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Moon Dance

Summary:

Aziraphale had always thought he could only love Crowley from a distance. She has other ideas.

Notes:

Happy Birthday NaroMoreau I hope you like it.

Phantomstardemon
Thank you for being the best beta.

Work Text:

The rain had started to fall when they fled Lucus’ beach house. Near violent sheets of icy water pounded down from the sky as they wove down the road, jumping over the growing puddles.

They still held hands. 

They had since the confrontation in the library, and Aziraphale could still not get over the brilliance of that.

It was a perfect fit.

He dared to hope Crowley thought so too.

Aziraphale’s car was closest, parked next to the sea wall on the straight road that ran along the front. He unlocked the passenger door, ushering Crowley in, then splashed through the puddles to the driver’s side to duck out of the rain too. 

He missed the heat of her palm, the pressure of her fingers almost at once. Like a dancer who had come out of a spin and lost their partner.

“I’ll turn the heater on.” Aziraphale fumbled with the car's dials.

Crowley mumbled something through her chattering teeth, tugging the collar of Aziraphale’s jacket tighter to her.

His jacket, holding his scent against her skin. Seeing this, knowing it, mingled with gentle muskiness of her heat combined with the violets and engine grease that always surrounded her was doing things to his inner wolf that were best not allowed out. 

The heater groaned to life, the rush of warmth thickening the air. It made Aziraphale more aware of the damp shirt clinging to his shoulders. He tugged at his tie, unbuttoning his collar, hoping the rain hadn't turned the cotton completely translucent.

“How old is this car?” Crowley leaned forward, tapping the vents the air blew out from. “It sounds like a fifty-year-old smoker.”

“I’ve kept it in tip-top condition for ten years.”

She glanced up at him, a smile curling the corner of her mouth, scarlet hair half tumbling down and sticking to her cheek. “You’re bleeding.”

Aziraphale touched his eyebrow. He’d thought the dampness was rain water, but his fingers came away red. 

“Here.” Crowley produced a tissue from the pocket of her skirt. She leaned forward over the gear stick and pressed it to his wound. An opening move in their hesitant circling that brought her breasts, framed in that sweetheart neckline, closer to Aziraphale's face. 

He closed his eyes, fingers digging into his knees. 

Aziraphale would not give in to it. Especially not after what he had said to Lucus and the two of his lieutenants who’d cornered Crowley in the library. Aziraphale had been ordered by Lucus to organise the pack's archives and he'd been getting some extra work done on that when they'd crashed in accompanied by a fug of Crowley’s fear and the male's feral excitement.

He'd lunged forward without thought, to put himself between Crowley and her pursuers.

Just because she was having her heat, just because she was unmated, didn’t mean it was an open invitation. They weren’t animals, at least not all the time. 

They were just using the wolf to excuse bad human behaviour. 

And she’d only come to the moot to vote on the alliance with a neighbouring pack. And she’d only had to do that because Lucus wouldn’t allow her to vote by proxy.

If she had a mate, he’d said, she’d have a proxy wouldn’t she?

And Crowley’s whine of frustration, the absolute despair on her face had made Aziraphale do something rather stupid. 

He didn’t like fighting. He didn’t like causing harm, or being harmed, come to that. Some things were worth the risk though.

Some things.

Crowley. 

And the brave, beautiful creature had been readying herself to take on all three of them alone. 

Aziraphale couldn’t have allowed that. 

He kept his eyes shut, trying to be happy that his bold interference, his suggestion that she’d been coming to the library to find him because he had the prior claim, hadn’t offended her. That she was here, gently cleaning the blood from the wound Hastur had left and tutting over him because she wanted to be and not through a sense of obligation.

“You were quite something,” Crowley murmured. 

Aziraphale dared to open his eyes. “So were you.” The way she’d smashed the vase of roses over Ligur’s head had been delightful. 

Aziraphale fancied a blush darkened her neck, that her pulse jumped just slightly faster where it nestled beneath the delicate skin between the knobs of her collarbones. 

Aziraphale gripped the sodden material of his trousers tighter. He wanted to slide his hands beneath his borrowed jacket, rest his palms on the curve of her waist, loosen the corset top she wore so it would slip down…

It was their scents mingling. 

That was what was testing his resolve. There were six days until the full moon. No reason for this nonsense.  “Here, let me.” Aziraphale took the handkerchief from Crowley's hand. “Your back’s all twisted, sitting forward like that.”

Crowley slid back into the passenger seat, drawing a knee up to her chest. Aziraphale was so far gone with lust that he didn’t even comment on her boot heel resting on his upholstery. He just thanked whoever cared to listen that her skirt was long and handkerchief-hemmed with enough material to keep most of those enticingly long legs covered. Although the red leather of her boots left nothing to the imagination as far as her ankles and the swell of her calves was concerned.

Crowley bit at her thumb nail. There’d be an impressive bruise on her jaw tomorrow. 

Tomorrow, they’d both be aching in places they were too wound up to think about now. 

“Where are you parked?” Aziraphale asked. “I’ll drop you by your car?”

Crowley laid a hand on his wrist.  

The whole world shrunk to the four places the pads of her fingers touched Aziraphale’s skin.

He stilled, body and mind bound as securely as if she'd wrapped him in chains of silver.

“They are going to expect me to smell like you now.” Crowley’s voice was cautious.

Aziraphale managed to look up and meet her steady, careful gaze. “You can keep the jacket.” He wanted her to keep it. Very badly. 

She looked at him, eyes rolling. “Of you .” Her eyes dropped to the front of his trousers. “Do I need to spell it out?”

“You make it sound so dramatic.” Aziraphale’s throat was tight, his mind trying to process exactly what she was suggesting.

His body had no such difficulties. The wolf was more than ready to pounce.

“You defeated our pack leader, Aziraphale…”

“We. We did.”

The pleasure on Crowley’s face, the start of one of her rare smiles, made Aziraphale’s stomach flip. The purely happy expression faded quickly. They always did, but each one made Aziraphale love her just a touch more.

Yes. He'd long since realised how he felt. As hopeless and unrequited as he believed it was.

“Lucus is going to be pissed." Crowley frowned. "He is pissed. If he thinks we lied to him... I mean, it’s not quite fuck or die. Fuck or be severely punished. In public. I don’t want them to hurt you for saving me.” Crowley looked away. She withdrew her hand and tore at her nail with her teeth again.

“Oh do stop that, you’ll damage them,” Aziraphale huffed.

Crowley’s eyes met his. Her eyebrows lifted. 

"Really, how old are you? Biting your nails." Aziraphale fiddled with the heater again, trying to avoid the amused quirk of Crowley’s lips.

"You should know better than to ask an emotionally fraught woman that. Thought you were a gentleman."

She was thirty-one. Aziraphale still had the present he'd bought her at home in his wardrobe. Wrapped and labeled. He'd agonised over buying it, and had then been too anxious to actually hand it over. 

He'd stood in the corner of the dingy bar her friends owned, fingers digging into his lemonade glass, trying not to howl as she danced with everyone but him.

Thirty-one was not that much of a baby, but he'd be forty next year. It was enough of a gap to add to his hesitancy in taking that first step towards her to ask her to dance with him.

Crowley could do better than a lower ranking beta more interested in books and wine than status.

That didn't mean he hadn't thought about it though. Thought about her.

“I saved you because I didn’t want them to hurt you ,” Aziraphale admitted. It should have been obvious really, but his words made Crowley’s rare smile return. It made the blush of pink appear on her neck again. 

Aziraphale wanted to kiss her there, slip back the tan collar of his jacket and run his tongue from shoulder to ear, burying his hands in her hair.  “I’ll drop you at your car.” His fingers flexed on the steering wheel.

She touched his wrist again. Still just fingertips, caressing so lightly the hairs on the back of Aziraphale's neck stood up, and he felt the tingle of it deep in his stomach.

“Thing is, Aziraphale, I was coming to the library to find you. I wanted…" Crowley sighed with frustration, her head thumping back against the seat. "I don’t know what I wanted.” Her gaze fixed on the toe of her boot. “I should have voted and gone straight home, but I saw you leave and I thought maybe if I finally talked to you…” Her eyes closed.  “You drive me mad. Whenever you are in a room I know it. My whole body knows it, even before I smell you. And when I’m like this it’s worse. I just wanted... I’d have been happy just to sit on the floor and rest my head on your lap while you read, to be honest.” She swiped at her eyes. “Hormones. Sorry.”

Aziraphale swallowed. The idea of Crowley at his feet, between his legs… He couldn’t help but expand the fantasy to her cheek pressed to his thigh while he stroked her hair. It could be wound around his fist, exposing the vulnerable back of her neck. He could bend down and kiss it. 

“Could you say something? Look at me even?” Crowley nearly cried it.

“If I touch you, I can’t promise I’ll stop.” Were those words his? Far too honest for him, surely? They’d been hooked out of him. Drawn by the fraught look on Crowley’s face.

Aziraphale had spent too many full moons chained up in the bookshop’s basement, the beast inside howling for what the man had told him they couldn’t have.  

Crowley was far too young, far too vibrant and alive. She could have anyone. 

She was looking at him wide-eyed, lips slightly parted. Looking at him like she wanted him. “Suits me fine.” Her voice was rough. “Touch away.” She shrugged his jacket off her shoulders, exposing more of her chest, the start of the curve of a tempting shoulder before it vanished beneath the dark black velvet of the top’s arms. 

“Crowley.” It was a whispered prayer, terrified of its own power.

“The way you say my name makes me think you want it too.” 

It shouldn’t be this painful to be offered everything he’d ever desired. 

Not quite everything. 

As Crowley leaned in, Aziraphale put a hand on her shoulder. Two fingers on rain-chilled skin, two on damp velvet and his thumb just below the jut of her collarbone. He shivered. “I mean it. If I touch you, I can’t promise I’ll stop.”

The wolf was straining at the leash Aziraphale insisted on keeping him on. He wanted to devour. Aziraphale wanted to let him. Not just tonight though. It couldn’t be just for tonight. This was torture already. Knowing what Crowley tasted like, the noises she made, the scent of her tangled so tight with his, and never having it again would make him wild. 

Her eyes met his. It wasn’t light enough with the rain crashing down outside to really see the amber of them, but Aziraphale had the shade memorised. Whenever he had to buy something for the bookshop the colours he thought in were always Crowley’s hair, her eyes, her lips. 

“The feeling is mutual.” Her breath ghosted over his mouth. “Aziraphale, you are mine.”

She kissed him, carefully, as though afraid he would shatter at the touch. 

Six days until the full moon but Aziraphale could feel the wolf’s tail thumping. It was showing the man how he felt, making him want again all the things they’d long since given up hope of having. 

Aziraphale whined, lips parting as Crowley pushed her fingers into his hair, tilting his head back, deepening the kiss. She was nearly on his lap, damp curls falling against his cheek. 

Aziraphale tucked them behind her ear, got his other hand on her waist. It was like forbidden magic, fear-inducing and so very right. 

“I want you.” More truth spilling from him. He couldn’t stop. 

“Have me.” 

A growl tore from him as Crowley pulled away, wiggling through the seats and into the back of the car, skirts and boots conspiring to give Aziraphale only a glimpse of skin. 

“I have a bed at…”

Crowley’s hand snaked back through the seats, grabbed his undone collar and tugged. “I’m sure it’s lovely. Come here.”

Aziraphale climbed through the seats, banging the back of his head and landing in Crowley’s arms. Her lips found his, hotter than before, fingers plucking his shirt free from the waistband of his trousers. “Have me,” she breathed. “I’m so ready.”

Aziraphale could smell it, musky and sweet. When she shifted against him, hauling up her skirts and guiding his hand between her legs, he felt it. Damp cotton, the heat of flesh beneath. He pressed the tip of his finger inside her, stretching the fabric of her knickers. Crowley’s breath caught, her teeth digging into Aziraphale’s bottom lip. She squirmed again, batting his hand away, and then dragging it back, holding her knickers to the side. 

Aziraphale’s finger sank into her easily, so did a second. 

Crowley’s free arm wrapped around his neck, her spine arching, giving Aziraphale all the access to her neck he’d ever wanted. His cock ached where it pushed against the confines of his trousers, but it was a blissful torment. He traced Crowley’s jugular with his tongue, licked and sucked and bit his way up to her ear, then back down until he was kissing the tops of her breasts while she fisted his hair, angling his mouth just where she needed it.

Her hips bucked against his fingers, each gasp spurring Aziraphale on. If there were only more room in the damn car. He wanted his face between her legs, tongue thrusting into her. 

He sat back on his knees, shoulders curled forward, and began to wrestle her knickers down her legs. 

“Just rip them.” Crowley was breathless, hands gripping the back of the seat she was sprawled across and the front passenger seat to brace herself against Aziraphale’s tugging. 

“Are you sure?”

“Trust me, it'll be a nightmare getting them over my boot heels.”

The jealousy over how she’d managed to find that out was taken out on the fabric. They were off in two tears. Aziraphale held the ruined cotton to his face, inhaling. Still not enough.

Crowley squealed as he dragged her further down the seat, getting her legs over his shoulders so her backside was suspended in the air. Aziraphale bent down, nearly tearing her skirt too before he finally got his mouth on her cunt. He lapped at her entrance, trying to be slow, trying to savour, but at the mercy of his hunger.

Crowley’s thighs tightened against his ears. “Oh, fuck, Aziraphale. Please.”

He’d thought he’d been going mad before, watching and yearning. Hearing her talk to him like something from his filthiest, most forbidden fantasies made him snap. Aziraphale didn’t realise he’d still been holding back until she’d groaned his name like that, begged for him. He pushed his tongue inside her, feeling the flutter of her muscles as she clenched down on him.  

His cock was leaking, his hips twitching forward at nothing. 

He had Crowley supported with one arm. His other hand worked over her thigh and between her legs, shifting in the confined space so that he could rub his thumb over her clit. 

Crowley's whole body shook, boot heel thumping as it hit the car window. 

Azirphale held her tighter, chasing the salty taste of her, indulging his need to drown in her scent. 

“Oh, fuck me.” Crowley arched her spine, lifting her body higher. “Ohfuckmefuckme. Fuck me.” Her knee knocked the back of Aziraphale’s head. “I mean it. I want your cock.”

The world ground to a halt. “Crowley, I...” Aziraphale pulled Crowley’s skirt away from his face. “Don’t have protection.”

“Don’t need it.”

Crowley had managed to get her legs off his shoulders and was performing contortions to get herself upright. Aziraphale offered her a hand and was immediately slammed back against the seat, barely with time to get himself into a sitting position before Crowley straddled his lap.

“Don’t need it?” Admittedly there wasn’t much a werewolf’s immune system couldn’t handle, but still… "you’re in heat.”

“I know a witch. I trust her. If you trust me. I won't get pregnant. And I'm clean.”  

He knew it. Had paid rather more attention than was gentlemanly to who and what she smelled of. 

“I bet you are too?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale nodded. It had been an embarrassingly long time. A fact the wolf reminded him of every time they caught the bouquet of violets and engine grease on the air. 

“Then if you'd like to?” Crowley hesitated, drawing back from him slightly.

 The wolf nearly howled in protest. For once Aziraphale was in complete agreement with him. 

“Fuck me,” he begged. “Please, God.”

An absolute agony of fumbling followed. Zips and belts, and good lord, why had he bothered with underwear this morning, or ever. It was infuriating. 

Then Crowley’s fingers curled around the base of Aziraphale’s cock and the world went hazy. Then cleared to bright sharpness as his tip nudged at her entrance, slid inside. 

Aziraphale’s moan was echoed by one of Crowley’s own. They were done waiting. She bore down on him as his hips lifted, hands gripping her waist again. 

Her body squeezed him tight, forced another animal noise from him as she began to move. 

“You feel so good. Jesus, Aziraphale, if I'd known you were this big I wouldn’t have waited so long.”

“You're being dramatic again.”

She laughed. “Let me take your mind off it.”

The corset top opened at the front, each hook revealing more of the swell of her breasts. There was nothing beneath the velvet but smooth skin, dark pink nipples. Each joining of their bodies made them shake. 

“You can touch.” Crowley laughed again, more breathless than before. “But I want to touch too.” 

One of Aziraphale’s shirt buttons pinged across the car as she undid it. Her nails raked down his chest, over his shoulders as she pushed the shirt back. She kissed the stinging marks, and then bit the muscle at the top of his arm.  

“I'm going to devour you.” She nibbled his ear, body undulating as she rode him. "Take apart that primness." She sat back, keeping one hand on his chest, as though it was the only thing stopping his heart beating right out of his chest. She sucked her fingers, tongue pushing between them. 

Aziraphale was transfixed. Her fingers moved to her breast, pinching the nipple, stretching her flesh as she rolled it back and forth. "Want some?" She squeezed around his cock. 

Aziraphale lost control. 

Too much desire, too long held in check. He twisted them around, pushing Crowley onto her back, smashing his own head against the car ceiling and not caring. One of her legs went back on the parcel shelf, the other in the foot well. 

It was cramped, Aziraphale’s own legs were at awkward angles. There was enough leverage to fuck though, and fuck hard. All the softly lit fantasies he'd told himself he should want, did want sometimes, most of the time, faded with the need to possess. His mouth found Crowley's breasts, sucking one of those pebbled nipples deep into his mouth as he took her. 

“Oh,” Crowley’s hands slammed against the door behind her, legs lifting, thighs opening wider. “There you are. Like that! Just like that.”

Aziraphale bit at the pulse in the base of her neck, hard enough to bruise, to mark. The noise Crowley made was animal, a guttural whine. Aziraphale found her mouth, swallowing the last of it down. “Fuck, Crowley.”

She whimpered, fingers digging into his shoulders, nails pressing hard enough to pierce skin. “Swear again.” 

Their lips dragged over each other, not kissing so much as panting into each other's open mouths. 

“You’ve no fucking idea how much I’ve wanted this.”

“You really think that?” Crowley sank her teeth into his lip. Her legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him deeper, meeting each thrust with a needy, hungry one of her own. “Harder, you beautiful beast. If this is what you're like now, the full moon is going to be wild.” 

“Better. You won't be able to talk so much.”

Her laugh was delighted, spilling into a cry as he closed his teeth possessively on her neck. Not a real bite, gentle almost, but enough to satisfy what he was craving. Also enough to push Crowley over the edge. Her head hit the door handle as her shoulders nearly lifted off the seat.  

As she tensed around him, Aziraphale’s own pleasure began to build, a tug low in his belly demanding he thrust harder, take more. He was so close, and desperate to topple over the edge, but also wanted to hang in this moment forever, feeling Crowley tremble, hearing her broken gasps. She sighed his name, nails scratching over his back. It was too much. He fell, hips jerking as he began to come inside her. 

Aziraphale shouldn't have had a knot in his human shape, but it happened sometimes, especially this close to the full moon. Bodies would forget the boundaries that held them. And the instinct to mate was burning him up. 

As soon as Aziraphale recognised the sensation of swelling he tried to pull back. 

Crowley's heels dug into him. "Don't you dare."

Aziraphale buried his nose in her neck, movement restricted as his knot pushed against Crowley's flesh, locking them tight. 

She pushed back, the tug of her milking him dry, pulling shivers from him. 

He'd never come so hard in his life. 

Crowley's hand pushed between their bodies. She rubbed her clit, teeth biting her lip. 

"I feel so fucking full of you." Her hips worked, knuckles bumping Aziraphale's stomach. "So open."

She came again, a silent gasp, shaking through her as she clenched tightly around his knot. 

This time Aziraphale looked at her face. Eyelids fluttering, hair damp with rain water and the perspiration on her brow. Lips kiss-bitten and parted. 

His finger slipped to the place they were still joined, feeling how wet she was, how stretched around him. 

It was embarrassingly primal how complete that made Aziraphale feel, that she really was his.

He imagined what it would be like at the full moon. Six days. He'd never transformed with anyone before, but Crowley wasn't just anyone. 

“Do you think that will satisfy them?” Aziraphale murmured, nuzzling her breasts. He was sated and boneless. Happy. Fancy that, it'd been so long he could hardly recognise the feeling. 

I’m satisfied.” Crowley scratched his scalp, behind his ear in a way that would have made his tail wag, if he had one. “My heat has three more days to go though.”

“As lovely as you are, I can’t stay like this for three days.” Aziraphale's back was starting to ache, and all feeling had gone from his left foot. 

“You mentioned you had a bed. Or, you could stay at mine?"

Aziraphale lifted his head, catching the tail end of the tenderness in her eyes, the absolute softness of her face before it was hidden away. 

“If you like?” Crowley added. 

“I like.” Aziraphale kissed her. “If you have a bed.”

“With a mattress and everything.”

"Then take me home. I'm all yours." Completely, totally, for as long as she'd have him. 

"Yes," Crowley kissed his cheek. "You are."