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"Ngk- come on!"
Crowley growled in frustration, cursing under his breath as he tried to button his leather pants. he tugged, he pulled, but to no avail.
Letting out a sharp exhale of annoyance, he let go of his waistband. His paunchy stomach poked out of the open zipper and unfastened button. he had developed more than a few layers of fate lately, and it was all thanks to that angel. With his sweet, heavenly, thick blood-
Crowley's thoughts were interrupted as his stomach growled. The sound of it partially excited him, as whenever Aziraphale heard it, he immediately offered his blood. Unfortunately, Aziraphale was not currently present to do so, leaving Crowley a bit unsatisfied.
Crowley shifted, as his stomach grumbled again. It was quite odd, really. He never used to be this hungry. For the past several decades, he had been able to go for days, even ca couple of months between feedings. Recently, he found himself afflicted with a near constant craving for Aziraphale's blood, one that wouldn't stop nagging at him until it was satisfied. What had happened? Where had his resolve and resilience gone in recent months? It hadn't been so long since Crowley stanchly refused to drink from his angel, even when he was parched, even when Aziraphale had offered.
Now, the moment Aziraphale exposed his neck for Crowley, he couldn't help himself. His craving would entirely consume him, culminating in pure desperation and a hunger akin to starvation.
Crowley licked his fangs, finding that they were already a bit distended in anticipation for something that wasn't to come.
What had happened to him? When did he get so greedy? So hungry? And so... chubby?
And why? Why had it happened? And why didn't it bother him as much as it probably should have?
The first answer that came to him was obvious. It was Aziraphale's blood. Sweet, honey-like, and addicting. Just the scent of it could have Crowley practically salivating. Even so, he had restrained himself before...
Maybe it was the fact that Aziraphale was so willing, so eager to give Crowley his blood. The angel would expose his next, his wrists, any and every vein entirely unbidden. It was clear that he enjoyed it, as he had assured Crowley multiple times. Although the angel seemed innocent on the surface, it appeared as though a very un-angelic, wanton being lurked underneath. he was left a delicious, moaning mess every single time Crowley devoured him, always begging for more, always pleading that he bite harder. To say that Crowley enjoyed the reaction was an understatement. He absolutely loved it; it gave him a thrill that few other things had.
All of that made sense to Crowley. The irresistible flavor, the salacious moans from his lover. Who wouldn't enjoy that? Perhaps not everyone would, but people would enjoy some aspect of one of these factors.
There was something else. Something Crowley couldn't quite wrap his head around. Something utterly confusing, yet undeniable.
It was the fact that every single time he fed from Aziraphale, he found great pleasure in the sensation of being filled. The feeling of the thick, rich blood taking up every ounce of space in his stomach. The way it would slosh around inside of him. Just the way he could feel his stomach growing tighter. Something about it was just so... strange. It felt good, somehow, and he wasn't sure why. He craved more of it. Crowley could recall the way he felt after one particularly long feeding, as his stomach had become just a bit rounder. His waistband had gotten tight, and his waist brushed up against his shirt. He was stuffed, felt his gut stretch to accommodate everything he had consumed. And it felt good. He wasn't sure how or why, it just did.
Even now, as he stood in his room, trying his damndest to fasten his pants even though he knew it was a lost cause, he liked it somehow. It was frustrating, but somehow the thought that he was getting bigger gave him a certain warmth, an excitement, something.
Damn it, what was this?
__________________________
Aziraphale Carefully knocked on Crowley's bedroom door.
"Crowley?"
"What?"
"Are you alright? You’ve been in there for quite a while."
Aziraphale heard a rough sigh of frustration through the door.
"'S fine."
"Alright..." Aziraphale paused. "Is it alright if I come in?"
"... Sure."
Aziraphale promptly opened the door. His eyes immediately fell upon Crowley, brow furrowed, eyes cast downward as he pulled his waistband as tightly as he could. Even so, it seemed impossible for him to fit his swollen belly into his clothes.
A warm flush crept up Aziriphale’s cheeks. Something about it was just so... just so... oh...
Over the past few months, Aziraphale had grown quite fond of feeding Crowley. Excitement fluttered in his chest every time he exposed his neck, waiting with unbearable anticipation for the moment those sharp fangs would sink into his neck. The moment in which Crowley would start devouring him, pinning him to the nearest surface, or pulling him in as if he was trying to feel and consume every inch of his being. It was absolutely breathtaking. Every bite seemed to crack something open, something that had been locked deep inside of Aziraphale, to the point where he had been unaware of it for most of his existence. Once it was released, it filled Aziraphale with ecstasy. The intoxicating sensation of the bite, the ravenous manner in which Crowley would consume him. he couldn't stop himself from emitting the most lustful sounds. Just thinking about it could summon a wanton sigh.
His own enjoyment was not the only factor in this unholy, pleasurable experience. Crowley had reiterated the fact that he immensely enjoyed Aziraphale's blood. He had even said that it was sweet and intoxicating. Just hearing those words sent a rush throughout Aziraphale's entire system.
A similar feeling pervaded his senses as he saw Crowley in this rather... unconventional state. His soft, rotund belly was clearly not going to fit in those tight things. Even so, the sight of it, along with the fact that Crowley was trying to desperately to fit himself into his undersized clothing, was strangely... exciting. For a moment, Aziraphale felt as though he were seeing the results of his own handiwork. The idea sent a shiver throughout him. Several thoughts slipped into his head, all of which felt rather untoward and perverse.
He tried to push those aside and think of something to say. Anything he could thing of; it had to be better than simply staring. Although, he certainly enjoyed the view.
"Is everything alright, Crowley." he asked.
"Ngh, it's fine, just-" he tugged at the waistband again. " Just- can't seem to-"
Aziraphale swallowed, growing warmer by the minute. He really should feel any way about this, but something about it... It reminded him of the feedings. Of how desperate Crowley had seemed when drinking his blood. Of how relaxed he'd seemed. Of how full and tight his stomach would get ever time. And those almost endearing hiccups he would get every time he drank a bit too much. Just the thought of it made something in Aziraphale's lower chest flutter.
"I think you might need a new pair, dear," he said.
Crowley groaned, ceasing his efforts. "Ugh... Think.. you might be right."
That soft, paunchy tummy was still poking out, and causing Crowley's shirt to ride up. Aziraphale tried not to look, but... oh...
What was it? It was so... attractive, he thought. But how? Most people seemed to like people who were fit, who was tight, flat stomachs. While he was aware that body type didn't matter, and he would always love Crowley regardless of his looks, something about this pudgy figure was so... hot.
He swallowed. Crowley slowly sat upon the bed, propping himself up with his hands. his legs were spread in their usual sprawl-like fashion. His stomach seemed to poke out a little more in this position, causing Aziraphale to flush a bit more the second he noticed it.
"Nothin' fits anymore," Crowley said.
"Well.. as I said, you could always get some new clothes?" Aziraphale suggested.
Crowley half-scoffed, half-laughed. "This from the one who's apparently kept the same suit jacket for the past three-hundred years?"
"Three-hundred-sixty-five years, thank you very much," the angel tugged at the hem of his jacket, smoothing out any wrinkles. "Although, I've never needed any new clothes."
Crowley shrugged, then sighed, looking down at his belly, on the verge of spilling out over his lap. Aziraphale recalled how it had been straining against his waistband for quite a while, now. How Crowley's button had popped off, at one point. Aziraphale had certainly continued to keep the vampire well-fed. That plump, round tummy was proof of that. The mere thought sent a rush of warmth throughout Aziraphale.
"'M a bit surprised, 's all," Crowley admitted. "Didn't think vampires could get, well," he shifted. "Chubby."
"Does it bother you?" Aziraphale asked.
"Nah, not really. Except trying to get my bloody trousers on."
"Is it... unhealthy, in anyway?"
"Can't really get diabetes, or heart problem, if that's what you’re asking," Crowley said. "Don't have a beating heart, and my body's changed to where it doesn't use most of the other organs."
"Ah. I see." Aziraphale fidgeted with the hem of his jacket, before saying, "Well, if you don't mind, and it won't do any harm... I'm quite fine with this.. development."
Crowley looked up with a quizzical expression. "How d'you mean, angel?"
"Well... I-I.." he swallowed. "I rather.. erm... enjoy the feedings."
Crowley nodded, looking as though he were processing all of this.
"I very much like the idea that I’ve kept you well fed and... I think I would like to keep doing it," Aziraphale admitted. "If you'd like to, that is."
Crowley contemplated for a moment, then slowly stood. "Can't say I really mind it. Guess I'll be getting some new clothes, then."
Aziraphale straightened up, "Indeed, my dear. We can leave as soon as you're ready."
He turned to leave, before feeling an icy hand lightly graze his shoulder.
"Angel."
Aziraphale turned around.
"I think I'd like some breakfast, 'fore we get going."
Crowley’s voice was a bit deeper as he made his request. Aziraphale felt a fluttering in his chest, and he stepped a bit closer.
"My dear," he said, carefully reaching out and stroking Crowley's tie. He stood up straight, excitement growing. "Have I made you a mite peckish?"
"Peckish?" Crowley asked.
"What I mean is," Aziraphale said, "are you hoping to take a bite?"
"Thought I'd made that clear, angel."
Aziraphale quickly did away with his bowtie and promptly unfastened is collar. A thick, unrelenting warmth rose in his chest as Crowley grew closer. he gently licked this angel's neck, as if attempting to tease him, before giving in and sinking his fangs into Aziraphale neck. The angel moaned as he felt them slide in.
As if the feeling of Crowley's sharp fangs penetrating his neck wasn't enough, Aziraphale began to hear those sweet, familiar, eager swallowing noises as the vampire drank from him. he sank into Crowley as he gripped tighter. With his body pressed against that of his lover, Aziraphale could feel Crowley's stomach pressed against him. His hand fell to the vampire's stomach, as he felt it slowly fill. His soft tummy began to grow fuller and tighter with every second that passed. It only added to the pleasure Aziraphale felt. Oh, lord, it was so much. The ravenous swallowed, Crowley's tight grip, those sharp fangs, and that slowly expanding tummy- oh-
Aziraphale couldn't withhold his moaning. It was just so good. Heat coursed throughout his body. He wanted more, he wanted to be bitten harder, to be gripped and pinned to the nearest surface... Good Lord, these thoughts were so salacious, so lewd, so indecent, but it didn't change the fact that they relentlessly pervaded his mind. Was it such a crime that it felt so wonderful? And was it so wrong to want to satisfy his darling? To fill him? To keep him properly fed. He gripped Crowley's stomach harder at the thought. maybe he was just imagining things, but it did seem bigger.
Aziraphale whined as Crowley withdrew his fangs, exhaling deeply. it wasn't enough! His body screamed for more. He squirmed, feeling quite unsatisfied.
Crowley loosened his grip. He licked his fangs, briefly shutting his eyes as he did so. Aziraphale looked down at Crowley's stomach. It had grown a bit since before. The slightest satisfaction worked its way through Aziraphale, and he smiled a bit. The vampire's belly had rounded out a bit more and pushed its way past his leather trousers. The zipper had come completely undone. Aziraphale had a feeling that, no matter how Crowley sucked in his gut, he would never fit into his pants again.
"Hmmn..." Crowley subtly cupped the underside of his belly. "Haven't done myself any favors here."
Aziraphale couldn't quite bring himself to respond. he tried to look away but.. oh... he shouldn't have been so enamored by how plump Crowley had gotten. But he didn't care. It didn't make the sight any less alluring.
Aziraphale carefully reached out, his hand hovering above Crowley's stomach. "Do you mind?"
"Go ahead."
He began to gently rub Crowley's stomach in circles. A rush of heat crept up Aziraphale's cheeks as he felt the blood slosh about and settle, eliciting quite growling noises. Crowley hiccupped rather lowly, before letting out a sigh.
"Ngh... 'scuse me, angel."
"Oh, nothing to worry about," Aziraphale's eyes were still fixed on Crowley's belly.
"Mind if I... just... sit down, a bit?" Crowley began to sit back on the bed.
"Oh, of course!" Aziraphale began to help him down, before sitting next to him and joyfully continuing to stroke Crowley's stomach.
He felt it expand a little more as the blood settled. Crowley hiccupped again, and leaned back, groaning slightly.
"Are you alright?" Aziraphale asked.
Crowley began to slough a bit. His eyelids drooped a bit. "I think I drank a bit too much..." his voice sounded vaguely strained.
"Oh dear. Perhaps you should lay down."
Crowley nodded, lowering himself onto the bed. Aziraphale followed suit, nestling next to him. His thumb gently rubbed Crowley's stomach, which groaned uncomfortably.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"'S not your fault."
“Even so," Aziraphale said. "Perhaps I could made it up to you?"
The angel began to gently massage Crowley's swollen belly. He carefully kneaded it with his fingertips, resulting in sighs of relief from the stuffed vampire.
"'S good. keep... keep doin' that," he said, his eyelids drooping further.
Aziraphale complied. He slightly pushed in Crowley's stomach. It was tight as a drum. Crowley hiccupped again, only slightly stirring as sleep had begun to consume him. Aziraphale continued to carefully knead the vampire's stomach, trying to push down the delight he felt in the fact he had thoroughly stuffed and satisfied his love. After all, it had resulted in a stomachache. The poor dear was slipping into a coma from his overindulgence. Aziraphale doubted that Crowley currently possessed the ability to move.
Just as Aziraphale thought Crowley had finally fallen asleep, another hiccup would escape him, and Crowley's eyes would flutter open briefly, before closing again. All the while, Aziraphale continued, to sooth the vampire, rubbing his rotund stomach in gentle circles until the two finally fell asleep.