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BAZ  



Simon’s fingers card through my hair slowly and I nuzzle my face further into his chest. We’re lying in his bed, and I know Simon’s only still here for my benefit because one of his wings is folded underneath his back and I’m sure it’s not comfortable. 

 

One of my arms is pinned under Simon’s waist against the bed and my other hand draws circles against his bare chest, barely shy of his nipple (just to tease ). I kiss the mole in the middle of his neck and smile against his skin when he shivers a bit. 

 

Simon runs warm, which makes him feel like my own personal heater to press my cold feet against. (He’d kill me for thinking that way). The only time I ever see him shiver is when I kiss him in unexpected places (which is why I do it so much). 

 

Just as Simon’s turning a bit in my grip in order to kiss the top of my head, there’s a loud thump coming from upstairs. 

 

I jump a little bit and move my hand to grip at Simon’s side. “What the-?” I ask, looking up at the ceiling like that will give me answers. 

 

Simon shakes his head softly. “The upstairs neighbors. They’re loud.” 

 

I roll my eyes. “Get a broom and knock on the ceiling,” I suggest.

 

Before Simon can respond, there’s another thump followed by a muffled moan. I look at Simon with wide eyes. There’s another groan and a third thump. 

 

“Are they fucking?” 

 

Simon blushes. “Yeah, that’s what I meant by ‘they’re loud’, love. It’ll be over a few minutes,” he promises. 

 

“A few minutes? Crowley.” 

 

There’s another bump. 

 

I don’t particularly want to sit here with my boyfriend and listen to his neighbors have sex all night (or even for a few minutes, as Simon said). 

 

I turn and raise an eyebrow at Simon, running my fingers over his chest slowly. “You wanna fuck louder than them to establish dominance?” 

 

He stammers out, “What?” and pushes back on my shoulder. 

 

I shrug. “C’mon,” I say softly, sliding my hand up Simon’s neck carefully and rubbing his earlobe between my fingers, teasingly. “Maybe they’ll stop.” I think I really just want an excuse to fuck, and this seems as good a time as any. 

 

“I don’t think they’re going to stop just because we’re having sex one floor below them,” he says. “They’ll be done in like five minutes.” 

 

“Then we’d better get started.” 

 

I shift just enough so I can drape one leg over the top of Simon’s, pressing my entire front against his side. He shuts his eyes as I resume tracing the patterns along his chest before pinching quickly at his nipple. He growls, low in his throat. He flicks his eyes open and rolls them at me before balling up the back of my shirt into his fist (which is sure to wrinkle it, but I’ll get over it) and pressing me closer to him. 

 

“Shouldn’t be too difficult to make you that loud,” he whispers into my ear and I practically whimper at the feeling of Simon’s breath rolling over my skin. I’m putty in his hands. 

 

I push a hand into his hair and pull his face over to meet my mouth, immediately kissing him with as much fervor as I possess. His tongue presses against the seam of my lips and then he’s licking into my mouth, coaxing my tongue out to cooly slide along his. 

 

Simon twists his hand around to start undoing the buttons of my shirt (which he’s getting better at doing one-handed) and I help him get the last few undone. Simon lets my shirt fall open and grins, moving so he’s straddling my hips and can press his hands against my chest, thumbing over my nipples. 

 

I groan softly but choke on the sound when Simon suddenly pinches my nipples, my voice pitching up higher with the pressure. 

 

“Fuck,” I breathe. 

 

Someone from upstairs yells, “Oh God!” 

 

Simon blushes. “Are you sure about this?” he asks, continuing to tug and twist at my nipples so even if I wanted to say no, there’s no way I could form a coherent response. 

 

I just nod and gently buck my hips up into his. Simon responds exactly how I want him to - growling quietly and flashing me a raised eyebrow before leaning down to suck one of my nipples into his mouth. He flicks his tongue and I whine, pressing into his touch while his hands go to unbutton and unzip my jeans. 

 

“Hurry,” I whisper, wiggling my hips in hopes to get him to get my jeans off faster, but Simon just grinds back against me in response (and I’m not going to stop him). 

 

Simon palms me through the front of my jeans and I get harder under his touch. I’m ready to go in moments. He’s still licking and sucking at my chest and I can barely focus on anything but. 

 

“Please,” I say softly, only reduced to begging when we’re in bed like this. My mouth is only used to the word when Simon’s got his fingers inside me or around me or his mouth on me. 

 

Simon pulls away from my chest with a soft lasting bite to my nipple before tugging down my jeans and pants. He stands up to pull off his own trackie bottoms and pants. He’s hard already, too, his cock flushed and pretty. I’m proud of myself for doing that in such a short amount of time. 

 

I’m cold without him. (I always am). 

 

I reach up and wrap my hand around his hip, rubbing at the edge of his stomach with my thumb. He’s looking over me with soft eyes, full of lust but with that tinge of care that I’m used to seeing. 

 

“We don’t have time to be soft, Snow,” I insist, tugging on his hip. 

 

He rolls his eyes but crawls back onto the bed, pushing at my ankles so my knees are pushed to my chest and he has more access. I rest my ankles on his shoulders.

 

I grab the lube from the bedside table and hand it to him, anticipation thrumming in my veins. I watch, eyes wide, as Simon slicks up three of his fingers, kissing softly at my ankle. Simon sets the lube down and bites at my ankle as he presses a finger into me. 

 

I gasp in a breath and throw my head back. It’s been a while since we’ve properly fucked and the stretch of his finger inside me is just barely painful (in a really good way). He pumps it into me quickly and I naturally rock against him in hopes he’ll add another one sooner rather than later. 

 

He does, pushing the second finger into me and curling them both up. My mouth falls open and I pant heavily, fucking myself back against him. 

 

Simon mouths at my calf and sucks at the skin there as he adds a third finger and stretches me open. 

 

“Crowley,” I moan, biting my lip to stifle the sound. 

 

Simon bites at my ankle. “Thought we were being loud, baby,” he says, fucking his fingers into me faster. 

 

I choke on a breath and whine loudly. “I know,” I say, grinding down on him. “Fuck me already.”

 

I can still hear creaking from upstairs but it’s drowned out by Simon groaning loudly as I buck my hips towards him, grinding onto his fingers. 

 

“Okay, fuck ,” Simon says, removing his fingers. I can hear him slicking up his cock and I press my hips backward into the air like it’ll help me get fucked faster. “Ready?” he asks, pressing the head of his cock just barely against me. 

 

I whimper and push back. My legs are still stretched up with my ankles pushing against his shoulders so he can wrap his hands around my thighs and use that leverage to thrust into me in one long motion, his hips flush with my arse. 

 

I shut my eyes and hold my breath as I adjust to him being in me. Crowley, he feels so good. 

 

I tell him so. “Shit, Simon,” I breathe. “Feels so good.” 

 

Simon takes that as a confirmation to start moving, not taking time to build up to it. He presses into me quickly, over and over, working up a maddening pace. His tail whips up and winds around my knee. 

 

I whimper and moan in response to his movements, hands tightening their hold on the sheets next to me. 

 

I can still hear the bed from the upstairs neighbor and someone moaning loudly. I don’t have to think about it for much longer because Simon knocks the thoughts out of me as he wraps his hand around my cock. 

 

I half-shout at the pleasure that flares up where his hand touches me. Simon’s loud growls and groans fill the room, fill my senses. I open my eyes to watch him fuck me, moaning too loud at how good he looks like that. (He looks so fucking good).

 

Simon’s bed frame is a piece of shit and it creaks loudly at the intensity of Simon’s movements, the top of the frame smacking the wall when it’s particularly hard, forcing a whine out of me. 

 

“Fuck,” I say emphatically as he matches the pace of his hand to his hips, thoroughly and completely fucking me to death (I guess I’m already kind of dead). 

 

“Nngh,” Simon grunts. “Shit, Baz,” he says loudly, jutting his hips into me faster, moaning and growling with every single motion. 

 

I’m not much better - whining and groaning as I reach up to try and find purchase holding onto his arm, scrabbling my nails against his skin. My legs are going numb from this position and it feels better than I ever could have hoped for. 

 

Crowley , I feel almost teary. 

 

Simon and I are certainly being louder than the couple upstairs (I can’t even hear them at all - whether that’s because they’ve stopped or because I can’t focus on anything except Simon’s heavy breaths - I’m not sure). 

 

Simon turns his head so his face is pressed against my calf, kissing softly at the skin there to contrast with the heavy pace he’s set, tearing me open with every thrust. 

 

“I think they stopped,” Simon says, slowing the motion of his hips a bit, voice thick and catching in his throat. 

 

“Doesn’t mean you can,” I insist, fucking back against him harder. 

 

Simon’s still got his hand wrapped around my cock and he redoubles his efforts, stroking me in time with his thrusts, moving faster and harder, moaning into my ankle. 

 

“Fuck,” I practically yell, letting myself bask in the feeling of him against and inside of me. “Shit, Snow, I’m-” I cut myself off, head thrown back as I choke on my own voice. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” 

 

Simon digs his nails into the top of my thigh and fucks me harder. “Show me, darling,” he growls. 

 

Fuck. 

 

I jut my hips back against him sporadically and I feel my body jerking as I hit my orgasm, unable to catch my breath and squeezing my eyes shut. I clench around him. 

 

Simon groans through clenched teeth and he jerks into me. His movements get sloppy and he bites down on the flesh of my calf as he orgasms, hand stuttering over my cock. That’s fine by me - I’m already feeling incredibly overstimulated and my chest aches from how much I love him. 

 

I rock gently back against him to draw him through his orgasm, still whimpering and panting at the feeling of Simon inside me. Simon keeps his eyes closed but kisses gently at my ankle and rubs his hand along my thigh. He slowly pulls out of me and I immediately feel cold and empty without him. 

 

Now that the only sound filling the room is both of us breathing heavily, I recognize that the couple upstairs is quiet. 

 

Simon hands me my wand from the bedside table and I cast “ Clean as a whistle ” before moving my legs away from his shoulders and grunting a bit at the soreness. (They’re sure to be even worse tomorrow - it’ll be absolutely worth it). I reach up to tug at his shoulders so he’s lying against me. I shift him so he’s laying half on top of me, his stomach pressed into my hip and arms wrapped around my waist. 

 

“We won,” I whisper into his hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

 

He laughs softly and kisses my collarbone. “They’ll be at it again tomorrow.” 

 

I shrug and softly run my fingers over the top of his wing. “Guess we’ll have to do this again.”

 

“Guess so.”