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For the ethereal and occult, in the grand scheme of things, one year transitioning to the next was fairly meaningless. Angels and demons kept time on a cosmic scale and most had no need for frivolous activities like New Year’s.
Of course, Aziraphale and Crowley were not most angels and demons, and they had participated in all manner of year-end festivities over the centuries.
Aziraphale had really enjoyed indulging in all of the various new year rites during his travels. In Rome, he had decorated his door with laurel wreaths and played dice and danced and sung. Crowley had taken him to a Wepet Renpet party back in old Egypt, wherein he had received a beautiful lentoid bottle that still lived on a shelf in the bookshop. He had spent one lovely, extravagant Rosh Ashana in 13th century Toledo feasting upon dates, squash, and leeks.
Nowadays, their celebrations were on the more casual and unfussy end; a nice dinner, usually, and later, a bottle or two of an excellent Blanc de Blanc Aziraphale had stashed away in the 80s. Crowley would sway unsteadily to Ella Fitzgerald in the living room, eventually convincing Aziraphale to join him in a wobbly dance that ended in a tangle of limbs on the sunken couch. The television was left on, dimly, in the background, as they wined and dined and laughed.
Tonight was no different, although there was a distinctive flavor of lust in the air that complimented the smell of mulling spice and leftover, warmed up gingerbread. Aziraphale wasn’t sure from whom it was coming off, but delighted in holding Crowley just a bit closer as he breathed it in and stroked his tangled red hair.
Crowley’s eyes were closed as he leaned into the touch, looking impossibly beautiful in the low light. He seemed to realize something, only half in his right mind, and clumsily reached for his champagne glass on the table.
“I’m afraid we’ve just about finished this bottle, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, moving the glass further away lest a long-fingered hand bring it crashing to the floor.
“Mm, well, get some more… you’ve got more, know y’do, Angel…” Crowley seemed to come slightly back to life, opening his gorgeously bright eyes to peer up at his partner. “Practically a hoarder, you are.”
“Oh, like you mind one bit.” Aziraphale pushed up his curls and kissed the demon’s perfect pale forehead. “But I had something else in mind, actually.”
Crowley sat up, but did nothing to disentangle himself from Aziraphale’s touch. “No more booze?” He pouted, just a little.
“There will be time for that later, not to worry, my dear. I simply thought we might try something tonight… if you’re interested, that is.” He put on that coy look that screamed mischief, and Crowley raised an eyebrow.
“Here, come sit,” he cooed, scooping Crowley up into his lap as if he weighed nothing more than a feather in the wind. Crowley let himself be manhandled and positioned on top of his comfortable thighs, angelic body heat so strong it could be felt radiating through Aziraphale’s trousers. Aziraphale rather liked how Crowley’s body melted into his when he was picked up, and he especially enjoyed the growing arousal he could feel from the slight quiver in Crowley’s legs.
“You’re ridiculous, angel, you kn- nmm-” Any snarky demonic comeback was swiftly cut off as Aziraphale placed his warm palm inbetween Crowley’s legs, applying gentle but firm pressure to his silly snake. He found where Crowley’s clit was beginning to harden through his pants (no underthings to be found, the naughty demon) and rubbed a small circle with his thumb. “Okay?”
“Yeah, very- guhnm, ah- very okay, Angel,” Crowley panted, attempting to buck his hips into Aziraphale’s hand. The angel held him fast with his left arm across his flat little tummy. He tutted and the hand on Crowley’s crotch stilled its motions.
“Not yet, my dear, do be patient.” Crowley scoffed, but obeyed, a slight twitch in his legs as he held himself back. Aziraphale worked his hand underneath Crowley’s tight black turtleneck, the one that clung deliciously to his frame. He splayed his palm against his belly and felt the barest brush of hair that trailed from Crowley’s cosmetic belly button to his waistband. He’d get to that in a minute, but he needed to properly tease Crowley first.
“Your hands… s’warm, Angel, feels good, keep doing that, mm,” Crowley mewled, his snake tendencies especially receptive to the outpouring of pure heat coming from the angel. Aziraphale took that as encouragement to continue his ministrations up and down Crowley’s bony sides, and eventually was able to reach his chest, the turtleneck riding up in the process. He rubbed a tight nipple, tentatively, just once, waiting for the inevitable reaction.
“Ngk-” Crowley squeaked, desperately trying to keep his hips from jumping back into Aziraphale’s palm. Aziraphale had discovered during one of the first trysts that the demon’s nipples were quite sensitive to being touched, pulled, and licked. He had exploited this quirk on several occasions, including one memorable time with the help of some ice cubes and his tongue. Aziraphale felt it harden under his touch as he squeezed slightly and used two fingers to pinch.
“No fair, ‘Ziraphale, that’s- that’s cheating-” Crowley’s head fell back and he let out a hot pant of pleasure onto Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Can’t hold on like this, need more.”
“Tsk, that’s no way to ask politely.” Aziraphale frowned and abruptly stopped his movement again, causing a groan of frustration from the demon on top of him. They had started this little game ages ago, and although neither had really understood why it felt so nice for Aziraphale to be stern with Crowley, the slightly demanding language had snuck its way into several roleplays. “Try again, dear.”
Crowley groaned and grimaced, as much as he could with his face buried in the crook of Aziraphale’s neck. “Angel…”
He nuzzled another kiss against Crowley’s hair, because even though it was obviously all theatrics, Aziraphale didn’t actually want to upset the poor thing. Crowley lifted his head enough to mutter a muffled “please” and perhaps it was the spirit of the season that compelled the angel to accept that, or perhaps his overflowing adoration for the demon in his arms, or maybe both.
“Shh, shh, I’ll take care of you, darling.” Aziraphale made to remove Crowley’s pants with a snap, and Crowley inhaled sharply at the suddenly exposed swathe of skin, and renewed his efforts to find relief in Aziraphale’s hand. The television droned in the background. It was nearly midnight, by the sound of things-- which gave Aziraphale an idea.
“Crowley, dear, can you wait to come for… mm… 4 minutes and 13 seconds?” Crowley looked up, confused.
“I… I guess? Why?” He wriggled a little, clearly wanting more pressure.
“Wait and see.” He smirked, eyes sparkling. Crowley groaned, but complied.
Aziraphale started with one finger, just teasing Crowley’s entrance as his thumb made lazy circles over his swollen clit. Crowley was already so wet from the teasing that the finger was finally inside with barely a push. He clenched around Aziraphale’s index, hissing for more, and Aziraphale gladly gave him another, still thumbing his clit.
At the same time, he brought his attention back to Crowley’s pert nipples, moving from one to the other with practiced pinches and pulls. Crowley was like putty in his hands as he worked the demon, little whines escaping from between gritted teeth. He loved to hear him come apart in his hands.
As he added three and eventually four fingers, Crowley was writhing and rocking onto Aziraphale’s hand. Aziraphale curled them just so inside him, in the spot he knew made the demon fall apart. How beautiful he was, letting himself experience pleasure like he was meant to.
Aziraphale’s clever fingers were buried deep in Crowley by the time the countdown was about to start, and he positioned their bodies so that they were tilted towards the empty glasses on the table. Crowley was becoming more and more vocal with each second, and Aziraphale could see his demon getting close after the minutes of teasing. The countdown started, and he concentrated hard to keep Crowley’s steady, but not push him over the edge just yet.
6
“Ngha… I- I can’t… Angel, oh fuck- I’m gonna-”
5
Aziraphale’s hand moved even faster as Crowley let out another string of gasps and moans.
4
“Easy now, darling, not yet,” Aziraphale soothed, rubbing Crowley’s abused nipple under his shirt.
3
“Nononono- ah! Shit!” Crowley desperately bucked his hips up to meet each thrust, legs quivering.
2
“Angel… Aziraphale, please!”
“I’ve got you, love. You ready, my sweet boy?”
1
“Yes, yes, yes!”
Happy New Year!
Crowley came spectacularly, his entire body shaking as he finished across the Champagne glasses, Aziraphale having pulled his fingers out just in time. Both his fingers and trousers were completely soaked with Crowley’s release.
“Fuck yesssss,” Crowley hissed, as he panted out his orgasm in little “ah”s and whines.
Dimly they both registered the music and fireworks from the television, and as Crowley panted and rode out the high, Aziraphale tilted his head to meet for a messy, lazy kiss.
“Happy New Year, my dear.”
“Gnm… yeah, mm… thanks, Angel.” He flopped down, boneless into Aziraphale’s arms, thoroughly content. After a moment, the last of his sex-sated brain seemed to remember something.
“What about you, though, Angel, aren’t you-” He felt underneath him blindly for any kind of effort, and was surprised to find none. “You didn’t-?”
“No, I couldn’t let myself get distracted from taking care of you.” He smiled. “And you must admit, you are rather distracting.”
“Mm, point taken. But now that you’ve- I mean, I can return the favor, you know.”
“Well, I suppose I haven’t since last year…”
“Oh, you bastard, come here,” Crowley turned around in Aziraphale’s lap and planted a series of kisses across his face. He paused mid-smooch for a moment and put on a more serious expression, cradling Aziraphale’s face in his hands.
“I love you, Angel.”
“I love you too, my darling. Happy New Year.”
“Happy New Year.”