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I've Gone Soft

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When Crowley first met Aziraphale, the angel was firm muscles and hard planes and just the slightest suggestion of the softness that seemed to suit him perfectly. He had known angels were particular about staying fit. That had never been particularly difficult for himself, but this angel… He had a figure that suggested a softness Crowley found particularly… delectable.

That possibility became a reality slowly. First in Rome when the angel had begun to put on a little weight with his newfound freedom. His cheeks were filling out, giving him a healthy glow while his middle had less of the almost painful hardness that didn’t at all suit the angel’s nervous nature. Crowley noted even more of that delicious softness in Paris when the silly angel went back for crepes in the middle of a revolution. He couldn’t help but laugh when he thought back about that.

He was happy to get the chance to bring his angel, because, yes, after the failed end of the world, Aziraphale was his angel, to a meal at a new restaurant every day. He got to see his angel’s bright smiles, hear his contented sighs, and listen to his sincere praise of the food and the chefs’ work.

One night, however, he had sauntered into their bedroom only to see his angel standing in front of a mirror, studying himself with a frown.

“What are you doing, Angel?” He crossed the room and peered in the mirror, resting his chin on his angel’s shoulder. “You never seemed one for posing in front of mirrors.”

Aziraphale blushed, his hands fluttering in front of him. “Oh, I-I’m not- I’m not posing, not really. I was- well, you see, I was conversing with Gabriel before the, well, before the big, um, the big debacle, and he, well, he pointed out how… how I had gone…. Well, soft? And I was just… I was concerned and considering if, well, perhaps if I should stop eating? As a celestial being, I don’t really need to-”

He was cut off as Crowley wrapped his arms around the angel, burying his face in the soft man’s neck. “Shut up, will you?” He pressed forward against his back, a soft sigh escaping his mouth as his lean body encountered the softness he craved. “I don’t think being soft is a bad thing. I must admit I prefer you as you are. I mean, imagine trying to lay with dear old Gabby? All hard with a stick up his angelic ass.” His hands began trailing over Aziraphale’s body, pausing to squeeze his ass. His angel gasped, eyes wide, cheeks reddening. “Your angelic ass however…” He let out a soft laugh, nuzzling his neck. “I’m pretty fond of it. And watching you enjoy new food, or old favorites… Well, it makes a demon feel a little less damned.”

Crowley smiled as Aziraphale’s face lit up with a blush. “O-Oh! Do you… do you really think that?”

“Of course, Angel. I like seeing you enjoy yourself.” He pressed gentle kisses to his angel’s neck, letting out a low laugh at his shy whimper. “I love you just as you are, Angel.”

Aziraphale hid his smile behind fluttering hands. “I love you too, you wily serpent…”