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In the quiet, peaceful confines of Crowley's Bentley, a harsh, yet low crackling static of the car's radio murmured all around. Crowley, concealed within the radio, observed his angelic partner intensely and silently.
Aziraphale, nesting in the driver's seat, casted a curious glance downward at the suddenly roaring radio. It was a rare privilege that Crowley had granted him the opportunity to take the demon's beloved car out for a spin. These excursions were rare, occurring once every few months, but they offered the angel a chance to savor more of the simple pleasures of human life such as cruising.
Typically, during these drives, Crowley respected Aziraphale's desire for solitude. Yet, at this very moment, something had set the demon on edge, and it seemed that Aziraphale's choice of companionship, or rather, the contents of a dish of travel sweets, was the source of his irritation.
“Angel, what did I tell you about eating in MY bentley?” He hissed, indignation presenting itself clearly in his gruff voice.
After an incident where Aziraphale had accidentally spilled a drink all over the clean leathery seats of the car, Crowley had put a ban on any type of food.
Aziraphale replied, “Crowley, you know how peckish I can get!”
The demon scoffed, “Didn’t I just treat you to a huge lunch right before you left?”
Crowley, personally, had no desire for food whatsoever. Despite taking Aziraphale out for a bite often, the idea of consuming food was abhorrent to him. However, he enjoyed watching the angel gaze intensely at whatever dish was placed in front of him.
What Crowley DID find amusing was the bizarre food fads that would surface every few years among humans. They seemed to have a knack for concocting the most repugnant combinations, and Crowley took great delight in the ability to claim the credit for these dishes.
Aziraphale frowned, his eyes drooping with a guilty expression reminiscent of a scolded dog. He had indeed consumed a substantial amount of food—far more than any average human could manage in a single day. It wasn't JUST a substantial lunch he had eaten today. He had indulged in a heavy breakfast in the morning, and several slices of cake the previous night.
"Well, yes," Aziraphale admitted, his tone somewhat sheepish, "But you know how fast my corporation can burn through all that energy."
Aziraphale, satisfied with his answer, then brought a sweet to his lips. However, now that Crowley had mentioned it, he tried to ignore a creeping feeling of shame for his unfortunate gluttony.
Crowley couldn’t help but roll his eyes, though he acknowledged that there might be some truth about his celestial metabolism. The demon couldn’t ignore the glaring reality that even an angel’s corporation had its limits, especially with Aziraphale’s neverending indulgence.
As Crowley had recently taken Aziraphale out more and more for dinner dates, luncheons, and nights out drinking, the angel's figure had undergone a noticeable transformation. His thighs and arms had bulked up noticeably, the subtle rounding of his ass had become more pronounced, and the gentle jostle of his stomach had become a mesmerizing sight whenever he moved.
Crowley found himself unable to tear his gaze away when Aziraphale would reach up to retrieve a book from a high shelf, inadvertently lifting his shirt and revealing the soft skin on his tummy.
He yearned for more moments when Aziraphale would eat savagely, succumbing to the seductive allure of food until he became a sleepy, yet content mess. There was an undeniable hunger in the way the angel would desperately look at him, needing Crowley, whenever he’d take him home after one of those specific “dates”. He needed more of that. More food for him. More doughy flesh. Just more Aziraphale.
“Um… Crowley?” Aziraphale’s voice broke through the haze of Crowley’s thoughts.
Crowley blinked, returning back to the present. The Bentley had come to a complete halt, now parked on the side of the road.
“The… the seat belt feels quite snug. I don’t believe it was like that a few moments ago.” He said, a tinge of panic lacing his tone.
Aziraphale was right. The seat belt now seemed alarmingly tight.
The lap belt pressed firmly against the lower portion of his stomach, pushing it up and out further.
Satan, this was indeed quite a devilish sight.
“Crowley?!” He repeated, his discomfort growing more intense by the second. “This isn’t funny!”
Crowley chuckled, his voice dripping with amusement. “I don’t control what the car does, angel. She has a mind of her own.” He teased, thoroughly enjoying the situation more and more by the second.
Suddenly, two more seat belt straps seemed to manifest from the back of Aziraphale. They coiled themselves around his chest, creating a makeshift harness. The straps clung to his chest, enhancing the prominence of his breasts as it constricted the angel’s upper torso.
He fussed, “Release me, demon!”
“Angel…” Crowley, still voicing from within the radio, replied. “Didn’t I tell you not to eat in my car? You really couldn’t resist being away from food for a few hours.”
A sudden, ominous snap echoed through the car’s interior, and in an instant, Crowley materialized into the seat behind Aziraphale. The seat belts tightened, causing him to emit small, startled whines.
He leaned in closer, hot breath against his ear. “Think of this as a sort of punishment,” he declared, his tone sharp.
Aziraphale felt a rush of heat flood into his pale face. Whatever his corporation was experiencing was rather intriguing.
He didn’t need Crowley to release him. All it would take for him to escape this predicament would be one simple miracle. Yet, he chose not to do so.
"Crowley, help me," Aziraphale beckoned in a hushed voice.
Crowley's voice dripped with a suggestive tone. "And how do you want me to do that, angel?"
Aziraphale couldn't hide his frustration any longer. "Stop making these darn seat belts so tight!" he exclaimed, tugging at the one near his chest. "I feel like a hog right now."
"Right now?" Crowley scoffed.
An irritable scowl appeared on Aziraphale's face as he retorted, "I know, my dear, how FAT I've been getting. You don’t have to mention it."
Crowley's sly demeanor shifted into something more suggestive. "You don't seem at all concerned by it."
Aziraphale blushed, his voice dropping to a mumble. "I like it."
Caught off guard by the confession, Crowley couldn't help but feel a rush of confusion and excitement.
"J-just help me!" Aziraphale implored, attempting to steer the conversation away from his sudden confession.
Without hesitation, Crowley vaulted over to the driver’s seat and settled himself rather awkwardly against the plump angel. He guided Aziraphale’s arms up and behind his head.
“W-what are you doing, demon!?”
“Angel, may I?”
Aziraphale scanned Crowley’s face, sensing the intensity of his desires radiating from within.
After a moment of hesitation, he nodded slowly, trusting in Crowley to not harm him.
And like hooks responding to their master’s command, the seat belts emerged from the back, restraining HIS angel even more.
Aziraphale, taken aback by the intensity of the moment, experienced a tornado of feelings – fear, desire, pleasure, and a profound sense of self-reflection. He began to question himself.
“My dear…” He began, “Am I a sinner? Is it bad that I enjoy these earthly indulgences?” His voice tinged with uncertainty.
Crowley’s response was a slow, deliberate lick of his lips, accompanied by a long hiss. “Yess,” he purred. “Always so rapacious. You never are satisfied. You always need more. Aren’t angels supposed to have self-control? You clearly have no restraint. You just keep funneling food down your throat until you’re practically bursting.”
The tension between them crackled with raw desire.
Aziraphale groaned and pushed into Crowley’s body desperately.
Crowley scoffed, and pushed him back against the seat. Savagely, he popped open his vest buttons, and revealed Aziraphale’s taut shirt, along with slivers of pale skin seeping out.
“My, my.”
Embarrassment surged onto his face as he suddenly became very self-conscious about his body. “O-oh dear,” he stammered. “I don’t recall this shirt being so small when I first got it.”
“And how long ago was that?” He inquired, a curious gleam filling his eyes.
“A few days ago.” Aziraphale admitted, his gaze dropping as he grappled with his shame, unable to meet Crowley’s intense stare.
Crowley, sensing his angel’s discomfort, gently lifted his chin, forcing him to lock eyes with the demon. At that moment, Aziraphale noticed how Crowley’s eyes shimmered as beautifully as the stars he had created.
“YOU may think of it as a ‘sin’,” Crowley murmured slowly. “But to ME, my angel, it shows how wonderful you are.”
Aziraphale huffed, “You don’t mean that.”
In response, Crowley reached over and seized one of the sweets. Aziraphale’s mouth tingled as it immediately began to produce thick saliva.
Crowley’s free hand found its way to the back of the angel’s gorgeous white locks, his fingers gripping a handful of his hair, and suddenly yanking his head back.
“Open your lips.”
He opened his mouth, obeying the demon’s command. Crowley pushed the sweet in, resting it against his tongue, feeling his fingers being engulfed by hot steamy breath that sent shivers throughout his body.
Within the cramped confines of the Bentley, the two celestial beings became engrossed with each other. Crowley, leaning up against his ear, growled tender endearments, but also harsh words into the angel’s ear.
With each whisper, Crowley slithered in a sweet into Aziraphale’s patient lips.
The sweetness of the candies mingled with the intoxicating words, creating a heady cocktail of temptation and longing.
Crowley’s free hand, laden with desire, trailed down Aziraphale’s chest, stopping at one of the strained shirt buttons. He played with it in between his fingers, pressing it in, feeling the tension before swiftly slipping it out from its hole.
He did this with each button, slowly revealing more of the pale skin hiding beneath.
Aziraphale was forced to only watch, as his physical constraints left him with little agency. The prolonged suspension of his arms was beginning to take its toll, and the relentless pressure of the seat belt below his stomach was a cause for discomfort.
As Crowley’s hand went lower and lower, inching closer to the point where he would finally expose his belly, the angel’s initial glee started to morph into panic.
“Crowley, don’t,” he pleaded.
Crowley raised an eyebrow, “Why?” He asked, genuine concern filling his voice.
Aziraphale hesitated for a moment before finally admitting, “Y-you won’t like what you see.”
“Nonsense,” He chuckled. “I’d like any form you’d take, my angel.”
He let out a resigned sigh, his blush deepening and pooling across his face once more. With a quiet “okay”, he signaled him to continue.
The final buttons were undone, releasing the angel’s abdomen from its imprisonment.
Crowley savored the sight of his angel. His eyes traced every curve of his form. The angel’s belly, now free, appeared incredibly soft, and captivated the demon.
As his gaze traveled along his sides, something caught Crowley’s attention– beautiful, golden stretch marks. They adorned the delicate skin like works of art, a testament to his corporation’s transformation. To Crowley, they were not flaws but rather additions to Aziraphale’s undeniable beauty.
His breathing hitched, “Oh… angel,” he said.
“It’s vile, I know!” He replied, feeling deeply sickened by the sight of himself, and tears welled up in his eyes.
“Not at all.” He wiped Aziraphale’s eyes, his fingers slightly burning due to the tears. “You look magnificent. Angelic. Perfect!” His words dripped with adoration.
Aziraphale stared at Crowley, his gaze filled with love. A soft smile graced his lips as he spoke. “You’re too perfect for me,” he admitted. “Heaven may disapprove, calling everything I do, everything I enjoy, ‘bad’ but why does it feel so wonderfully right? Being with you feels right. All of this makes me happy. You, my dear, make me happy.”
Crowley remained silent, unable to speak.
“I need you, Crowley,” he declared, “I have always needed you.”
“Angel, I…” Crowley began, his voice filled with emotion, but before he could even finish his sentence, Aziraphale closed the gap between them, silencing him with a passionate kiss.
As they kissed, time seemed to slow down. Each brush of their lips ignited a spark of emotion that had long hid beneath the surface.
Crowley snapped his fingers, undoing all of his restraints.
Azirphale’s hands quickly found their way onto Crowley’s body as they tried to get even closer to each other.
Crowley explored every part of his angel’s body. He traced each stretch mark tenderly, before allowing his fingers to sink into his belly.
Crowley began to knead his stomach firmly, his touch bursting with affection.
Each gentle press sent ripples of happiness throughout the angel. He traveled to his thighs, pushing his hands below to feel the heavy pressure, before playfully slapping his bottom.
Crowley's hands returned back to his belly. He tugged at the light hairs that made up his happy trail.
He traced around Aziraphale’s navel before inserting a finger, causing an array of whines to erupt from the angel.
Aziraphale jolted forward and pressed him against the steering wheel. The feeling of Aziraphale’s tummy against him was absolutely euphoric.
Aziraphale reached out and took hold of Crowley's hand, their fingers entwining into a loving embrace. With their hands joined, he moved his other hand to Crowley's back, rubbing in soothing circles.
The pair's contrasting body types added a uniqueness to their closeness, creating a sense of complementary comfort. Aziraphale's plump, welcoming curves and Crowley's lean, sinuous lines seemed to meld together seamlessly, fitting together in a way that felt entirely natural and right.
When they finally parted, their breaths were ragged, and their hearts raced. They gave one another a look of understanding and recognition of the thousands of years of repressed feelings they had hidden from each other.
After their tender moment, Crowley now sat in the driver’s seat, starting his Bentley up.
Aziraphale, in the passenger seat, leaned back contently, light practically emitting from the cheerful angel. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Crowley, which made the demon blush.
“I suppose we ought to head home,” Aziraphale suggested, voice spilling with joy. “I think we had enough excitement for one day!”
Crowley nodded, trying to keep his eyes on the road as the angel beamed at him. “Agreed, angel.”
Aziraphale’s eyes brightened even more with an idea. “Oh! You know what sounds scrumptious?” He asked eagerly.
Crowley raised an eyebrow curiously. “What’s that?”
“A date at the Ritz!” Aziraphale exclaimed with enthusiasm, giving a few claps and giggles of bliss. “I’m absolutely famished!”