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“This is just gorgeous, Angel. Simply gorgeous.” Crowley still couldn’t believe the sight before his eyes. “It just gets better and better each time we come here.”
“That it is, my dear boy. And it is all yours now. I can’t wait to see how much more beautiful it becomes under your skillful care. I imagine we will make many pleasant memories here.” He took a step closer to Crowley and put an arm around him. “I love how happy this makes you,” he said softly.
Crowley turned to him and smiled. He gave Aziraphale a big silly kiss. “I love how happy you make me, Angel. This is just the cherry on top.”
They stood side by side and surveyed the gardens surrounding their new cottage in the South Downs. They had just signed the papers that morning, making the cottage officially theirs. When they had first come across it, it was still early Spring and the space was just waking up. Subsequent visits began to show them the full glory and potential of the gardens. Crowley would turn giddy - though no one would believe you if you told them as demons don’t do giddy - every time they stepped outside and surveyed the vast number of beds, vegetation, the groves of trees, and the surrounding rolling grasslands. It was truly Heaven on Earth for both of them.
“I’m going to let everything keep growing as is this year just to see what we’ve got going on so I know how I want to move forward for next year.” Crowley stood with his hands on his hips, expertly surveying everything around him. It was a rather cool day for July, especially since the skies were heavy and gray, the promises of a good storm gathering at the horizon. Crowley sniffed the air. He loved the smell of impending rainstorms.
“Can you imagine what it will be like out here next July? Just flowers and herbs and tons of fruits and vegetables. All of it, just exploding out here,” Crowley said, waving his arms around. “Think we need some benches, ‘specially under the trees. We’ll do that porch up nice, expand it. I want to get a fuck load of porch furniture. And a fire pit. And a picnic table or two. It’s going to be a beautiful place to work and to relax. We’d have a bunch of happy bees, and butterflies, and birds, and snakes, and snails, and….oh,” he sighed.
Aziraphale smiled warmly. Crowley tended to chatter and ramble when he got excited - something that Aziraphale found utterly delightful. He sighed contentedly at his charming lover.
“Oi! We can fuck out here as much as we want, Angel. No one for miles to see us!”
"Ah, yes, charming." Aziraphale chuckled. “We certainly can, my dear.” Truthfully, he would prefer to be taken right now, but Crowley was still distracted by his backyard dreams. “I imagine us by this time in July of next year just lounging outside, eating good food, not a responsibility or a care in the world.”
“Absolutely, Angel. Just the two of us.” He smiled and squeezed Aziraphale’s hand. They continued to walk around, hand in hand. The breeze picked up and the first fat drops of rain began to fall.
Aziraphale manifested an umbrella, tartan of course, and held it over both of them. Crowley thought of how Aziraphale has always been his shelter in some way or another. The thought nearly brought a bit of tear to his eye. He turned and planted a long, slow kiss on Aziraphale’s lips. The sound of raindrops on the umbrella grew more hurried and eager and soon they stood in the middle of the garden among a heavy downpour, neither willing to break from the kiss yet. Wet shoes be damned. There was a flash of lightning and a few gentle rolls of thunder to answer it as the breeze became a gust and the heavy rain slanted toward them.
Crowley laughed wildly. “Don’t think that umbrella is doing much good now, Angel.”
“Do you suppose we should head inside?,” Aziraphale asked, noting how wet the bottoms of his trousers had become. His waistcoat was getting a bit wet as well.
“Oh come on, Angel! Have a bit of fun." He ducked out from under the umbrella. “Let your hair down.”
Aziraphale looked at Crowley for a moment. His fiery hair that had been perfectly coiffed with each strand too scared to move from its place was now becoming undone in the rain, wavy tendrils beginning to fall over his forehead. The angel took in a deep breath and pressed his tongue to the back of his teeth, trying to hold onto any molecule of self-control he had left. Wet Crowley was something special. Hot. Sexy. Tempting as fuck. Aziraphale was no match for him. He thought he’d just look like a shaggy wet mop. He regarded the yellow eyes, raindrops stuck to their lashes, staring at him. Oh fuck, he could be silly in the rain.
“One moment. I do have some standards.” He snapped and his waistcoat was gone, finding itself safely draped on top of a window sill inside. He closed the umbrella and leaned it up against the stone of a raised garden bed. Rain pelted his head and he felt his hair quickly become soaked and stuck to his forehead.
Crowley’s face lit up. “There we go, Angel. Gah, you take my breath away.” Aziraphale stood before him in shirtsleeves and braces, his favorite combination. The fabric quickly became soaked, revealing the vest under it and, most importantly, the silvery white hairs poking from the neckline. The angel’s soaked clothes clung to him, marking every luscious and supple curve and filling Crowley with hunger. The hunger was not helped by the increasingly obvious outline of Aziraphale’s cock through his pants. One could always notice it on a normal day, but the wet fabric made it so much more obvious and tempting. Crowley needed Aziraphale. If he was honest, there were things about this cottage that made him feel very confusing emotions and he felt the need to connect with Aziraphale in all manner of ways for comfort. First, he needed to distract himself from those small bubbles of feelings welling up. He darted away, weaving through garden beds.
“Crowley!” Aziraphale chased after him. The demon was like a puppy off a leash, frolicking in the rain. Don’t tell him that, though. He caught up to Crowley, laughing and out of breath. Crowley was standing in a patch of clover, on the other side of a puddle that had formed. Aziraphale saw the glint in an amber eye and thought, oh, fuck! He knew what was about to come.
“Crowley….” he warned.
“Wot?” He smiled.
Aziraphale sighed. “If you must.”
Crowley cackled. In one quick moment he jumped and came down into the puddle, splashing muddy water all over them. “Come on, Angel. Just one little jump.”
Aziraphale hesitated and then…what the fuck, why not? He’d miracle his century-old shoes warm and dry later. With a flourish, he jumped into the puddle, splashing as much onto his laughing demon as possible. It felt nice to let loose for a moment.
“Yes!” Crowley laughed. He pulled Aziraphale by the hand and beckoned him to chase him. They ran around the gardens in their impromptu game of tag, each dipping the other backward for an enthusiastic kiss when they were caught. They were right and fully soaked. The rain wasn’t letting up and the wind brought more lightning and thunder along with it. Crowley felt energized by it all - the lightning, the rain, the playfulness with his angel.
Eventually, they were breathless and no match for the deluge and darkening skies as the stormy evening commenced. Crowley kissed Aziraphale deeply before leading him to a door. They stepped into a small bootroom off the kitchen, dripping rainwater everywhere. “Gonna take a bit of magic to get cleaned and dried today,” Crowley said.
“Not yet,” Aziraphale answered. He took his shoes off and walked into the kitchen.
Crowley laughed and took his boots off. “Don’t know that taking our shoes off makes much difference. You’re tracking soggy angel prints everywhere."
They found themselves in what was to become their sitting room - a large room with big windows and an exquisite, centuries-old inglenook fireplace that took over the expanse of one entire wall. Like every room in the cottage, this one was completely empty, waiting for them to finally settle on colors and furniture.
“We should probably dry our clothes,” Aziraphale said shyly. “Might be best to take them off.”
“Oh? No snappy snappy or wave of the hands? Are you asking me to strip naked?” He put his hand to his chest in mock surprise. “Oh, Angel, what sort of lady do you take me for?”
“The sort of lady I’d like to take.” He made quite a show of snapping his fingers and waving his hands, manifesting a drying rack in front of the fireplace. “Fire is your domain.”
Crowley brought a roaring fire to life inside the inglenook, thankful that the unseasonably cool weather and the rainstorm had left the cottage feeling a bit chilly. Perfect for a fire in July. “Well, then,” he stepped closer to Aziraphale, “take me.”
Aziraphale shivered - not from the damp clothes. Thick blankets appeared on the floor. Black and red tartan, a nod to his demon. He slowly began to undress Crowley, taking his time to admire each bit of flesh that was revealed to him. His hands trembled on Crowley’s waistband as he undid his snake belt and unfastened the trousers, pulling them down over his hips - a venture made slightly more difficult between the combo of wet skin and tight fabric. Once he was fully nude, Aziraphale admired Crowley in firelight, the wetness of his skin glistening.
Crowley kissed Aziraphale as he undid his bowtie and the first few buttons of his shirt. He kissed along his neck, down his chest, over his vest, following each undone button. He made quick work of the vest and the trousers. He came to the socks and garters. They were soaked.
“I’ll be a merciful demon since these are so wet.” He undid the garters and pulled the socks off. Aziraphale did have the cutest toes, which he bent over to kiss, so Crowley won either way. Clothes were officially hung on the drying rack and two nude beings regarded each other.
“You are stunning, Aziraphale. I’ll never stop telling you how beautiful you are.” Crowley knelt in front of him and looked up. The angel glowed like the firelight illuminating his body.
Aziraphale knelt down with him, taking Crowley’s face in his hands and kissing him desperately. He was caught between wanting to slowly worship the demon’s body and his intense desire to consume him greedily and quickly. He chose the former, gently laying Crowley down. His lips and tongue traveled all over Crowley, pricking gooseflesh and bringing satisfied sighs out of him. Crowley’s moans filled the room when Aziraphale engulfed his cock with his mouth, sliding up and down the shaft while fingers teased his taint, pressing against a very sensitive spot.
“Angel, yesss,” Crowley hissed, slowly bucking his hips towards Aziraphale’s face. When Aziraphale was done with the cock service, Crowley rolled him over to return the favor. He took a very long time to work his kisses from the top of his head to his angelic toes, stopping several times to make a full meal of his thighs. When he finally brought the attention of his lips to Aziraphale’s cock, he took him in one long glide and swallowed him down his throat. Aziraphale tangled his fingers in Crowley’s wet hair, pulling at it and causing a pleasing sharp pain in his scalp. It made pre-cum drip out of him. When it was clear that further attentions would cause Aziraphale to cum, Crowley moved back up to meet his lips with his own, pushing his tongue in so Aziraphale could enjoy the taste of his own sweetly salted pre-cum. He ground his cock against Aziraphale’s, bringing forth sinful moans from an angelic mouth.
Crowley rolled them again, bringing Aziraphale back on top of him. Kisses grew more hungry. Crowley spread his legs and brought his knees up, leaving his heels to rest on Aziraphale’s back. Eyes met to exchange a silent conversation. Aziraphale kissed Crowley’s forehead and cheeks in response before a miracle brought lube to his hand.
“I love you so much, Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered.
“I love you, Angel.” Their eyes remained locked. Crowley let out a slow breath as he felt the tip of Aziraphale’s cock press up against him. It had been two months since he started bottoming, but he took a little bit longer to adjust to this process than Aziraphale. They often made a point to keep eye contact during this moment and tears eventually always came, no matter how raunchy they were feeling at the time. This moment was always sacred to them. Eyes wet, Crowley relaxed himself as best he could and let Aziraphale begin to inch his way in.
“Tell me if you need me to slow down or stop,” Aziraphale said softly.
“You’re doing good angel,” he kissed his lower lip, “thank you.” Some people might find check ins during sex to be a buzzkill. Crowley thought it was sexy as fuck. The care and concern from Aziraphale only turned him on more and it was something he needed in order to continue. Sometimes check ins were words. Other times, it was a touch or a look. In any case, they meant the world to Crowley. He stayed lost in Aziraphale’s starry night eyes, where he was always safe, breathing deep and yielding more of his body to him. Tears fell freely from his own eyes and a drop from Aziraphale hit his cheek once the angel was fully seated within him. They took a moment to breathe together, kissing slowly.
Aziraphale began moving gently, rolling his hips and keeping his thrusts small and shallow at first. When Crowley arched back and pressed his head to the floor, Aziraphale kissed and licked the long neck that was offered up to him. They moved together in their slow embrace, the angel allowing the demon to be his guide. He quickened when he felt graceful fingers dig into the flesh of his ass, driving him deeper inside and encouraging him to move faster. The room became filled with the echoes of their decadent moans coupling with the sounds of fire crackling and rain being whipped against the windows.
For Crowley, becoming submissive to Aziraphale and feeling him move so deep inside was his new Heaven. Crowley was loud as a top, but even louder when he bottomed and he relished the change in Aziraphale’s voice as well, now low and grumbling. Dominant. It drove him wild. He flipped them over, tightly squeezing his legs around the angel in hopes of staying connected. After a little bit of repositioning, Crowley sat up on Aziraphale, ready for a nice ride. He pressed his hands on Aziraphale’s chest, rolling perky pink nipples between his fingers, and began to bounce on his cock, his cries growing louder.
Aziraphale worked overtime to keep from losing himself at the sight of Crowley riding him. He ran his hands up his torso, returning the favor of playing with nipples. Crowley’s hair had dried into wild curls that framed his head and made it look like he was aflame in the firelight. His body was covered in a sheen of sweat, making him glow. He looked glorious and it took a few minutes for Aziraphale to remember to breathe. Crowley slowed on top of him, moving his hips in languid, teasing circles that threatened every ounce of resolve in Aziraphale. His moans grew deeper and more desperate as he held onto Crowley’s hips.
Crowley arched back, giving Aziraphale a show of his lithe torso. He braced his hands on the angel’s thighs, indulging in a bit of a grip to the flesh. He began to undulate his hips back and forth, back and forth, as slow as he could stand, knowing the combination of movement and the view would make Aziraphale short circuit.
“Crowley…god…god…hips…I…raining…my…oh…fuck.” Mission accomplished.
Crowley held onto Aziraphale’s hands for leverage and leaned back up to bounce on his cock again, alternating between that and grinding undulations. They were a sweaty mess of moans and cries. Crowley pulled Aziraphale’s shoulders, moving the angel into a more upright position so they could be face to face as he rode him into bliss.
The fire, lightning, and thunder were no match for the heated electricity that moved under their skin and through their bodies as their orgasms roared through them. Faces pressed together, they kissed their moans into one another on gasping breaths. Crowley held tightly to Aziraphale, his cum smeared against both of their bellies and chests. He nuzzled his face into Aziraphale's neck, leaving small kisses there before bringing his lips back to kiss him on the forehead.
“I love you so, so much, Aziraphale. I love you,” he panted.
Aziraphale gave him a sweet kiss. “I love you, my darling.” He kissed an ear lobe and then his sigil. “I adore you.”
They leaned their foreheads together and caught their breaths, giggling.
“Fuck, I’m hot.” Crowley said.
“You certainly are, dear boy.”
“I mean,” Crowley laughed, “the temperature in here is hot from the fire and the fucking.”
Aziraphale laughed with him. “We did make it rather warm.”
Crowley’s eyes glimmered. He dismounted from Aziraphale, kissed him, and stood up, smiling at the feeling of cum dripping onto his leg. He offered a hand to Aziraphale. “C’mon, let’s cool off.” He guided a giggling Aziraphale through the dark cottage to the back door off the kitchen.
After running around, splashing in puddles, and laughing, they stood, fully nude, hand in hand in the middle of the gardens while the storm continued to rage around them. There was no fear of the lightning or heavy wind. Neither would dare to move or harm Crowley or his lover.
“Absolutely chucking it down. I love it,” Crowley said.
“It’s rather refreshing.” Aziraphale leaned into him for a kiss. “I love that I know why you found kissing during a sudden rainstorm so appealing.” He kissed him some more.
After more play and a lot of kisses in the rain, they walked their naked butts back into the cottage, tracking wet footprints on the floor once again. A discussion about heading back to the bookshop in such dreadful weather took place. The Bentley would get them there safely, but that wasn’t nearly as fun as spending the night in front of a beautiful fire.
Crowley waved a hand to produce a bottle of champagne and a plate with a slice of cheesecake and two forks. “Little bit of a celebratory sip and nibble, Angel? For our new home?”
“Is that slice for me or you?” Aziraphale asked, sitting on their pile of blankets.
“Both of us. Two forks, see?” He held up both forks.
“That’s not what I mean, my dear, and you know it.” He raised his eyebrows.
“Oh, well…” Crowley blushed. Aziraphale had made it known a bit ago that he was well aware of how much the demon enjoyed watching him eat. They took turns feeding one another. Aziraphale playfully moaned around each bite. Crowley did a very poor job of hiding his growing erection.
“My my. Someone seems eager for a repeat performance.”
Crowley poured them each a glass of champagne. “A toast first.” He handed Aziraphale his glass and held his own up. “To us and to the South Downs,” he said.
“To us and to the South Downs,” Aziraphale repeated softly.
They spent the rest of the night cuddling together in front of the fireplace while the storm continued its dramatic performance. Conversations about their dreams for the cottage and small bicker sessions about paint colors were interrupted by kisses that eventually led to more lovemaking.
Their bodies and hearts were thoroughly sated as they whispered to one another about the joy of their new life together and all the ways their relationship continued to deepen and grow.