendages’ had him properly entertained. Still quite horny and unsatisfied, he stood up, kicking his feet as he stepped closer to Aziraphale almost close enough to kiss. He tilted his head to the side and shot a curious and coquettish gaze from beneath his lashes. “And just how would you know, Angel… hmm?” He asked with a salacious smirk. Amused at the very naughty things Aziraphale had knowledge of for someone that was supposed to be so innocent.
Things began to percolate in Aziraphale’s pants underneath that amber serpentine gaze that always tugged at his heartstrings. A prickly sensation ran through his body and a flash of colour washed over him as he took in Crowley’s state of undress and his proximity.
They had been together in the biblical sense for a while, but Aziraphale always did his best to keep his wits about him and not go completely feral over Crowley every time he saw him. He closed his eyes for a second so he could redirect his thoughts from the urge to bridge the gap between them and sink his teeth into the fiend’s juicy bottom lip. At least long enough to answer his question. “You know, my studies—” Aziraphale said, as he blinked his eyes back open.
“Oh, are there books in the bookshop about turning cucumbers into fleshlights these days?” Crowley teased.
“Hm? … A flashlight shouldn’t go up there, either.” Aziraphale said, gobsmacked.
Crowley giggled. “No, Angel, a fleshlight. It’s a sex toy humans use on their cocks.”
“Really? Interesting…” said Aziraphale. Hearing about the sex toy reminded him of a time when he had curiously probed Mrs. Sandwich with questions and found out about the power and versatility of duct tape. “You know books are not the only way I learn things, Crowley,” Aziraphale huffed.
Crowley nodded, but the thought of Aziraphale learning about such a thing in any other way caused a small peak of jealousy because he had not been a part of it. His mouth went dry, and he swallowed thickly, creating a popping sound.
“Well, I suppose it would be easier to just show you,” said Aziraphale, sighing as he removed his blazer and hung it up on the coat rack by the door.
“Oh–yesss, please.” Crowley said, feeling quite chuffed. He shook his hips, and his cock swung like a bell, which only drew more attention to his nakedness.
Aziraphale’s colour turned a darker shade of red and he cleared his throat, trying yet again to concentrate.
He was not about to use a miracle, especially when he would have to explain to Heaven just why he used it on a cucumber of all things, and so he turned and headed downstairs to the kitchen as Crowley trailed close behind him.
When they got to the kitchen, Aziraphale saw the muck Crowley left in his wake and shot him a pointed glare.
“Wot? I tried to tell you I carved a base,” Crowley said with a shrug.
Aziraphale opened the fridge and reached into the vegetable drawer to look for the cucumbers he had bought to make tea sandwiches with. Seeing all the different sizes, he decided it gave him an excuse to take a gander at Crowley’s appendage which he had been attempting not to do for this whole conversation. He peeked over the fridge door at Crowley, who had leaned his side against the counter as one tantalizing knee rocked back-and-forth. It only drew Aziraphale’s eyes in more.
“See something you like, Angel…?” Crowley teased.
Aziraphale took a deep breath before he responded, yet avoided actually answering the question. “It’s for the cucumber. If you pick the wrong size, it won’t work. If it’s too small… Well, it’s rubbish. And if it’s too big, there won’t be enough… err… suction.”
“Oh … Well, we definitely need… suction…” Crowley said, and obscenely licked his lips.
A shiver went down the back of Aziraphale’s neck, and his lips twisted as he tried not to smile. He turned back to the cold cucumbers in the fridge and picked one he believed was the right size before shutting the door and taking it to the counter by Crowley to work on.
Crowley watched Aziraphale intently as he worked the buttons on his sleeves and rolled them up, baring his rugged yet refined wrists. His heart beat faster thinking about how strong they were and what they felt like to kiss.
Aziraphale explained things as he completed each step. “So first off… we start by washing our hands. We might as well clean the cucumber while we’re at it,” Aziraphale said, turning on the hot water. After he retrieved some soap, he washed his hands, and rinsed them as well as the cucumber, (warming it up in the process) he couldn’t help but imagine Crowley while he ran his fingers over the ridged length of it. Believing he had done a thorough enough job he set it back down on the counter. Squeezing another dollop of soap out, he stopped to wash a dirty paring knife he spotted on the counter. knowing he needed one. He washed it and finished drying everything off with the towel. “Okay… Now, that’s done, we start the duct tape process in order to ensure durability,” he said, opening the drawer.
“Duck tape?” Crowley asked.
Aziraphale paused to look at Crowley. “No dear, we’re not taping ducks together. Duct tape.” Aziraphale said.
“Does the duct tape have ducks on it?” Crowley asked just out of curiosity.
“No, but knowing you I’m sure you can find some somewhere,” Aziraphale answered, shaking his head at the demon’s obsession with ducks. He looked back to the drawer.
Crowley’s eyes were drawn back to Aziraphale’s wrists, watching the muscles work as Aziraphale pulled out the tape and a long, thin melon baller scoop. But when he picked up the paring knife and moved toward Crowley, Crowley jumped back, worried about his cock being that close.
When he saw Crowley’s reaction, Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “What do you think I’m going to do, use it on you? Don’t be ridiculous,” said Aziraphale.
Crowley shrugged, and a tiny squeak came out of him as he watched Aziraphale tear a strip of duct tape clean off with his bare hands. He wanted those hands on him so badly!
Aziraphale wrapped the tape around the cucumber, leaving about an inch open at one end, and repeated the process until it was fully covered. He placed it back down on the cutting board. “Off with its head,” he said as he used the knife to cut a cross section off the tape-free end of the vegetable, and once again bit back a smile.
Crowley sneered in an attempt not to laugh at the angel’s crack at dark humour, but as he side-eyed him, he couldn’t help himself. “Oh, piss off,” he said with a playful growl, giving Aziraphale’s shoulder a shove. “Ok, then wot?” He asked, loving Aziraphale’s enthusiasm when he wanted to teach him something he learned. He leaned back on the counter and rested his head on his hand.
Aziraphale picked up the scoop. “Well… Now, carefully scoop the flesh out of the cucumber so that the hole is just slightly bigger than the size of your…” He paused as he glanced side-long at Crowley‘s groin, giving his collar a tug, and gestured to it.
“It’s a cock, Angel. We both have one. We’ve even given them a go. It’s just a cock. Come on, say it with me, Angel: cock.”
“No, I can’t be bothered. I’m afraid,” said Aziraphale, shaking his head. “You can save the insides for a yummy snack later…” he said as he popped a plump, juicy ball in his mouth and hummed happily.
The sound sent a thrill through Crowley that made his cock twitch, and it began to visibly harden.
It tickled Aziraphale to see the effect he was having on the demon. “So… that’s really all there is. Unless, of course, you decide you need lubrication… Though it’s properly soaked already so it’s not completely necessary.” His eyes fluttered nervously as he turned back to clean up.
Crowley picked up the hollowed cucumber, taking a few steps back toward the table. Never having sat properly on anything a day in his life, sat bare-arsed on the cool, hard edge of it. He rolled the taped cucumber around in his hands, careful not to crush it, then poked one finger in and detected the thin layer of flesh still there, noting that it was somewhat firm and definitely slippery. “I suppose it would be possible,” he murmured to himself before looking back up at Aziraphale. “You haven’t finished,” Crowley said, sighing in frustration. “You said you were going to show me. That was only half of it. You need to finish. What if I use it wrong again? You wouldn’t want that, would you, Angel?” He said with a pout.
Aziraphale turned back to look at Crowley, his eyes once again drawn to those lanky legs as he watched him spread them wide, showing off the fiend’s arousal fully. Aziraphale unconsciously licked his lips with a thirsty sigh at the sight, and his own member strained against his trousers. He closed the space between them and stood between Crowley’s feet. “No, no. We mustn’t have that,” said Aziraphale with a lower tone than usual, deciding he needed to take action. “Let’s take this somewhere more comfortable, shall we?” He rubbed his hands together, tongue flicking over his lips, and leaned over Crowley’s naked corporation. “Alright. Hold onto that cucumber.”
Crowley happily nodded and brushed his hand up his chest to his neck, then draped his arms over Aziraphale’s sturdy shoulders. The angel lifted him up by the thighs, and Crowley wrapped them around Aziraphale’s stout waist like a long limbed koala clinging to its favorite tree.
Aziraphale carried Crowley in the straddled embrace with ease, as if he was as light as a feather, and headed back upstairs to the bedroom where this all started. Enlivened by the warmth and the feeling of Crowley’s arousal rubbing against his stomach through his waistcoat, he got a wiggle on.
Crowley giggled in giddy delight in Aziraphale’s ear, unable to resist. And as they climbed the stairs, he nibbled at and pressed kisses to his neck. He loved being picked up by those arms. They made him feel safe. He knew how much stronger than him the angel actually was, but he also knew that Aziraphale would never use that strength to hurt him.
Once they were back in the bedroom, Aziraphale let go of Crowley with one arm and shifted some pillows around on the bed to make a good, comfy spot to set him down. Aziraphale looked at the chaotic state of the place, rolling his eyes, and found the bottle of Asstralglide. He gingerly picked it up with two fingers, pinky out, disgusted at its condition. He balked, shooting Crowley a sassy glare.
“Wot? For fuck‘s sake, it was like that already!” Crowley said, rubbing his ear to soothe him in the subconscious way he always did. Then he looked down, fiddling with the phallus in his hand, checking to see if it was still okay after the trip.
Aziraphale pulled a white hanky from his pocket that he usually used to clean his glasses when he wore them. After wiping down the bottle, he stepped to the side of the four-poster bed and tossed the lube on the bed between Crowley‘s thighs. He set the hanky beside them before kneeling down on a pillow next to him. He was momentarily distracted by the demon’s slinky frame as he shifted his knees on the pillows. Unable to keep his hands off of him any longer, he glided his hand up the sleek skin of Crowley’s back and curled his arm around the shoulder on the opposite side of him, beginning to rub little circles into it with his thumb.
Crowley sighed, craving more, and turned into the embrace to rest his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder. He gazed up into his ocean eyes, wanting to drown himself in them. “Mhmm… Yesss, Angel…” he said, tipping his chin up. “Come on… Do it. Correct me,” he pleaded.
Aziraphale ogled Crowley’s corporation, this time letting himself take his time. Then, as he amorously gazed directly into Crowley’s eyes, he received a come-hither stare of encouragement. “Patience. It’s important to note it’s not just about the cucumber.” Then Aziraphale ran his hand up Crowley’s inner thighs, noticing the difference in temperature as he went along.
Crowley threw his head back, sucking in air through gritted teeth, and bit his lip as his heart raced at the touch.
Further emboldened, Aziraphale moved his hand up to Crowley‘s torso keeping his touch light and teasing while he drifted it along the indentation of the taut muscles that rippled under his touch. He only stopped to tweak the sensitive buds on Crowley’s chest.
Crowley whimpered, and his breath caught. Closing his eyes, he tipped his head up and arched his back, savoring the attention.
Aziraphale gave Crowley’s cleft chin a gentle squeeze to make him look back at him. Then he picked up the bottle of lube, opened it, and squirted some in one hand. Using his chin, he closed the bottle and tossed it to the side. He looked back up into Crowley’s eyes and licked his lips as he rubbed the lube between his hands to warm it. Once warm, he glided his hand up and down Crowley‘s length and ran his thumb over the precum that had pearled at the tip.
“Oh… Fuck–fuck–fuck—.” Crowley whined, feeling so good that he almost dropped the cucumber.
“Whoops! We can’t have that,” Aziraphale said in a low, silken tone as he took the cucumber from Crowley’s long slender fingers with his own thick, strong ones. He glanced down again to make sure he had the cucumber in the exact right position, then lovingly looked straight into Crowley’s lust-addled gaze as he slid it over the tip of Crowley’s cock.
Keeping eye contact, Crowley shuddered in Aziraphale’s arms and let out a small puff of air at the sensation.
Unable to resist that pout any longer, Aziraphale seized the opportunity for a hungry kiss that tasted of the salty remnants of the day as well as their mingled breath.
Crowley reciprocated, enthusiastically matching his intensity.
Aziraphale continued to slide the wet cucumber down Crowley’s cock teasingly.
Crowley slung an arm around Aziraphale’s head, sinking his fingers into those blonde curls he thought so fondly of, while they continued to playfully taste and explore one another’s mouths. He hissed more pleasured moans into the angel’s mouth as his other hand met with Aziraphale’s on the vegetable.
Aziraphale continued pumping the cucumber, slowly at first then gradually picking up the pace. He could hear the sound of the squelching cucumber and the pleasured stammering moans that escaped the fiend.
Crowley’s pulse raced faster, and his eyes locked with Aziraphale’s, burning in a lustful plea for more. He twitched as the tension began to build up and his body was set aflame, spilling hot precum into the cucumber.
Aziraphale ghosted his lips against Crowley’s ear. “There now. See? That’s better. This is how you’re supposed to do it. Doesn’t that feel better?” Aziraphale murmured, smirking.
An electric heat burned through Crowley’s body as the warmth of Aziraphale’s breath wisped over his skin. His voice sounded like honey. “Oh… yesss,” Crowley cooed. An amused and disbelieving cackle bubbled out of his throat at the fact that Aziraphale would know about such things. His legs began to stiffen and his toes curled, bringing him closer to bliss.
Noticing this, Aziraphale ran his fingers up from the nape of Crowley‘s neck to his fiery mane, and with a quick pull, yanked the hair back to expose his neck more. He slowed his strokes, not wanting Crowley to come yet. Humming while he kissed and sucked on Crowley‘s neck, he traced along the curves of it with his tongue before roving back up to his jaw and nibbling his ear.
Crowley breathed heavily, relaxing in response to Aziraphale’s ministrations.
“Such a needy little thing. You just wanted my attention, didn’t you?” Aziraphale growled. He watched Crowley closely for a response while he continued working Crowley’s cock.
His voice sent another shockwave of electricity through Crowley’s body that made him ache for more. “Oh, yesss, I’m a right parched bastard. Drown me with your attention—” He beseeched with fiery desire.
Aziraphale chuckled. “ Well, I suppose…” he said, quickly releasing Crowley and leaving the cucumber in his hand.
Crowley was saddened and confused at the loss of contact until he realised what Aziraphale was doing. Then his eyes danced with carnal desire as he watched the angel get to work removing his clothing piece by sweet, agonising piece. Crowley stroked the cucumber up and down his cock with each piece of clothing Aziraphale removed, folded, and set on the dresser, edging himself. He was pleased when he finally caught sight of the angel’s soft flesh that he so yearned to press up against. When Aziraphale was down to just his knickers, Crowley couldn’t help himself anymore. He ran his foot up the front of the angel’s thigh to his groin.
Aziraphale’s member throbbed and he gasped, sucking in his bottom lip as he felt Crowley’s toes teasing him through the material which was dampened by leaking precum. “Oh… Oh my … You really are hungry for my attention, aren’t you?” Aziraphale teased. His voice had a little more gravel to it.
“Ravenousss…” Crowley purred as he ran his tongue along the edge of his teeth with a smile. Then used his toes to tug at the knickers.
Aziraphale pulled them down and his shiny cock burst free from its constraints, relieved to finally release it from confinement. He kicked them off and closed the distance between the two of them.
Crowley’s eyes widened, and he giggled in adoration and excitement. “Oh, finally! Finish me– I mean, you have to finish showing me,” he said as he writhed in place.
Aziraphale grunted as he leaned down, planting a hand on the bed next to Crowley, and pulled him by the nape of his neck to press their lips together in another steamy kiss. “Mmm…” he hummed against Crowley’s lips, giggling as he pulled back. “Don’t let go of that,” he said, glancing down at the cucumber. He moved his hands to Crowley’s thighs and, with a deep, resonating growl, Aziraphale swiftly pulled Crowley against him to bring his arse to the edge of the bed and let the demon’s legs rest upon his shoulders.
“Weee! Hehehe,” Crowley cackled, kicking his legs a few times as he relished his angel’s animalistic side.
“You quite enjoyed that, didn’t you?” Aziraphale asked, grabbing the Asstralglide.
Crowley expectantly smiled, his eyes shifting between Aziraphale and his shaft as he desperately waited for Aziraphale to let him stroke it.
“Alright, hold out the other hand,” Aziraphale instructed with a chuckle. When Crowley did what he was told, Aziraphale clasped hands with him, warming the lube.
Once warm, Crowley immediately reached down and went to work stroking and squeezing the angel’s member as he enjoyed the way the sheer girth of it stretched his hand. Full of anticipation, he began to roll his hips and hum through bitten lips.
Aziraphale began to breathe in and out slowly through puffed cheeks, enjoying the pressure. When he was ready, he looked back at Crowley and gave him a wink to signal him to stop stroking. He leaned over his demon, reaching down between them with his well maintained, lubed up hand to trace his lubricant finger over Crowley‘s tight entrance before finally pressing it inside.
Crowley wanted him so badly. His brows furrowed and his jaw dropped open with a puffed out sigh.
“So tight … Mmm,” Aziraphale said as he slipped another finger in and flexed it to stroke along Crowley’s inner walls. He felt the sweet, tender bundle of nerves and went to work, tracing it with one finger as he milked it.
A jolt shot through Crowley as he stiffened; he sucked in air sharply and mouthed wordlessly. His body clamped down on Aziraphale’s fingers while his hand went from holding the angel’s cock to clawing at the bed.
“There we are. Breathe, dear. You’re doing beautifully,” said Aziraphale, withdrawing his fingers. He could feel Crowley begin to relax. “Oh,there… That’s it,” he whispered. Shifting on his feet, helined his length up with Crowley’s entrance and pushed inside. Unable to go past about an inch in, he paused to let Crowley adjust. Aziraphale was much larger than the average cucumber.
Crowley gasped, and his breathing halted as he felt the soreness of a stretch that felt so good. His mind went a little hazy, but Aziraphale brought him back to clarity when he pressed their foreheads together.
Aziraphale felt the sweat on his brow and gave him a gentle nose nudge. “Just breathe, dear…” he whispered, and peppered Crowley’s face with kisses as he continued. “You’re quite stunning and you’re doing so well. Just like I knew you would,” he said reassuringly.
Hearing his voice was like a salve, helping Crowley to relax more.
Once Aziraphale felt him loosen up, he pushed in deeper, letting Crowley acclimate once again. He repeated the process, as pleased grunts and sighs were released along the way, until he was deliciously balls deep inside Crowley’s divinely sinful heat.
Crowley’s body jerked again as the electricity coursed through him, and his eyes began to seemingly glow. Having Aziraphale pressed up against that sweet spot again made his eyes water. “Gah… Ang– Fu—” He sputtered out as he began to rut against him.
It felt so good to Aziraphale that he wanted to give in and just fuck him, but he started this with a plan in mind and he was bent on sticking to it. “Oh– Oh—! You like it when I fill you, don’t you? You really are such a good fiend,” he said as he ground down into Crowley.
“Oh, Fuck you!” Crowley hissed, tipping his head back just enough to break forehead contact in order to flick his tongue and bite his lips. Secretly, he liked when Aziraphale called him ‘good’, but could never admit it because it was the very opposite of everything he was supposed to be. His body trembled, enjoying the feeling of being stuffed and the way Aziraphale’s platinum bushtickled his taint and balls. He needily kicked his legs.
“Next time, dear,” Aziraphale retorted with a cheeky little grin as he eased up on his thrusts to prepare for his next move.
Crowley tried to resist beaming, but he couldn’t help it upon hearing Aziraphale was already thinking about their next fun time. He reached up to play with Aziraphale’s hair with his free hand.
After seeing him smile, Aziraphale moved forward with his plan. He pulled out and thrust in slowly. His body buzzed at the friction. After seeing how smoothly that went, he held steady, fully immersed in Crowley as he took hold of the cucumber and began pumping again as he touched their foreheads back together.
With his hand finally free of the produce, Crowley gripped Aziraphale’s arms tight. “Angel… Oh, fuck! Az– Ange—” Crowley cried out and one of his eyes twitched closed and he started to pant.
Aziraphale kissed his open mouth and began thrusting into him again. The pacing was awkward at first, but it didn’t take long for him to figure out the perfect rhythm between his hips and his hand, alternating thrusts. His balls drummed a beat on Crowley’s arse as he went along, starting slowly and gradually picking up the pace.
The room was filled with the sound of the bed thumping against the wall. Labored breathing, excited mutterings and grunting moans resounded as they locked eyes, and spilling hot precume as they edged closer to ecstasy.
Crowley whined and undulated his hip against him. His whole body twitched and stiffened and his toes curled. He was finally about to come. “I-I— ya… Mmm… Fu-fu-fu-fu— Ang— Ah—” he stammered as his breath caught and his vision blurred into a grey haze.
Aziraphale felt a flash of pain as Crowley’s nails dug in and scratched his arms, and he let out a small growl. He didn’t mind it, though. He could feel Crowley’s muscles tightly spasming around him, and held his position deep inside him as Crowley finished.
Crowley grunted as he erupted like a volcano, spilling so hard that the cucumber was nearly bursting apart. The makeshift fleshlight overflowed and ran down his shaft.
Aziraphale finished pumping and released the cucumber which fell against the demon’s stomach with him still partially inside. Aziraphale looked down and took in how gorgeous his demon was all tender and purring like a kitten. It didn’t take long for him to feel Crowley’s body relax around his shaft.
Being celestial had its advantages in this regard. Refractory periods were nil unless he and Crowley wanted them to be.
Crowley was on cloud nine as he looked up at his angel. “That was … gloriousss…” he said with a sultry rasp and sighed. He slid his legs down off of Aziraphale’s shoulders, spreading them outward, and the cucumber promptly rolled off of him and onto the bed. “Now I-I want to have my legs wrapped around your waist when you finish filling me,” he said with pleading eyes.
Aziraphale leaned back, moving his arms so that Crowley could comfortably reposition himself. When he was finished, he squeezed them around Aziraphale’s waist and gave his hips a slow upward grind.
Letting his eyes dance over Aziraphale’s meaty flesh, he noticed the nail marks he had made earlier and got worried. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
Aziraphale chuckled. “I’m not.”
Crowley still felt a little bad, but knowing his angel was fine made him feel better, so he continued to look his angel over and enjoyed the less obstructed view. He ran his hands over Aziraphale’s torso and felt the firm muscles flex underneath the soft flesh, and sank his fingers into it. He squeezed and massaged as he went along, then leaned up more to slip them behind Aziraphale’s body and grab his round rump. He gave it a cheeky pinch, and Aziraphale’s posterior muscles tightened. He sucked in air through his teeth and smirked back at Crowley.
Crowley hugged him, pulling him down as he leaned back against the bed. “You need to finish what you started,” he beckoned.
Aziraphale planted his arms on each side of the fiend. Unable to hold back, he started thrusting again. He got under way slowly, making sure Crowley was still comfortable before picking up the pace. Breathing heavily through pursed lips, his eyes fluttered in pleasure. “Feel so good…” he grunted.
The pounding felt incredible to Crowley. “Oh, fuck, Angel… you bastard! You’re too fucking good to me. Now run me through! I want to feel it,” He whined with watery eyes.
Then Aziraphale drove it home, feeling the heat coursing through his body as he got closer to the precipice. His thrusts became more erratic; his legs began to tremble and his growls became more beastly than before.
Crowley wanted to help and ground up into the thrusts, spearing himself while he rubbed soothing circles into Aziraphale’s shoulders. “Mmm… Oh!” He kissed Aziraphale’s face as he felt his angel quake and stiffen above him.
“Oh my God! Oh dear! Crowl— Cro— Rrrah! Fuck!” Aziraphale yelled out. His breath caught, and he explosively emptied his seed into Crowley in a rapturous ending before collapsing into Crowley‘s arms. Their chests heaved as they panted together.
Crowley chuckled, smiling wide, always pleased to be the cause for his angel to use the Lord’s name in vain especially when it’s accompanied by a naughty swear word. He slapped his angel’s backside in a playful manner. “That was glorious fun,” he said in awe.
Aziraphale rolled off of Crowley, laying next to him on the bed as he twitched. “And that, my dear Crowley, is how you use a cucumber,” he rasped.
The two of them lay there bursting with laughter at their latest amorous endeavor. After they cooled off, they wound up holding each other again, cracking jokes and talking the night away as the glow of the lamps seemed to dissipate into the light of dawn.
