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Smoke and Guitars

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Aziraphale didn’t normally go into smoky nightclubs like this one. It wasn’t his scene. And he was rather certain everyone else could tell this too.

The far too angelic looking man had been invited out by his friend to listen to his band, and Aziraphale couldn’t resist.

He showed up in the most ragged things he could find (a nice pair of blue jeans and a white shirt with black speckles. He even wore a black bow tie.) and since then realised he should’ve just raided his roommate’s closet.
Speaking of his roommate, he saw Crowley setting up on stage in far too tight jeans, a white t-shirt that showed off a fair bit of his collarbone, and a leather jacket. His spiked belt hung loosely around his hips, swaying as he walked.

Aziraphale stood near to the front of the stage and watched the band set up. He had to admit; the clothes suited Crowley immensely. Maybe a little too well , Aziraphale thought to himself.

More people flooded in, dressed a lot like the small band. Aziraphale didn’t know who the other members were; it didn’t exactly matter to him. All that mattered was that he would have to drive them both himself and his roommate home since Crowley would definitely get shit-faced. But he could live with that.

Crowley and Aziraphale had gotten on from the start. They’d even nicknamed each other “Angel” and “Demon” purely based on how different they were from each other. Aziraphale obviously knew “Angel” was a pet name for people who were romantically together. He would be lying if he said his heart didn’t leap every time Crowley woke up on the couch and quietly grumbled “Angel, get me a water, I’ve got a pounding headache.” And Aziraphale would do just that; bring Crowley some water and sit with him to listen to some quiet music.

His roommate had shown him enough songs that Aziraphale knew most of them off by heart. He even caught himself singing some in their kitchen when he made dinner for the two of them.

He was snapped away from his thoughts by Crowley picking up his black and yellow electric guitar and a microphone stand and bringing them to the front of the slightly raised stage. He tapped the microphone.

“Check, 1, 2. Nice.” He smiled. He nodded to his band mates. They nodded back.

“Hey everyone, thanks for having us!” Crowley said cheerfully. The assembled crowd cheered far too loudly, but even still, Aziraphale couldn’t regret showing up. “We’re Snake Gate, and we’ll be performing for you tonight. Our first song is a cover of the Steven Universe song, “What Can I Do For You?”” Crowley received a couple of whoops and cheers from some scattered audience members. “I can assure you, fans, you’ll love it!”

Aziraphale distinctly remembered this one. He had watched many of the episodes of Steven Universe with his friends Newt and Anathema, and found it enjoyable. The moment Crowley mentioned he’d play it, Aziraphale rambled about the show and how much he loved it. And his roommate listened to every word.

Crowley strummed his guitar to check it was connected properly to the amplifier. When it came out clear, Crowley grinned. How cute . Aziraphale didn’t stop the thought from entering his mind. He couldn’t be bothered to stop them anymore after about a year of them.

The band was finally ready. Crowley strummed his guitar for the opening tune. Four hits on the cymbal. And then he began to sing. Aziraphale almost mumbled the words under his breath.

“What can I do for you?” Crowley sung ever-so clearly. He looked so in his element. Aziraphale was entranced. “What can I do that no one else can do?”
The first chorus and Aziraphale let his attention drift slightly from Crowley to the other members of the band. His gaze always snapped back to the redhead though, what with the way he would occasionally sneak glances at Aziraphale.

What happened next was something he didn’t expect to happen to him in a nightclub in Soho, where his hot as hell roommate was singing to him and moving his hips like a snake.

Crowley hopped off the stage, microphone off the stand and in his hand. Someone else took over playing the guitar.

Crowley sauntered over to Aziraphale whilst singing, running a hand through his hair.

“Human man, you are so much fun.” Crowley began to weave around Aziraphale, looking him over as though he was hungry for a meal. oh fuck, the tempted one thought.

“I hadn’t planned on finding you-“ one-handedly, Crowley stopped in front of Aziraphale and deftly untied his bow tie. He flung it over his own shoulder. He looked at Aziraphale face and smirked somewhat- “quite this entertaining.”

Aziraphale’s knees began to tremble a little. His heart raced and his eyes were wide. Shit he’s hot , he thought. He couldn’t rip his gaze away.

“I like your band, and I like your song.” Crowley looked behind him to see the band members playing away with a grin.

“I like the way human beings play-“ Crowley picked up Aziraphale’s chin, only the microphone between them. The smaller of the two tried to focus on something other than the man in front of him and the heat pooling in his stomach. Crowley dropped his face and proceeded to tease him even more. He ran a slender finger along the back of Aziraphale’s neck as he sang the next line. “I like playing along.”

Harmonising, Crowley winked at him and headed back onto the stage. His silver snakebite piercings gleamed against the light, his red hair perfect and without a strand out of place, and his leather jacket still moving with him.

Aziraphale was bright red in the face, and if you could see through the smoke well enough, you’d see his breath hitching and his chest desperately reaching for air. He almost collapsed in the middle of the nightclub with how weak he felt. His legs were reduced to jelly.

During the guitar riff that followed, the slim leading man strutted around the stage. Aziraphale heard a couple whispers around him fade into his hearing. “Just like Freddie Mercury!” they’d say. Aziraphale didn’t focus on it long enough. He just watched Crowley saunter around the stage, pelvis moving like a pendulum, and considered just what it’d be like to see those hips in a different context. His lustful brain apparently didn’t care about the fact that he’d be sharing a room with this guy later.

The song came to an end and the audience cheered. As the next song started, Aziraphale pushed his way through the crowd and made it outside. He leaned heavily against the wall of the nightclub. The fresh, cold air hit his face and he breathed for what felt like the first time in years.

Despite being in his twenties, Aziraphale had never been smoking or drinking. Even though this was the case, he thoroughly considered engaging in either one of these activities.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck ,” Aziraphale said. He was an absolute mess. “Shitting bollocks, Crowley.” He popped open the top button of his shirt as if it would help.

He slumped against the wall for about ten minutes. He breathed and breathed and breathed. His thoughts whirred. They all were about Crowley. Fucks sake.

Aziraphale eventually stumbled back inside to see the band had finished their short set and a different group had taken over. Snake Gate was now strolling around the nightclub, saying goodbye to each other, and getting some drinks.

Crowley had a glass empty in his hand already. The moment he saw Aziraphale his eyes widened for a second and then he smirked. He got up, placed down his glass, and then made his way over.

“Angel? Did you enjoy yourself?” Crowley said when he was close enough. Aziraphale felt a shiver run through him. “Did you like the performance I gave you?”

Aziraphale liked being honest. And if he was fully honest, he’d be currently saying he had been thinking about doing this for too long.

He grabbed the lapels of Crowley leather jacket and pinned him against the nearest wall, crashing their lips together and opening his mouth ever so slightly. Crowley obliged willingly, holding the back of Aziraphale’s neck and waist. The supposedly angelic one moaned slightly as Crowley’s tongue did the most /wonderful/ of things. He felt the small barbell Crowley had pierced into his tongue and revelled in it.

The two split apart.

“Fucking hell,” Crowley mumbled. He sounded almost giddy. “Didn’t think you’d be that forward, Angel.”

“I didn’t think anyone, let alone my roommate, would get me to walk outside for ten minutes to breathe, but here we are.”

Crowley sniggered a little before pulling Aziraphale sharply back into another kiss by his shirt. Aziraphale gripped onto Crowley’s belt, pulling his hips to his, feeling them move in sync. Crowley groaned, and Aziraphale took it as a cue to continue whatever in the Lord’s holy name he was doing.

They broke apart again, much to their disappointments. Both parties were panting a little.

Crowley had an idea now.

He turned, pushed Aziraphale into the wall, and kissed him deeply. Aziraphale found something to grip onto - Crowley’s hips. His nails dug in, but the pain was almost nice, in a way. Crowley bit slightly at Aziraphale’s bottom lip, tugging it gently. The recipient whimpered, but Crowley decided to leave him a little desperate. Pulling away, the redhead dipped away from his roommate’s lips and moved somewhere else.

Crowley began to leave bruises along Aziraphale’s neck, sometimes gently nibbling and other times roughly biting at the skin

“C-C-Crowley, you’re going to bruise me too much-“ Aziraphale stuttered, before tipping his head back with a moan. Crowley had reached his collarbone.

“Do you want me to carry on?” Crowley asked. Aziraphale nodded. “Well, let’s do it somewhere else.”

Aziraphale whined a little. Crowley almost took back his words, but then figured it would be for the best if he didn’t feel like he was being watched when he was making out with someone who he’d wanted to just kiss for over a year.

The two begrudgingly left the nightclub and heaved themselves into Crowley’s car. Aziraphale drove, of course, considering he was the one with the license and because Crowley had drunk a glass of whatever it was.

“You must not tempt me when we’re driving,” Aziraphale said. “I do want us to get home alive.”

“Aw, but that puts away so many of my plans,” Crowley teased.

“Keep them for our bedroom, Crowley,” Aziraphale said sharply. He realised what he said quickly after. His brain short-circuited.

Crowley shut up immediately and got lost in his thoughts.


It was a miracle that Aziraphale didn’t crash the car on the way home, what with how his hands shook and his lip quivered.

The moment they got home, Aziraphale unlocked the door and made his way to the couch. He lay down for a second, just to catch his breath, before Crowley took off his leather jackets and threw it into a corner.

What the fuck even was breathing?

Aziraphale admired Crowley as the taller man straddled him.

“You’re beautiful,” Aziraphale said as Crowley left faint kisses around his jawbone.

“Thanks, handsome,” the demonic one replied. “But I think we should stop talking for a bit, don’t you?”

Aziraphale nodded before Crowley gave him a small kiss. It wasn’t nearly as heated as the nightclub, but Aziraphale could put away his lust for the time being.

Or that’s what he thought before Crowley brushed his hand down Aziraphale’s rib cage, trailed his fingers down his waist, and left the palm of his hand on his hip bone.

He looked into Crowley’s gold-flecked eyes and saw them dark with their own lust. He felt like he was in the nightclub again, and Crowley was hungrily gazing over him.

Aziraphale’s whole body stiffened. His breath didn’t come out properly. He hoped Crowley didn’t look down.

Luckily (or unluckily) for Aziraphale, Crowley did.

“My my, what’s this, Angel?” drawled Crowley.

“Don’t laugh,” Aziraphale mumbled. He felt his intestines squirm.

“Oh no, I’m flattered,” the man above him reassured. “Would you like me to, how should I put it-“ he leaned in close to Aziraphale’s ear and whispered- “sort it out?”

Aziraphale could smack him across the face if he could actually move. He nodded.

Crowley grinned.

“Wonderful. Dare I say this is your first time?”

Aziraphale nodded again, slightly embarrassed.

“That’s fine. You can always tell me to stop, alright?” Crowley reassured.

The lustful man couldn’t really respond comprehensively, so he croaked and hoped Crowley got the message.

Crowley picked Aziraphale up easily and carried him to the bedroom, and gently let him down on the bed. He straddled him, taking off his own shirt as he rocked his hips.

“Now, let’s get started my darling,” Crowley said, holding Aziraphale down by his chest. “Shall we?”