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Crowley had pretty much gotten it figured out.
Aziraphale was the one who pegged him for a dom, a thing he wasn't gonna bring up because he thought Aziraphale would never be interested. But Aziraphale had been so proud of himself for figuring it out, and he had all these ideas, and like a lot of Aziraphale's business, Crowley got swept up in it.
The incident in the bar never happened again, and once Crowley cooled down, he could admittedly see the humor in it; of course Aziraphale would mistake someone hitting on him for a waiter.
"He was being awfully solicitous," Aziraphale said, in his defense.
"You inspire that in people," Crowley said, despairing a little.
So it was interesting that, almost a year later, there was another incident in a bar that was similarly revelatory, perhaps equally so, at least for Crowley.
The problem was that Aziraphale would go to any lengths for good food. This meant holes in the wall, rough patches of town, and, in this particular instance, a seedy pub. Afterwards, the places would find themselves with unexpected good fortune and the money and demand for a whole fleet of delivery drivers, but Aziraphale was a trailblazer.
Crowley had thus far kept him from discovering Yelp, but it was coming at any moment.
The pub was supposed to have, well, pub food, but so beyond compare as to elevate the art form to heights beyond anyone's imagination. Given the outside of it, Crowley would be keeping an eye on his wallet if he wasn't able to materialize cash or other people's credit cards from thin air. The inside was not an improvement on his initial diagnosis; he took in the other patrons, who looked the two of them over with a wave of menace that Crowley found deeply refreshing.
Of course, Aziraphale, in his white suit and his waistcoat and his little bow tie, walked right up to the bar and ordered basically one of everything.
"To go," Crowley said, leaning into the conversation, and he gave Aziraphale a warning look that Aziraphale didn't seem to appreciate.
Aziraphale ordered a pint and sipped it with a face that said he was fascinated by how bad it was, while Crowley stood next to him, turned out to face the rest of the room. He reached out with demonic tendrils that hadn't gotten exercise in a while and struck fear in the hearts of the patrons. He saw some shivers, a room full of unease, the kind of thing that was going to make a massive fight break out later just to blow off the steam.
Crowley had still got it.
There was this one guy that it wasn't working on, possibly because he was very drunk and very large. He had decided he didn't like Crowley pretty much as soon as he walked through the door, which, in fairness, a lot of men had decided through the millennia. Crowley saw it coming from a mile off, but he wasn't sure what to do. "Leg it" was his usual answer, followed by manifesting a giant snake face, but he had Aziraphale to worry about, who was still fascinated by his terrible beer.
The man stepped into Crowley's space, big enough to block out Crowley's view. "How can I help you?" Crowley said, with a winning smile. "Buy you a round?"
"What do you think you're doing here, mate?" he said, looming.
"Just a nibble," Crowley said. "Be out of your hair in no time at all."
"You think I couldn't break somebody like you?" he said, which was a non sequitur but also very relevant. Crowley's eyes darted around for weapons, starting with the bar stool next to him. He could get out of a scrap, miracles or no. "Eyes on me, bitch," the man snapped. "I'm talking to you."
"Excuse me," Aziraphale said, politely as ever, interposing himself between Crowley and the asshole; Crowley hadn't even heard him approach. "Precisely who told you you could speak to my husband like that?"
"Out of the way, little man," he said, trying to push Aziraphale aside.
It was too fast for Crowley to see what happened. Suddenly the man was on the floor with Aziraphale's foot on his back, his arm wrenched painfully up behind him. "I asked you a question, and I'll ask another one," the Guardian of the Eastern Gate said, voice level. "What gives you the right to interrupt a perfectly nice evening with this nonsense?"
"You're gonna break my fuckin' arm," the man groaned.
"Oh, I might," Aziraphale said. "If you apologize to my dear Crowley, I might reconsider."
"Jesus fuck," he gritted out, and Aziraphale twisted his arm further. "I'm sorry, okay? I was a dick."
"That's all you needed to say," Aziraphale said brightly, releasing him. "I hope you'll take this as a learning opportunity."
The man staggered away, and Crowley watched him go. He was confused, turned on, and confused about being turned on.
"Oi," a shout came from the bar. A stout bartender pushed a bag of to-go boxes at Aziraphale. "Thanks. On the house if you leave now."
"Oh, thank you ever so much," Aziraphale said, taking the bag, and he led a still puzzled Crowley to the Bentley.
Crowley gladly got them the fuck out of there.
Not long into the drive, he heard the tell-tale rustling of a to-go container being delicately and secretively opened. He reached over and slapped Aziraphale's hand lightly. "No eating in the car."
"I hope you didn't mind," Aziraphale said, addressing the elephant in the Bentley. "It's just that he was going to make an awful fuss."
Crowley, by this point, knew the difference between Aziraphale begging forgiveness and Aziraphale fishing for praise, and this was the latter. "Just didn't expect it, is all."
They were silent again until they reached their flat, and it stretched on until they got inside.
"I'm dreadfully sorry," Aziraphale said, and Crowley didn't know how to answer. Aziraphale sighed. "I don't know what you want me to say. I wish you'd tell me so we could get on with it."
"Why did you do it?" Crowley asked, and he could see the lie forming on Aziraphale's lips, so he cut it off. "It wasn't expediency, angel. You knew I could handle that whole bar if I wanted. Why didn't you leave him to me?"
"Because I have to protect you," Aziraphale said.
Crowley frowned. "Why?"
"I'm a guardian," Aziraphale said. "I guard things."
"You not explaining yourself is not going to make this conversation faster," Crowley snapped.
"That is the fact of my existence, Crowley," Aziraphale said, frustrated, with the edge of a whine to his voice that Crowley knew meant he was genuinely distressed. "You are a tempter. I am a guardian. If I can't even guard you, when you take such good care of me and love me so much, then what am I?"
Crowley said nothing for a few seconds, trying to get his head around it. "I didn't know you felt that way."
"I thought it was obvious," Aziraphale sniffed.
Crowley rolled his eyes. "You think a lot of things are obvious."
"I'd apologize again, but I'm not sorry," Aziraphale said, pursing his lips.
"Hey," Crowley said softly, putting his hands on Aziraphale's hips, pulling him close. It had the desired effect; Aziraphale sighed, the tension easing. "I never knew you felt that way about it."
"You never asked," Aziraphale said, in a way that made Crowley feel guilty instantly.
"Might be nice, being guarded," Crowley said, shrugging. "Never tried it before."
"I've been guarding you for ages," Aziraphale said dismissively.
"Really?" Crowley said skeptically.
"Oh yes," Aziraphale said. "You've had some close calls." Crowley considered trying to look for Aziraphale's featherprints in the last few centuries, but the thought gave him a headache. "I hope you don't think it makes me think that you're less-" Aziraphale made a motion with his hands that conveyed nothing.
"Well-hung?" Crowley said.
It was Aziraphale's turn to roll his eyes. "That I'm the dominant one just because I want to protect you," he clarified. "That was never my intent."
"Nah," Crowley said. "You just want to protect your investment."
"That is not it even a little," Aziraphale said. He put a finger to Crowley's chest, poking him. "You are not complete without me, and I am not complete without you. You show it your way, and I show it mine."
"That is a little like protecting your investment," Crowley said, to cover the fact that it felt like Aziraphale would be looking straight into his soul, if he had one.
Aziraphale sighed. "If you like. But it's not in my nature to stop, so-"
"Nobody said you had to stop," Crowley said, taking his hand and kissing his knuckles. "Show me what you want."
"What do you mean?" Aziraphale asked.
"What does it look like?" Crowley said. "When you think about guarding me." Aziraphale still didn't get it, so Crowley looked over his glasses at him. "I'm asking you to fuck me, angel, in a guarding way. Sexy guarding, kind of a thing."
"Oh, right," Aziraphale said, perking up. "Come to bed and let me show you."
Crowley dragged him into the bedroom, and minutes later they were in bed, naked on the cool, dark sheets. Despite his request, Crowley was on top of Aziraphale, kissing him soundly as he rocked his hips against Aziraphale's.
"This is not what you asked for," Aziraphale said, sounding petulant, the way he did when Crowley asked him for something he couldn't do. Crowley had tried playing around with that idea a time or two, setting Aziraphale up to, well, fail, but Aziraphale hated it and Crowley hated hearing about it.
"Fine, fine," Crowley said, letting him up. "Go on. Show me."
Aziraphale pulled him down, arranging them so that they were on their sides, Crowley in front of him, his back to Aziraphale's front. Crowley wriggled a little, just to feel the way Aziraphale's cock pressed against him. It had been explained multiple times, to him and to everyone else, that getting fucked wasn't dominant, but people who believed that were wrong and boring and didn't know how to have a good time.
There was a rustling noise, like the sound of wind through branches, and Crowley wasn't ready for it when a white wing settled over him, soft feathers brushing his skin. "Like this?" Crowley said; he hadn't seen Aziraphale's wings since the End, and they always made him a little nervous. Maybe they were too holy, or maybe it made Aziraphale look too big, or maybe it made him look too vulnerable, like how he looked when they first met.
"I think about you under my wings all the time," Aziraphale said softly. "I think about keeping you safe so that you can be what you should be." Crowley couldn't respond to that, so he stroked Aziraphale's wing instead; Aziraphale sighed, putting his arm around Crowley's waist. "Relax, darling. I can feel how tense you are."
"Just haven't done this in a while," Crowley said.
"We haven't done this ever," Aziraphale said, seeing through it. He kissed Crowley's shoulder. "I'll put it away if it's too much."
"No," Crowley said, because it was suddenly unthinkable. "Don't."
Aziraphale went back to kissing him, working from his shoulder up to the nape of his neck. "Do what you like to me," he said.
"I thought this was your show," Crowley said.
"I did my part," Aziraphale said. "You asked me how I think of guarding you. I guard you so you can be what you should."
"And you think I should do whatever I want to you," Crowley said, smirking a little even though Aziraphale couldn't see it.
"If you don't mind," Aziraphale said.
"Lend a hand, angel," Crowley said, grinding back against him. "I can't see what I'm doing."
Aziraphale moved him, and like that they were slick, the head of his cock pressing into Crowley. Crowley was, as ever, too impatient to wait, pushing back onto him so that Aziraphale was all the way inside of him.
"You feel astounding," Aziraphale said with a sigh.
"You're not so bad yourself," Crowley said. "But if you think I'm going to do all the work, think again."
"Perish the thought," Aziraphale said, sounding amused, and Crowley bit his lip as Aziraphale pulled out partway, only to slowly press in again. "I do like doing this for you."
"Give me an inch and I'll take a mile," Crowley said. Aziraphale put his arm around his waist again, and Crowley laced their fingers together as Aziraphale thrust into him, lingering, almost lazily. "That's it," he said. "Fuck me just like that."
"Yes, dear," Aziraphale said, kissing the back of his neck.
Crowley couldn't have said how long they spent on it. It was immaterial, really. All that mattered was the insistent press of Aziraphale's cock inside of him, the way Aziraphale's breath felt on the back of his neck. Nothing in the world was more appealing than this, the steady rock of Aziraphale's hips, Crowley pushing back against him.
They sped up incrementally, ratcheting up as the need grew and grew. Crowley led both their hands downwards, closing them around his cock; he didn't let go, so that they were both stroking him, working together. He groaned in pleasure. "That's right," he said. "A little more now, I can take it."
"Anything for you," Aziraphale said fervently. "Everything you want."
All the while, Aziraphale didn't move his wing, soft feathers brushing Crowley's skin incidentally, not quite tickling. It made Crowley feel like there was no one else in the galaxy, no Heaven and no Hell, nothing but him and Aziraphale in this tight little cocoon, safe together from everything. Maybe there was something to this guarding thing, because Crowley didn't know if he'd ever felt a surety like this, a guarantee that the two of them would be okay, just themselves, no army at the gates.
Aziraphale was moving faster now, and Crowley didn't know how much longer he could go on like this, as much as he wanted to. The friction of their joined hands on his cock was almost too much, but he couldn't imagine stopping.
"Say you're mine," Crowley said urgently.
"Yours," Aziraphale breathed. "Oh, Crowley, only ever yours."
"Are you going to come with me?" Crowley said, panting.
"Please," Aziraphale begged. "Please, darling, say the word."
"Now," Crowley said, only barely gritting the word out before he came, spending onto his stomach and both their hands. Aziraphale cried out, thrusting once, twice more, pushing into him hard, and then they were just suspended there, in the quiet, in their nest.
Crowley sighed as Aziraphale pulled out; he waved away the mess before turning in Aziraphale's arms, holding Aziraphale close and kissing him sweetly, more sweetly than he would admit if asked. Aziraphale cupped a hand around his cheek, intent on Crowley, like there was nothing else.
"Maybe I don't mind the guardian thing so much," Crowley said when they parted, and it was worth it for the way Aziraphale smiled, the way it seemed to light up the dim space created by the way his wing blocked the light.
"I don't have a choice, but I am so pleased to hear it," Aziraphale said.
"You always have a choice with me, angel," Crowley said.
"You like to pretend I don't," Aziraphale said.
"So do you," Crowley said. "You get off on it."
"Hypocrite," Aziraphale said, smiling.
"Be careful, or I'll punish you," Crowley said, rolling onto his back and looking up at Aziraphale.
"Perish the thought," Aziraphale said, because they both knew Crowley's idea of punishment was more sensory overload than anything else, which got the point across but wasn't very punishing.
Aziraphale went to fold his wing up, and Crowley gently caught it. "Leave it," he said. "Just for now."
"As long as you want," Aziraphale said, and it didn't move for a long while.