here is a delightfully trashy fic idea

[dragonlady7]

two?, anyway, good omens

via https://ift.tt/3n5RMIz

ed note: i just found this in my drafts from like….. close to two years ago? anyway it seems a shame to delete it. I have no memory of this and wonder where that draft went.

I published this https://archiveofourown.org/works/19883884 instead, which is fine but has almost nothing in common with this idea, LOL.

(for Good Omens) I brainstormed this wonderfully filthy wallowy id-tastic fic and even semi-outlined it and then I tried to write it and I’ve got literally 5,000 words with three scene-cuts and zero smut and have wildly deviated from the idea, so I’m just going to release this summary free to a good home so I don’t feel like I have to try to wrestle whatever the fuck I’m writing back on course. It’s not going, it won’t do it. Someone else can write it, if they want, and please do and tell me when you do because I want to read it, but I absolutely am not equal to the task of writing it.

It’s wonderfully angst-filled smut with mutual pining, which is like, my catnip, and it’s nice and dirty, which I also like, and yet somehow, I just can’t do it.

(Seriously, it’s been a thousand years and Aziraphale is meditating on free will. For fuck’s sake.)

So here’s the premise. I got as far as literally the first paragraph here, and then the whole thing went off the rails, so. Mine’s something else now.

Pretty early on in their acquaintance, pre-Arrangement, Aziraphale stumbles across Crowley in a bad neighborhood among prostitutes, who have recently invented their trade. Aziraphale is righteously offended by the concept, and Crowley defends it, and Aziraphale assumes Crowley invented it for the humans, and of course he did not.

At any rate, in the course of their discussion (during which Crowley is wile-y [though there’s some great potential for an unreliable narrator here, where the angel is perceiving the demon as being far more seductive than he is actually trying to be, because he is attracted to him and doesn’t understand that] and Aziraphale is righteously but confusedly Into It despite himself), Crowley winds up giving him a demonstration of just what it is that’s so great and why humans would choose this sort of thing of their own free will rather than being demonically wiled into it.

There’s a humorous instant where they’re both suddenly terrified that angelic emissions might have a holy-water-like effect, but they don’t, and after that moment’s terrified pause during which Crowley doesn’t dissolve and Aziraphale doesn’t get Smitten By Divine Wrath, Crowley dusts off his knees and Aziraphale puts his bits away and they go their separate ways in a sort of mutual well-that-got-out-of-hand embarrassment, each intending never to speak of it again.

Which lasts a while, but not really. Sure, most of their meetings can stay respectable, but every so often, Aziraphale just happens on Crowley in an alley looking shady or whatever, and they wind up repeating it, and Aziraphale tells himself he’s just diverting the demon so he doesn’t tempt any humans, and has zero clue that Crowley is only doing this for him, isn’t actually using his body to tempt humans at all, only shows up in those places because he knows Aziraphale’s going there looking for him in that moment.

Potential here for a wonderfully sleazy dynamic, of Crowley always passively receiving, taking whatever Aziraphale will give, very clearly not seeking his own sexual gratification at all in this, and Aziraphale never really contemplating just what it is that Crowley’s after instead. (Except maybe in his darker hours thinking the demon is trying to seduce him to Fall, or something, and being a real self-righteous dick about it sometimes.) Maybe, eventually, at some point, Crowley lets it slip that what he gets out of this is that when Aziraphale fucks him he can feel divine Grace again, or something like it, and it gratifies him on an entirely different level than the physical. Maybe he says so and Aziraphale doesn’t understand it, or refuses to really contemplate it.

Or maybe Aziraphale does get it, and then he’s even worse; instead of being self-righteous about Crowley trying to tempt him, he’s kind of horribly pitying about it, and it’s gross, and Crowley attempts to quit but can’t actually make it stick and before he knows it he’s lurking in the back rooms of clubs again when he knows Aziraphale’s just wandered in the front door. (Potential here for wonderfully juicy angsty sleazy scene of Crowley getting absolutely railed in a pub toilet by a complete stranger he’s trying to pretend is Aziraphale, and then slinking in a desperate haze of lust on his knees to the angel begging for the sacrament only Aziraphale can really give him.) (Right? Right? Argh, I wish I could write this story.) (What I’ve got so far is all strict close Az POV and it’s almost better because you’d only indirectly get that that’s what Crowley’s just done; A would just assume Crowley’d been off doing his demonic job instead of trying desperately to break his addiction.) (Your picture was not posted)