1. Hot Mechanic/Rich Cat Enthusiast
Aziraphale felt a little light-headed looking at Crowley bent over the open bonnet of the Bentley. The demon had stripped down to his undershirt and his shoulders were gleaming with sweat and a few artful streaks of grease. Then, of course, there were the pants – not to mention their contents. Would pants that tight hinder your movement when you were doing… car… things? Probably, but Aziraphale absolutely didn’t care.
“Er, knock knock,” he trilled, trying to strike an attractive pose in the doorway. He’d pulled some less-used pieces out of his wardrobe and was looking very snazzy, if he said so himself. There was even a cravat – he’d rather missed the cravat.
Crowley straightened his elbows, although he kept leaning on the car in that way that drew attention to his arse, and turned his neck in a way that may not have been strictly regulation to peer coyly over his shoulder. “How can I help you, sir?”
“Oh! Ah, dreadfully sorry to bother you,” said Aziraphale, adjusting his cufflinks. “Only I wanted to see how my Bentley was getting on. Work out what was going on with the, ah, sparkle… plug… did you?”
Crowley smirked and turned around to face him, this time leaning back against the car and wiping his forehead very slowly with the back of his hand and rather a lot of flexing.
“Oh yes,” he purred. “It is… right out of sparkle, it is.”
“Oh dear,” said Aziraphale. “Any idea when I can expect it in working order? I need it to take my cat to the vet, you see.”
Crowley looked slightly nonplussed, but said “We-ell… Depends on if I can... get the parts, doesn’t it?”
“I’m sure that can be arranged!” Aziraphale bustled over to the car and peered into the front end. “What do you need?”
Crowley bent over the engine again and stroked a proprietary hand over a particularly greasy bit. “I’ll show you,” he said. “But you might want to take off your jacket – don’t want to get it all dirty, do you?”
“Right, right,” Aziraphale said breathlessly, taking off the jacket and cravat before rolling up his sleeves for good measure.
“Mmm,” said Crowley, eyeing up Aziraphale’s forearms. “Well, this here is the, er, petrol jimmier, right?”
“Yes, of course,” said Aziraphale, leaning closer. Crowley took his hand and put it on what was, presumably, the errant petrol jimmier – Aziraphale wasn’t really paying attention – before pressing his long, lean body up against him and hooking his chin over his shoulder.
“Feel that?” Crowley murmured, wrapping both their fingers around some sort of cylinder and stroking slowly up and down as he rolled his hips gently against Aziraphale’s backside.
“Oh yes,” Aziraphale sighed, his eyes fluttering closed and his body relaxing into Crowley’s.
“It needs to be pumping nice and smooth into the oil whipper here, see?” Crowley continued. “Nice... and… smooth.”
Aziraphale moaned quietly and reached back towards Crowley with his other hand. That was when the cat woke up.
“Aziraphale,” Crowley said calmly, all the seductive rumble gone from his voice. “What in the name of Heaven and Hell is that horrifying shrieking noise?”
“Oh dear,” said Aziraphale, opening his eyes. “I put down the cat carrier in the other room just before I came in and I quite forgot about it.”
“And… Why is there a cat carrier?” said Crowley.
“Well, your message said I was to be a rich cat enthusiast,” explained Aziraphale. “I wasn’t really sure what you intended, so I, you know… I borrowed a cat.”
Crowley was now leaning on the Bentley again, with one hand – the other was covering his eyes in what Aziraphale felt was a rather melodramatic fashion.
“Car enthusiast, angel,” he said through gritted teeth. “You were supposed to be a rich car enthusiast.”
“Ah,” said Aziraphale. “That… That does make more sense, yes.”
2. Cleopatra/the Snake
Aziraphale had been a little sceptical1 , but with Crowley’s serpentine form curled tightly around one breast (he’d gone with the biggest he felt comfortable with for the occasion, and the visual was certainly something), forked tongue tickling Aziraphale’s nipple, and the tip of his tail stroking sinuously against Aziraphale’s clit, it seemed to be working out alright. That was when Crowley abruptly became human-shaped again.
Aziraphale waited a moment. Various bits of Crowley were still pressed up against the relevant bits of Aziraphale, but this hadn’t been in the plan, so he asked “All right there, dear boy?”
Crowley didn’t move, but groaned directly into Aziraphale’s, as previously mentioned, relatively cavernous cleavage and then said, a little muffled, “Sorry, it was too weird.”
“I understand perfectly,” Aziraphale said, slightly breathless – Crowley’s pelvic bone had ended up right where his tail was previously, and well, he wasn’t exactly less sinuous in this form.
“Snakessss… don’t have the same erotic sensibilities,” Crowley muttered. “The body just felt like it was murdering a bit of supper.”
“Completely fine,” Aziraphale said, with a bit of a wriggle. “My dear, I wonder if you might… well, it’s only that I was just getting, er, revved up, as it were...”
“Oh, right, ssssorry,” said Crowley, leaning up onto his elbows and licking his lips. “As you were.”
3. Femme Fatale/Private Detective
Aziraphale looked up from his paperwork and quite accidentally stopped breathing. Crow- no, that’s right, “the dame” was leaning against the door-frame like an accident waiting to happen, all leg in red stilleto heels and a pitch-black dress slit all the way up the thigh. The dame stroked the lapel of his fur coat seductively and said, in a rich, smoky tone, “Mister Fell, I’m afraid I have no-one else to turn to. My ex-husband has stolen all my money and now I think he’s trying to have me killed.”
“Ooh, how dreadful,” said Aziraphale. “Not to worry, we’ll get you sorted out in no time.”
“I’m afraid I can’t afford your rates due to my aforementioned cash-flow problems,” said C- the dame, stalking into the room with even more sway in his step than usual. He bent over and leaned his elbows down onto Aziraphale’s desk, so that the fur coat fell open and showed Aziraphale the transparent, gauzy fabric draped over his small, perky breasts. “But I’m sure I’ll think of some way to… compensate you for your time.”
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” Aziraphale said, licking his lips. “I’m happy to work, er, pro bono on this one.”
“Are you now,” purred the dame, swinging his legs onto the desk and placing one foot directly into Aziraphale’s lap. “How generous. I must find some way to express my gratitude.”
“No, no, no need,” Aziraphale assured him. “It would hardly be ethical, madam. Tell me your husband’s last known address, I’ll get everything sorted out. Perhaps it’s simply a misunderstanding!”
Crowley fell out of character so abruptly he banged his forehead on the tabletop. Oh, no, he was doing that on purpose.
“Noir, angel,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “Hard. Boiled. The mean streets!”
“Was that, er, not quite…?” Aziraphale said sheepishly.
Crowley sighed and kicked off his heels. “That was more along the lines of soft-boiled, angel, yes. Possibly even sunny-side up.”
“Oh dear,” said Aziraphale. “On the, er, bright side, that dress really is stunning.”
“Oh, you think?” said Crowley, brightening up. “Look, it has pockets!”
4. Tentacle Monster/Naughty Schoolgirl
“All right, stop,” said Aziraphale, and Crowley froze. Since he currently had Aziraphale suspended in mid-air by four shadowy appendages, with three more insinuating themselves under the flippy tartan skirt that made Aziraphale’s thighs look amazing, if he said so himself, this only allowed Aziraphale to fully appreciate just how silly the whole thing was. Also, one of his white knee socks had been slipping, and he could now feel it dangling just off his toes.
“Am I hurting you?” Crowley said urgently, looking about ready to turn all those limbs to self-flagellation instead.
“No, dear, that’s exactly it,” said Aziraphale kindly, as the sock finally gave up the ghost. “Surely the point of this one is to feel, oh, I don’t know, overwhelmed? I’m feeling quite extraordinarily whelmed for someone at the mercy of an occult (yet erotic) nightmare from another dimension, I’m afraid.”
Crowley sighed with relief. “I guess I’m just having trouble really inhabiting the role, you know? I mean, what’s my motivation in this scene?”
“Getting as many tentacles inside my various orifices as possible, I should think,” Aziraphale said primly.
“Right, but, well, why? What sort of reproductive cycle could this creature possibly have?”
“Those Japanese woodcuts2 were never all that specific about tentacle monster sociobiology, really,” said Aziraphale. “Listen, I’m happy to discuss this further, but would you mind putting me down first?”
5. The other kind of alpha and omega
“I am curious about the whole knot situation,” Crowley admitted. “But I’m not sure about the...”
“...physiology of the receptive partner?” Aziraphale suggested.
“Right, that,” Crowley said gratefully. “Listen, we both grok the standard edition self-lubricating orifice pretty well, why don’t we just go with that?”
“Perfect,” said Aziraphale, undoing his trousers. He frowned a little as he concentrated on his penis, then said “Right, that ought to do it.”
A corresponding Effort on Crowley’s part and a little bit of messing with hormones later, they found themselves in bed having a lovely time but struggling to remember the storyline through their mutual fog of lust.
“We mustn’t, oh,” Crowley gasped, fisting his hands in Aziraphale’s hair. “We mustn’t…”
Aziraphale raised his head, pulling one hand from its tight grip on Crowley’s thigh to wipe quite a lot of moisture off his face. “We mustn’t, ah, inadvertently form a permanent telepathic bond? I think?”
“Right, right, that,” Crowley panted. “Only please fuck me right now, oh fuck, Aziraphale.”
“Ngk,” said Aziraphale, and practically levitated up Crowley’s body to bury his face in the demon’s neck and his cock in the demon’s dripping pussy. “Oh, yes.”
“Please, harder, come on,” demanded Crowley, wrapping his legs around Aziraphale’s waist. “Put your back into it!”
Aziraphale did. By the time Crowley had come screaming on his cock a couple of times, they’d both quite forgotten that they were doing anything anatomically unusual. It was therefore somewhat disconcerting when he buried himself as deep in Crowley’s body as he could get, pulling him in by his thighs, ankles over his shoulders, moaning quietly as the last spurts of come left his body, and then found himself quite unable to withdraw.
“Angel,” Crowley whispered urgently. “That’s very – are you – what – oh shit.”
“Oh, I’ve… Oh dear, I suppose I’ve knotted you.” Aziraphale felt shockingly aroused for the moment immediately following an orgasm and, well, somewhat possessive, but also a trifle sheepish. “My goodness, that does feel peculiar.”
“It feels bloody fantastic, but we didn’t precisely pick a comfortable position,” said Crowley, tweaking Aziraphale’s ear with his toes. “How long did you say this was going to last?”
“Oh dear,” said Aziraphale. “I really have no idea. It is fictional, after all. Would you like me to just get rid of it?”
Crowley wiggled a little bit and then made a non-committal gesture. “I don’t know, I think we might as well see it through. Could we roll over a little bit, though?”
That was easier said than done, and involved quite a bit of Crowley alternately moaning in pleasure and wincing in pain at every minor change in position. In the end Aziraphale had to get his wings out for the extra leverage (and padding) and they wound up in a sort of criss-cross shape with Aziraphale on his side and Crowley’s legs over his hip.
There was about thirty seconds silence as they both surveyed the landscape, as it were, before Aziraphale stretched his free wing down between Crowley’s legs and started caressing his clit again with the tips of his feathers.
Crowley’s eyes rolled back in his head.
“You know, this one’s not too bad,” Aziraphale mused. “I don’t think the bit about the telepathic bond really added anything, though, do you?”
“Nrgh,” said Crowley. “Not – as such. But the – anatomy – has promise.”
1. Not about the Cleopatra part – they’d been friends, actually, and he rather thought she’d find the whole thing hilarious, at least once she was finished threatening various forms of bodily harm on certain historians. The snake thing, though, had never occurred to him before – but, well, it wasn’t as though he went around thinking about sex with random humans, either. It was Crowley in the snake body just as in the human body, and that was the main thing. Still, he hadn’t been at all sure his own body would respond – they did seem to have a mind of their own sometimes.Back
2. Aziraphale wasn’t unaware of the modern, animated version, but the original was what had made the impression upon him and he couldn’t help thinking of ‘hentai’ as simply a special case of ‘erotic woodcuts’.Back