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It had started with Crowley commenting on how dull Aziraphale’s bookshop looked. They had gotten into a playful argument, Aziraphale saying that his bookshop was indeed decorated plentiful with his rare and precious books scattering the walls. Crowley however had not been pleased by the answer. Because to him, books were not a decoration in a bookshop of all places, and before Aziraphale had any time to object, Crowley had left the bookshop and jumped into the on his way to the nearest greenhouse to buy some decorative flowers for his angel.
And an hour and a half later, he was back, trying to find the perfect places to put up the ten new flowers evenly spaced out to, while Aziraphale gratefully thanked his lover for the kind gesture and asked what he could do to repay him.
Crowley of course, being a kind and awkward demon had simply said that he didn’t need anything in return, which Aziraphale immediately shut down.
“Dear boy, you always do such caring gestures for me and I want to do something back to you in return. How about I help you groom your wings?”
Crowley felt himself immediately blush as he slowly nodded. He was barely used to anyone touching him after millennia of being basically touch starved. He still felt weird when Aziraphale occasionally held his hand even if he liked it. But grooming another person’s wings, that was a lot more intimate than anything he had ever experienced before.
Still, he did feel safe enough to let Aziraphale fulfill what he had suggested, and before they knew it Crowley sat on a stool with his wings summoned, large and charred black like always. He looked pretty majestic if he could say so himself, he took pride in his wings. And as Aziraphale placed his hands on them, he let out a quick yelp at the sensation of someone other than him touching his wings, it was quite nice, and he already enjoyed it. It was a nice and relaxing experience with Aziraphale carefully trying to put his stray feathers in place while removing any dirt. The wings were his most fragile part of his body, the easiest one to be injured, and he showed his great trust in Aziraphale when he let him this close.
“Your wings are lovely my dear, and more well kept than I assumed they would be.” Aziraphale told him while Crowley laughed.
“You think my wings are unkempt just because I’m a demon?” he asked as a joke, only to hear the angel laugh back at him.
“Oh heavens no,” he began as he plucked away a stray black feather that was badly damaged and put it on the table. “But with your reputation for running into dangerous activities for fun I thought your wings paid the price. You always travel to America each year for Black Friday to try to crowdsurf in the electronics stores, as an example.”
“Hey, that’s quality fun, something you should try angel. And it’s not that you’re so innocent yourself, it was after all you who started the tradition of photobombing photographs being taken at important historical moments with your wings out . I still have the uncensored photo of King George’s funeral and the one of the Queen’s coronation with your wings clearly visible.”
Another feather plucked.
“Well, at least I did not appear with my wings together with Churchill of all people when he became the prime minister, or on stage with Queen.”
“You photobombed Thatcher, the shot of Sarajevo and the end of the second world war, I think Queen is actually pretty unproblematic. Though your wings looked amazing in the uncensored pictures, I still have copies.”
“Of course you do.” Aziraphale replied in a sigh. “Now my dears, do you want me to comb your wings as well? I think it would really give your feathers a beautiful look to it.”
“Go on, I really enjoy this.”
“Okay, one wing combing coming up.”