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The Nectar of the Gods

Chapter Text

Angels and Demons have an exceedingly long memory.

But even among facts and figures, some things can become lost in myth and legend. 

The thing to remember about Ambrosia, being the “nectar (essentially, nectarine) of the Gods,” it has certain inherent properties. Now it’s not always apparent what that means when it comes to thinks like edibles.  Especially when you have only the one account, and it’s so very old at this point.  Typically, when an Angel says something, because Angels don’t lie, everyone believes them. It doesn’t portend an Angel exaggerating though, which is, in short, exactly what happened.

The account went thus.  Ambrosia cause “uncontrollable fits, limbs unable to do my bidding, wings acting of their own accord, and I don’t entirely remember what happened next, but I awoke as if from a tiring work.” 

And so, Ambrosia was deemed one of the trickiest holy fruits, and blatant “no-no” for anyone of a celestial body.

 

399 B.C.

Aziraphale was just back from his jaunt to Greece.  Oh, what a spirited time that was!  There were skeletons of all things, and they’d wanted to fight him!  Well, he made quick work of them.  Clued in Azrael, Angel of Death, and just let her sort it all out.  She seemed glad of the side trip, and thanked him.

Upon arriving back, having delivered the Golden Fleece to it’s appropriate Kingly Warrior, he quickly stole away to his home, where he removed three golden fruits from their hiding place and set them on his table.  He blinked in the sudden glare. This wouldn’t do, they were glowing far too brightly.  Best put them in a safer place.

Aziraphale did as much research as he could into Ambrosia, but the accounts varied so vastly.  Ambrosia was said to give the gods strength and meaning, but honestly, whenever people put it that way, it turned out to be humans who thought these things.  Gods, typically from what he could find, would simply laugh at them. Humans, all talk.

Still, there was that one account from that long long ago Angel.  So it made the fruit a bit of a tetchy subject in heaven.  Even Gabriel suggested cautious.  “Do not pluck the fruits and, for heavens sake, don’t eat any of it!” he’d warned.

His mission was to simply get the fleece and be on his way. But all Aziraphale knew was that he’d come upon a tree with these glowing fruits and, while he remembered the account, curiosity got the better of him. They looked so pretty …

Aziraphale remembered thinking Ambrosia had to be nothing like it was described.  After all, it was only a fruit!  He couldn’t help but think of his Demon counterpart, wondering what Crowley would say, as he’d extended his hands, one to grab the fleece and the other to grab Ambrosia and snapped it back to his home, quick as a flash.

 

389 B.C.

10 years later and Aziraphale still marveled that the fruit remained as ripe as they day he plucked it.  He’d waffled on whether or not to eat them straight away, but honestly he wasn’t sure it was a good idea to do it … unsupervised. He carefully put them back in their hiding place.

 

1516 A.D.

“No,” Crowley gasped. “I thought you said it was just a routine mission!”

“It was,” Aziraphale smirked, letting the drink move him a little too far forward. “And the paperwork I filed with heaven confirms that.”

“You lying liar,” Crowley said, his words slurring, but meeting his companions smile with pride.

“I popped them back home before anyone was the wiser.” His smile was infections. Aziraphale looked around and then, moving some things, produced a basket, which he handed to Crowley.

Opening the basket, he could see that whatever was under the blanket inside was positively glowing. “Have you tried one yet?” Crowley mumbled in awe. He lifted the lid, and it was like looking straight at the Sun. He thought a silent grateful prayer that he was still wearing his sunglasses.

Aziraphale squirmed a little.  “I think… I rather think I was waiting for… company.” He looked at him, almost defiantly.  “Afterall, you know what they say about,” and he cleared his throat, “Well, you know. But I thought having someone to try it with me might be… smart.  Allow me to… tempt you?”

Crowley’s eyebrows raised.  “Best not.” He said.

“But… but why not?” Aziraphale deflated somewhat.

Crowley sighed. “Well, I’m definitely unworthy of them, ain’t I? Who knows what they would do to me.”

Aziraphale frowned.  “Well, would you mind a little experiment then? What if I try it and we just… see what happens?”

Crowley’s smile was back, as he leaned the basket towards the Angel. “Well, here you are then,” and his eyes seemed to burn into Aziraphale’s soul.

Chapter Text

Crowley crossed his long legs and watched as Aziraphale miracle’d a table from out of nowhere, complete with linens, plates, and silverware, and a nice big wine goblet.  (The quite little hovel, where Aziraphale spent most of his time, was pretty cluttered already with knickknacks, but the Angel liked his creature comforts after all.)

He picked up one of the pears and placed it on his plate, daintily cutting it into small cubes. Sighing, he finally stabbed one with his fork, and just before nibbling it, he said “Well, down the hatch,” with a spirited smile.

If Crowley didn’t know any better, he might have thought that he saw a look of horror come across Aziraphale’s face.  “Angel?”

But soon his features settled into disappointment.  “It’s…” he said chewing, “It tastes like a…” He seemed to be testing it in his mouth.  “Hard to say.”

“The nectar of the Gods has a taste that’s hard to describe, is it?” Crowley smirked.

“Yes, well no, well,” he sighed and swallowed.  He shrugged and took another bite.  “Maybe it’s too old, it doesn’t taste… ethereal, it’s more like a plum than anything I suppose, perhaps suffused with strawberries? Still tasty to be sure, though.”

On the third bite, Crowley thought he saw something off about the Angel’s pallor.  He took off his glasses to study his friend.  Blinking to see Aziraphale’s ethereal form, it looked as though it was changing. Was he… glowing? 

He cleared his throat.  “Um, Angel, how do you feel?” Best not to alarm him yet.

“I feel… the same…” he said, even more deflated.  Then Crowley saw it, something that looked like fire, engulfing his Angel’s true form. It was glorious, but fast and terrifying. The Angel himself simply dropped his fork and looked at him. “Crowley?” he said, still looking more piqued than he should.

“Aziraphale?”

“You may have to um, catch me,” he said, standing suddenly, but then losing his balance. 

Crowley did catch him, as much as he was able.  “How do you feel now?” he said, half sprawled on the floor underneath Aziraphale, trying not to let his hyperventilation betray his calm demeanor.

The Angel looked worried.  “I’m not entirely sure,” he gasped.  “I do feel… something...”

He had just enough time to gasp before the Angel’s wings manifested on their own, knocking the Demon completely out of the way.  They took Aziraphale up all around the small room, and then promptly out into the night sky.  Crowley swallowed and followed him. He could hear him more than see him, zooming around up there, yelping when he lost some altitude suddenly, but if Crowley didn’t know any better, he’d swear he was giggling.

Up and up into the black went his Angel and then, with a whoosh, he landed back to earth, perfectly in front of Crowley, grinning like anything. “Hello,” he said, politely, the smile absolutely plastered to his face.  He swayed a little, reminding Crowley of their drunk moments, only this time Aziraphale was looking his Demon up and down with a wanton stare Crowley’d only dreamt of.

“Aziraphale?”

“Quite,” he said, giggling.  Yes, definitely giggling, “Oof,” and also suddenly, unexpectedly, clinging to the Demon for support. “Definitely me. I dare say more me than I’ve ever known me to be. Wouldn’t you agree?” his eyes flashed with mischief.  His hand had started on Crowley’s shoulder and was now working its way up to the nap of his neck.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley repeated, haltingly. “Come inside, you might need to lie down.”  Aziraphale gave a pleasant little hum as he let Crowley lead him inside. “Is everything – ”

“Absolutely,” he twinkled, making his way to his original seat.  “How are you?”

Crowley stayed standing, put on his glasses, and then went into a rage. “How am I?”

Aziraphale nodded, emphatically. Crowley twisted away from him. “What’s wrong, Crowley?”

“What’s wrong? WHAT’S – Look you, I don’t know who you think you are, but you just did something brash and impulsive and quite… alarming, and I’d thank you to explain yourself.”

Aziraphale blinked sharply, but the grin never wavered. “Oh Crowley, it’s really rather hard to explain.” And he was up again, pacing, his words coming far too rapidly. “It’s almost like I’ve been sleeping for five thousand years and then suddenly,” and he snapped, “Let there be Light,” and there was a spot light in the hovel, brightening every corner. “Whoops,” he said and snapped again, putting it out again. “Got carried away, there, where was I. Ah,” and he advanced on his friend. “You see, Crowley, my absolutely dearest fallen friend,” and he watched as Crowley huffed at that, “But that is what you are,” at Crowley’s glare, Aziraphale laughed and continued, “I am me! I’m so quite free to –”

“Enough… with the rhyming,” said Crowley removing his glasses again to pinch the bridge of his nose. He also took this opportunity to pierce the vale once again and could see nothing but white-hot light emanating from Aziraphale, holy brilliant light. Now, the Angel’s true form had always had a certain halo around it of course, he was a principality after all, but Crowley had never seen anything like this, not since he was in the presence of…

It was the blink of an eye, as he went to replace is glasses, that Aziraphale took them away and coveted them behind his back. Crowley sneered, but the Angel was undeterred. He made a grab for them but was too slow and Aziraphale side stepped him easily. He then moved away, wiggling them for Crowley to give chase. Crowley straighten, “Now see here, Aziraphale, I think that’s something wrong.”

Aziraphale scoffed, “Nothing of the sort, I feel, amazing,” and he actually spun on the spot.  Crowley swallowed a laugh as he made for another grab at his glasses before Aziraphale, again too fast, put them on his own face.  “Why on earth to do you hide behind these? I always thought your eyes to be the most beautiful.”

Crowley actually snarled at his friend, angered, and slammed his hand on the table. “Stop!” Aziraphale did stop, practically frozen in place. “Give it,” Crowley said, offering an open palm and Aziraphale dropped them into it, but not before grabbing at Crowley’s hand too, with all the ceremony he could must, which was a great deal, gave a long bow and kiss Crowley knuckles.

Now it was Crowley’s turn to freeze in place. “Angel, What are you –“

Aziraphale, again quicker than Crowley had ever seen him, quite suddenly, was the only thing Crowley could see. “Shh,” he said, “No more talking, I think we’ve done enough talking for a while,” and he gently cupped Crowley’s face, and kissed him full on the lips.

Chapter Text

The kiss was not as tentative as Crowley had imagined kissing Aziraphale would be. It was warm, and subtle, and took it’s time. Curious and gentle, the way his lips pressed, firmly, and then moved to open both of their mouths and explore. Once their tongues met, it was like opening up a dam within Crowley.  Something deep inside him burned and uncoiled, and Crowley chided himself when a small gasp escaped him.

He wasn’t sure when his eyes had closed, but they were. The two of them stood for a moment, locked in the sweetness and grace of it, until finally Crowley pulled away, panting, which was silly, it’s not like he even needed air.

Aziraphale didn’t let him get too far, though, putting a strong hand around his back and smiling as if, again, smashed. Or maybe he had just never seen his Angel so, in a word, free. “Don’t you want –” he whispered, letting Crowley fill in like always, his eyes practically burning with desire.

“Obviously,” Crowley shot back, slightly mocking his Angels tone, an attempt to lighten the mood. The Angel did not waver. “But I still don’t know what’s happening –”

“What is happening, my dearest,” and with a flick of his wrist, the two of them were completely naked and Aziraphales human form was rather tight against Crowley. “Is that I am doing something that I’ve waited, well lets say,” and he paused in thought. “Let’s just say, very nearly, since you and I met, I’ve wanted to do this,” and he trailed a hand up Crowley’s back to rest between his wing joints, apply the most tender of pressures, which sent a sensation that nearly melted Crowley like butter.

“O-oh,” Crowley said, arching against the other man.  Again, the sensation of tensions relaxing, as more of Crowley surrendered. “Look, I’m up for anything, you know that Angel,” and Aziraphale gave the slightest of nods, and kissed down his neck. “Bu – but, I, ha, well.”

Aziraphale stopped. “We don’t have to,” he said, looking at Crowley’s lips, bare chest and the tufts of ginger hair that continued down.  “I mean, we could simply just… talk,” he shrugged.

“Well, that’s not very fair, Angel.”

Aziraphale grinned and let him go, folding in his wings as he did it. If Crowley was being honest with himself, he didn’t want this to stop happening either. He’d been interested, of course he’d been interested. If he hadn’t been interested, he wouldn’t have kept popping up for the last five hundred some odd centuries. If he hadn’t been interested, and thought his interest returned, he wouldn’t have given him his best smile on day bloody one.

His mind was still racing though, and he quickly grabbed for the Angels hands.  “I don’t exactly know what to do here,” he said, looking at their hands.

Aziraphale bobbed a little to catch his eye. “What do you want to do?”

“I want… So much… to be with you for the rest of time,” he rushed through it, as if, had he not said it, he could, very likely, explode.  He let out a great laugh, but there was pain in it. “You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to say that,” he laughed again, this time his snake eyes tearing up slightly. “And I have no idea what that even means. That I said it. Because now I can’t ever unsay it.” He could feel the lump in his throat climbing. “It’s always going to be there now, now I’ve done it.”

“Oh, oh, darling, come,” and Aziraphale brought Crowley over to his bed, where he miracle them both in at least some simple dress, basically the modern equivalent of underwear, sat first and then invited him to join, however he was comfortable.  “I think I know what the problem is,” he sighed.  “Please, allow me to try and explain, well, everything, as I’ve seen it, and I’ve… felt it, and we can go from there, hmm?”

Crowley sat, eventually he laid down, putting his head on the Angels lap and let him run his fingers through his hair, listening to Aziraphale talk about many things. About the beginning. About the garden and meeting Crowley. About his role here on earth. About the moments when Aziraphale didn’t see him, couldn’t talk to him, how agonizing that was. About needing to re-learn hiding everything in front of Gabriel or Michael. About hiding that agony until the moment he could see his Demon again. About denying, bold faced, to anyone and everyone, even himself, how greatly he needed him. About the genuine smiles he could never hide from him. Arriving at the current events, as such, he mentioned finally, “And I think I’ve worked it out. What the Ambrosia does. It merely brings one’s true self to the forefront,” he said, smiling at Crowley. “I don’t fear ‘repercussions’ as I did mere hours ago from only just you and I being in the same room sharing our thoughts, drinking. I think it will all work out. I’m nothing if not an optimist, but also, you know, someone quite powerful, and easily having of the ability to make things, well, work out for me anyway,” and he turned his beaming smile to Crowley.  “Now, does that sound like someone who isn’t in control of the things he wants, hmm?”

“Whoever said –” his voice croaky from just listening and quieting his tears was interrupted.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to assume, but I rather think I’ve gotten to know you quite well, and if you are concerned I might be doing something against my own…” and he chuckled at what he was about to say and then thought better on it, “my own wishes, that is, I’m perfectly lucid. I want you, darling, for as long as you’ll have me. All others be… Damned,” he chuckled, with still more glee.

Crowley sat up and took Aziraphale’s face in his hands, just as the Angel had done before. “I’ll have you, alright,” he said, his fierce smile finally having returned.

They kissed again, but now it was like a pleasant country road that you remember traversing every year. The twists and turns were surprisingly comforting, the way made lovelier by the changes you see, or the urgency you feel. 

Aziraphale pulled Crowley onto the bed over him, bracing himself and feeling the gentle weight of the Demon on top of him.  Breaking the kiss for a moment, touching him all over his back in an effort to goad him further, he chortled, “You won’t break me, Crowley,” he whispered, finally using his legs to rub against Crowleys.

“Shut up,” Crowley said, laughing despite himself.  He began kissing fiercely down the Angels neck. “I want to taste all of you,” he said, as his wings expanded despite himself. Aziraphale let out a sigh and his wings too came back, unfurling gently this time, to rub against Crowleys.

“I’m positively burning all over,” Crowley said.  “I just want more, so much more,” and he kept kissing down and down, chest, each rib, stomach, a hand caressed the Angels’ feathers, another kiss on his precious little paunch, pressing his face into his stomach, eliciting a groan from Aziraphale.

With another snap, Crowley could feel something solid and long grow between them. Aziraphale grunted as it moved against Crowley’s chest. “Yes, yes, I think so,” Crowley said despite himself, and took Aziraphale’s hard cock into his mouth.

Again, Crowley had that feeling of wondering why this wasn’t more awkward, or more tentative. Why was there an urgency he couldn’t quite attribute to literally anything he’d seen in his time here on earth? The Angel he knew would have been embarrassed by this at the very least, but when Crowley looked up at him, all he saw was Love in his eyes, as he reached down to touch Crowley’s hair.  Crowley of course wouldn’t let him and instead took his hands in his and teased him for everything he’s worth.

“You… are a demon,” Aziraphale’s face tightened as Crowley teased him, licking and suckling, only to go back to stroking, only to be fast and then slow.  Aziraphale’s hands turned into fists against Crowleys, and he vaguely wondered when it was that the Demon had gotten so good at this, “I will always regret not doing this sooner,” he said, floundering and gasping for at that moment, Crowley pulled him deeply in, and Aziraphale heard himself shout, “Again!”  The Demon obliged. “Yes,” he said, as Crowley did it a third time, and “That’s … done it, I think,” was the last coherent thing he was able to get out before he came, bucking and shuddering onto the bed.

Crowley propped himself up on his elbows to watch the show as Aziraphale writhed in pleasure, the smile never leaving his lips. His hair was matted and sweaty and his eyes were huge.  When Aziraphale reached for him, Crowley acquiesced, coming up to have Aziraphale lay in his arms. 

He was still panting.

“Well, if that’s what that was always going to be like, I can’t imagine why we waited this long,” Aziraphale said, nuzzling into Crowley’s arms.

Crowley let go of a satisfied chuckle, preening a little, as Aziraphale turned his attention on him. “You don’t have to, really, that was lovely enough,” he said, and if Aziraphale wasn’t exactly sure it was impossible, watching him turn the tiniest bit red.

“Oh, but I want to,” he said, and in one swift motion, he bucked his wings, spinning them both in the air, only to land in opposite positions. Aziraphale grinned like a mad man, “My turn,” he laughed, and when he saw he was on top, he didn’t just kiss Crowley, but seemed to engulf him. 

To Crowley, he felt as though he was being devoured from all directions. As if there was some great black hole made of light instead, and it was sucking him in. Every atom of Crowley’s existence seemed aflame, and he was briefly reminded of the fall, but Aziraphale put and end to that when he pulled on Crowley’s hair.

“Angel, what –“

“Shh, let me…”

“What is –“ but there was no time to ask questions.  Something was burning inside Crowley, red hot like the Sun.  His eyes flitted open and he could see Aziraphale’s human body, hunched over him, barely moving, and yet, his true form was the brightest thing he’d ever laid eyes on. Aziraphale was concentrating so hard on Crowley, on looking at him with love and affection and pure goodness, everything Crowley used to be.

“Let me truly love you,” Aziraphale said. He strained only a little, but then, quite suddenly, Crowley was floating, and moving, and trying to touch every part of Aziraphale that he could, and none of it was enough. “Let me remind you of who you are, my love.”

And with that, Crowley felt that brilliance pass into him, and like fireworks, he was almost instantly incapacitated and wobbly.  “Oh, oh," he gasped, taking long breaths and enjoying the bed for the moment, "Angel that was… full marks,” he said, bleary. He seemed to be tasting his mouth before he said “I can taste plum with a hint of strawberry, oh, yes, how positively divine.” When his wits had returned enough for him to truly thing clearly, he turned in the bed to see Aziraphale completely passed out, his ethereal form back to normal, his wings put away. 

Crowley smiled and snuggled up next to him.  “Well,” he said to no one in particular, “This was a red letter day,” and he too crawled in next to him to sleep for a bit.

Chapter Text

The following day broke with a very large hot sun, sending a bright streak across the bed. Aziraphale sat bolt upright, and then regretted it, resting his hands on his temples and groaning. “Oh…my…” he said, licking his dry lips and giving a small snap to clear his headache. “Must have dosed off,” he said, plopping his body back down and turning onto his side to find Crowley next to him.

Crowley? Crowley! Naked… Crowley!?

He slipped out from the bed again, nearly falling to the floor and stubbing his toe on one of the legs. Crowley moved in his sleep, sprawling out on his stomach, reaching over to where Aziraphale had been, the wool blanket only barely covering his lower back.

It wasn’t until Aziraphale stood up, briefly realizing he too was naked and made quick work of that, and looking over at the table with the partially eaten Ambrosia that he remembered.

Oh, definitely, he did remember.

He knew everything that happened and felt a pang of guilt, which was the other penny dropping, as it were, to clue him in that he was “back to normal.” His face soured.

“’Ziraphale?” Crowley said, muffled from under one of his arms.

“I’m here,” Aziraphale said, quickly moving over to the table to tidy up, pointedly not looking at him.

Crowley lifted his head and turned. “Just miracle it away and come back to bed,” he said, propping himself up on his elbow.

Aziraphale didn’t stop tidying.

Crowley’s eyes narrowed.  There he was, the familiar little Angel, with all the quirks and embarrassed little distractions firmly back into place.  “How are you feeling?” he said, trying not to give it all away.

“Hmm?” Aziraphale said, moving the table away to create space in the center of the room.  Crowley repeated the question.  “I feel, well, back to… I assume back to… um…”

“Oh, for Satan’s sake, you don’t remember what we did, do you?” Crowley sighed, burying his face in his hands. “I was worried about this, I knew this could happen and I –“

Aziraphale stopped and did look over at him then.  “Quite the contrary, my … dear,” but he only stopped for a moment before he collected the dishes to wash them and slide the rest of the glowing fruit back into its basket. “Dear…Shall I still call you dear? Is that too…” he took the dishes to his sink and began washing them intently.

Crowley’s eyes widened, “Right, well I’ll go then, shall I?” He lifted himself out of bed, clothing himself at the same time. His glasses back in place. “See you in another, what, couple decades?  This was a real hoot, Angel,” and he walked, perhaps a little too quickly, for the door.

“No!” Aziraphale shouted. He turned around to make sure Crowley hadn’t left, that he was still there and closer to the door than he’d like. He couldn’t look at Crowley’s eyes though, and he slowly put down the dishes. “I’m … processing, that’s all. It’s a lot of information.”

Crowley nodded, mechanically, the way he did when Aziraphale knew he was trying not to be noticed and fade into the background.  The Angel clucked his tongue and moved two chairs back to the center of the room.  “Sit?” he asked, aiming for charm.

Crowley did take a seat, lounging the way he does as if unaffected by anything Aziraphale did around him.

“Crowley, I,” Aziraphale sat across from him, only managing to get as far up as glancing at the Demons’ hands. “I meant everything I said.  Everything we… everything that happened, I just…”

“Feel different in the daylight?  It’s alright, Aziraphale, it’s not the first time I’ve heard this speech,” he said, glancing back at the door.

Aziraphale shook his head, “That’s not what I’m… Wait…”

Crowley cursed under his breath.  “I’m just saying, it’s fine.”  The word “fine” on Crowley’s lips sounded anything but fine. “Leave it.” Aziraphale went to say something else, but Crowley happened to take his glasses off at that moment and Aziraphale was muted by his gaze. “Angel, what is it you’re trying to say?”

Aziraphale’s face falls with sympathy he honestly can’t help, but he collects himself.  “The only difference between now and last night is that I have the burdens of caution again,” and he looks disappointed.

“Because you don’t want to be seen with me,” Crowley says, angrily.

“No! Crowley if you would just let me try to explain. I am disappointed, but not for the reasons you think.”  He miracled himself a coup of tea. “I wish for nothing more than to be so … bold and unafraid. I don’t have to remind you that there are real reasons for my caution.  But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m very much,” and he looked at him again, his face looking for all the world like a lost animal, “I’m in love with you, Crowley, and have been since the beginning.”  He smiled at him, one of his genuine smiles. “It’s all still here, and I’m not going anywhere.  I want you for as long as you’ll have me,” he smile brightens, choosing to echo part of his speech from last night.

Crowley doesn’t believe it, or doesn’t know what to believe. Aziraphale seems to be asking him silent questions, but he can’t seem to understand any of the thousands of things he wants to say. “You talked about being the most you,” he said.  “What does that mean now, you’re less you?”

Aziraphale thought about this. “I’m still me, but I’m definitely more weighted down.”  Aziraphale could still see the doubt in the Demons eyes, so he sat back, gave a definitive “Right,” and stood up.  “Crowley?”

“Angel?”

Aziraphale took a shaky breath and stepped towards him. Crowley stood up, being eye to eye with him.  Aziraphale took both of Crowleys hands and brought them to his face, letting him gently caress him. “I’m all right, truly.” He said, letting how pleasing this feeling was wash over him.  He nuzzled the demons hand, “I could do all of that again, and more.  Just perhaps not today, not just now. Is that alright?”

Crowley was stunned, but nodded.  “That’s alright.”

Chapter Text

(2 HOURS LATER)

Aziraphale had just finished bathing, in as much as one could bath outside, and was drying his hair with a cloth, when he looked up at the Demon to find him staring at him.

He supposed this was going to be the way it was now. Perhaps more domestic, which, as much as he wanted that, he felt a stabbing pain when he thought of it. Still, wouldn’t it be a nice dream for them. He’d wanted this for so long, why not let it play out?

Coming to sit near him, silently dabbing his hair, he blurted out “Crowley?”

“Hmm?” he said, barely moving.

Aziraphale side glanced him a couple of times, before leaning forward. “What did you mean before?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” Crowley said, shaking out his own hair and running his fingers through it, giving him a sly smile. “Give me a year, at least.”

“Earlier today, when you –“ he watched as Crowley grabbed for his glasses and hastily put them on, “Shortly after you woke up and I was –”

“I thought we agreed to leave it, it’s fine,” he mumbled, going for calm, but the look he gave Aziraphale was stern.

“I didn’t agree to anyth–”

It was amazing the walls that Crowley could throw up at a moments’ notice. “Well, it’s nothing you need concern yourself with. Besides, you say this is different,” and he shrugged, “I believe you.”

Aziraphale pursed his lips, grabbing a nearby tunic and put it on. “But how can I ever possibly convince you of that, if you won’t tell me what it was in the first place.” He let his face become blank, with a slight hint of cheek.

Crowley crossed his arms. The Angel had him there. “Well if we’re going to have this conversation, I’m going to need a drink.”

Aziraphale perked up, his eyebrows raising. “You stay right there; I know exactly what we need.”

*

Aziraphale was only gone for maybe an hour, but when he returned, Crowley was absent.

Crest fallen, he put down his basket and placed the bottles on the table.

“Well, that was certainly to be expected.” He sighed and put the alcohol away. “It was a nice dream though, and” patting the glass as he put it in the cupboard, “perhaps these will still come in handy.”

 

1578 A.D.

“Did you have any trouble with that little temptation down in Portugal?” Crowley was sitting at a table, turned away from Aziraphale who was sitting behind him.

Both of them, for all the world to see, unacquainted strangers in the corner of some small tavern, kindly eating, unaware of each other. It should be noted that Crowley’s plate was fuller than Aziraphale’s, who’d just swallowed and wiped his mouth. “Not at all, the woman was… very obliging,” he said, with a conspiratorial air. “No doubt she’d have thought it up on her own anyway, if I’d not been there.”

“Indeed, you’re really getting the hang of this, Angel,” Crowley grinned, draining his cup and pouring more.

Aziraphale huffed a bit, but then moaned when he was able to take another delicious bite. “The food here is scrumptious.”

Crowley nodded, somewhat mechanically. “Knew you’d like it,” he said into his goblet.

Aziraphale, cocking his head to the side, asked, “Not enjoying your meal?”

Crowley stretched. “I’ve no taste for food, you know that.”

He practically turned around to glare at the Demon, but for secrecy’s sake only directed his expression at the floor. “I can’t understand why; I’ve seen you eat before.”

“Appearances, Angel, pretenses,” he said, sounding more and more careless with his words.

“Perhaps I might entice you to eat something…” Aziraphale nodded side to side, “Somehing rather more forbidden than stew,” he said, licking his spoon clean.

That made Crowley turn completely around, and he nearly clapped Aziraphale in the back, but he thought better on it and just casually leaned against the wall to say, “To what are you referring?”

“The… nectarines I’ve still got at home…”

Crowley did look at him now from behind his sunglasses and, if Aziraphale wasn’t completely sure it was impossible, the feelings were still there nonetheless, attempting to make him disappear with his eyes alone.

Aziraphale got up, as nonchalantly as possible, to get himself another plate and when he came back, Crowley was sitting at his table, lounging as casually as if he’d been there the whole time. He nodded his head before taking his seat again, and spooning more stew into his mouth with a pleasant little groan.

“I was not ever going to … ” and he made a serious of flailing gestures which Aziraphale interpreted fairly well.

“We never said anything of the sort.” Aziraphale replied, grinning from ear to ear. “Frankly I think you need it. Don’t you ever wonder what good it might do, to have that kind of freedom?” And he couldn’t help it, the Angel became wistful before the Demons eyes.

Crowley, though he’d never admit it, enjoyed many things through Aziraphale’s enjoyment of them. All he need do is invite Aziraphale somewhere to completely bask in the wonder and candid pleasure of that which he desired and, sometimes with the fervor of a glutton, consumed. But, if he was being honest with himself, he’d hit a spot of rut lately. It had been harder to get up in the morning, the days seemed to be getting rather repetitive. It was as Aziraphale had pinned it, he was definitely burdened, and if he was ever going to feel “better” this is one avenue he knew would be a respite, a stop gap. And something that could fade away in a day or so, so what’s the harm?

Crowley sat, fidgeting a bit, only to stiffen, and say “Oh, alright, Angel, we’ll do it your way.”

Chapter Text

“I can’t believe you’ve had it this long,” Crowley said, his legs moving on their own, waffling from side to side, as he lounged on the Angel’s bed.

Aziraphale mocked offense, “I kept it for over a thousand years, what makes you think I’d get rid of it after the last bout?”

Crowley shrugged, and sat a little straighter, as the Angel came back to him, plate in hand, another fruit cut into bite sized pieces.

He paused, noting how Crowley still seemed uneasy. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Crowley looked up at him. “I’m not really sure of anything these days,” he said, swallowing. 

Aziraphale cocked his head to the side, “What does that mean?”

“It means, Angel, that I’m –” he stopped, side glancing Aziraphale. “I just don’t feel very much myself these days. Some days are harder than others to get out of bed.” His hands trailed over Aziraphale’s lovely braided blanket, playing with the knobby bits between his fingers.

“You’ve hit a wall, proverbially speaking,” Aziraphale said, giving him a somewhat forlorn look. “Maybe you need a change of pace?”

“Pace!?” Crowley groaned, “I’ve just come back from vacation, I can’t very well take another one so soon, I’ve got quotas to fill.”

“And I’ve helped you fill them,” He said, without fully realizing the implications until Crowley gave him an evil grin. “The quotas, Crowley!” and he tut-tutted him, handing him the plate.

He did take it from Aziraphale but set it down as far away from him as he could manage, the smile fading around the edges. “What if we just… sat and talked for a little while?”

Aziraphale lit up all over and sat immediate down at the table, “Of course!” he said, scooting in his chair closer to him. “What would you like to talk about?”

Crowley eyed the fruit nervously, but then abruptly reached over to Aziraphale’s face and ran his thumb over his lip.

“Oh,” Aziraphale shivered, resisting the urge to kiss his knuckles.  “This … isn’t talking,” he said, and gently rested a hand on his to help quiet them.

“I know,” Crowley’s grin was a little less bright. “But, we don’t need the fruit, do we?”

Aziraphale was confused. “Need the fruit for what, exactly?”

Crowley rolled his eyes and put his head down in his hands. “Are you being exceptionally obtuse for a reason, or is this some new Fad you’ve decided to take up?”

Aziraphale reached a hand over to touch his head and caress his hair. Crowley leaned into the touch like he was desperate for anything the Angel would give him.

“Why are you still hiding?” Aziraphale found himself saying. “Why can’t you just say what you mean?”

Crowley lifted his head, “You want me to say what’s on my mind?”

He froze, something he regretted immediately, seeing the look on Crowley’s face. “Yes,” Aziraphale said, as determined about anything as he usually is, which is to say, sometimes, mostly, all of the time, somewhat.

Crowley’s face turned a shade darker that Aziraphale had never seen before, and he froze in place, seeming to mentally debate what he wanted. It was like the whisper of his once scaly skin had returned and it was protecting him.

Aziraphale held his breath, but got up all the same, and made them some tea, as much as he was able. Tea was so hard to come by here, and the fires so hard to stay alight. Instead he just ended up miracle’ing them some warm hot water with zest. “I’m waiting,” he said, taking a sip.

“I…” he croaked, soon taking a sip of his own tea for his suddenly dry throat. “I want what we both know we can’t have.”

Aziraphale sighed, “To be…” and he swallowed hard. Crowley nodded, no longer looking at him. “Together… Really together?” and he nodded again. Aziraphale went quiet, but then whispered, “I want that too.”

There is was. It hung in the air like bad cooking. They couldn’t even look at each other.

Crowley decided to sit so far back on the bed until he was practically laying down, and Aziraphale took a seat at the table again, moving around the cubes of fruit with his fork.

Eventually Crowley stood up. “I think I should go,” he said, putting on his glasses. “I’ll see you soon, yea?”

Aziraphale was stunned, the last thing he wanted was for Crowley to leave. He stabbed at the fruit. “If I hadn’t eaten this that night, what do you think we’d be doing right now?”

Crowley smirked, coming to stand near him. “Drinking, probably. And laughing. I think we’d be laughing,” and he caressed the Angel’s jawline.

“Oh!” Aziraphale sprang up. “I knew they’d come in handy.” And he ran to the cupboard and took out the bottles and two goblets. “Drink with me?”

Crowley shook his head, but he was smiling now. “Aziraphale, please, it’s late.”

“Late, yes, it most certainly is,” he said, uncorking a bottle, pushing straight ahead. “You left without saying goodbye, what was it, fifty some-odd years ago?”

Crowley at least had the decency to blush. “I um, I was called away, I had things to do –”

Aziraphale gave a little “Mm” sound and handing him a goblet. “Well, now’s my time,” he said, sitting pointedly down again and yanking on Crowleys hand to follow suit. “Drink with me!”

This last was not a request. Crowley smiled sadly, and clinked the glass to Aziraphale’s and proceeded to demolish the bottle in record time.

Chapter Text

“Well,” Aziraphale sighed. Finally stabbing one of the fruit cubes, getting it on the second try. “I can tell you a few things from my experience trying the, um” and he cleared his throat, “forbidden fruit, shut up,” because Crowley had, at that moment, barked out a laugh that he just couldn’t suppress.

Crowley held up his hands, a joint after-you and sorry -it-was-too-good gesture.

Aziraphale waited until he has his attention, although his eyes focused and re-focused twice. “I did feel extremely … unburdened. I’m not going to sit here and tell you that it solved all of my problems, because it didn’t,” and he gestured between them and Crowley shrugged grinning like a fool, “I just, for a m-moment,” and he shrugged, “forgot about them all.”

Crowley rolled over to lay on his stomach. “Wouldn’t it be easier to have a nice good shag first?” he asked, batting his eyes.

Aziraphale blinked at him, his lips pursed into a small tight, little “o” shape.

“Perhaps not,” Crowley said, snickering and shoving at the Angel. He poured himself another glass and collapsed back onto the soft bed without spilling a drop.

“Now wait a minute, you, see you, shut it,” because Crowley was laughing again. “Shh, stop, stop,” and he did, but only after Aziraphale sidled up to him and knelt down, taking his face in his hands. “I would like nothing more than to do all of that, right now,” and he grinned at him, dopily.

Crowley licked his lips, “Well, your bed has been tested and Demon approved.”

Aziraphale gritted his teeth, “You were saying something, don’t you remember?”

Crowley furrowed his brow. “Not… in the ssslightest,” he said, hissing involuntarily.

“You were going to tell me… you know… what happened, about what you said,” Aziraphale was trying to be delicate.

“Angel, I haven’t the foggiest idea –”

“Fifty years ago, you said –”

“Fifty years what? I can’t even remember what we were talking about an hour ago, let alone –”

“FIFTY. Years. Ago. You said you’d tell me why you,” and he was really hoping Crowley would fill in this thought, please God in heaven, but he was just letting Aziraphale go on his way and finally, “Who’d told you they felt different in the daylight, Crowley?”

Chapter Text

Crowley slowly stopped laughing and sniffed hard. “Right, tha’,” and he downed his wine, a small smile lingering there.

"I'm sorry," Aziraphale whimpered, "I was... But you seem so sad about it …".

"No, no," Crowley patted his arm, "This is fine, good. We get it all out, yea?" Aziraphale nodded, not trusting his voice. "Well if you must know," and Crowley had an excruciatingly pained face, "it's been … several people." And as Crowley's face fell further, he mumbled, "Practically everyone... actually."

Aziraphale didn’t understand. "Everyone what?"

Crowley sighed. "You hush, please, for just... Just hush..." and he walked over to refill his cup. 

Aziraphale sat, perfectly straight, if a little wedged into his chair. 

"Good, like that," and Crowley downed more wine. "Oh, toss it," he mumbled to himself, "Everyone I've ever been with, alright?" He practically shouted it.

Aziraphale's mouth hung open.

Crowley sniffed, pouring more alcohol. "Everyone. Now sure, some of them left before dawn, but that’s just the cowards way out isn’t it?” And he took another few gulps. “Literally just unable to say it out loud, so say it with your actionsss,” he belched and shook his head. “Some of them were th’job, ya know. A little temptation of the flesh, and you practically expect them t’be rude. It’s literally part of the plan that you’d ssslink away come daybreak.” Seeming to put on airs, he continued, “I assumed it was them taking out their pain on me, happens y'know, but... But some of them were, just really..." some lewd gestures, or what the Angel interpreted as lewd gestures, were made, "Enticcccing..."

Aziraphale sat up straighter, "Oh, Crowley."

"Hush," The Demon's shoulders squared, as if he was ready to fight. “Didn’t I tell you hush? Be silent as a… Oh, dammit, what’s a silent thing…”

"How many?"

“Giraffe? Hmm, too much neck, Giraffes, they must have huge voice boxes.”

“How many?” Aziraphale said, hopping to his feet.

He wasn’t sure what his face looked like, but Crowley stiffened and thought about it. "Hundreds maybe," He squinted, pointing with his goblet, "And this is why I didn't want to talk about this with you."

"I wish you'd said something sooner," Aziraphale walked over to him, slower than usual, and careful not to stumbled.

Crowley tried to move away but he wasn’t fast enough before the Angel had a hand on his arm. "Of course, of course,” He tried to break free, but he was weakened and drunk.  “And say what? We weren't," he seemed to be choking on his words. "You didn't want –" and he shoved Aziraphale back from him and just grabbed another bottle to open, and then downed it without using his goblet.

Aziraphale huffed. "I did," he said, suddenly angry. "There's a big difference between wanting something and knowing you can't have it."

"S'that so?"

"It is."

Crowley leaned forward, using the table to help steady him. "If I truly want’d something, I would not have need this," and he picked up the plate. He nearly smashed it on the wall, but all that rage instead just made him, very carefully, place it back down. He very silently began to cry.

Aziraphale went to him and held onto him as tightly as he could, making little quieting sounds of his own.

*

They stayed like that for some time. Aziraphale couldn’t remember when he started running his fingers through Crowley’s hair, but seemed soothing for both of them.

After what felt like forever, Aziraphale whispered, “Can I saw something?”

Crowley muffled an assent, still buried in the other’s shoulder.

“Crowley, I could… I’m going to be as honest with you as I’m… currently capable. The only thing I ask is that you know that, and try to hear me.” He put both hands in Crowley’s hair, and gently pulled him up to look him in the eyes. “Is that clear?”

Crowley was a mess, but he nodded, pushing at Aziraphale’s hands and stumbling over to the bed. “I think I might need… I’m going to sober up.”

Aziraphale leaned heavily on the wall, nodding. “Me too,” he said, using the wall to support himself as the strain of relieving his blood of alcohol took it’s toll.

Crowley shook his head, and rubbed his face, but when he was done, he looked over at Aziraphale will all that love, what he understood as love now, and admiration, and the Angel was tongue-tied.

“You were saying?”

“Right,” he said, shaking his head. He looked at him, focusing all of that Angelic power on him, willing his face to show openness and not hiding anything. “I would have you so many ways,” he said. It was true. The truest thing he’d found in all his life. “I would. I would have you in all of the ways we both seem to want, if only… If only the powers that be weren’t,” and he pointed upward, “and there,” and he pointed down. “Our friendship alone, could get us both wiped off of the face of existence. How on Earth was I supposed to love you, as you deserved love, as we both deserve love. I am unworthy of it, in many ways, myself. In, perhaps, most of the same ways, if not more than you are.”

Crowley was speechless. He huddled himself into a ball on the bed, doing his best to process the words he heard.

“We don’t need the fruit,” Aziraphale shrugged. “We don’t, but you should know, I care deeply about your comfort. I want you to… be comfortable. I’d want to give that to you.”

Crowley seemed to tense. “Is that all you care about?”

“Not at all, but right now you are… so fraught that I don’t see another way.”

Crowley smirked, “I’ve an idea or two that might help relieve the tension.”

Aziraphale smiled, and it was sexy. Sexier than Crowley thought Aziraphale capable of, and he was completely undone by it. “Oh, but we could definitely do everything in that precious Demon head of yours, but the thing is – even that, my dear, for you is very much still a burden. I can say, with most certainty, that I am not like those other people you’ve been with. It’s perfectly understandable that you have reservations, you’ve literally never known anything else. But until you believe that I am here because I want to be here, and if circumstances were different, I’d have you completely, entirely, mine for all eternity, well, I think we both should work on other things to start.”

Crowley frowned, but nodded. “And you want –”

Aziraphale smiled jovially, “Most certainly. Until you couldn’t remember your name.” He winked at him and clapped. “Please, let me provide some other release.”

Crowley sighed, what sounded like thousands of years of pent up tensions seemed to just leave him, as immediately as anything ever has. “Well,” he said, and got up. He walked over to the table and picked up one of the cubed pieces and popped it in his mouth.

Chapter Text

Crowley tossed another couple of pieces into his mouth. “It really is quite tasty,” he said, still munching on the last few bits.

Aziraphale was gob smacked.

“Cat got your tongue, Angel?”

Aziraphale wasn’t moving, “Uhhm, yes, I’m uh…” but he shook his head in an effort to snap out of it. “I honestly didn’t think you’d eat it, not in a million years.” He stood, examining him. “Well you watched out for me before, I mean the least I can do is return the favor.” He checked his eyes and made him open his mouth. “What should I look out for?”

Crowley grinned, giving him a small kiss on the cheek, making him blush. “Don’t forget to check the metaphysical plan,” he said, popping the last. Aziraphale squinted. “Do I look like a giant ball of light?”

Aziraphale squinted harder, “No? I mean, no more than usual.”

Crowley smirked, “Well, keep an eye on it,” and he nuzzled the Angel’s ear.

Aziraphale was positively intoxicated just by feeling the Demons breath on his neck. “It’s going to be hard to keep… An eye on your if I can’t see you, love.”

Crowley, smiling against the Angel’s skin, breathing and becoming soup against him, laying butterfly kisses along his collar bone, just sighed and raised ever hair on Aziraphale’s body. “It’s been a long day, Angel. I honestly could just spend time in your arms for the rest of it, if that’s alright.”

Aziraphale gave a little pleasant “Mm” sound, and wrapped his arms around Crowley, rocking him back and forth. “Like this?”

Crowley did melt now, mumbling something that sounded like, “S’nice” and nearly coiling into a puddle at Aziraphale’s feet. The Angel chuckled, and rubbed his face gently over the Demon’s shoulder, while his hands applied pressure over his back.

Crowley squirmed a bit.

Aziraphale couldn’t help but notice. “Something wrong?”

Crowley shook, and got hot, very hot. “Wrong? Whatever could be wrong?” he asked, his back giving off small spasms.

Aziraphale took another look at his metaphysical form and was now staring at bright red light. “I think it’s happening, my dear. How do you feel?”

Crowley spasmed again, and again. Aziraphale held him close through it, attempting to keep him standing. But eventually it was no use.

Quite suddenly and without warning, Crowley transformed into a giant snake with wings bigger the span of the room they were in. He hissed at Aziraphale, almost out of reflex, and flapped, kicking up dust and sending the table flying.

“Crowley!?” Aziraphale said, shielding his eyes, “Crowley, are you alright in there?”

With a little pop, suddenly the Demon’s human form was back again. “Oh, right as rain, Aziraphale! Couldn’t be any better. Bad Satan, why haven’t we done this sooner!” he said, slamming a hand down on the table. “Oh, yes, a demon could get used to this!” He was suddenly a snake again, and crawled up into bed, spinning around like a wet noodle.

Aziraphale was perplexed. He walked over to the bed, but it was hard enough keeping up with the snake as it was. “Crowley, could you – what if you stayed in one place, please?”

Crowley slithered off the bed and up Aziraphale’s back, looping himself around the Angel’s neck. When he became his human form again, he was draped over the Angel, with his face nestled in the crook of Aziraphale’s neck. “I think this one place,” he said, breathing and darting out his forked-tongue for a little taste.

“Alright, alright, please,” Aziraphale opened his hands, palm up, and Crowley very easily jumped into his arms. “There now, hello,” he said, smiling at him.

Crowley smiled back, and Aziraphale was just enamored with him, from this plane to the other. His heart was beating so fast.

“How do you –”

But he was cut off by Crowley’s lips, which were suddenly on his. Aziraphale returned the kiss but was, more or less, desperate to get back to the subject at hand. “Crowley,” he moaned, into the others cheek while the Demon nibbled his way down his jawline and bit his ear. “Oh, Crowley, that’s, ha – not what I had in m-mind.”

Crowley kept going, “But, you smell so good, Angel. Like Home.” He suckled his neck, and with a snap, Aziraphale’s tunic was gone. “Didn’t I tell you that? I must have.” He stood up on his own to a better lay of the Angel’s land. “I miss it. God took my Grace, you know. That’s what we lot are, Graceless.” He mumbled, pulling Aziraphale’s hands and placing them onto his own body. “Please, touch me here, and here. I’m begging you, all over, please.”

Aziraphale was quite taken with Crowley; how he so beautifully fell apart at the slightest of touches. Maybe this was truly what he needed afterall. How could he deny him this?

“I didn’t know that,” Aziraphale said, attempting to keep the conversation going as he touched the Demon where he wanted. “And is this what you truly are then,” and a wicked smirk appeared on the Angel’s face. “A wanton creature?” and he pinched one of Crowley’s nipples, turning it harder to hear him hiss and plead for more.

Aziraphale was touching him everywhere. Everywhere he wished, and a couple of places he never even dreamed up. Aziraphale had a masterful tongue, and used it craftily on him, in ways that made the Demon blush from head to toe, which the Angel kept meticulous track of, occasionally asking, if something appeared to have gone very well, if it had in fact gone well. “I need data, you know,” Aziraphale would say, sinking low onto his knees to pray and Crowley’s feet.

Crowley bent his back, aching for more, and then covered Aziraphale, unable to control his limbs. He clung to him, a man drowning in his own desperate state. “Must be,” he panted. “Must be a desperate thing, because I want more, Angel. Please, more.”

Crowley dropped to his knees. “The missing Grace, you have Grace. Maybe if we… Ugh, don’t make me ask it,” and he was shuddering again. “Angel please, Aziraphale. I want you. Please only you.” He was pulling Aziraphale down to the floor in an effort to explain.

“What is it, my dear? What can I do for you?”

Crowley wept, trying to stay coherent. “There’s something I once… experienced…” Aziraphale planted tender kisses on his face, but Crowley stopped him. “Wait, please, just, let me get this out while I have my wits.” He smiled, one of his great beaming smiles, all teeth.

“Of course,” Aziraphale answered, trying to just look at his face and read it as best he could.

“It’s not nice, Aziraphale. It’s a bit rough.”

The Angel’s eyebrows raised and he smiled even wider. “Really?”

Crowley had a moment to look indecent. “I’m not going to break, Angel, I’m sturdier than you – AH!”

Aziraphale had, without Crowley noticing, wrapped a hand in his hair and began to pull. “Rough like this?”

Crowley positively writhed in Aziraphale’s hands.

“Rougher than this?”

He loosened his grip a little, and the demon nodded, his eyes closed, his body rigid. “From… from the back…” he hissed, keening.

Aziraphale yanked harder, and gave Crowley a lick on his cheek before moving behind him.  He was still bent, his back arched beautifully.

“Please…” he heard Crowley whisper.

“Here?” Aziraphale said, touching his shoulders and wing joints with his free hand, not letting the hair go.

“Lower…” Crowley gasped.

Aziraphale moved lower, bottom of his back, right where his smooth mounded ass crested and pressed into one of the hip joints. “Here, surely,” he said, letting a low evil laugh escape.

“Angel!” Crowley shouted, and received a moderate yank in reply.

Aziraphale laughed again, loosening his grip on his hair and moving into position. “Up on your knees, dear. That’s a pretty thing.”

Crowley obeyed, shaking more and more, and sweating. Aziraphale couldn’t help himself, he folded himself over him for a moment, just resting there, his hands roaming his skin, touching between his legs, testing. “You are a lovely creature, Crowley. Anyone who’s ever said any different needs to be cut down.”

Crowley gasped. “You’re supposed to be the good one, you know.”

“I mean it, you’re a perfect thing, especially like this. You’re glorious.” And he laid kisses along his spine.

“Angel, if you don’t fuck me soon, I’m going to –”

But he didn’t have to finish that sentence. Aziraphale began slowly, with tongue and fingers, loosening him. It was the best feeling, Crowley leaned forward but also did his best to stay upright, Satan forbid he stopped. Please don’t stop.

By the time Aziraphale was inside, Crowley was yelping and pushing back in rhythm. “You do need this, don’t you,” Aziraphale said, planting gentle kissed, one hand on his hip, the other in his glorious red hair.

“Yessss,” Crowley said, a complete waste of consciousness. “Pleassse yessss.”

It didn’t take long for Crowley to cum. It was explosive, like fireworks. He was a tangled mess, and Aziraphale helped lay him down as tenderly as possible. The whole time showering him with praises. “I’m going to be here in the morning, Crowley. I want to enjoy the next three days with you, and only you. We shall make it a vacation from everything.”

Crowley laughed, a puddle once more. “Angel, I – I love you.”

Aziraphale gave him a strong determined kiss, and said, “I love you, too.”