Office Shenanigans V: What we want, what we deserve and what we get

Chapter 1

NSFW warning: This story contains a very graphic sex scene. Proceed with caution and only if you're an adult!

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Crowley blinked. Very slowly, his sleep-addled mind met reality. While he felt unusually rested, his neck was loathing the position. His right arm felt numb and, as Crowley began moving, complained with an unpleasant tickle.

Still, Crowley smiled. Looking down at the reason for his protesting limbs, he couldn’t help it. A blond-curled head rested against his shoulders, snoring lightly. The smell of Aziraphale’s shampoo filled Crowley’s nostrils and the warmth of the soft body made up for the kinks in back and neck.

After kissing Aziraphale’s hair, Crowley turned to the only light source in the darkened room. On the TV screen, the streaming service wanted to know if they were still there.

“Not really,” Crowley whispered and reached for the remote. When he had turned off the TV, he switched on the small lamp on the coffee table. It was not much brighter than the screen, but closer to Aziraphale’s face. That led to adorable nose scrunching and indignant grumbling before Aziraphale buried his face in Crowley’s chest.

On the close-by armchair, Aziraphale’s cats came to life, probably hoping for a midnight snack. Almost in perfect sync, they rose, stretched and jumped to the ground without a noise.

“Impressive,” Crowley commended the two - Luke and Leia.

Crowley still could not believe Aziraphale was a Star Wars fan. But there were many things Crowley had learned about his cute assistant in the last months. The two of them were very different in many regards, but had surprisingly much in common. Aziraphale’s knowledge of books did include a lot of comic book lore. Crowley couldn’t remember when he had been able to talk about Spiderman and why he was so much better than any other superhero at such a length as with Aziraphale. Aziraphale had brought up a decent (if unsuccessful) defence of other heroes even. Unfortunately, Gabriel had been of the opinion that his assistant had better things to do than discussing comics with Crowley which ended the conversation.

Their talk about science fiction, their fight about James Bond and their debate about Jane Austen had suffered a similar fate - cut short by work.

Often, Crowley found himself thinking how nice it would be to have Aziraphale all for himself. But he always quickly drew his thoughts away. No need to enter such dangerous, possibly heartbreaking territory. Still, right now, Crowley found himself on Aziraphale’s sofa with Aziraphale in, or more, on his arm.

Gently, Crowley nudged him. “As flattered as I am to be your chosen pillow, angel, I really need to stretch a bit.

Aziraphale turned in his arms. Another complaining whine sounded, but then his eyes snapped open. The formerly so relaxed face took on an expression of panic and Aziraphale sat up.

“Oh dear,” he said. “I’m terribly sorry, Crowley, I must have dozed off. Why didn’t you wake me up? That’s not what you came here for. I promised…”

“A shag?” Crowley laughed. “Well, it’s hardly a legally binding promise. Plus, I showed up here pretty unexpectedly and messed with your plans.”

It was true. On his business trip, Crowley had missed Aziraphale terribly. Upon returning to London, Crowley drove here right from the airport to surprise him, interrupting Aziraphale’s binge watching of a series Crowley had never heard of. So it seemed only fair to let him watch the last episode of the current season. They both hadn’t made it through awake.

“We still could…” Aziraphale’s hand wandered towards Crowley’s fly, but Crowley caught it swiftly.

With a wistful expression, he shook his head.

“Look at the time, angel,” he said. “If I want to get any sleep before work tonight, I need to get going now.”

“Oh… of course, yes… I’m very sorry… I know you expected…”

Crowley put a finger on Aziraphale’s mouth. “Don’t apologise. You did nothing wrong.” He grinned. “Since I’m back now, we’ll have plenty of opportunities.”

They got up from the couch. Aziraphale was wringing his hands while Crowley put on his jacket. Anxiety was written all over Aziraphale’s pretty face and he worried his bottom lip with his teeth. At first, Crowley thought he still felt guilty, but then Aziraphale cleared his throat.

Very quietly, he said, “You have your luggage here…”

“Um… yes?” Crowley said dumply before he understood.


“Y… yes,” Aziraphale said with a nod and pointed at Crowley’s suitcase. “It is right there. So you have a toothbrush. Even if not, I have a spare one and maybe you have something fresh to wear in there as well?”

Crowley had. As always, he had packed more than needed so there were clean clothes in there. He could, right? They could. Crowley drove Aziraphale home every night. So why not arrive together at work. Nobody would suspect anything because of that. And if they would, what of it?

“I have a toothbrush and clothes,” he said with a smile.

The insecurity fell from Aziraphale’s face and the tension from his body. Happily, he said, “And I have a big enough bed, coffee for the morning…”

“Lube?” Crowley interrupted with a grin.

“Th… that too,” Aziraphale said, blushing adorably.

Smirking, Crowley put his jacket back on the rack. He reached out and pulled Aziraphale against his chest.

“Guess that’s settled, then.”


Early morning sun awoke Crowley. Like red liquid it spilled into Aziraphale’s bedroom through a gap between the curtains. A furry tail, peeking out underneath the fabric told him who had caused said gap. Aziraphale had told Crowley that Leia liked watching early birds from the window sill.

But Crowley could not find it in him to be mad. Not when such a generous body was lying in his arms and Crowley’s morning wood pressed against such a deliciously plump arse. Grinning, he buried his face in Aziraphale’s neck. He breathed in deeply and nosed along the slope of Aziraphale’s shoulders.

After a while, Aziraphale stirred. Crowley was behind him, but a cute dimple on Aziraphale’s cheeks told him that he was smiling.

“I assume you did not bring a gun into my bed?” he asked, amused.

“Nope, dreamt of my substitute PA,” Crowley murmured against Aziraphale’s skin.

“Good man?”

“The best! Bit sassy, but usually very eager to please.”

Crowley’s hand slid towards Aziraphale’s arse. Gently, he stroked along the cleft, teasing, asking.

“Do we have time for this?” Aziraphale said.

“I would be willing to forego our morning fuck in the supply closet in exchange for having you now,” Crowley said with a smirk.

With a pleasant sigh, Aziraphale adjusted his position and spread his legs a little, answering the silent question of Crowley’s wandering hands.

“You’re the boss.”

“That I am.”

With a surprised groan, Crowley found Aziraphale still loosened from last night. Nonetheless, he reached for the lube. It was too much fun to make Aziraphale moan and beg with preparation to forgo it completely.

So Crowley teased the rim of the little pucker for a moment. His eyes wandered over the expanse of Aziraphale’s milky white skin, studied the rare freckles and watched the muscles tense under his ministrations. Intently, he listened to the elating breath and the low moans and sighs. After a while, he slipped two fingers inside Aziraphale, finding his channel warm, welcoming and ready. For good measure he brushed over Aziraphale’s prostate once, twice to hear him cry out in bliss.

Chuckling, Crowley withdrew. Aziraphale whimpered but Crowley shushed him gently. He put one hand on Aziraphale’s wide hips, the other into his hair. Carefully, Crowley lined his hard cock up with Aziraphale’s opening and pushed in.

In unison, they moaned. Neither had the time or the patience to go slow. So Crowley picked up a punishing pace from the beginning. His ears strained for any sound of pain or discomfort, he fucked into Aziraphale, hard and fast.

However, all the noises Aziraphale made were those of pleasure. His left hand clenched around the sheets, his right squeezed the pillow and his lush butt met Crowley’s hips with every thrust.

Slapping and panting filled the room. It was familiarly lewd, but Crowley could not help feeling the difference. Not a desk, not a copying machine, no car, no carpet and no couch - a bed, with soft horribly beige sheets, annoyingly soft blankets and infuriatingly fluffy pillows. No shushing, no whispering, no listening out for colleagues or passeryby. Just the sun streaming over them and a disinterested cat on the window sill. And the two of them. Together.

Crowley grew close. Quickly, he reached around Aziraphale’s body. Circling his fingers around Aziraphale’s cock, Crowley carefully thumbed along the slit and spread the precum. Aziraphale threw his head back, baring his throat. Taking the offer, Crowley attacked the vulnerable flesh with teeth and tongue. Meanwhile, he aimed for Aziraphale’s prostate with his cock and worked his lover’s manhood in sync.

After a few strokes, Aziraphale tensed. A babbled mixture of “Crowley”, “sir” and “thank you” fell from his lips and crescended in a blissful cry. Hot and white, his semen spilled on the dried mess of the night before.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Crowley pressed out.

Applying a light bite to Aziraphale’s shoulder, he followed him over the edge. Tightly, he pressed their bodies together while he pumped his spend into his lover’s channel.

When they both had rode out their climax, Crowley held on to Aziraphale, trying not to think about the alarm that would go off any minute now.


Aziraphale tried. But he couldn't help it. He was permanently repeating “I’m showering with my boss” in his mind. Compared to what they had done with each other this objectively wasn’t much, but somehow to Aziraphale it was huge.

Luckily, Crowley behaved. They were already late and Aziraphale knew himself well enough to admit that for Crowley he would throw out common sense. But Crowley kept his hands to himself as they cleaned up.

After getting dressed, they went into the kitchen. Crowley only downed a cup of coffee and watched Aziraphale eat his sandwich. But despite this and the limited time, it was… relaxed. Comfortable. Aziraphale caught himself wishing it could be like this forev… well, more often. Light banter over books and movies after a passionate night and morning. And Crowley did not seem to mind either. Maybe… Aziraphale subtly shook his head. Best not to go there. This was more than he had ever hoped. The last thing he should do was bothering Crowley by being demanding or needy.

So when Crowley asked, “Ready to return to Hell?”, Aziraphale tutted disapprovingly, but smiled and nodded.

Something in his expression must have given his sombre mood away, howeer. Even though Crowley misinterpreted it.

“Don’t worry, Angel,” he said. “If they don’t suspect anything by now, they won’t if we arrive together.”

Aziraphale did not say what went through his mind. That if Aziraphale was not bent over some surface for Crowley, he was just an employee. That Crowley was respectful, kind, sometimes flirty with Aziraphale, but that he was like this with others, too. He did not say that maybe nobody suspected anything because they weren’t very suspicious.


It was not a complete secret that Aziraphale was sleeping with Crowley. Anathema and Bea knew as they were Aziraphale’s best friends. Possibly, Bea had told Dagon. Of course, Tracy was aware, but she had retired two months ago and technically no longer counted as “a colleague who found out”. But his secret was safe with them.

However, they did worry. Aziraphal attempted to appear fine with the arrangement he had with Crowley. But he had been friends with the women for years and they knew he was not one for a casual affair.

So, Friday night in Anathema’s apartment, they cornered him. They all were a few drinks in and neither of the ladies had any filters anymore. Not that Bea usually had many.

“Come on, Aziraphale,” Anathema said. “Yes, Crowley is hot, but you’re not one of those who leer over him for his looks.”

“Yeah,” Bea laughed, “you couldn’t have cared less for Mr. Sexy and Cool when Gabe brought him in. But when he ripped that aresehole from the 4th a second one for yelling at his secretary, you suddenly noticed him.”

“Oh yes,” Anathema said. “Or Aziraphale’s heart eyes when Crowley personally kicked out that creep who had groped the intern!”

“Hmm, and when Crowley stood up to that rich jerk who wanted to invest but was just being rude to everyone ranked lower than him? Crowley told him that his money was welcome, his stupid face however, never again.” Bea laughed at the memory. “Aziraphale was so close to falling on his knees, mouth wide open!”

“Bea!” Aziraphale said, indignant. He didn’t mention that he had done just that today in the basement storage room. “Besides, what does all that have to do with anything?”

“It shows that while you appreciate Crowley’s attractiveness, you care for him as a person more,” Anathema said.

“Well… maybe. But that doesn’t mean…”

“Okay, if Crowley ends it tomorrow,” Bea said bluntly, “You’d be cool with that? You’d just look for another hot guy to shag you?”

“Well, maybe!” Aziraphale said, held Bea’s gaze, took a swig of his drink and smacked his lips. “Maybe I’ll make a list tonight?”

Anathema and Bea laughed. But apparently they saw the vulnerability underneath his defiant behaviour and Bea changed the topic.

“Well, if you’re looking for another shag, keep Gabriel off your list, please” she said. “He’s my project.”

“Seriously?” Anathema asked. “Him?”

“I knoooow,” Bea whined. “But there is something about this stupid, arrogant yet polite arsehole that makes my knees go weak. You know when he is acting all pompous and know-it-all, wielding his boss power, part of me wants to punch him, part of me wants to beg him to take me.”

Anathema snorted. “You need help.”

“I really do,” Bea mumbled into her glass. “But you know… when I needed time off after my grandma got sick, he was very understanding and helped Crowley arrange everything.”

“I guess he isn’t all bad,” Anathema grumbled.

“He means well,” Aziraphale added. “He’s just…”

“... a dumbass,” Bea finished the sentence. “Yeah, I know.”

Biting his lip, Aziraphale refilled his drink. Good to know that he wasn’t the only one struggling with his feelings.

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