Several years went by. The world kept turning even if their relationship had frozen in place. They didn’t risk doing what they did in the parking lot again, respecting the distance as much as they could. It was hard to do so; Crowley always found himself leaning on Aziraphale when the angel was eating, always attentive to his every movement. He itched to touch him, to speak freely to him. He wanted to go back to their life together, and the desire burned in him with every passing day. Even if Crowley was used to keeping his wanting at bay, it didn’t make anything easier.
It felt worse having to watch how Aziraphale was being deceived by Heaven. The angel believed in the rest of his peers with all his soul, and Crowley ached. He knew Aziraphale loved him, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be on their own side, and it was painfully obvious. Every time Aziraphale insisted that Heaven would win, that they would do the right thing and stop the war, Crowley’s mind kept screaming but what about me?
He never tried to say anything.
Crowley knew Aziraphale wouldn’t listen to it. It had been hard to convince Aziraphale to be the Antichrist’s godfather with him, and that was nothing comparing to fully putting Heaven aside.
Crowley knew that the only option was to wait for Heaven to finally betray Aziraphale’s idea of it. He hated that – waiting for the angel to get inevitably hurt. He despised his own futility, his lack of control. He wanted to protect Aziraphale form Heaven, knowing full well what they thought of angels that were different. His desires clashed; he wanted Aziraphale to realize Heaven’s true face, but without him Falling.
He loved Aziraphale endlessly, and he wouldn’t leave him Falling if the moment ever came. He would be there at his side.
They entered a shabby looking café, empty handed in their search for some records about the Antichrist. There weren’t much people there, and they didn’t even need to miracle a table free. Crowley took his hands out of his pockets the moment he sat down, shaking them slightly. He felt like he didn’t even know his hands anymore, like he was wearing someone else’s. He still felt the tact of Aziraphale’s jackets between his fingers. His body missed the momentary warmth of Aziraphale’s body against his, pinned on the wall. For one second, Crowley had thought that Aziraphale looked at his lips, with familiar desire in his eyes. It hadn’t been the first time Crowley had pinned Aziraphale against a wall, but never quite like this. He wondered what could have happened if the nun hadn’t chosen to appear at that moment. Would he have fallen to temptation and kissed the angel? Or maybe the angel would have done it?
The table was small, making them sit much closer than they would in a restaurant like the Ritz. Crowley’s knees touched Aziraphale’s underneath the table. It was the slightest of touches, nothing compared to the proximity they had just shared in the hospital, but it still sent a rush of energy all the way up Crowley’s legs. He tried not to think about it, but he didn’t dare move. Crowley hoped the angel wouldn’t move either.
A waiter came by, and Crowley ordered two teas and a cake, anticipating the angel’s desires. Aziraphale dedicated a tiny smile to him, making Crowley’s insides feel all soft like every time the angel smiled at him like that.
When the waiter walked away with their order, Aziraphale leaned on the table, closer to Crowley, making his heart bolt.
“I don’t know where we went wrong. It was a good idea; the hospital, the records…”
Crowley scoffed. “We didn’t keep in mind stupid Hastur with his inclination to burn everything he sees.”
Aziraphale straightened his back. “That’s what you get for trusting demons with an important job, I guess.”
Aziraphale’s movement made their knees knock, making Crowley’s brain short-circuit for a moment. He panicked for a second that felt like a decade, wondering if it was now too late to answer and that the angel would know what was going through his mind – Aziraphale’s body against his, blue eyes fluttering to his lips, the way the angel didn’t stop him from pinning him against the wall… He settled for answering:
“What was that, dear?”
Crowley cleared his throat, and crossed his arms on the table, trying to look calm and cool.
“I’m saying, I very much doubt the angels would have done a better job. This required a complex plan to…”
Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, always with your evil plans. I think you just make everyone’s life more complicated that way. It’s not a surprise evil always finds its end at the hands of true justice.”
It was Crowley’s turn to roll his eyes. He hoped Aziraphale wasn’t going to start another “rocks of iniquity” conversation – he was sure he wouldn’t be able to make a good comeback.
Crowley leaned forward, putting more weight on his arms. He didn’t consider that this movement would make their knees collide yet again. In some kind of reflex, he separated his legs, but instead of breaking the contact, what he did was open Aziraphale’s legs in turn. The angel looked at him with wide eyes, shocked, and Crowley’s reaction wasn’t far from his. He swallowed, waiting for Aziraphale’s reaction.
The angel just wiggled a bit on his seat and closed his legs again, visibly trying not to address the subject. Crowley saw, with satisfaction, that he had thrown Aziraphale off, and that the angel was visibly red in the collar. He took this opportunity and closed his legs too, but this time trapping the angel’s knees between his. It was good to have long legs, for once.
The angel turned even more red. Crowley smirked at him. He had pinned the angel twice that day, in some way, making him feel that maybe the trip had been worth it. Aziraphale looked at him disapprovingly.
The waiter came with their orders and walked away again. Aziraphale took his fork, cut a piece of the cake and put it in his mouth.
Crowley, always a big fan of evil plans, had not considered in his calculations that the angel could chose to take revenge. That’s what the bastard chose to do, deliberately passing his tongue on the fork, slowly taking the piece of cake in. Aziraphale moaned and closed his eyes.
Crowley froze on the spot. Without thinking, he put a bit more pressure on Aziraphale’s knees between his, leaning forward. His gaze was focused on the angel, and his mouth felt dry. He watched as Aziraphale cut another piece of cake and opened his pink mouth, offering a momentary view of his tongue. Crowley wondered if he kissed him at that moment, he could taste its sweetness.
The angel munched and swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing and then cut another piece of cake. Aziraphale put the fork in his mouth, surrounding it with his lips. He took the fork out with a pop and moaned again, like the cake was the finest piece of dessert he had ever tasted and was not in fact the commonest of cakes in a greasy spoon café. Crowley noticed with desperation that there was a bit of cream at the side of Aziraphale’s mouth. Crowley’s tongue flickered out of his mouth for a second, before he could take a hold of himself. His desire to lick it and kiss the angel had been too strong. Crowley looked at Aziraphale’s eyes to see if the angel had noticed.
Aziraphale’s eyes were shining with mischief. He had noticed, a smirk forming on his mouth while he munched. Crowley felt a bit annoyed, mostly with himself – had he really not expected the angel to get back at him? Aziraphale knew too much. He knew how Crowley felt when Aziraphale ate like that.
Aziraphale, not tearing his eyes from Crowley’s, used his own tongue to lick the cream lingering on the corner of his mouth. Crowley whined. The demon moved his legs and crossed them, freeing the angel (and hiding something else). He tore his eyes from the angel’s mouth to stare at his plate, determined not to fall for Aziraphale’s tricks again.
Aziraphale continued eating. In a stroke of good will, he used the napkin to clean his mouth.
“You know, we might be able to get another human to find him.”
There was a secret Aziraphale had been trying to drown out for years. The thing was that Aziraphale kind of hated Heaven. He loved the idea of it, of course, and he loved his fellow angels because, well, he was also an angel and that was what he was supposed to do – love. That didn’t stop him from hating how Heaven truly was: cold without gentleness and empathy. He knew Heaven was capable of doing good things, sometimes, and that was what made them different from Hell. Aziraphale clung to that, desperately, because if he even partially condemned Heaven, he had nothing else to believe in.
Even acknowledging that, he still felt guilty about all the things he was hiding from Crowley. Years had gone by, and they were now trying to locate the missing Antichrist. He could blame Heaven for a lot of things, but at least they had the decency to do their job well. How could someone lose an entire Antichrist? It was beyond words.
Aziraphale knew where the kid was, now. He couldn’t tell Crowley and that was eating him inside. He knew that, if he told Crowley where the Destroyer of Worlds was currently hiding, the demon would run to the kid to stop him. He couldn’t let that happen; Aziraphale needed to see what Heaven would do first. He hoped they would stop all this nonsense and avoid going to war. He desperately tried to appeal to their good side, the side Aziraphale knew they had to have.
Heaven decided to break his heart.
He realized, in that moment, that he had been a fool. Of course, Heaven would not stop the Antichrist. He had hoped beyond reason, he had distanced himself from the love of his existence, he had lied and betrayed their relationship, for what? For a call to war?
The demon deserved so much better than him. At least, Aziraphale thought, he had managed to scare him away. He had told Crowley he didn’t like him in hopes Crowley would run away to somewhere far, far away. That had been the only good thing Aziraphale had done in years, probably. Now he could go up in flames with the world he had loved, as long as Crowley was safe.
He tried to warn the demon. It was the least thing he had to do; hoping Crowley had not yet gone away , he called him to confess.
His body was accidentally discorporated by the foolish acts of Shadwell and, as always, Heaven claimed him without him wanting them to.
“I love you, and I always will. Never doubt it.”
“There’s no our side, Crowley, not anymore.”
“I don’t even like you.”
Aziraphale’s words had been resonating in his head for a while now. The memories of their time together and the ones from the past few days were mixed together. His heart felt blank. Crowley cared about the world, he really did – but Aziraphale had always been his priority. He knew he probably wasn’t Aziraphale’s. Now he knew for sure.
He felt something die in himself, engulfed in flames.
Heaven had always been in the middle of their relationship, always present like a curse. Always demanding the angel’s loyalty, taking him away from Crowley.
That loyalty had finally separated the two of them for good. Someone had killed Aziraphale.
Tears ran down his dirty face and dirty soul, screams hurting his throat. Heaven and Hell always took the best from him like burglars. They had taken now the only precious thing in his life.
If Aziraphale hadn’t been so caught up in Heaven’s business, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. They could have run away together, lived among the stars. On their own side. Crowley couldn’t blame him, not even then. How could he blame the angel for following his own nature? He was a creature of faith, a being of light that had since long escaped Crowley (the stars were the only remainder left).
Black soul and no will left, he crawled to a bar to drown himself in alcohol. He saw light reflected on the surface of the liquid, reminding him of Aziraphale. He drank, wishing to keep that light inside of him, to feel Aziraphale once again.
Like he had heard his silent prayer, Aziraphale appeared in front of him. Crowley felt that was what humans felt when they saw a miracle. Aziraphale returned to him, somehow, like a promise.
They saved the world together. Well, they didn’t really do much, but the intention was there and that was the important thing.
During all these events, the words Aziraphale had spoken never left Crowley’s mind. Aziraphale was at his side now, yes, but his heart still felt numb. He found himself disassociating from everything, tired of caring so much. It was important to him that the world wasn’t destroyed but he had left something behind him along the way. He just wanted everything to be over so he could just close his eyes and drift away.
Crowley wanted to do so in his angel’s arms. If he was still willing to, at least, and that thought made his numb heart come alive with pain.
He knew Aziraphale loved him. He believed in it, because the angel had told him so. Aziraphale didn’t want to be on his side, though, and Crowley doubted he could fill the emptiness that was now in Aziraphale’s heart, after Heaven’s betrayal.
Heaven and Hell came back to their respective offices, the tail between their legs. Aziraphale and Crowley waited on a bench, a bottle of wine passed back and forth between them. It was red wine, a very cheap one, and its taste was filling Crowley’s mouth in an uncomfortable yet familiar way. Cheap wine felt appropriate now, somehow, and he took big sips every time Aziraphale handed it to him, their fingers brushing.
They took the bus to London. Aziraphale sat at his side, their legs slightly touching. Crowley could feel every inch they had in contact, his heart trembling. He gave it a reprimanding thought – don’t get your hopes up. Let the angel decide, you need to wait for him. At that moment, Aziraphale took his hand and his body froze. Aziraphale’s fingers were cold and a bit sweaty, like he had been extremely stressed. It was unsurprising, taking into account the recent events. Crowley didn’t dare move in case he scared Aziraphale away. He felt the angel curl his fingers around his own, his thumb caressing Crowley’s stupid, shaking hand the way Aziraphale knew he liked. Aziraphale’s words were still torturing him, like a heavenly choir.
Aziraphale continued caressing him, not minding the fact that the demon was completely still, not even moving his own fingers to return the affection. Crowley could see the angel reflected on the window, and he observed him, not daring to look at him directly. It was silly to do so, as Aziraphale wasn’t looking at him either. The angel had his eyes fixed on their linked hands.
“You know, my dear, I have been really stupid. You were right and I didn’t listen to you.”
Crowley hated when Aziraphale undermined himself that way. He wanted to say something, to tell him that even if he agreed that what Aziraphale had done was dumb, he was in fact very clever. Crowley opened his mouth, but Aziraphale continued speaking and Crowley didn’t dare interrupt him.
“I hurt you in the worst of ways. I should have stayed by your side, ditching Heaven for good. How could I believe they would listen to me, that they would choose to not have this war?” Aziraphale let a dry laugh escape his mouth. His eyes were wet, and Crowley was hating every minute of this.
“The only thing I did right today was going to your side as soon as I came back to Earth discorporated. It’s amazing how it’s in the worst moments when your true priorities come to light.”
Aziraphale lifted Crowley’s hands and kissed it, his soft lips only a caress against Crowley’s skin.
“I am so sorry my dear. All the things I told you in the bandstand were to protect you, to drive you away so you could be safe. I’m sorry it took me this long to see that I don’t need to believe in Heaven to be an angel, and that I don’t need them at all. I need you. Sorry I was stranded and lost, and it took me so long to come back to you.”
Crowley was shaking with his whole body now. His heart came alive, at last, all numbness disappearing. The traitorous heaven choir in his mind shut up for good. He slowly turned around, his hand still in the angel’s, and he looked at Aziraphale. The angel was crying quietly, his eyes filled with fear. Crowley realized, in shock, that Aziraphale feared his reaction. It was unbelievable to think that Aziraphale could ever think that Crowley wouldn’t forgive him. He perfectly understood Aziraphale’s reasons even if they made him sad. Now he knew for sure Aziraphale loved him and would always come back to him – that was more than enough for Crowley.
“Angel, it doesn’t matter how long you take to come back to me. I will always wait for you. Don’t ever doubt that.” Crowley’s voice sounded a bit broken, emotion overcoming him.
Aziraphale smiled, his eyes finally twinkling in that way of his. He laughed, relieved, and Crowley returned the smile. He felt like he was home already. His eyes were watery too, but he restrained the tears, because he was a demon and demons didn’t cry. Even if the only other being in his side wouldn’t have cared if he cried or not.
Crowley put his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder, feeling his body finally relax.
“Do you remember a few years ago, all that burlesque business?” said Aziraphale, breaking the gentle silence that had settled between them.
“How could I forget it.” Crowley had a teasing grin on his face. Those memories had fuelled some of his alone time the past few years.
“I miss them. It was so exciting to do all that, and your reactions were amazing. You were quite the sight.”
Crowley blushed. The angel knew perfectly well what his words did to him, the bastard. He tried to gather some dignity.
“I can show you more reactions in my flat, if you want.” Crowley tried to sound seductive, but the emotions he was still feeling after their heart-to-heart conversation made him sound more pleading than he wished.
Aziraphale grinned, all traces of tears long gone. The future was uncertain, but they had just survived the Apocalypse and they were sitting next to each other, holding hands. Aziraphale wanted to be as positive as he could, trying not to think about his poor bookshop, and enjoy these moments with Crowley. He also had a prophecy burning in his pocket – the promise of some sort of solution to their situation.
They got to Crowley’s flat. Aziraphale tried not to criticize Crowley’s choice in decoration too much like he usually did. Crowley opened a bottle of some decent wine, judging by the smell coming of it, and Aziraphale sighed happily. He had not liked the cheap wine they had just shared and wanted to make the lingering taste disappear.
They sat down on Crowley’s sofa (which was miraculously more comfortable than before – either of them addressed it) and drank the whole bottle, their laughs filling the cold flat. Crowley wrapped himself around the angel, seeking warmth, and Aziraphale let him be.
His drunken mind went to recent events. They had suffered so much. Aziraphale was certain that they deserved some peace, to be able to live happily without any worries. He was more than tired of all this drama with Heaven and Hell, and he wanted it to be done with.
His mind drifted; it jumped from one event to the other, eventually leading to what had started their current relationship. Aziraphale thought of the fight he and Crowley had over holy water. It made him sad to remember it, his own fear manipulating everything he did. But it hadn’t been just that manipulating him, right? Heaven’s puritan ideas had controlled every step he took. He had tried so hard to fit in with the rest of angels, never really achieving it. Hell had also influenced his decisions, making him scared that they would do something to Crowley. Aziraphale had really thought Crowley would rather kill himself than be dragged to Hell again.
A thought came to his mind, sobering his mind. Crowley being dragged to Hell. They were surely going to do something to him, now that it was all out in the open. It had to be that – Beelzebub had been so clearly furious at the Apocalypse being stopped. There was no way they would be allowed to live happily ever after. And how would Hell kill Crowley once and for all? The answer was clear as, well, holy water.
He gently shook Crowley, who had drifted to sleep at some point. He was probably dead tired, and Aziraphale felt kind of bad waking him up, but there were more pressing things to take care of.
“Dear, wake up.”
“Do you still have the holy water I gave you?”
Crowley blinked at him, still not really awake. “The what now?”
Aziraphale huffed, impatient. “The tartan thermos I gave you. With holy water. Do you still have some of it?”
Crowley looked around him like he was expecting the thermos to just miracle itself into view, his limbs still all around Aziraphale.
“Ah, no, I used it all against Ligur. Will not be missed.”
“Why?” asked Crowley.
“I think Hell will come for you, and I wanted you to splash them with holy water before they could do anything to you. Ah, well, we’ll have to find another solution. Can I have my thermos back at least?”
Crowley groaned. He really didn’t want to untangle himself from the angel, but Aziraphale was already standing up. Before he could descend from Aziraphale’s lap, the angel took him in his arms like he weighted nothing. Crowley snapped his mouth shut in an instant, his head spinning. Either Aziraphale was completely unaware of his effect on Crowley, or he knew perfectly well and used it to shut Crowley’s protests up. Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s neck, snuggling against it.
“Well, are you going to tell me where it is?” Aziraphale sounded amused.
“Oh, yeah, hm.” Crowley cleared his throat, trying to look as cool as he could while being princess-carried. “It’s on the table in the living room.”
Aziraphale walked towards the room and deposited a protesting Crowley on the ground. The thermos was there as promised, completely empty. Something caught Aziraphale’s eyes. The Mona Lisa sketch had been moved, revealing a safe he had not seen before. He arched an eyebrow at Crowley.
“I couldn’t just have holy water lying around my flat.”
Aziraphale approached the safe and saw the door was slightly opened.
“No, wait -- “
Aziraphale didn’t listen to Crowley and pushed the door completely open, peeking inside. The safe was not empty – there were some familiar objects there.
A poster with his own image, with a lipstick mark on it. A red camelia, somehow still as beautiful as when he had miracled it. A sparkling bowtie Aziraphale had thought he had lost somewhere.
He felt a lump in his throat. Crowley had kept these objects in the manner of precious things, inside this safe. Crowley, keeping these things all those years, like they were treasures.
He turned around to look at Crowley. The demon was completely red, staring at his shoes like they were suddenly very interesting. Aziraphale stood there for a moment, just looking at Crowley, his heart beating. He then rushed to him, took off his glasses, leaving them on the table, and kissed him, trying to convey all the emotions rushing through him.
There was something in kissing Aziraphale that was addictive. Aziraphale’s soft lips touched him like a prayer for which words didn’t exist, his heart healed by his angelic contact. Crowley pressed his body against Aziraphale’s familiar one. He felt like it didn’t matter how many times he touched Aziraphale, he would never really get used to it.
Aziraphale surrounded his hips with his arms, making Crowley arch his body against him. Crowley’s hands were getting lost in short, fluffy hair, and his tongue had found its place inside Aziraphale’s mouth. Crowley moaned, pressing even more against Aziraphale, wanting to feel if Aziraphale was as hard as him. Crowley was delighted to find it was true. He disentangled one of his hands from Aziraphale’s hair, and caressed Aziraphale’s cock through the fabric.
Aziraphale responded immediately by biting Crowley’s lip.
“Be good to me, dear. More.”
Crowley obeyed, and applied more intention to his movement. The teasing lasted two seconds, as Crowley unfastened Aziraphale’s buttons to put his hand inside his trousers. The skin to skin contact made Aziraphale buck his hips – Crowley felt the movement with his whole body, Aziraphale’s cock twitching against his hand. He worshipped Aziraphale’s length until the angel was a moaning mess. He sped up his rhythm until Aziraphale came, his final moan filling the room.
Crowley was about to miracle his hand clean, but Aziraphale took him by the wrist and brought his hand to his mouth. Aziraphale licked it, pink tongue following the shape of Crowley’s thin fingers, making him shudder at the sight. He felt like he could come just by looking at Aziraphale, licking his own come from Crowley’s hands, making sounds of pleasure like he was tasting a dessert. Aziraphale took Crowley’s fingers out of his mouth with a pop and licked his lips. His eyelashes fluttered.
“Shall we take this to the bedroom, my love?”
Crowley swallowed. He was soft for all of Aziraphale’s endearments and the angel knew it. Aziraphale knew way too well how to make Crowley weak at the knees, but Crowley didn’t mind. Not really.
He followed Aziraphale into his own bedroom, his hand in the angel’s. The bed was large enough for the two of them, not that having a small bed would have stopped the angel.
Aziraphale took him again in his arms and landed him on the bed, pinning him. Crowley saw Aziraphale leaning on him from above, strong hands pressing him against the mattress, and felt his cock twitch in response. Aziraphale kissed him on the lips, then his jaw and neck. Crowley wiggled in a serpentine way, trying to get out of Aziraphale’s grip – he wanted to touch the angel too, to love him and make him feel good until he couldn’t move, but Aziraphale didn’t let him.
“Let me return what you did to me that concert night.”
Aziraphale’s voice was low and gentle, a promise Crowley couldn’t deny. Aziraphale’s eyes, that had gone dark with lust, suddenly softened.
“If you want to of course.”
Crowley laughed at this. “I don’t think you could ever do something I wouldn’t want. But thanks for asking. I’ll definitely tell you if I want to stop.”
Aziraphale nodded, and his eyes turned dark again. He started undressing Crowley meticulously, his plump fingers retracing the shape of his body. Oh, how he had missed this. He had loved their little recreation in the parking lot, but he had really wanted to do this, love his demon properly, having all the night to themselves. They needed to trace a plan for what was coming, but they could think about it later. There was a time for everything, and this was theirs.
Aziraphale kissed and licked the skin he was slowly revealing. He loved the way Crowley whimpered and moved against his weight, trying to free himself without really wanting to. He had always loved the way Crowley reacted to Aziraphale’s attention and care, his flustered face and snake eyes looking at him adoringly. The angel always let Crowley spoil him and Aziraphale liked to return his affection.
His mouth followed the lines of Crowley’s torso, fingers tracing lines on Crowley’s waist. He liked the way Crowley’s hips moved when he felt the contact. Aziraphale put his hand on Crowley’s chest, grounding him gently, his other hand still doing circular moves now on Crowley’s hip bone. The skin was delicate and sensitive there, and it made Crowley shudder. Crowley’s hands were grabbing the blanket, trying not to touch Aziraphale, to let Aziraphale do it his way.
Aziraphale playfully tugged at Crowley’s buttons, not really trying to open them. Crowley whimpered, impatient, making Aziraphale chuckle. Oh, the bastard. Crowley made a mental note to get back at him for laughing at his suffering.
Aziraphale licked his belly, just above Crowley’s trousers. The hand on his chest moved and went to play with one of Crowley’s nipples. The licking turned into biting, and Crowley felt his cock twitch again, wanting more, always more.
Finally, Aziraphale undid his trousers. He straightened his back for a better angle and slowly slid them out. They got stuck by Crowley’s feet – they were too tight.
“How on Earth could you even breathe with these on?” said Aziraphale, exasperated, tugging at the trousers.
“It’s not as if you don’t appreciate the views.”
Aziraphale looked at a grinning Crowley. “Well, I suppose you’re right.”
Aziraphale tugged once more, taking the trousers off for good this time. He carefully folded them and was about to stand up and leave them somewhere, when an exasperated cry stopped him. Crowley snapped his fingers and all his remaining clothes disappeared.
“Oh, did you really need to do that? I wanted to be the one undressing you.” Aziraphale pouted.
Crowley rolled his eyes. “Look, angel, I love watching you being fussy, but I have waited too long to have you again. Please.” The last word came out more pleading than Crowley would ever admit – Aziraphale was kind enough not to point it out.
The angel sighed. “I hope you miracled your clothes neatly folded somewhere.”
“Of course, my angel.” Crowley was starting to sound condescending. Aziraphale arched an eyebrow. He couldn’t wait to make the demon swallow his sarcasm.
He needed to ask a question first, though.
“Why do I still have my clothes on?”
Crowley propped himself on his elbow, his grin looking more dangerous.
“Because I love watching you undress.”
Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “So, you don’t have the patience for me to undress you, but you do for watching me strip?”
Crowley said nothing and just wiggled his eyebrows. Good Lord give me patience. Aziraphale did say he wanted to pay back for the stunt on the Bentley, and the look Crowley was giving him was worth waiting a bit to make the demon scream.
Aziraphale undid his bowtie, and slowly slid it out, not diverting his eyes from Crowley’s. Aziraphale took off his jacket. He undid one, then two buttons of his waistcoat, his fingers working methodically. Crowley flickered his tongue between his teeth. Aziraphale removed his waistcoat and started working on his shirt. He could feel Crowley’s impatience grow, his fingers drumming against his chin. Aziraphale carefully unbuttoned it, not wanting to damage the precious buttons, and folded the shirt too, putting it aside. He could go faster, and he knew Crowley knew that too. The angel was kind of enjoying seeing Crowley squirm, full of impatience, yellow eyes staring at his too slowly working fingers. Aziraphale started working on his trousers.
“Okay, enough, please, I get it. I want you now, I’m sorry.” Crowley extended his hands to help him.
Aziraphale smiled, smugly, and snapped his fingers, miracling himself naked and placing his clothes neatly folded on a chair. Crowley sighed, finally seeing his angel without his clothes. He really should know better – when would he learn his schemes always turned on him?
Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s neck, pulling him closer for a deep kiss. He moaned, feeling Aziraphale’s skin against his own. The angel’s arms cuddled him, his hands slowly caressing Crowley’s back. Aziraphale’s weight was grounding Crowley against the mattress. Crowley surrounded Aziraphale’s waist with his legs, pulling the angel even closer.
The angel tasted sweet and Crowley couldn’t get enough. He rocked his hips against Aziraphale, feeling the angel’s hardness against him. Aziraphale moaned in his mouth and Crowley felt his soul leave his body.
Aziraphale kissed Crowley’s jaw, then his neck. Crowley felt Aziraphale’s hands making circular movements on his back, then nails scratching all the way to his hips, making him thrust against Aziraphale. Aziraphale moved, and his mouth ended up kissing Crowley’s belly like before, his breath too close to Crowley’s twitching cock. Crowley’s hands grabbed Aziraphale’s hair the moment the angel took him in his mouth.
Maybe Aziraphale couldn’t do weird things with his tongue like Crowley did, but he sure knew how to use it. Aziraphale licked all of Crowley’s length before taking him into his mouth again. His tongue played with the head, and he hollowed his mouth. Crowley arched his back, whimpering. Aziraphale was grabbing his hips, immobilizing him.
Crowley looked at him, and the sight of Aziraphale nearly made him come. He looked positively sinful, red cheeks and batting eyelashes, pretty mouth working on Crowley. He could see his pretty hands grabbing him, making the muscles in his arms more defined below all that delicious softness. Crowley moaned again, and Aziraphale hummed in response, making Crowley buck his hips again.
Aziraphale moved one of his hands and started giving attention to his entrance. Crowley trembled at that.
Aziraphale took his cock out of his mouth, a trace of saliva and precum on his lips. “Everything okay?”
His voice sounded rough. Crowley made a noise, then cleared his throat. “Yeah, more than okay.”
Aziraphale smiled and took him again in his mouth. His finger continued caressing his entrance, not really doing more than that; Aziraphale had always been a tease.
Aziraphale grinned around his cock. He miracled some lube on his fingers and finally one entered. Crowley made a noise he would have been ashamed of in other circumstances. Aziraphale carefully moved the finger, stretching the area and miracling some more lube.
Aziraphale slid the second finger in without warning. Crowley released Aziraphale’s hair to grab the blankets with force. He could feel Aziraphale’s impatience, but also his love and care. He thrust his hips again. Aziraphale decided to take his cock out of his mouth at that moment, making Crowley whine for the loss.
Aziraphale moved his fingers in and out. He was looking at Crowley like he was a piece of cake and he hadn’t eaten in a long time, and in some way, it was just like that. Crowley hissed and moved chasing Aziraphale’s fingers.
“I want you… I want to make you feel good too...” Crowley begged.
Aziraphale’s eyes shone. “You always take good care of me. You’re too good and lovely, my demon, my heart.”
Aziraphale took his own cock in his free hand and stroked it using lube. He put the head in Crowley’s entrance and pushed, making Crowley gasp. Aziraphale continued pushing, gently, taking the time for Crowley to get used to it. Crowley arched his back, taking all of it in. He felt the angel pulse inside of him, and he began rocking slightly, wanting to feel more.
Aziraphale bent over him, his hands at each side of Crowley, leaning on the bed. He started moving, thrusting into him. Aziraphale could see Crowley underneath him, his head thrown a bit backwards, showing his throat. His red hair was sticking to his forehead, and his eyes were full of love, making Aziraphale’s heart drum. He quickened his pace, wanting to hear more of Crowley’s voice, make him dig his nails even more in his back – to feel Crowley in every way, connected to him. He could feel Crowley’s cock hard and leaking precum against his stomach.
Crowley’s hands caressed his back, grabbed his butt. He slid his hands upwards again, digging his hands in all the soft spots, moaning all the way. Aziraphale had always loved the way Crowley took care of him – gentle hands grabbing and worshipping, mouth discovering all the places that needed attention.
Crowley wrapped his arms against Aziraphale’s neck and pushed him to the side with sudden force. Aziraphale gasped in surprise, and let Crowley move him. The angel found himself lying on his back this time, Crowley slithering on top of him, taking him in again. The demon began riding him, his impossible hips moving with a rapid rhythm that made the angel moan.
Crowley had lost his patience, his desire to pleasure the angel overcoming him. Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s hips, his movements following Crowley’s.
Crowley’s cock was bobbing between them, unattended, so Aziraphale took it in one of his hands, making Crowley clench all around him. Crowley slowed the pace a bit, making circular motions with his hips, while Aziraphale stroked him. The sound of skin against skin was filling the room, making Aziraphale twitch at the realization of it. Crowley quickened again.
“I love to see you this way, moving on top of me.” Aziraphale breathed.
Crowley groaned. He was feeling very sensitive - Aziraphale’s tongue earlier had nearly made him come. Being able to fuck Aziraphale like this, hear him praise him between moans was driving him near the edge. Aziraphale wasn’t far off either - he felt Aziraphale’s cock pulse inside of him.
Aziraphale admired Crowley’s body, the way it moved on top of him, his hands on his chest to steady himself. His beloved and gorgeous demon, making him feel good, clenching around him. He felt Crowley spilling in his hands, a deep voice coming from his throat. Aziraphale saw the mess he was, the orgasm making his legs shake. This vision was enough to reach his own orgasm, his toes curling.
Crowley collapsed on top of him. Aziraphale hugged him, slowly caressing Crowley’s back in a soothing way. He kissed the demon’s forehead. Crowley moved to his side, pulling Aziraphale out of him, and miracled them both cleaned. Aziraphale’s arms were still around him, and Crowley happily rested his head on his chest.
Crowley was starting to doze off. Aziraphale wanted to focus on this happy feeling, on the relaxed demon against his body, finally together again. But he couldn’t. Now Aziraphale had his mind cleared he kept thinking of the danger lurking around them. He had left the final prophecy in his pocket, with the rest of the clothes on his chair. They should think of a plan, of a way to come out of everything alive.
He closed his eyes and sighed. The night hadn’t ended yet. Aziraphale had been feeling that they had all night to themselves, and it wasn’t entirely just a hunch – Heaven and Hell needed some time to calm down their troops after the failed Apocalypse. The angel considered this – maybe they could relax for a bit and think about it later. Maybe with a cup of tea. He was very tired – tired of this Armageddon business, being scared of their own lives, worrying if this moment together was going to be their last one.
Aziraphale nearly felt bad for interrupting Crowley’s starting nap again, just like before on the couch. Nearly.
“It’s been a long time since either of us danced.”
Crowley rested his chin on Aziraphale’s soft chest to look at him directly in the face. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well, I thought that, maybe, we could dance for a bit. We just saw the world nearly being destroyed and, well…”
“Lovely thought, angel, but even though I’m a demon and I could go for several rounds, I do feel a bit tired.”
Aziraphale blushed. “Oh no, I don’t mean that type of dance. I meant a slow dance, if you wanted to.”
Crowley looked at the fidgeting angel, arching one eyebrow. Aziraphale felt a bit nervous, thinking that maybe it would have been best to let the demon rest. Crowley had an inscrutable expression that made Aziraphale remember that he really valued his sleep. He was about to dismiss the idea when Crowley finally answered.
“Okay then. But only if I choose the song.”
Aziraphale smiled, making his dimples appear. Crowley hoped the angel wouldn’t insist on choosing the song himself looking like that, because he wouldn’t resist it.
They got up. Aziraphale miracled them both in cozy pajamas. Aziraphale miracled himself a tartan one, surprising no one, but was kind enough to miracle a black one for Crowley. Until, upon further inspection, Crowley realized it had a darker tartan pattern on top of the black. He frowned and glared at Aziraphale accusingly.
“Tartan is stylish”, Aziraphale defended.
His tone wasn’t open for discussion and Crowley decided not to push it. He could take it for once, as at least it was black and no one else would see him wearing it. He snapped his fingers, miracling the song to play. It came from nowhere and everywhere at the same time, as if the walls themselves were speakers.
Crowley put a hand on Aziraphale’s waist, his other hand taking Aziraphale’s. The angel put his free hand on Crowley’s shoulder.
Love me tender, love me sweet
Never let me go
You have made my life complete
And I love you so
Aziraphale looked at Crowley, surprised. He had expected some kind of bebop, not a song this soft. Crowley had a tiny smile on his lips, his eyes sweet. Aziraphale felt his heart grow a bit bigger, his love for this silly demon filling it.
They swayed to the slow pace of the song, relishing each other’s presence. Aziraphale closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Crowley’s, turning his head a bit, their cheeks touching too, short hair tickling against his skin.
Love me tender, love me long
Take me to your heart
For it's there that I belong
And will never part
Aziraphale felt his eyes fill with tears, his own happiness surrounding him. He loved Crowley and always would. He wanted to live all of eternity with him, experience all the world’s wonders with his hand in his. He had so many hopes for a future where they could dance as many times as they wanted to all the soft songs and bebop in history. He felt frustrated. Why couldn’t they be left alone to live this love together? He now knew he had to take things in his own hands, make a difference.
He moved slowly, taking Crowley’s face in his hands. Crowley leaned his head on Aziraphale’s touch, his eyes filled with love. Aziraphale kissed him tenderly.
Love me tender, love me dear
Tell me you are mine
I'll be yours through all the years
Till the end of time
The end of time could be that very night, for them. This could be their last dance. Aziraphale was happy either way, because he had Crowley there, with him, and that was enough.
His fighting intentions were for Crowley. To protect him and the love he had showed Aziraphale. The angel knew that the greatest form of love he had experienced was Crowley’s, and he would give his life for him. The very thought of Crowley getting hurt for the crime of falling in love was unfathomable.
The song ended, and they stood there, embracing each other. Aziraphale hugged Crowley, resting his head in the crook of Crowley’s neck, not wanting to part just yet and let this moment be finished. The lyrics of the song were turning around in his head. Take me to your heart, for it's there that I belong, and will never part... Tell me you are mine I'll be yours through all the years…
ye must choofe your faces wisely…
Aziraphale gasped. Maybe that was it – they had to never part, take each other into the heart, or in this case, into the other’s body. Literally.
He explained his plan to Crowley.
“See? You are so clever, I told you so.”
Aziraphale giggled. This wasn’t going to be their last dance; he was now sure.
They were dining at the Ritz. Aziraphale was talking, his eyes bright and his hands moving everywhere, excitedly explaining something to Crowley about a book or another. Crowley was hypnotized, looking at him. Gratitude was turning around in his veins. They had survived, unscathed, Aziraphale’s plan working perfectly. The angel had even got a bit feral asking for a duck. Crowley suppressed a laugh at the thought, not wanting to startle the angel.
They had left the garden. The future was now theirs to decide.
Crowley took Aziraphale’s hand because he just could. He wanted to feel his fingers in his hand, and slowly caress the back of his hand, so he did. In public, in broad daylight. Aziraphale gave him a soft smile and continued his explanation. Crowley was only too happy to listen.
Their food came. Aziraphale wiggled with excitement, and after squeezing his hand one last time, he let it go to focus on his food.
Aziraphale tasted the first bite of his duck, moaning appreciatively. The food was excellent; a ballotine of duck liver served with a port jelly, damson gel and a garnish of wood sorrel. On the side was pistachio cake as well as toasted brioche. Crowley leaned towards the angel, not caring much about his own serving; he much preferred to watch Aziraphale.
Aziraphale made a noise, like an exclamation, and swallowed. Crowley looked at him inquisitively, wondering what had just gone through Aziraphale’s mind.
“I almost forgot!”
“What, angel?” Crowley looked around, expecting to see some danger going towards them.
Then the angel grinned. “I have a bit of a surprise for you.”
His voice was velvety, the type of voice that sent shivers through Crowley’s spine. The demon straightened his back at that.
Aziraphale nodded. “And I think you’ll like it very much. It involves some new lingerie and some dancing.”
Crowley widened his eyes, shocked to hear the angel say such things calmly while eating in public. He refrained the desire to take Aziraphale away from there, damned be the duck and the potential desserts (and Aziraphale making lewd sounds while eating).
“I think you’re going to greatly enjoy it. I have to confess, though, that my favourite dance of all is definitely the horizontal one.”
Crowley groaned, raising his hands exasperatedly. Aziraphale continued eating like it was nothing.
“How can you say that! Please don’t…” Aziraphale looked at him sideways, smugly. “It was such a bad joke… please don’t say that ever again! And in public…”
Crowley continued like this for a bit. He was bad at hiding he was, in fact, very embarrassed. Aziraphale continued to enjoy his food, but not as much as he enjoyed the spectacle that flustered Crowley was. Little did the demon know he was in for many more flustered moments.