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The first hairpin turn Crowley made had Aziraphale huffy. But after the third miraculously spared pedestrian, Aziraphale turned to look at him, flushed and wide-eyed.
“Are you doing this on purpose?”
Crowley turns to him, holding his hands up in confusion. “What?”
Aziraphale reaches out to steady the wheel, letting loose a disgruntled noise. “Driving like a twat!”
“A twat? Angel, are you sixteen? I’m watching the road, we’re fine.”
“We have another hour to the wedding, and I don’t think head office would appreciate reassigning us bodies after we botched their apocalypse!”
“Angel, I’ve been driving as long as cars have been on the road. We’re fine.”
“I don’t feel fine, dear. If I’m not nosing the dash because you’ve slammed on the brake, I’m being pushed against the door or sliding near you!”
“Ah, and you don’t want to be near me?”
“Hush,” He takes a breath and closes his eyes. “I just want to be able to enjoy this car ride, towards a lovely reception, with my lovely husband. But I can’t do that if I’m being tossed around every two seconds!”
Crowley’s frown lines make themselves known. “I just want to get there so I can get out of the car. I hate sitting still for this long. And much as I love you, your constant nagging is killing me.”
“Nagging–!” Aziraphale flusters. “What can I do to make you drive more carefully?”
Crowley’s eyes flit upwards as he sighs irritably. “Blow me, angel.”
Aziraphale raises a single brow, giving the demon an up-down. “Very well, then.”
Crowley does a double-take, his glasses slipping low. “You- what?”
“Mind the bumps, dear,” Aziraphale clicks his seatbelt off. “And the curves.”
“Angel, angel,” Crowley raises his elbows so Aziraphale can duck under them, “Is that wise? Is that safe?”
“You’ve been driving as long as cars have been on the road,” Aziraphale parrots, untucking his shirt from his jeans and removing his belt. “I trust you.”
“Angel, if you put your lips on me right now, I’m going to swerve into traffic.”
Blue-green eyes peer up at him, challenging, mischievous. He bites his lip. “Do you want me to sit back properly?”
Crowley’s eyes flit down to him, then back to the road, pupils wide as he hisses through his teeth. “Fuck. Fuck. No, angel. Please.”
“Very good. Mind the road.” He hears his fly come undone, and he swallows thickly, white-knuckling the steering wheel as he’s taken out of his trousers. For a while, there’s nothing; Aziraphale makes soft little hums of approval, his grin audible. Puffs of breath ghost across his head, and he shivers; “angel, are you going to–”
The Bentley revs, and Crowley gasps, arching his back slightly, “F–ffffffuuck,”
Aziraphale pulls off with a pop, and Crowley groans, letting his head fall back against the headrest as he scans the road. “I don’t think the Bentley would appreciate you slamming on the gas or brakes, nor would I. Drive properly or I stop.”
“Yeah, yes, okay, I will, angel. I will.”
“There’s a good lad.” He leans down again, taking Crowley into that searing wet heat, and he bites his lip hard to keep from arching or kicking. He takes him deeper, little by little, humming in amusement when Crowley lets out little huffs and grunts of concentration; he’s not small, by any means, and the little bit that he can’t take, he wraps his hand around. Aziraphale swallows around him and he gasps, stuttering around a moan;
“Angel, fuck.” He tries to pull up, as if to answer, and Crowley sets a gentle pleading hand on top of his head, “Don’t, please. Stay. You feel so good.” Aziraphale positively wiggles with the praise, leaning up just slightly to lick a slow stripe from base to tip, tongue laving at his head; Crowley groans, tangling his fingers into the white curls. “God, angel. You’re perfect.”
“You’re not so bad yourself,” Aziraphale smiles, taking him down to the hilt again as Crowley moans, tightening his fist in his hair; his nails dig into the steering wheel as his hips make an aborted little thrust upwards; Aziraphale pulls back, working him slowly with his hand, “I think it’d be best to leave the thrusting til later,”
“L-later–? Crowley moans as Aziraphale twists his wrist just so, biting his tongue and smiling.
“If you behave for me, I wouldn’t be opposed to you fucking my throat later tonight,”
“Oh, fuck, Aziraphale,” Crowley’s face flares as he pants shallowly, “Alright. Okay.”
Aziraphale leans down once more, taking him easily; Crowley grunts, pleasure coiling hot in his stomach. He runs a hand down his back, scratching lightly; Aziraphale hums his appreciation.
“You’re unfairly good at this,” Crowley groans. “Though, all those oysters - I’d hazard to say they didn’t hinder your skill.”
“Mmh,” Aziraphale swallows around him, and he moans,
“I remember the first time you went down on me - angel, you have no idea how long I’d fantasized about it. I’ve wanted to fuck those sweet lips of yours since you opened your mouth. Kiss them, too,” he laughs breathily, hissing out his pleasure, “but fuck them, definitely.”
“I’ve wanted it just the same,” Aziraphale pants shallowly as he pulls back, kissing the blood-hot skin; “Those beautiful robes and skirts you’ve always been fond of - don’t leave much to the imagination,”
“Oh, but you in white robes,” Crowley moans, hips stuttering.”Fuck. I’m close, angel.”
“Already?” Aziraphale tuts playfully, “we’ve still got a few miles to go,”
“I’ll be fine,” Crowley’s voice pitches to an almost pleading tone. “Don’t stop.”
“Alright, then.” Aziraphale settles down once more, putting in more effort as he bobs his head, throat tightening around Crowley in a way that makes him whimper unabashedly,
“Oh, fuck, angel, just like that. You’re so good, Aziraphale, you’re perfect. I love watching you down there. There’s… angel, fuck. There’s a car coming down the road. Keep your head down, fuck, I’m so close– angel, don’t move–!”
As the grey sedan rolls past them, Crowley bites his bottom lip so hard the skin breaks under his teeth, teetering on the edge of his orgasm; Aziraphale pulls back, looking far too smugly at his love.
“Oh, dear me. Poor thing. Were you close?”
“Blast, Aziraphale, you did that on purpose!”
“Dearest, I didn’t even see the other car. I’ve been quite busy down here. And I did what you said - I kept my head down.” He leans up to press his lips to the tattoo on the side of his face; Crowley shivers,
“No, don’t, that’s so unfair–”
“What is?” Aziraphale turns a studious eye to the road, reaching a hand down to wrap around his prick as he trails kisses over his red-hot ears.
“That! You know they’re sensitive, you– ah– you bastard!”
“You love it,” Aziraphale grins, nibbling on his earlobe as he keens, pulsing in his hand. “You love the way I tease you, edge you, how I keep you on your toes. Don’t you?”
Crowley groans, eyeing the speedometer, face burning. Aziraphale smirks, biting his ear a bit harder.
“Don’t you, Crowley?”
“Yes, goddamn it, Aziraphale, please!”
“I suspect you’re going to drive much more carefully from now on, hm?”
“Angel, if you plan on doing this again, I’m going to get ticketed for going too slow!”
“Beautiful,” Aziraphale grins, trailing kisses down his neck, hiking his shirt up to kiss his stomach, running the flat of his tongue over the base of his prick and balls. Crowley hiccups around a moan, gritting his teeth. “Mmh, and quite a lovely flavor.”
“Stop, I’m going to discorporate,”
“Stop?” Aziraphale smirks, and Crowley groans,
“You know what I mean! Damn it, Aziraphale, please go down on me again!”
“Say please again,” Aziraphale teases his glans with his thumb, “it’s so pretty how you say it.”
“Please! Angel, I’m begging you.”
“That you are,” he coos, taking him down into his throat. Crowley groans,
“Yes, fuck, angel. That’s it.” Aziraphale bobs his head, cupping his balls carefully, running a thumb along the sensitive skin there; Crowley presses his shoulder blades into the seat, hissing. “Oh, angel. That’s so nice. Keep it up, you’re so good to me.”
His tongue strokes the side of his cock, and Crowley releases a full-body shudder,
”Yes, angel. Just like that. Fuck, just like that.” Aziraphale’s hand snakes up his shirt, rubbing his chest firmly, grounding him; he lets out a few puffs of breath, gripping the steering wheel, watching the road. “I’m close, angel. Keep going.”
Aziraphale hums his approval, working quicker; the car is filled with filthy sounds that Crowley would never suspect the angel was able to make, urging him closer to the edge.
“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Angel– angel, angel, yes–!”
The Bentley, bless it, stays on the road; Crowley’s almost positive he didn’t have any part in that, arching up, moaning out his gratitude as Aziraphale works him through it. The hand that isn’t on the wheel braces on the ceiling of the car as he thrusts up uncontrollably; Aziraphale doesn’t reprimand him. Instead, he swallows, rubbing Crowley’s chest as he comes down from his high, blinking the blinding white light from his eyes. “Fuck. Fuck, angel.”
“Mmh,” Aziraphale wipes his face with a smirk. “Are you okay?”
“Okay,” he moans, dragging a hand over his face. “Try fan-bloody-tastic. That mouth of yours is temptation incarnate.”
Aziraphale chuckles lightly at this, looking out of the windshield. “Oh, would you look at that?” A little venue appears over the hill. “We’re here.”
“Yeah, lovely, that. Take the wheel.” Aziraphale grabs the wheel as Crowley snaps the mess away, tucking himself back into his trousers. “We’re going to this event, we’re going to play nicely and be polite, and when we get to the hotel room, you’re going to enjoy your last few minutes of being able to walk straight.”
“Is that a threat?” Aziraphale smiles playfully.
“Oh, no, angel. It’s a promise.”
As they step out, Anathema greets them, “There you are! I’ve been going mad without the two of you. Are you hungry?”
“Oh, no.” Aziraphale smiles sweetly, “no, I think I’ve had my fill.”