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that-reading-geek · 3 months

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Broken guitar strings

Crowley x Aziraphale, sugar daddy au, human au

Chapter one

Contains nsfw scenes

Posted on A03

Summary: Crowley realises he is struggling for money more than he thought and consults his best friend, who hooks him up with a sugar daddy.

(I hope this is okay, it's my first time posting soemthing so long on here! Enjoy the first chapter :3)

Crowley, simply put, was broke. A struggling musician with an unhealthy obsession with his plants and parents that refused to acknowledge his existence, he was living pay check to pay check, saving what little he had left in the event of a bad gig or a broken guitar string.

When he wasn’t busking in tube station entryways or performing in empty bars, he was working in the coffee shop a couple of streets from his apartment. The shop was small but had decent foot traffic and, being in Soho, the tips were plentiful. He had gotten used to the regulars, memorising their orders so the drinks were ready to go before the customer had even stepped foot through the doors. Crowley was charming to all of the customers, which helped him a great deal in the tip department, but there was a particular customer that, no matter his mood, always brought a smile upon the barristers face, and never failed to make him chuckle. He had spotted said customer exiting his bookshop across the road, and had his drink ready for when he undoubtedly stepped foot into the shop.

“Good morning Mr Fell,” Nina, the Coffee shops owner, called from behind the counter as Crowley added the finishing touches to Mr Fell's drink.

“Good morning Nina,” the man replied cheerily as he made his way to where Crowley was standing, “and Good morning my dear.”

“Mornin’ Mr Fell, one hot chocolate for you, extra marshmallows,” Crowley smiled, sliding the drink over.

“Oh marvellous,” Mr Fell beamed, picking up his drink and tapping his debit card to the reader. He took a sip and hummed contently, “perfect as always, thank you Dear.”

Crowley couldn’t help but rake his eyes over Mr Fell. The man was wearing his usual shirt and waistcoat, with his silly tartan bow tie and long coat. He didn’t appear to be much older than Crowley, who had recently turned 28, his hair was a natural near-white, and the lines around his eyes and mouth showed years of cheerful grins and happy smiles.

As he met Mr Fells eyes, the man smiled at him, before going through his wallet and sticking a £10 note into the tip jar. They stared at each other momentarily, before Mr Fell dipped his head.

“Thank you dear,” he said softly, before going and sitting in a booth, bringing his laptop out and working silently.

Crowley had gone back to his apartment after his shift. The place was dingy, with rickety stairs and chipping paint at every turn. He left his bag by the door after clicking it closed, kicking his shoes off and slumping onto the couch with a sigh. He stared at his guitar on its stand across the room, groaning at the very idea of performing tonight, but convinced himself that the show must go on, no matter how much he wanted to curl up in bed and sleep.

By 10pm he was at the same pub he spent every other night in, setting up a stool and doing sound check. He hummed softly as he strummed the strings a few times, before sitting and tapping the mic to gather the limited audience’s attention.

“Hey guys, uh, Crowley back again, I take requests if anyone wants to hear anything, enjoy,” he said awkwardly into the mic. No matter how many times he did this same routine, the awkwardness that came with the job never seemed to disappear, it was like a package deal.

He played a couple of songs, taking a few requests from one person in the crowd who seemed to be the only one actually paying attention to him, other than his personal cheerleader who sat at the bar. He made his way over after collecting the few tips he’d received and sat beside his best friend.

“Well done, I loved the third one,” Bee said, sliding a drink over to him.

“Yeah, can’t say the same about everyone else here,” he said, taking an uninterested sip, before grimacing, “What is this?”

“G&T,” Bee shrugged, “I’ll have it if you don’t want it.”

“Never said that,” Crowley said defensively, taking another sip of his drink.

Bee always turned up to each of his shows, occasionally buying him a drink to take the edge off. They’d known each other for a long time, Bee had always encouraged him to pursue his passions, and he had always returned the favour.

“How was work?” They asked.

“Eh, work, got decent tips though.”

“Enough to afford a better place?”

Crowley gave them a deadpan look, “No, doubt that’ll be happening any time soon, stop bringing it up.”

Bee shrugged and took a sip of their own drink, “wouldn’t be a problem if you...” they trailed off.

“No, shut up, not happening,” he said through gritted teeth. Bee held their hands up in defence.

Crowley groaned and stood up, finishing his drink. He made some excuse about having to water his plants and made his leave, with Bee laughing at his awkward departure.

The musician got home and left his guitar and bag on the couch before trudging to the bathroom to remove the smudged eyeliner he had worn for the show. He splashed some water on his face and made his way to bed, flopping down and neglecting to change out of his jeans in favour of falling asleep at that very second.

The next morning was a Saturday, and Crowley had the day off. He rolled out of bed at 11am, finally changing into more comfortable clothes and leaving the ones from last night in a pile on the floor. His thin blanket had done little to keep him warm during the night, and now all he felt like doing was taking a lovely warm shower and making some French toast.

He went to the bathroom and started the shower, waiting for it to heat up and found himself standing there for far too long. Giving up on the shower, he went to the kitchenette to find some bread and butter. He was once again disappointed at what he found: no butter and half a loaf of mouldy bread.

Crowley hated himself for what he did next, pulling out his phone and opening Bee’s contact.

Crowley

Remember what we spoke about last night?

The thing I refused.

Bee 🐝

Yeasssss?

Second thoughts????

Crowley

Maybe...

Bee 🐝

What pushed u over the edge?

Crowley

Mouldy bread and a cold shower.

Bee 🐝

I’ll give Gabe ur number, he’ll be delighted to find someone 4 u

Crowley

Great.

Gabriel, or Gabe, was Bee’s Partner, or more specifically, their sugar daddy. Bee used the term lightly, and Crowley was used to their dynamic, he never judged Bee and their way of income wouldn’t change that. He had met Gabe a few times, he was a nice man, and looked after Bee well, always treating them to dinner whenever they asked.

Crowley never thought his desperation would get this far, but he was slowly getting more helpless and his growling stomach would thank him, even if it meant sacrificing his dignity.

A message from an unknown number popped up on his phone, and he hesitated before opening it.

Unknown number

Hello Crowley, this is Gabriel, Bee said you were interested and gave me your number to have a chat? Wanna meet up at the park and you can meet a friend of mine. I’ll bring Bee with me.

Crowley

Mm, yeah, when and where?

Gabriel 💷

St.james’ at 4 work for you?

Crowley

Yeah sounds good, see you then.

Crowley groaned and pocketed his phone, before heading to his closet and finding a decent shirt and pair of jeans to change into. He got changed, applying a little bit of makeup, just eyeliner and concealer, and tried to make his hair look at least a little bit more like he hadn’t just rolled out of bed. He slid his sunglasses onto his face and grabbed his guitar. Crowley knew if would take a little while to get to the park, but he still had a couple of hours until their meeting time, but there was nothing to do here and he always liked a walk anyway.

He left his apartment and made his way through the city towards St James’s Park and found a spot beneath a tree to bring his guitar from its case and practise a few chords.

A couple of hours passed before he received a text from Bee asking where he was. He simply responded with a photo of the pop-up coffee cart he was opposite and waited for them to arrive.

“Crowley!” He lifted his head when he heard Bee call his name.

They were holding Gabe’s hand and dragging the man along with them. Crowley stood and put his guitar away in its case, before carefully leaning it against the tree he was underneath.

Gabriel extended his hand that wasn’t clutching Bee’s to Crowley and the musician shook it awkwardly. He tried to look behind Gabe, as though the friend he had told him about was somehow lurking behind him, yet to be seen.

Gabe chuckled and withdrew his hand from Bee, much to their disappointment. “My friend will be here in a moment, how does coffee sound whilst we wait?”

“Oh I cant... afford...”

Crowley was shocked when Gabe laughed loudly, before kissing Bee on the head and saying “Your friend is funny Dear,” he said with a smile, “I’ll buy you a coffee Crowley.”

Crowley scowled to hide his embarrassment before telling Gabriel his coffee order: black with as many sugars as the place allowed. The older man went to buy the three of them Coffee whilst Bee stood with Crowley so the two of them could talk.

“Is it weird?” Crowley started with.

“Is what weird?”

“Having a sugar daddy, does it not feel... strange?."

Bee looked at Gabe softly, who was waiting for the coffee, “It does at first, I felt guilty when Gabe and I were first.. yknow, but I got used to it. I still apologise every now and then, but he’s so sweet, he always makes me feel better when I feel guilty.

“Yknow, this sort of thing doesn’t always have to be sex, Gabriel’s paid me for just hanging out with him, you just need to discuss everything when it all starts, and set your boundaries.”

Crowley nodded a little. He remembered when Bee had first met Gabriel and they had refused to spend any of the money Gabe had given them out of pure guilt. It wasn’t until Gabriel took them out shopping that they actually spent it. He remembered how Bee had bought him the same pair of sunglasses he still wore to this day, and how happy they’d been after spending the day with Gabe. The two had shared their first kiss outside of the bedroom that day, and Bee was on the moon for many days after.

“Talk to me, talk to Gabriel if you need to, we’ll both help you with whatever decisions or whatever you might need,” Bee said softly, patting him on the shoulder.

Gabe returned with everyone’s coffees and the three of them sat on the ground together making small discussion.

It wasn’t until Gabe interrupted his own sentence that the conversation came to a halt.

“Aziraphale! Glad you’re here my friend,” the man grinned, causing Crowley to look up to see who he was talking to.

“Hello Gabriel, Bee, I am sorry I’m late,” the other man, Aziraphale, said as he stood above the group. He turned to Crowley and smiled a very charming smile. “Hello Dear, I wasn’t expecting to see your face.”

Crowley stared dumbstruck at the man in front of him, a man whom he recognised far too well. When he finally managed to find his words, all he could force himself to say was “ngh... uh, neither...”

Aziraphale smiled and carefully sat with the rest of the group, turning to Gabriel, who spoke before anyone else could. “You know each other?”

Aziraphale nodded, “Oh yes, this young man serves me almost every day at that darling coffee shop I told you about.”

It was at that moment that the man he knew as Mr Fell didn’t even know his name, despite the name tag he had pinned to his apron every day.

“Oh marvellous!” Gabriel said excitedly, “Well that may make things easier for you both then, Crowley here is looking for a sugar daddy, I knew you two would be a perfect match.”

Aziraphale beamed and turned to Crowley, “Yes I think we might just be,” he giggled, “how about we all go to dinner? And talk there? Then perhaps Mr Crowley and I can discuss this further.”

Crowley nodded numbly and Gabriel stood, pulling Bee up with him. He called a car for the four of them after the 2 older men had decided where to eat, Bee sat practically on Gabe’s lap in the car, the both of them chatting idly between them and leaving the other two to awkwardly make conversation.

“When Gabriel said he had a potential client for me, I wasn’t expecting to see my Barista,” Aziraphale said after a few moments of sitting in silence.

Crowley refused to meet his eyes and didn’t reply. Aziraphale cleared his throat awkwardly and continued.

“I’m sorry if this is awkward for you, we don’t have to go through with it if you’re uncomfortable, I won’t be offended.”

Crowley finally lifted his head but didn’t look him in the eyes, “ngk- Mr Fell, I don’t... sorry, I’m actually rather glad that it’s you, I just feel embarrassed,” he confessed. “This is new to me, so I’m a bit... overwhelmed.”

Aziraphale’s gaze softened and he gently took Crowley’s hand in his own, “It’s okay my dear... we can discuss everything over dinner and you don’t even have to decide then, we’ll go at your pace and I’ll be sure to communicate properly, as long as you promise to do the same.”

Crowley finally lifted his eyes to look at him and smiled, “okay...” he said quietly, before pausing momentarily and saying, “...you’re paying for dinner right? Because there’s no way I can affor-“

Aziraphale cut him off with a laugh, “Yes dear! Of course I’m paying for dinner.”

Crowley nodded and visibly relaxed, sitting back in his seat. He glanced down at where his hand was still held in Aziraphale’s and slowly took it back, shooting the man an apologetic smile before folding his hands in his own lap.

The restaurant was much more posh than Crowley was used to, but by the way the other 3 acted, and how the staff talked to Gabriel, he assumed they were regulars here, and suddenly felt very out of place.

Aziraphale was in his normal attire of shirt and bow tie, Gabriel had dressed in almost all white, he looked handsome and expensive, and even Bee seemed to fit in, their albeit alternative style still seemed to blend in well to the atmosphere of the room, and Crowley stuck out like a sore thumb.

The four were led to a booth, and Crowley took this opportunity to hide his dishevelled self as far from public view as possible. Aziraphale sat next to him with the couple opposite, and Bee sat back as Gabriel picked up the menu.

“Are you alright if I order for you my bumblebee?” Gabriel asked Bee softly, putting an arm around them. They nodded and picked up the desert menu, before suggesting brownies and ice cream for desert, which Gabe agreed to.

“What would you like Dear?” Aziraphale said, breaking Crowley from staring at the couple ahead of him.

“Uh, whatever’s cheapest is fine, ‘m not picky,” he mumbled, shrinking back into himself.

“Nonsense, there must be something on here that takes your fancy,” Aziraphale proclaimed, leaning over to show Crowley the menu. “Ooh the steak sounds lovely, or even the chicken sounds delightful, I’m going to get some sushi, does anything sound good to you?”

“Mr Fell all I’ve eaten in the past few weeks is packet Mac and Cheese, literally anything sounds good,” Crowley said bluntly, before blushing and looking away.

Aziraphale simply smiled softly and nodded, “How about I pick something for you and you can tell me if you like it or not?”

Crowley looked up at him and nodded, uttering a small ‘sounds good’. Aziraphale grinned, clearly delighted and listed off a few things, all of which Crowley agreed to, although slightly hesitantly. As Aziraphale called over the waitress to place their orders, Bee leaned over the table and plucked Crowley’s sunglasses from his face.

“We’re inside Crowley, table manners,” the scorned playfully, ignoring his protest.

“You say that like you didn’t used to put your feet up on the table when we would go out,” he bit back, though not a hint of aggression was present in his tone. He took his glasses back, but folded them on the table.

Gabe shot Bee a look to which they rolled their eyes at, “I don’t do it anymore,” they mumbled, and the others at the table laughed.

As the table waited for their food to arrive, they discussed Bee and Gabe’s contract, so Crowley would be informed on what sort of thing to expect should he and Aziraphale go ahead with the dynamic.

The food, when it arrived, was delightful, and Crowley enjoyed it thoroughly. He tried not to shovel his food down too quickly, but his rumbling belly tried to convince him to do otherwise. He’d gotten about halfway through his meal when he realised eating so much food after eating very little for so long was probably not the best idea, and the nauseating feeling that accompanied his full stomach made him halt mid fork-full.

“Are you alright dear?” Aziraphale said softly, and Crowley only nodded.

The musician reached for his drink and finished the glass of OJ he’d ordered. He sat back, allowing his food to settle as he wished the nausea to dissipate. He’d never forgive himself if he’d forced a stranger he hardly knew to pay for a large and expensive meal just for him to not finish it. Deciding to distract himself, he initiated conversation.

“So you would pay me for... well sex?” He clarified.

“Yes dear, and other things, like... spending the day awith me, or running errands, attending parties,” Aziraphale said softly, “I’d never make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with of course, but you need the money... and I like the company, its a win-win situation honestly.”

Crowley smiled and nodded, taking a bite of his food now that his stomach had settled slightly. He couldn’t help but hum in delight at the thought of being able to afford somewhere nicer to live, and of course, spending time with a handsome man for more than 2 minutes a day would be a bonus. He shifted his weight slightly and found himself leaning closer to Aziraphale. The other man cautiously rested his hand upon Crowley’s knee, letting out a questioning hum.

“’ Guess it wouldn’t... hurt to try,” Crowley reasoned, mostly with himself, but he didn’t find himself recoiling from the man’s affectionate touch.

“After dinner,” Aziraphale started, “we should head back to mine, and discuss this further, does that sound good?”

Crowley nodded and smiled up at him, “sounds perfect."

As promised, after dinner Aziraphale ordered Crowley and himself an Uber back to his bookshop. They both headed inside and Aziraphale locked the door behind them. He lead the younger man to the couch and offered him some coffee, of which Crowley accepted gratefully. The two sat drinking their beverages and discussing the terms of their newfound agreement.

They came to the conclusion that Crowley would come to his bookshop on his days off from work, and they would spend the day together, whether that be simply keeping Aziraphale company whilst he worked, or making him tea as he read. They agreed that sex would not be a necessity, but neither were opposed to the idea. Aziraphale mentioned during their talk that, at any parties he and Crowley may attend together (as part of work of course), that ‘pda’ may be necessary, but never forced, and Crowley seemed enthusiastic at the idea.

“How do I address you?” Aziraphale said as they drew to the end of the conversation.

“m? Oh, Crowley’s fine, none of that ‘Mr’ bullshit, pet names are cool too I guess, he/him whatever.”

“Well then that works fine my Dear, as for you, I’d rather you called me Aziraphale than ‘Mr Fell’, far too proper for me, and of course any other nicknames you see fit, just not the D word...”

Crowley grinned at that, “What? Daddy?” He laughed when Aziraphale cringed, “Ironic,” he snorted, “I’ll think of something for you.”

“Marvellous.”

The two talked some more, about everything and nothing at the same time. Crowley talked about his plants and Aziraphale listened with a fond smile on his face, in return talking about his books and other hobbies. The two found themselves laughing about god knows what, and soon Crowley was half on top of Aziraphale, the older man’s arm around his waist comfortably.

Crowley giggled, much to his distaste, and curled in closer to Aziraphale until their noses were nearly touching and the only comfortable position for his hands were the man’s chest. He felt Aziraphale squeeze his hip affectionately, the conversation fizzing into silence as they stared at each other, breaths mingling in a dance of pure sexual attraction.

Before either of them could speak, Aziraphale’s hands and slid up Crowley’ shirt, ghosting over his skin in delicate, flittering touches. Crowley’s own hands had founds their ways to Aziraphale’s belt, before they were both crashing their lips together in a frenzied kiss of passion and need.

Crowley quickly moved to unbuckle Aziraphale’s belt, pulling away from the kiss momentarily to focus on what he was doing. He managed to get it open before Aziraphale was stilling his hands, and he froze, wondering if he’d gone too far.

“You don’t have to do that Darling- if you don’t want to...” he said softly. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go further with Crowley, he just didn’t want Crowley to feel pressured after they’d only just discussed their terms, especially after he’d bought him dinner earlier.

“I want to,” Crowley blurted, squeezing Aziraphale’s hand, “you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he confessed.

Aziraphale smiled and pressed a kiss to his temple, before uttering softly, “be my guest then dear boy.”

Crowley grinned and hastily unbuttoned and unzipped Aziraphale’s slacks, the older man lifting his hips so Crowley could pull the trousers down to his ankles. He ran his hands up Aziraphale’s thighs, squeezing the flesh and admiring the sight before him. The musician leant down to press kisses to the man’s thighs, worshipping each as thought they belonged to an angel. He trailed his kisses up as his hands followed suit, toying at the waistband of white briefs that hid a rather large monstrosity he couldn’t wait to get his lips around.

Crowley shuffled down to be kneeling on the floor, accepting the cushion that Aziraphale passed him to settle under his knees. The older man ran a hand through Crowley’s hair and mussed the strands slightly, his pale fingers lost in the sea of red. Crowley delicately pulled Aziraphale from his briefs, marvelling over the weight in his hand. He couldn’t help but stare, but a light encouraging tug at his hair broke him from his awestruck trance in order to slowly kiss up Aziraphale’s hardening dick.

Kissing the tip, Crowley looked up at Aziraphale through his eyelashes and slowly took him in his mouth. He bobbed his head slowly, squeezing Aziraphale’s thighs affectionately. The man above him groaned in pleasure as Crowley worked, Aziraphale tried to keep his hands gentle on the musicians hair, but Crowley would be lying if he said he didn’t like the idea of Aziraphale pulling his hair properly. The weight of Aziraphale’s prick was heavy on his tongue, swallowing around it he tried to take him as far as his throat would allow him.

Crowley wouldn’t say he was inexperienced as he would say ‘out of practise’. The last time he had a long term boyfriend was in his earlier 20’s, and he hadn’t really hooked up with many men since his last relationship. Even when he did, the deed was quick, either a hand job or a quick fuck and he was out of there, there was no grace or romance about it, just something to satisfy both parties. His deep throating abilities were hardly what they used to be, but Crowley was certain, especially with a cock as big as Aziraphale’s, he’d build up to it again in time.

He pulled off of Aziraphale and jerked him off slowly, he gently kissed the tip and took him in his mouth once more. Aziraphale was bucking into his mouth as Crowley forced his head down as far as he could, and he gagged slightly as the head hit the back of his throat. Aziraphale tried to utter an apology, but Crowley simply squeezed his thigh in silent assurance that he was fine. He could feel Aziraphale practically melt in his hands as he continued his gentle assault, pre-cum leaking from his tip and staining Crowley’s tongue. The salty taste was almost foreign in his mouth, but he found himself swallowing it down as though he was starving for more.

When Aziraphale reached his climax his grip on Crowley’s hair tightened. He gave no warning as he came down Crowley’s throat, the musician choking momentarily in the process. He pulled off, swallowing and awkwardly wiping his mouth, before laughing softly.

“Warn a guy next time,” he teased.

“Sorry Darling...” Aziraphale mumbled sheepishly, gently petting his now completely messed up hair. He gently pulled Crowley up into his lap and held the man close, putting himself away in the process. Crowley rested his head on Aziraphale’s chest and closed his eyes, ignoring the aching between his own legs in favour of post-orgasm cuddles.

“How about we get a shower and continue our conversation in bed?” Aziraphale hummed softly, stroking his hair. Crowley simply nodded and allowed Aziraphale to scoop him into his arms and take him to bed.

#ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #GO smut #good omens #smut #sugar daddy au #human au #non binary beelzebub #mlm

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