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“So—” Nina said casually as Aziraphale appeared in her coffee shop for the second time that day. She didn’t know why she felt so nosy, perhaps her own failed relationship had made her anxious to needle someone else for a change, keep her mind occupied on anything other than the godforsaken texts she’d been bombarded with for the last few hours. Talking to Crowley had proven-- interesting to say the least. It seemed to her perfectly obvious that they were in love with one another, but Crowley had been doubtful at best. Naturally, Nina had decided perhaps it best to speak with Mr. Fell. After all, he had always struck her as rather intelligent. The way he spoke and carried himself. He was posh that was to be sure, and that didn’t always speak of intelligence not in any real sense, but something about Mr. Fell gave her the impression he always knew more than he let on. After careful consideration, she had decided to have Maggie along with her, she told herself it was for moral support, but she knew it was a bit more than that.
“Spoke to your friend earlier," Nina said.
“Oh?” Aziraphale asked if he was surprised he made no mention of it. Nina wondered how far she could push before the man clammed up completely.
“Yes, I suppose I may have made some assumptions. Felt rather bad about it,” she lied.
“Assumptions?” Aziraphale asked. “About him?”
“About both of you,” she corrected.
“Oh?” Aziraphale repeated, clearly looking curious. “What sort of—assumptions then?”
“Oh no, I shouldn’t say,” Nina said trying to look embarrassed as she cleaned the shop.
“I’m sure it can’t be as bad as all that,” Aziraphale said with a warm smile. Nina barely suppressed her own grin.
“Well— I had simply inquired how long the two of you had been together. You know—an intimacy like that isn’t something that happens overnight. And I’ve seen him at the bookshop enough times. The way you look at each other, the way he trails after you like a dutiful husband, I suppose I just thought—” she trailed off.
“Oh,” Aziraphale said after a long moment. “Oh!” He looked as though he might laugh. “Oh, I see. I suppose we do rather give that impression. I can’t say you’re the first to notice it in six—” At this he paused. “In all our time here.” Nina raised an eyebrow at that but made no mention of it. “Crowley and I are—from opposite sides of the tracks I suppose you might say.”
“That sort of thing doesn’t matter anymore surely. Or is your family rather traditional?” Maggie cut in, she had mostly kept quiet, watching the exchange, she hadn't been there to witness Nina's conversation with Nina after all.
“The most traditional,” Aziraphale explained gravely. “They would never go for that sort of thing.”
“Hmm,” Nina frowned at that.
Aziraphale sighed, “I confess though, I’ve never minded as such. People assuming we were—more than we are. In a different world perhaps we could be.”
“For what it’s worth, Mr. Fell, I think your feelings are very much requited,” Maggie said.
Aziraphale blushed at that. “Oh—I don’t know, even if they were, it would only complicate things.”
Maggie frowned, “I understand that you’re clearly from a very traditional family, and by the looks of that ring on your pinky, very religious too, and I can imagine being a gay man of a certain age it can’t be easy. But Mr. Fell— you deserve to be happy you know. It’s obvious that he makes you happy, you make each other happy. I mean you already act like an old married couple, why not just take a leap of faith?”
“A leap of faith,” Aziraphale repeated quietly, the irony of the expression was not lost on him.
“Trust that he would catch you if you fell, and all that,” Maggie said.
Aziraphale’s eyes went wide at that. “Yes, yes I rather suppose he would catch me,” he swallowed. “Though I’m not quite as strong as he is, I’m not sure I could survive the Fall like he did.”
Neither Nina nor Maggie could properly understand what Mr. Fell was saying, they thought they did as humans often did when speaking to either Aziraphale or Crowley, but nothing could have been further from the truth. And yet—they smiled all the same.
“You never know until you take that leap,” Nina said. “I think it would be worth it for both of you.”
Aziraphale swallowed, and he nodded, “Thank you, Nina, Maggie. Your advice has been invaluable as always,” he paused for just a moment, eying Nina, as if sensing the trouble she had been going through in her own life, then with the smallest gesture of his hand, Nina felt awash in a comfort she hadn’t felt in quite some time. The feeling that perhaps everything would be okay after all. Even if things didn’t work out with Lindsay, she’d survive. She always did. And wasn’t that something? He smiled at Maggie then, gesturing with his head hoping to impart without so many words that she should perhaps talk with the other woman more. Maggie blushed as Aziraphale slipped out of the coffee shop, if she was brave enough to talk more, well Aziraphale didn't need to witness it to know it would bear the sweetest of fruit.
* * *
He would catch you if you fell, Aziraphale repeated the words in his mind for the umpteenth time. If only they knew, Aziraphale had thought. If only they understood just how close to home such a suggestion was.
The question was not whether Aziraphale was willing to Fall, he had contemplated such a thing a million times over by now. After the Job incident, Aziraphale had been quite convinced that it was inevitable that he would Fall. And every moment thereafter when he had defied Heaven he had found himself wondering. Would he Fall? He hadn’t. Somehow. In fact, the punishment after his thwarting Armageddon along with Crowley had never been the threat of a Fall. It had been complete and utter annihilation. Which begged the question, how did one Fall now?
If defying Heaven so brazenly had not actually done it. If lying to God Herself had not done it if falling in love with a demon, and countless other things he had done across six thousand years had not been enough, then what would? Was he to declare himself God? Or perhaps worship some other God over the Almighty? He thought about this last one carefully, the only being he would ever consider bowing before was and would always be Crowley. He wondered how that would be received by the demon. Truth be told even that was not assured. What if he did all of that and still didn’t Fall? Crowley had Fallen for asking questions, but that was then— before Hell even existed. Before they knew it was wrong to even ask, before they knew what the punishment would be.
Aziraphale knew full well the punishment he would find. He had seen Hell first hand, after all, it was dingy and damp, not unlike Wessex had been not all that long ago. It was hot too, impossibly so, and yet, all of that would be worth it for Crowley.
Crowley may have been the demon who had sauntered vaguely downwards out of Heaven but Aziraphale rather thought he would be the demon who had swan-dived out of Heaven if he had any choice in the matter. For the love of a demon. He nearly laughed. A horrible thought occurred to him then. Angels were meant to be beings of love, now love as it was in Heaven was very different from Earthly love, from romance, that he knew, but a sacrifice like this one, in the name of love felt as similar to the two schools of thought as one could be, which begged the question. What if it didn’t cause him to Fall? What if the very nature of the sacrifice itself meant that he could not possibly Fall? He was and he wasn’t doing so for selfish reasons, but he wasn’t sure if it was enough. What was the expectation here?
He knew he couldn’t tell Crowley, not yet anyway. He loved the demon that much was clear and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Crowley loved him too—had loved him for it was hard to say really, but the clincher that had proved it had been the church in 1941. Crowley had done what should have been impossible for any demon. In fact, Aziraphale was quite certain that had any other demon attempted what he had done they surely would have been immolated. But Crowley had imagination and love and that had kept him safe. He had rescued his angel in distress once again—Aziraphale was unintentionally fond of that role, and well, that as well as saving his books had been more than proof in the angel’s book.
Crowley was protective over him, in a way that had made the angel feel anxious over the years. Not because he didn’t like it but because it felt dangerous. Crowley was always rescuing him from one thing or another and though Aziraphale had come to love it more than he dared admit, the potential consequences had always struck him as far too severe.
It was this very protective nature that stopped Aziraphale from being able to tell Crowley his plan. Of course, Crowley had always said they were on our side, but what did our side mean if they were constantly running from Heaven and Hell respectively? What did our side entail if they could never truly be free? And that was the thing, wasn’t it? Humans were—at least during their short lives free. They could choose to believe in Heaven or not, they could choose to believe in Hell or not. They could choose any combination in between, everything and nothing, and so many myriads of things. Crowley and Aziraphale had certainly seen enough religions during their long time on Earth. Gods and Goddesses for every imaginable human experience. Gods and Goddess of Love, Death, Springtime, War, Winter, of Drink— Aziraphale had only come to realize in the last hundred years or so that Dionysus had been more than slightly based after himself—round and with a love of food, wine, and all things hedonistic, well—Aziraphale wasn’t inane enough to not notice such things. Just as he knew that Gabriel had very much been the inspiration for Zeus, he had appeared in thunder more than a few times after all.
Shaking his head, Aziraphale tried desperately to keep his mind on the topic at hand. Falling. It was he supposed a necessary evil, forgive the expression. It was an odd sort of thing he realized. Crowley had fallen without ever knowing the consequences. Aziraphale knew what they were and still, he welcomed it with open arms. Should he pray for a Fall? Or waltz right into Hell and ask to be taken in? He had contemplated the idea before, just after the whole business with Adam and the end of the world. He hadn’t been serious then. Not as he was now. It seemed, Aziraphale thought, perhaps the only sensible action. He would throw himself at the mercy of Beelzebub and the other demons. Heaven’s punishments had been uncreative at best after the Fall and if he had any hope of becoming a demon he knew Hell would be all for it.
An angel waltzing brazenly into Hell would be an unexpected sight any day of the week, the fact that it was a Sunday on Earth (the Lord’s day for humans) was not lost on the angel, he had chosen it specifically to make a statement. An added thumb to the Almighty, just in case.
The denizens of Hell were surprised by the angel’s presence, none more so than the very one he had come to see first. “Lord Beelzebub,” Aziraphale said, offering a bow that had caught the Prince of Hell off guard.
“Aziraphale,” they said his name. “Friend of the traitor Crowley,” it was not a question.
“Now now,” Aziraphale said with a soft smile. “He is why I’m here after all. I do believe you’ve been a bit too hard on him.”
“How’s that, then?” Beelzebub asked, arms folded across their chest. “From how I see it, befriending you is proof enough that he’s a traitor to Hell.”
Aziraphale shrugged, “Perhaps. Or perhaps it had not occurred to you that he was in fact playing the long game.”
Beelzebub raised an eyebrow at that. “The what?”
“Human expression,” Aziraphale explained. “The longest con… six thousand years of one I do believe, making an angel believe that they are friends so that one day such a naive thing couldn’t help but feel well—” he paused, he had never said the words out loud before and to be saying them to Beelzebub before Crowley felt wrong somehow. “A great affection for the one other person on Earth who seemed to care so deeply for him. All the while slowly tempting him, slowly pulling him deeper and deeper down towards his own demise.”
Beelzebub looked surprised. “You don’t seem broken up about it if that’s the case.”
“Isn’t that the greatest of temptations then?” Aziraphale offered. “To be so good at it that in the end the one being tempted almost begs for release? For whatever it is that is on offer? That they would give anything, do anything for it?”
Beelzebub eyed him, somewhat suspiciously. “What are you saying then?”
Aziraphale hadn’t thought this through very well admittedly, he was not usually one to make rash decisions, and this was by far the most rash decision he had ever made. But he had come too far to back down now, Aziraphale was nothing if not stubborn. So he got down on his knees. “I am asking to be made one of you,” Aziraphale said.
At this Beelzebub snorted, “You're mad.”
Aziraphale frowned, this had not been the answer he had been expecting, but then, what had he expected? That Hell would open their arms to an angel and trust that he meant it?
“Shall I prove it to you? You know he’s taught me how to do my own temptations. I’ve been doing it for centuries as a matter of fact. I would argue I’m quite good at demonic work, better than the lot here I’m sure,” he grinned. If there was one thing Aziraphale knew it was that Pride and Vanity were easy enough to play upon, even for demons.
“You think you can tempt better than a demon? I’d like very much to see that,” Beelzebub said in challenge. They smirked at Aziraphale. “Rise then— and I shall set forth a challenge,” Aziraphale got to his feet carefully, barely resisting the urge to dust off his trousers. “I shall call upon one of our best tempters in Hell and we shall see which of you can tempt the most humans.”
“Simple enough,” he said. “If I win, then I shall become a demon.”
“And if you lose, well that’s my little secret,” they said with a wicked grin. Aziraphale was almost nervous to imagine what they had meant by that, but then, he had no doubt that he would in fact win. Aziraphale had been practicing this for several hundred years. “Oh, and one more thing—angel,” they added. “You’ll have to do the tempting miracleless.”
Aziraphale blinked, “What? Surely that’s not very sporting.”
“My game, my rules,” Beelzebub said. “The best tempters don’t need a miracle anyway. In fact, I do believe your friend Crowley said very much the same thing only last century. Incidentally,” they raised a hand and a flame appeared from the ceiling. “Meet your challenger.” And there, in the middle of the room, Crowley stood, looking rather confused, even more so upon seeing Aziraphale standing on the other side of the room.
“Fuck,” Aziraphale said under his breath. Evidently, Hell was as melodramatic as Heaven.
“I trust you need no introductions,” Beelzebub said with a wicked smirk. Crowley stood stock still and said nothing. “Crowley, it’s been a while. A gauntlet has been thrown by this angel here, who is quite insistent that he can out tempt our best tempter. You, Crowley, are that demon. The best tempter in the game. So. The rules will be simple. First to a hundred temptations, wins.”
Aziraphale smirked, determined, while Crowley kept his gaze on the floor. “On your mark,” Aziraphale straightened his bowtie and adjusted his jacket. “Get set,” he pulled up his shirt sleeves. “Tempt!” Beelzebub hissed, and with that, the two vanished.
Back on Earth, Aziraphale had barely managed to make it a few feet before Crowley had corned him, and slammed him hard up against the outside of the Dirty Donkey where they had just exited. “What the Heaven are you playing at Angel?” He growled.
“Never you mind,” Aziraphale hissed back. “Now if you don’t mind, I have a game to win.”
“Win… are you mad?” Crowley growled as Aziraphale pushed past him and sauntered into the pub. Aziraphale knew enough to know that despite a great many things like how he dressed, there had always been a certain allure to him that men could seldom seem to resist. Centuries earlier during the days of his Gavotte lessons, when Crowley had been asleep and Aziraphale had been terribly, terribly lonely, Aziraphale had used that allure to his own advantage. The phrase 'pass around party bottom' had not yet been invented and would not for almost a century and a half, but Aziraphale was certain he had been the first. Not intentionally mind, but well, Heaven had been rather busy and with Crowley gone, he had found himself with a lack of much else to do. This was not to say that Aziraphale had forgone his standards and that he did not even then have a type that seemed to involve wiry redheads with a bit of a temper. There was something about being manhandled as it were that had always done it for the angel, another term that had not exactly existed at the time.
The rules of the game had not strictly been to tempt humans to lust, but it seemed the easiest game of all of them, Aziraphale had thought as he entered the pub properly and took a seat. Miracles may have been forbidden for the duration of the game, though it struck Aziraphale that following the rules would have been rather undemonic of him in the first place— so instead he opted for a loophole. If he were to tempt humans to lust, the easiest and most obvious thing he would do is change his attire, not much mind, but enough that it would cause a stir. With a small miracle, hardly noticeable at that, several things happened all at once. His camel colored trousers had tightened, to show off his ample behind. His vest and overcoat had vanished, leaving only the soft blue button-down covering his frame. The bowtie had been forgone and in a particularly uncharacteristic move, Aziraphale’s hair had taken on an almost tousled fresh from-the-bed quality to it, upon his entrance. His lips were just a touch more pouty than usual, and he affected the sort of devil-may-care attitude he had employed when pretending to be Crowley so many years ago.
The angel could feel rather than see that apparently this temptation had had an effect on several of the men around him, including, he was amused to note, Crowley himself. He wondered if that counted as a temptation. An angel tempting a demon might have been a first for Hell, and if anything that spurred him on further. He had no actual intention of following through with anyone other than Crowley, of that Aziraphale was certain, but, he could feel the deck stacking in his favor as he took a seat.
As if in challenge, Crowley took the seat directly across from him, glaring at anyone who so much as dared to look the angel’s way. “You’re playing a dangerous game here, angel,” Crowley hissed.
“Am I?” Aziraphale asked, pouting a little.
“What are you hoping for here? Best me, the original tempter of Eden at a game of who can tempt the most humans and then what?”
“Well, you taught me everything you know Crowley dear, and let’s face it, I’m an excellent student.”
Crowley groaned, throwing his head back in his chair. “What’s the end game here, angel?”
“The end game, dear boy,” he said as a gentleman approached despite Crowley’s previous glares offering to buy him a drink. Aziraphale batted his eyelashes in a coquettish manner and nodded. “A sherry please,” he said. The man nodded and made his way over to the bar.
“You planning to actually bed him?”
“Hardly,” Aziraphale said. “The temptation is the point of it.”
“You’re not going to win this, you realize that. Whatever it is you want, I’m not going to let you win, and not because I give two shits about being the best tempter of the two of us, but nothing good can come from you playing this game.”
“Well then let the best occult figure win,” Aziraphale said with a shrug, taking the proffered sherry and downing it in one go. He placed a hand on the man’s shoulder and gave him a wink that made Crowley growl. In a flash the angel was up on his feet, he had slipped out to the pub before the demon could catch up to him. It was amusing to find their roles reversed now. Crowley attempting to thwart him while he tried to out tempt the demon. Still, he was slightly nervous. Crowley was a demon after all and as he’d said the original tempter, which meant that he more than anyone could probably tempt a hundred humans just with a smirk and a casual suggestion. All he needed was a crowd.
For the first time, Aziraphale missed the Soho of the 1960s, the Soho that had been filled with clubs of debauchery. It might have been easier to tempt a whole group that way. And then he remembered, not far from him was a discotheque that was not unlike the Portland Place club had been. Aziraphale had visited it a fair number of times over the years when he just felt like he needed to be in a room full of if not like-minded people, people who would not judge him for his fey tendencies. Mostly. There were those of the self loathing sort who tended to look down upon more effeminate men such as himself, but mostly he could be at peace there.
With a snap Aziraphale had appeared in the middle of the club excitedly, to his dismay however, Crowley had apparently beaten him to it, and was currently in the middle of the dance floor, half naked and attracting quite the audience. He supposed it was fair then that he should be tempted by the demon as he had previously tempted him, he caught himself staring at the body on display. His shirt was gone, and a surprising amount of muscle was on full display for all and sundry to peruse. Worse for Aziraphale was the red hair that seemed to cover almost the entirety of his body and that drove Aziraphale mad, particularly the thick amount that went from below his navel and disappeared beneath his trousers.
Aziraphale felt furious, he was going to lose if this kept up. Without much thought, Aziraphale miracled a fire alarm that would set off the sprinklers and set an end to the revelry. Crowley caught sight of him just as that happened, and his eyes lowered. Without warning, he crossed the space between them fast. “That was an underhanded trick, angel,” he growled.
“As well a demon should,” Aziraphale challenged.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Crowley growled.
Aziraphale huffed, “If you must know, I’ve asked Lord Beelzebub to make me a demon.”
“You what?” Crowley spat.
“I had a conversation with Nina and Maggie and they--”
“Nina and Maggie, the humans put you up to this?” Crowley asked, surprised; looking around, the water was still cascading all around them, though most of the club had evacuated now.
“Not intentionally,” Aziraphale explained. “She merely expressed the belief that if I fell you would catch me.”
“That’s a silly human expression that has absolutely nothing to do with the very real Fall that you would be facing angel,” Crowley spat.
“I’m perfectly aware of that.”
“Are you?”
Aziraphale couldn’t help but feel exasperated. “Crowley, did it ever occur to you why I might want to do such a thing?” Crowley eyed him but didn’t respond. “I’m doing it for us.”
“Us?” Crowley repeated in disbelief. “What has this got to do with Us?”
“You’ve always said that we were on our own side, but we’re not. We would always have Heaven hunting us, or Hell, I knew that Heaven would never take you back even if you wanted to go and I wouldn’t ask that of you. But when Nina proposed that you would be there to catch me when I fell I realized that I could make that choice. The choice that you never made knowingly. I could know the consequences and chose to walk into Hell anyway.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Crowley growled, tearing at his hair. “Angel. This is by far the stupidest idea you have ever had.”
“Is it?” Aziraphale asked, feeling somewhat hurt. He had known Crowley wouldn’t approve but this felt like a painful rejection. “I’ve never felt more clear about anything in all my life.”
“Really? And what do you think Hell is going to do with you as a newly minted demon? You think you get to just keep your old job and flit about with me like nothing changed? You think what, you’ll just maybe get some black wings and maybe funny eyes but mostly you’ll be the same as you always were. That the Fall won’t really have much effect on you? Have you even stopped to consider what would happen to you? What that actually feels like?”
Aziraphale paused. “Crowley—”
“I would never have chosen this if I had known. If I had known the consequences I would never have chosen this for myself. But I didn’t know. I didn’t know what would happen for asking questions I didn’t know what I was risking or what I would be giving up. But you know what you’re doing.”
“I do know what I’m doing,” Aziraphale said. “Crowley I’m not foolish enough to believe that being a demon would necessarily be better or worse than being an angel, but for Heaven’s sake, it’s the closest I would ever have to freedom. The closest we would have to freedom. If I win this, if I impress Beelzebub with my temptation ability, then I can convince them to let me keep my job on Earth, then we could be together properly, without having to fear retribution from Heaven or Hell because how could Hell ever not champion the demon who caused an angel to Fall?”
Crowley looked as though he had been stabbed at that. “You don’t honestly think—”
“Of course not,” Aziraphale corrected quickly. “But think for just a second here what it would mean for us to let Hell think that. To let them believe that you had spent the last six thousand years tempting me ever so slowly to this inevitable fate. Surely you could be a Duke of Hell, you could set the rules and keep me safe just as you always do.”
“Ngk,” Crowley said. “I don’t like this angel. What if Beelzebub doesn’t go for it?”
“I’m afraid we’re rather in too deep for that. Beelzebub wouldn’t tell me what happens if I lose but I rather think she might do something to you just to hurt me. And I haven’t come this far just to lose you now.”
Crowley groaned. “I really want no part of this.”
“I know,” Aziraphale said. “Frankly it strikes me as just a touch too ironic even for Hell that you should be the one. But of course, you’re the best tempter.”
“I never would have dared tempt you angel, please tell me you know that.”
Aziraphale smiled, he did know that of course, beyond a shadow of a doubt, he knew that. “What I know is—I’m going to win this game and when I do, you’re going to claim your rightful prize,” he said leering at Crowley with a naked hunger in his eyes.
Crowley grinned, “Oh I’ll claim my rightful prize alright angel, but if your temptation of humans includes taking them to bed, just know I’ll be very disssspleassssed.”
Aziraphale smiled, “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. And with that, he was off like a shot.
In the end, Crowley had made sure that his own work had been believable. He had not allowed Aziraphale to win by a wide enough margin that it would be suspicious to anyone in Hell, in fact, he had not allowed Aziraphale to win by any margin at all. The count had been 99-99 in quick order. The fact that Aziraphale had simply found the hundredth human to tempt before him was if not, luck of the devil, luck of the angel. Either way, Aziraphale had won the game, much to Beelzebub’s shock and amusement.
“Well well well, I can't say you’ve not surprised me,” Beelzebub said. “If your wish is to still become a demon then, I shall grant that for you. You’ve earned your spot well and truly and proven yourself the better tempter. I should punish your mentor here, but seeing as how he taught you everything you know and seems to have tempted you himself,” Beelzebub looked at Crowley then and he tried to look proud of himself. “I suppose I can overlook it. After all, tempting an angel to Fall is an impressive accomplishment, Crowley. Never been done before, and I do think deserves a considerable commendation. And for you to become a proper Duke of Hell.”
Crowley swallowed, and bowed, “Thank you, Lord Beelzebub.”
The Prince looked over at Aziraphale then, and held out their hand, Aziraphale took it. Whatever he had expected for his would-be Fall, what followed was not quite it. He had felt a coldness closing in on him, a darkness as if whatever rays of Her love had shone upon him once had been covered over, severing that tie between them. And then, a warmth followed, starting from the soles of his feet and enveloping him in the comforting embrace of Hellfire. To everyone’s surprise, including Aziraphale’s not much about his appearance had changed. His eyes were normal if a little more sapphire than their usual sky blue, and his wings had darkened of course, but little else had changed that would imply his demonic nature. He did not feel angrier, or really any different at all. When at last Beelzebub let him go, for a brief moment Aziraphale wondered if it hadn’t been a trick. Extending his wings however made it rather clear, he had fallen. He had expected pain or even sorrow, but the applause that had followed his transformation, and the look on Crowley’s face as he too joined in on the applause had made Aziraphale feel welcomed in a way he never had in Heaven.
“Duke Crowley,” Beelzebub said, calling over to the demon.
“Yo,” Crowley replied as he appeared.
“Take our newest recruit and ensure that he knows everything he needs to be a proper demon. You’ve trained him well these past six thousand years, I see no reason for you to stop his training now.”
“Thank you, Lord Beelzebub,” Crowley bowed low. He took Aziraphale by the shoulder and all but dragged him towards the elevator and out of Hell. Aziraphale felt the lightest he had felt in ages. Whatever he had been expecting, this was so much better. “For my money, that was still arguably the stupidest thing you’ve ever done,” Crowley hissed as he pulled him out of the elevator and back towards the bookshop.
“Maybe so, but we got what we wanted,” Aziraphale said with a smile. Crowley eyed him for a long moment as if checking him for any changes, when he was satisfied that the transformation had not changed the angel in any significant way, Crowley dragged him into the bookshop, shoved him up against the glass door, and snogged his brains out.
“That was quite the coup you pulled angel,” Crowley growled against his throat.
“Former angel,” Aziraphale corrected with a gasp.
“I’m gonna keep calling you my Angel if it’s all the same to you,” Crowley hissed. “Frankly you’re rather lucky. How did you know I wasn’t just in this for the thrill of the forbidden?”
Aziraphale sniffed, “Thrill of the forbidden, Crowley we haven’t done anything in six thousand years!”
“Sometimes it’s about the chase, the thrill of the hunt. Temptation isn’t just about looking like an absolute tart like you did. It’s about the chase. And what’s a greater chase than six thousand years of working up towards this?”
Aziraphale moaned, exposing his throat more letting the demon—other demon he supposed, mark him up. “You talk a big game, but you said it yourself, you never tempted me to this.”
“Didn’t I?” Crowley asked. “I’m a demon, I could be lying.”
Aziraphale snorted, “You forget, until recently sensing love was very much a thing I could do. It cascaded off of you in waves.”
“Why you cheeky minx,” Crowley purred, sucking several love bites all across Aziraphale’s throat. Aziraphale whined, arching into Crowley then. “You’ve no idea what you did to me. Watching you flirt with those humans. Tempting them into lust, I could smell it on them. Dripping off of them, I wanted to rip their throats out for even daring to look at you that way.”
Aziraphale whimpered at that. “Oh Crowley,” he purred.
“You’re mine,” he said with a growl. “You belong to me and only to me.”
Aziraphale nodded, and moaned, “Please, Crowley.”
“Say it,” Crowley growled against his skin.
“Oh, God.”
“Ah ah, no calling out Her name now. You don’t belong to Her any more.”
“Yes,” Aziraphale cried. “Yes, yes, Crowley, I’m yours. Oh, please, only yours.”
“Damn right,” Crowley replied, leaving a necklace of love bites all across Aziraphale’s flesh. Aziraphale whimpered and whined, arching into him more, desperate for more of the demon, for anything and everything he might be willing to give. Crowley moved him bodily about the bookshop, shoving him hard against a bookcase and resuming their snogging, before dragging him away and towards the stairs. At some point, Aziraphale had jumped into Crowley’s arms, wrapping his legs around the demon’s waist. Crowley’s hands had found their way to his soft, round bottom and squeezed, kneading his arse through his trousers, as he walked them up the stairs. When at last, Aziraphale’s back hit the bed, he had kept his legs firmly around Crowley’s waist so that the demon landed on top of him, their clothes had vanished though neither one knew who had been the cause of it and their kisses remained.
“Angel, angel, angel,” Crowley whispered against his lips. “Fuck. I’ve thought about this for so long.”
“So have I,” Aziraphale said.
“What did you imagine?” Crowley asked, nipping at his shoulder.
“Well-- a few things. You bending me over my desk downstairs, or shoving me onto the bed and ravishing me, or if we were feeling particularly frisky, me riding your cock like a proper harlot.” At this Crowley had chuckled into his throat.
“Fuck, that’s hot.”
“What did you imagine my dear?”
“Much the same,” Crowley confessed. “Though I did imagine taking a proper amount of time to worship your perfect thighs. Could spend an eternity just between your legs angel. Nipping at your thighs, teasing you with my tongue on your cock, tasting that perfect arse of yours while you ride my face.”
Aziraphale shivered. “Ooh Crowley, that sounds… divine. No, what’s the opposite of divine? Infernal?”
Crowley smirked, “Delightful works just as well.”
Aziraphale sighed happily, “It’s hard to think with this deep seeded need to be filled,” he admitted. “It’s been rather a long time after all.”
“My poor little angel,” Crowley purred. “Shall I take care of you then?”
Aziraphale nodded, “You always do.”
Crowley smiled, there would be time enough to explore every other facet of their lovemaking. Time enough to explore marking up the angel’s thighs, and making him come just with the exploration of his demonic tongue. But they were both rather needy and Crowley had decided he could no longer wait, so with a miracle, he prepared Aziraphale for him, causing the angel to moan, and then, Crowley slid into him with a groan, burying his face for a moment in Aziraphale’s shoulder. The feeling was exquisite. Aziraphale was tight and warm and everything Crowley had always hoped, more importantly, he was so full of love, and it warmed him from the inside out. He chased that feeling, fucking into Aziraphale with all of his love and all of his passion, six thousand years worth of it. All of the things he had never been able to say, all of the things that now was safe to say, I love you. I want you. I chose you. Crowley poured that into their lovemaking. He watched Aziraphale’s face as he arched his back, his eyes staring at Crowley’s as he clawed at the demon’s back. Crowley moaned loud, fucking into him impossibly harder. It was everything, the most exquisite thing he had ever experienced, and before he knew it his orgasm had crested, washing over to him and he was spilling into the angel whispering how much he adored him, how he loved him, how good he felt. Aziraphale followed not far behind him, screaming Crowley’s name. The two curled up together then, lost in one another’s embrace. It was exquisite. It was everything, and Crowley was certain he needed to send Nina and Maggie a muffin basket for putting the idea, if unintentionally in the angel’s head.