Grooming Lessons
Title: Grooming Lessons
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Gabriel/Crowley
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Crowley finds himself needing help with a problem never experienced by a demon before.
Notes: This story was inspired by morganoconner's Soul Deep story. Originally it was written with Castiel in mind but I found the story was drifting too close to what Morgan had written and I found myself wondering what if it was Gabriel rather than Castiel. With perfect timing, a request was made by zekkass for ' Supernatural, Gabriel/Crowley, wing grooming' and this fit the bill.
“What's so urgent?” Gabriel sighed as he appeared in Crowley’s villa. A new one, acquired since the failed Apocalypse to replace the one burned by vengeful demons. He wondered briefly if Crowley had managed to replace his tailor as easily as his home.
The former king of the crossroads turned toward him and Gabriel saw the beads of sweat on his brow. His teeth seemed to be clenched as well, something that was confirmed when the demon spoke through them.
“They itch.”
“What?” Gabriel said, blinking in confusion.
Crowley took in a deep faltering breath then there was an abrupt shimmer as the raven-black wings burst free. The demon shuddered, his expression suggesting something akin to a sexual release then he was glaring at the angel. “They itch!” He repeated.
Gabriel couldn’t help the snicker that escaped him and the demon glared harder. The former Trickster struggled to control himself.
“Well, ahhhhhh, have you … I mean …” He looked at the wings in question. “You haven’t been taking care of them properly.” He noted in dismay, wincing at the disarray of feathers, the dullness of their color.
“Taking care of them? How do you … Up until a few months ago I didn’t have wings! I thought …” Crowley half-turned his head to glare at them. “I thought they’d disappear. You know, after.”
“Yes. After.” Gabriel murmured, remembering … he shook himself free of the memories and cleared his throat. “So did I,” he admitted. “Have you … done anything with them?”
“Like what?” Crowley grumbled. “Fly?” His wings arched, seemingly without his realizing it. Even if the demon himself didn’t ache to fly, it was obvious his wings did. “How?”
There was such longing in his voice that Gabriel bit his lip. Of course, why hadn’t he thought of that? But then there had never been a demon with wings before. He shook himself.
“First we need to get those wings back in shape."
Before Crowley could even think of protesting, Gabriel was behind him, drawing his fingers through the feathers and tsking at the dust that rose from the gesture.
Crowley stiffened, his wings shivering at his touch. Automatically he spread them, new-found instinct telling him what to do as Gabriel carded his fingers purposely through them. He half-listened to Gabriel's murmurings and tongue-clickings then the fingers were pulled away. He almost groaned in disappointment as he folded his wings.
"Well?" He turned to glare at the Trickster, reflecting that he was the bastard who stuck him with wings in the first place and now he could damn well help him with them!
"Where's your shower?"
"What?" Crowley blurted out.
"Or bathtub. Swimming pool even." He sighed at the look at Crowley's face. "Haven't you ever watched birds bath? You need to wet those wings then we can get them back to proper shape."
Crowley swallowed hard, finally turning to lead the way through his villa. As they passed the windows looking out over the formal garden, Gabriel grabbed his arm.
"There! That's perfect!"
"What?" Crowley turned to follow the other's eyes to the waterfall outside. "No. No, I have a perfectly good shower …"
Gabriel snorted, half-dragging the demon from the house. "Why waste the time? Besides, I bet you won't be able to stretch your wings in it!"
"A little public, don't you think?" Crowley protested as they stopped in front of the waterfall. "And it's not that big of a waterfall."
Gabriel rolled his eyes, already peeling off his clothes. "At least you won't be hitting the walls when you stretch them out. And you don't have any neighbors. Not for miles!" Now naked, the archangel whirled. "Now come on! Strip!"
Crowley swallowed a protest concerning the help, suspecting Gabriel knew that they only came in once a week. He couldn't use the weather as an excuse either, as it was a clear summer day. Reluctantly he pulled off his clothes, draping them neatly on a nearby bench. For a moment he considered leaving on his boxers but the look Gabriel gave him had him stripping them defiantly off.
He hesitated at the waterfall's edge before stepping carefully out onto the jumble of rocks and easing under the water's spray. The feeling of water rushing over his feathers made him freeze, gasping at the sensation. His body shivered and, without conscious thought, he slipped under the fall of water, his wings spreading so the water ran over them. The last couple feet of each wing was outside the waterfall but he found that didn't matter as he half-folded then unfolded them, shivering the wings to allow each feather to dampen.
So focused was he on the feeling of water over wings that the touch of hands startled him, almost sending him into the pool. Those same hands caught him, steadied him then proceeded to work through the feathers. He could hear Gabriel humming to himself as he worked and he found himself humming in reply, spreading and turning his wings in response to gentle touches and murmured encouragement. When the hands left his wings he groaned in protest.
"Your wings are wet enough," Gabriel murmured in his ear and Crowley shivered. "Let's move into the sun." He snapped his fingers and a blanket appeared on the thick grass.
Crowley could only nod, moving carefully across the slick stones and out onto the grass. Once in the sun, he knelt, aware of the archangel kneeling behind him. The murmurs and grooming resumed and he closed his eyes, basking in the sun as knowledgeable fingers probed and caressed the damp feathers.
"A couple crinkled feathers," Gabriel sighed. "Most are just out of alignment and ... ahhhh ... some are molting."
"Molting?" Crowley opened his eyes. "Is that bad?"
The archangel hummed. "It happens." Deft fingers worked the loose feathers free and set them to one side. "You'll want to keep these in case you need them in the future."
Crowley murmured words too softly to be heard, his eyes once again closing as Gabriel caressed the bone of the left wing. The feeling of fingers in his feathers was indescribable, more arousing then any act he'd ever engaged in and in his long life he'd engaged in a lot. He sighed, his hand shifting to absently stroke his hardening cock.
Gabriel stroked his hands along the upper edge of each wing, coaxing them down to fold along the demon's side. Lips gently touched the junction of shoulder and neck and Crowley moaned, arching his head back to expose his neck. Gabriel accepted the unspoken invitation, kissing the pulse in the other's throat.
Crowley couldn't think, couldn't even grasp that an archangel was sliding his hands down to his hips, urging him up to his knees, coaxing his legs apart. Hardness pressed against his opening and Crowley keened deep in his throat as he was opened and entered. He pressed down to meet the initial thrust, feeling stretched and filled. His hand tightened on his cock and he moaned thickly.
Gabriel hummed, his wings, now visible, all shimmering white, sweeping forward to enfold the demon. The caress of Gabriel's feathers against his own sent liquid fire through his veins and he shuddered uncontrollably, crying out as the feathers caressed his skin and he arched against them. Gabriel's hands tightened on Crowley's hips, drawing him back down. Once a rhythm was set, he released him, slipping his hands around to grab Crowley's and holding them, not letting him touch himself.
Half-coherent protests spilled from Crowley's lips then he shuddered as Gabriel's wings tightened around him, the tips of his feathers caressing his skin and arching downward between his legs. His back arched and he keened helplessly, his world shrinking down to the hardness inside him and the wings wrapped tightly around him, the light touches of feathers against his fevered skin and leaking cock.
The fire built, threatening to consume him as they coupled. Somehow he managed to turn his head, his lips meeting Gabriel's and he drank in the other's sighs. The archangel moaned into his mouth, his hips stuttering against him as he released his seed into the demon's body. Crowley moaned in response, his hips jerking as he came. Gabriel's arms around him held him close, held him up as his vision darkened.
When he finally returned to himself he was on the blanket, curled on his side. Gabriel's arms were still wrapped tightly around him and he could feel the steady rise and fall of the archangel's breathing against his back. His wings were still curled loosely around the demon and Crowley could see his own wings unfolded against the archangel's. White feathers mingled with black and he shivered at the sight.
Demons don't have wings. And yet .... he reached out to tentatively stroke the mingled feathers. Black on white, white merged with black.
"I think you're stuck with them," Gabriel murmured against the back of his neck. "I'll help you get them back into shape ...
"And then you'll teach me how to fly?" Crowley meant it to be a statement, a demand even, but it came out more like a plea.
Gabriel chuckled. "Oh yes." He sighed. "I'll teach you how to fly."
Next: Conversations
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Gabriel/Crowley
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Crowley finds himself needing help with a problem never experienced by a demon before.
Notes: This story was inspired by morganoconner's Soul Deep story. Originally it was written with Castiel in mind but I found the story was drifting too close to what Morgan had written and I found myself wondering what if it was Gabriel rather than Castiel. With perfect timing, a request was made by zekkass for ' Supernatural, Gabriel/Crowley, wing grooming' and this fit the bill.
“What's so urgent?” Gabriel sighed as he appeared in Crowley’s villa. A new one, acquired since the failed Apocalypse to replace the one burned by vengeful demons. He wondered briefly if Crowley had managed to replace his tailor as easily as his home.
The former king of the crossroads turned toward him and Gabriel saw the beads of sweat on his brow. His teeth seemed to be clenched as well, something that was confirmed when the demon spoke through them.
“They itch.”
“What?” Gabriel said, blinking in confusion.
Crowley took in a deep faltering breath then there was an abrupt shimmer as the raven-black wings burst free. The demon shuddered, his expression suggesting something akin to a sexual release then he was glaring at the angel. “They itch!” He repeated.
Gabriel couldn’t help the snicker that escaped him and the demon glared harder. The former Trickster struggled to control himself.
“Well, ahhhhhh, have you … I mean …” He looked at the wings in question. “You haven’t been taking care of them properly.” He noted in dismay, wincing at the disarray of feathers, the dullness of their color.
“Taking care of them? How do you … Up until a few months ago I didn’t have wings! I thought …” Crowley half-turned his head to glare at them. “I thought they’d disappear. You know, after.”
“Yes. After.” Gabriel murmured, remembering … he shook himself free of the memories and cleared his throat. “So did I,” he admitted. “Have you … done anything with them?”
“Like what?” Crowley grumbled. “Fly?” His wings arched, seemingly without his realizing it. Even if the demon himself didn’t ache to fly, it was obvious his wings did. “How?”
There was such longing in his voice that Gabriel bit his lip. Of course, why hadn’t he thought of that? But then there had never been a demon with wings before. He shook himself.
“First we need to get those wings back in shape."
Before Crowley could even think of protesting, Gabriel was behind him, drawing his fingers through the feathers and tsking at the dust that rose from the gesture.
Crowley stiffened, his wings shivering at his touch. Automatically he spread them, new-found instinct telling him what to do as Gabriel carded his fingers purposely through them. He half-listened to Gabriel's murmurings and tongue-clickings then the fingers were pulled away. He almost groaned in disappointment as he folded his wings.
"Well?" He turned to glare at the Trickster, reflecting that he was the bastard who stuck him with wings in the first place and now he could damn well help him with them!
"Where's your shower?"
"What?" Crowley blurted out.
"Or bathtub. Swimming pool even." He sighed at the look at Crowley's face. "Haven't you ever watched birds bath? You need to wet those wings then we can get them back to proper shape."
Crowley swallowed hard, finally turning to lead the way through his villa. As they passed the windows looking out over the formal garden, Gabriel grabbed his arm.
"There! That's perfect!"
"What?" Crowley turned to follow the other's eyes to the waterfall outside. "No. No, I have a perfectly good shower …"
Gabriel snorted, half-dragging the demon from the house. "Why waste the time? Besides, I bet you won't be able to stretch your wings in it!"
"A little public, don't you think?" Crowley protested as they stopped in front of the waterfall. "And it's not that big of a waterfall."
Gabriel rolled his eyes, already peeling off his clothes. "At least you won't be hitting the walls when you stretch them out. And you don't have any neighbors. Not for miles!" Now naked, the archangel whirled. "Now come on! Strip!"
Crowley swallowed a protest concerning the help, suspecting Gabriel knew that they only came in once a week. He couldn't use the weather as an excuse either, as it was a clear summer day. Reluctantly he pulled off his clothes, draping them neatly on a nearby bench. For a moment he considered leaving on his boxers but the look Gabriel gave him had him stripping them defiantly off.
He hesitated at the waterfall's edge before stepping carefully out onto the jumble of rocks and easing under the water's spray. The feeling of water rushing over his feathers made him freeze, gasping at the sensation. His body shivered and, without conscious thought, he slipped under the fall of water, his wings spreading so the water ran over them. The last couple feet of each wing was outside the waterfall but he found that didn't matter as he half-folded then unfolded them, shivering the wings to allow each feather to dampen.
So focused was he on the feeling of water over wings that the touch of hands startled him, almost sending him into the pool. Those same hands caught him, steadied him then proceeded to work through the feathers. He could hear Gabriel humming to himself as he worked and he found himself humming in reply, spreading and turning his wings in response to gentle touches and murmured encouragement. When the hands left his wings he groaned in protest.
"Your wings are wet enough," Gabriel murmured in his ear and Crowley shivered. "Let's move into the sun." He snapped his fingers and a blanket appeared on the thick grass.
Crowley could only nod, moving carefully across the slick stones and out onto the grass. Once in the sun, he knelt, aware of the archangel kneeling behind him. The murmurs and grooming resumed and he closed his eyes, basking in the sun as knowledgeable fingers probed and caressed the damp feathers.
"A couple crinkled feathers," Gabriel sighed. "Most are just out of alignment and ... ahhhh ... some are molting."
"Molting?" Crowley opened his eyes. "Is that bad?"
The archangel hummed. "It happens." Deft fingers worked the loose feathers free and set them to one side. "You'll want to keep these in case you need them in the future."
Crowley murmured words too softly to be heard, his eyes once again closing as Gabriel caressed the bone of the left wing. The feeling of fingers in his feathers was indescribable, more arousing then any act he'd ever engaged in and in his long life he'd engaged in a lot. He sighed, his hand shifting to absently stroke his hardening cock.
Gabriel stroked his hands along the upper edge of each wing, coaxing them down to fold along the demon's side. Lips gently touched the junction of shoulder and neck and Crowley moaned, arching his head back to expose his neck. Gabriel accepted the unspoken invitation, kissing the pulse in the other's throat.
Crowley couldn't think, couldn't even grasp that an archangel was sliding his hands down to his hips, urging him up to his knees, coaxing his legs apart. Hardness pressed against his opening and Crowley keened deep in his throat as he was opened and entered. He pressed down to meet the initial thrust, feeling stretched and filled. His hand tightened on his cock and he moaned thickly.
Gabriel hummed, his wings, now visible, all shimmering white, sweeping forward to enfold the demon. The caress of Gabriel's feathers against his own sent liquid fire through his veins and he shuddered uncontrollably, crying out as the feathers caressed his skin and he arched against them. Gabriel's hands tightened on Crowley's hips, drawing him back down. Once a rhythm was set, he released him, slipping his hands around to grab Crowley's and holding them, not letting him touch himself.
Half-coherent protests spilled from Crowley's lips then he shuddered as Gabriel's wings tightened around him, the tips of his feathers caressing his skin and arching downward between his legs. His back arched and he keened helplessly, his world shrinking down to the hardness inside him and the wings wrapped tightly around him, the light touches of feathers against his fevered skin and leaking cock.
The fire built, threatening to consume him as they coupled. Somehow he managed to turn his head, his lips meeting Gabriel's and he drank in the other's sighs. The archangel moaned into his mouth, his hips stuttering against him as he released his seed into the demon's body. Crowley moaned in response, his hips jerking as he came. Gabriel's arms around him held him close, held him up as his vision darkened.
When he finally returned to himself he was on the blanket, curled on his side. Gabriel's arms were still wrapped tightly around him and he could feel the steady rise and fall of the archangel's breathing against his back. His wings were still curled loosely around the demon and Crowley could see his own wings unfolded against the archangel's. White feathers mingled with black and he shivered at the sight.
Demons don't have wings. And yet .... he reached out to tentatively stroke the mingled feathers. Black on white, white merged with black.
"I think you're stuck with them," Gabriel murmured against the back of his neck. "I'll help you get them back into shape ...
"And then you'll teach me how to fly?" Crowley meant it to be a statement, a demand even, but it came out more like a plea.
Gabriel chuckled. "Oh yes." He sighed. "I'll teach you how to fly."
Next: Conversations