Open To Anyone For Anything RP Post 2

[questionablewit]

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[sohoangel]

Aziraphale lets out a soft groan as Crowley utterly ruins his plans and greedily continues to kiss him, but he can't find it in himself to be annoyed. Not when Crowley is pressing his mouth so tenderly above the line of his collar. "You... oh. Oh, Crowley..."

Of course, he's not about to let his newfound confidence fizzle out. Not when desire is so thoroughly stirred up within him. He lets go of Crowley's hand so that it can join the one underneath his jacket, and this time he lets both explore with impunity, running down Crowley's spine and along his sides, tracing out all those delightfully sharp, narrow lines. And if he finds a particularly sensitive or ticklish spot, well, the demon only has himself to blame.

[duckshaveears]

If Crowley's hands are free, he can use them to take his jacket off. That's a good plan. He hisses a little as Aziraphale finds a sensitive spot down the side of his ribs, something not-quite-ticklish, and distraction from that means he bites at Aziraphale's neck instead of kissing. Whoops. But then biting seems a good plan too, so a few more of those, just small little nibbles...the angel has to understand that need, given how much he likes tasting things...

And once his jacket's off his hands are free again, to do things like undo fiddly waistcoat buttons, but at that point Crowley stops. He might actually be blushing. "This--" He nods his head towards the waistcoat. "...can I?"

...yes, it's ridiculous, but he's been wanting that waistcoat our of the way for centuries, bless it. Aziraphale not in the waistcoat has become the equivalent of other people looking at their partners in lingerie.

[sohoangel]

There's a sharp gasp at the accidental bite, but all is forgiven as Crowley continues nibbling at the soft skin of his neck. It's not enough to hurt, but the angel's skin is so sensitive; it blooms pink with every little nip. It makes him forget to exploit that spot on Crowley's ribs, simply holding onto the demon while he makes a soft sound of approval.

He's vaguely aware of Crowley removing his jacket and then going for the waistcoat buttons. When Crowley stops and asks permission, he blinks out of his haze and looks at him in mild surprise. Not because he asked, but because of the blushing. What has Crowley so bashful? It's just his waistcoat. His favorite waistcoat, yes, but he trusts Crowley with the buttons.

It's rather endearing, whatever the cause. "Sweet boy." He kisses the color on Crowley's cheeks, hands sliding onto his back and rubbing lazy circles there. "Of course you can."

[duckshaveears]

Crowley growls a little. "Shut it. 'm not either of those." Sweet or a boy, he means. Though he is flushing a bit more from that kiss on the cheek, the warmth of hands stroking at his back.

He looks down at the waistcoat, watches himself undo the buttons, black fingernails pushing cloth-covered circles through buttonholes. Aziraphale will never understand just how significant that is for him, he's sure, never. Second only to removing the tartan bowtie. Stuffy buttoned-up angel, finally letting himself be loosened and vulnerable and approachable and oh Christ, now every button's undone and Crowley can slide the waistcoat off entirely and he makes a small mewling sort of noise as he steals another kiss, lapping at Aziraphale's mouth with his tongue.

[sohoangel]

He holds Crowley a little tighter, though not enough to interfere with waistcoat removal. "Precious demon, then," he says, with another kiss to his cheek. "Lovely occult being. Dearest. Dearheart." He's not about to ease up on the compliments just because Crowley growls about it. In fact, that little growl might have only spurred him on.

Perhaps Aziraphale understands the significance, just a little, because once his waistcoat has joined Crowley's jacket, he reaches up and undoes his bowtie, all on his own. If Crowley can let his guard down with such soft, needy noises, he can do the same.

He returns the kiss, lips parting, then moves his mouth to Crowley's jawline, up to his ear, finally returning what has been so sweetly given to him, gentle nips and soothing licks, his hands wandering up and down Crowley's back, tugging absently at the fabric of his shirt.

[duckshaveears]

Crowley might snort at the first two, not unamused by this retort, but his breath catches noticeably at dearest, and dearheart earns a slight whimper. Aziraphale undoing his bowtie earns another. Aziraphale's lips brushing along his face and earlobe causes a sound that can only be described as a moan.

Oh well. He knew as soon as he agreed to go out for karaoke that his dignity was going to be an inevitable sacrifice to the evening, and this is the best possible way for it to die. Buried under angelic kisses and endearments.

Crowley turns his head and this time the kiss he steals is openly needy, hungry, back to the way they were downstairs. He pushes Aziraphale back down on the bed and follows after, leaning over him, one hand cradling the angel's face as he takes kiss after kiss after kiss, or gives them, or both.

[sohoangel]

He can't help but smile, lips curving up against the shell of Crowley's ear, in response to all the lovely sounds that his demon makes. "My love," he murmurs throatily, before Crowley captures his mouth and silences his litany of verbal affection. Oh, it feels so good to call him such things, to kiss him back just as hungrily, to no longer deny the love he has for Crowley, fit to overflowing.

There is only a soft note of surprise when he's tipped back onto the bed. In another context, a demon looming over an angel would be considered threatening, but Aziraphale feels as safe as he's ever been, the comfortable mattress below him and Crowley cradling his face while they exchange kisses. Distantly, he congratulates himself on suggesting the change of venue as he tries to emulate Crowley's position from earlier. A leg hooks around the demon's and his hands tug more purposefully on Crowley's shirt, trying to untuck it from his pants.

"May I?" he asks breathlessly between kisses. Caught up in the pleasure of Crowley's mouth, he hadn't thought to ask initially, but Crowley did, so he assumes he should as well.

[duckshaveears]

"Ngk," is the only answer to that 'my love', but it's a fervent one. Just as fervent as the "God, yes, anything," response when Aziraphale pulls on Crowley's shirt. He's pretty sure it's wanting permission to undress him, but honestly it doesn't matter. Whatever Aziraphale is asking, the answer is yes.

Crowley pulls up for a minute, helping to pull the relevant garments off. Shirt and his own waistcoat all at once, and he tugs off the small scarf thing and the chain while he's at it, flinging the lot off somewhere to the side. Normally he's more neat, but at this moment neatness is so very, very unimportant. Especially in comparison to kissing Aziraphale some more, and starting to undo his shirt buttons, because now that Crowley is half-naked all he can think about is getting Aziraphale into the same state.

[sohoangel]

Despite asking, he's not much help as Crowley essentially strips his upper half in one go. In truth, he only wanted access to Crowley's skin, but this! This is good. This so good. He rests his hands on Crowley's newly bared waist and looks up at him with a dopey expression on his face. "Good Lord, you are beautiful, darling."

He could go on, but Crowley is kissing him again, and there is all that naked torso to explore, which he does. Liberally. His hands slide and stroke, relearning how all those lines and edges feel without fabric in the way. It's so blessedly wonderful that it takes him a while to notice his own shirt buttons being undone. It causes him on a moment of uncertainty -- oh, but Crowley has already told him how much he loves his softness. His hands resume their unabashed exploration.

[duckshaveears]

Crowley may have made a terrible, terrible, wonderful mistake, because now that he has Aziraphale's hands all over his skin he's never going to be able to think straight again. His fingers keep slipping off the buttons on Aziraphale's shirt as he arches into all that touch, warm and caressing and fuck, he almost wants to purr, but he wants at Aziraphale's skin to return the distraction much, much, more.

Four buttons done is enough to let him kiss Aziraphale's upper chest, and from then on every button undone earns a kiss to follow, as he travels lower on Aziraphale's stomach. There is no question given the reverence in his lips, the low pleased sounds he makes, that he absolutely loves what he finds, all that smoothness and softness and Aziraphale. Once he gotten down to the belly button he surges back up, catches Aziraphale's mouth in an urgent kiss, puts his hands on the angel's hips and rolls them over on the bed.

Back to the position they were in downstairs, but fuck, this is better. There's a soft mattress under him and a soft angel above him and they're skin to skin, chest to chest, hands everywhere, and Crowley groans. "You are perfect," he whispers into Aziraphale's mouth. "You, you're--fuck, angel, you're everything--"

[sohoangel]

Aziraphale continues to map out the beauty of Crowley's torso until he's undone by those precious, reverent kisses to his chest. He shuts his eyes, holding back a sudden well of tears at how tender it is. This is love, it's all he feels with each bit of himself exposed, no longer shy, but humbled by the depth and breadth of it.

He's rolled over without complaint, although his shivering returns, and if his wings were out, they'd be quaking hard enough to shed feathers. It's nearly too much, the press of all that skin together, and, oh, it is perfect. He moans helplessly at Crowley's words, swept up in the pleasure of it.

"It feels so good," he whimpers, kissing back haphazardly, his hands sliding into Crowley's hair and holding fast. "I swear, Crowley, I never knew it could feel like this --"

[duckshaveears]

"Me neither," Crowley rasps. "Thought--hoped it would, thought about it all the bloody time, but--"

This babbling is interrupted by a sudden groan, his whole body shuddering as Aziraphale grips his hair, fingers tangling and holding and, intentionally or not, pulling a little. "Oh, oh fuck, do that again, with the hair--" His body lifts under Aziraphale's, and they're going to need to do something about that, about, about the clothes and the things that go under the clothes, but there's fingers in his hair and Aziraphale's breath in his mouth and it is so hard to think right now.

[sohoangel]

Aziraphale makes a sound of questioning surprise when Crowley bucks against him, but all is revealed to him soon enough. That request -- in that voice -- following that groan -- well, honestly, how can he possibly refuse?

One hand grips tighter in his hair, pulling experimentally, just short of actual pain. The other he places flat on the bed to give him enough leverage to push up and watch Crowley's reaction. It must be important to demand something that specific, he wants to see what effect it has on Crowley. Dimly, he's also aware of the clothes between them, as well as the fact that he hasn't bothered to shrug out of his shirt yet, but this is far more important.

[duckshaveears]

Something else that was revealed during that unintentional buck: one of them, at least, already has something under his clothes, and it's already hard and insistent and demanding attention. It's a visible thing now as well as something that can be felt, for all that Crowley's jeans are still in the way.

But for now he groans again, a blatantly needy noise, as the fingers tugging on his hair send spikes of fire racing through him. Go--Sa--Fuck but it feels good, it feels amazing, and when he thinks of combining it with other things..."Angel--" He reaches back up, pulls Aziraphale's mouth back down, tugs a little on those curls to see if Aziraphale will react the same way.

[sohoangel]

Aziraphale watches, delighted, whatever worry he might have had about the tightness of his grip vanishing in the wake of Crowley's needy groan. He lets out a quiet oof when he's pulled back down to Crowley's mouth, quickly followed by a groan of his own when his his curls are tugged.

"Naughty," he murmurs, and gives Crowley's hair another sharp pull, the same as before. This time, he keeps the demon's head tilted back so that he can suck a love bite onto his exposed neck -- or tries to, anyway. He's never done this before, and the novels he's read aren't very specific about the mechanics...

As he presses his weight against Crowley to keep him still, he finally becomes aware of the demon's hardness pressing into him. Oh, that's not his hipbone, is it? Sweat prickles down his back, his open shirt suddenly much more of annoyance. A quick gesture with the hand not in Crowley's hair and he miracles it away. Good riddance.

"Crowley," he whispers into his ear. "Should I -- Is this a good time for me to make an Effort?"

[duckshaveears]

"You knew that," Crowley retorts, though it breaks off into another raw, needy sound as Aziraphale pulls his head back and sucks on his mouth, fucking Christ that feels better than it has any business doing...Crowley's had that done to him before back in the day, but it did not feel like this, it did not inspire anything like this sort of reaction--

It takes a good deal of effort to draw his attention back to words, to make sense of what Aziraphale is saying. "Ngh?" he manages. Realizing this is unhelpful, he tries again. "Yeah, might--might be handy--'f you want--don't have to, 'm good--"

Honestly if Aziraphale doesn't want to and just wants to use hands and mouth, Crowley will be more than fine with that option, provided they don't have to stop. Especially since that shirt is gone and it's suddenly much easier to run hands all over Aziraphale's back, tease nails down the spine, pull him in and suck on his neck in return to see how he likes it.

[sohoangel]

One way or another, the angel gets a handle on his technique. He pulls back a moment to admire his handiwork before kissing the spot soothingly. "Beautiful," he murmurs against his skin. "You're so beautiful." All of him, he means, as his mouth travels down his neck, along his collarbone, nipping and licking wherever he fancies. Crowley is a temptation merely by existing, but his body, the sounds he make, they feed into his desire and entwine with his feelings of love until it's all the same.

Which is why, when Crowley stutters out his mangled reply, he also wonders if it's necessary. He has all he wants right here. He feels his own passion burning bright when Crowley runs nails down his spine, when his own skin is sucked hard, a sharp snap that has him moaning, not only in pleasure but at the implication that Crowley is leaving evidence of their love-making.

But Crowley feels so good beneath him, so urgent and needy. He wants to experience that, too. "I-- I'd like --" he gasps, squirming a little as Crowley has his way with him. "--to know what it's like for you."

Of course, he'll need to be able to concentrate to do so. So perhaps not quite at this particular moment.

[duckshaveears]

"--right," Crowley croaks, trying to rein himself in a little, which is difficult when Aziraphale's been mouthing all over his chest and calling him beautiful. Not a word that would have affected him much from anyone else, but this is Aziraphale. "Right, should--we should talk about that." Because they should, this is important, and yeah he's eager but he can wait a few minutes. Aziraphale isn't going anywhere and Crowley will keep hands firmly on him to make sure of that.

So he rests his hands on the angel's waist, touches their foreheads together, catches his breath for a minute. "Right," he manages again. "Let's...let me get the run of things, here. You've never manifested anything at all, there? Either way?" Male or female parts, he means.

[sohoangel]

Oh, they're going to talk about this now. Aziraphale pushes himself up on his elbows, hands splayed against Crowley's shoulders so he can look down at him with wide, attentive eyes. He smiles without meaning to, so ridiculously besotted that Crowley is taking the time to ask. "I've manifested male genitalia before. Back when public bathing was popular and it would have led to too many questions if I didn't. Oh, and occasionally while wearing certain styles of trousers, they don't fall right otherwise."

He blushes and swallows. The love bite on his neck has blossomed quite nicely. "I was never... ah, aroused, while having one. I'm curious what that's like, although if... if you prefer female genitalia, that wouldn't be any trouble for me, either."

[duckshaveears]

The longer they wait to talk about this, the harder it will be, for multiple meanings of the phrase. Better to do it now while there's still some change of Crowley being capable of rational thought, as much as he can be with Aziraphale (Aziraphale! Without a shirt!) leaning over him and beaming down with unquestionable affection (ngk) while talking about cocks and bathing naked (NGK).

"...right." He's saying that a lot. More words needed. The sooner he can words, the sooner they can go back to kissing, and other things. "Right. Cock is probably easiest then, you've had one before and they're not hard to figure out. I'm happy with anything."

He stops again, takes a long halting breath, looks up more seriously. "You know that, yeah? I mean it. Whatever you want to try, or not try, I'm fine with it. Cock or cunt or both or neither, on either of us, anything. If you want me to change what I'm sporting, I will. Just say the word. I haven't got a preference, I just want you. Whatever you'll give me. "

[sohoangel]

Aziraphale listens patiently, giving Crowley a chance to answer him, and then answer him again with even more reassurance. It warms his heart, this acceptance of Aziraphale's inexperience with basic anatomy, and it excites him, too. There's so much that they can try, so many ways they can fit together. And at the core of it, wanting only one another.

Leaning back down, he kisses Crowley softly, out of love and gratitude.

"I'll go with what I'm used to, then," he replies after a moment's thought. "And you keep what you have, darling, I quite like the way it feels against me."

[duckshaveears]

"Yeah?" Crowley's grin is pleased but also thoroughly wicked, and he squeezes his hands where they're still resting on Aziraphale's hips. "Hurry up then, so we can get back more pressing matters."

He raises his hips and tiwsts a little, so he can press against Aziraphale's thigh. Innuendo intended, of course. All the innuendos intended.

[sohoangel]

It's a terrible pun, but Aziraphale laughs anyway, at least until Crowley presses up against him, and then he makes a small, happy hum while pressing right back against him in return and wiggling his hips a little.

"Be patient," he fondly admonishes, after another quick kiss. "I need to concentrate." Although, once he decides to manifest genitalia, it isn't nearly as effortful as all that. He's done it before on multiple occasions, after all.

This is not like those other occasions.

For one thing, he's fully aroused immediately, his corporation taking into account his emotional state without him realizing. For another, he's pressed right up into Crowley's denim-clad thigh, and the contact sends him into a deep shivering paroxysm of pleasure. He whines like a teakettle about to boil over and hides his face in Crowley's neck, hands clutching at the demon's narrow hips so nobody has the bright idea of moving or else he will not survive it.

"I--" He swallows and gasps. "J-just need a moment."

[duckshaveears]

Honestly, Crowley needs a moment too. First there's the pressure of Aziraphale's body in general, which is more than enough in its own right to be thrilling, and then suddenly there's more and it's hard and right there and Crowley swallows hard and doesn't move except to rest his head against the angel's. "S'okay," he says thickly. "'m not going anywhere. Take your time."

He doesn't really remember what it was like having a hard-on for the first time, it's much, much too long ago. But he can make some educated guesses.

[sohoangel]

There's about half a minute in which there are nothing but deep, slow breaths coming from the angel, face tucked out of sight in the crook of Crowley's neck. He hadn't expected it to be quite so intense, all his desire suddenly focused on a single region of his body, one that hadn't existed mere moments before.

It feels so good, but it aches, too, like whatever he's experiencing is only the tip (ha) of the iceberg, and he needs more of it.

Eventually, he carefully lifts his upper half to look at Crowley, his eyes bright and his fluffy curls matted down with a bit of sweat. "Goodness," he breathes. "How do humans go about like this without exploding?" He feels Crowley beneath him and flushes. "How do you not explode? Especially in those trousers of yours."