Warning: Contains slash, or at least slash-if-you-squint
Pairing: Crowley/Aziraphale
Words: 285
Disclaimer: Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman are far more awesome than I.

Thank you, FoxxFire5, for reading this over for me. :)


Even If


"I'm sorry," Aziraphale breathed against Crowley's skin, afterward.

The demon opened one sated, yellow-slitted eye. Then the other, to take in the damp, sprawled out scene again, greedily, one hand skimming up and down the angel's side appreciatively, up and down, coming to rest on his hip.

After a moment, he remembered to ask – "What?"

"Because I don't…" Aziraphale shivered and pressed into his touch. "I can love you more than life itself," he murmured, "and I do… but I can't love you more than God."

Crowley groaned, almost as if in pain. Not the pricky-sweet kind of pain of Aziraphale nipping hard, but somehow reverently at his neck – deep, gut-wrenching jealousy that went so far beyond the call of the simple lust he'd been indulging in when the Arrangement had been modified to include this. Aziraphale always had been a sucker for preventing the debauchment of innocent mortal souls, only, shit, how did it get this far?

"Damn it, angel," Crowley whispered, "why doessss He have to get involved?" He felt Aziraphale shift uncomfortably and brushed a hand along his bare side again, caught between hurt irritation and the unfamiliar sensation of wanting to soothe. "Shh, never mind. I'll take it." Crowley lifted his head and tried to look him in the eyes, but they were too apologetic so instead he stared at the angel's bruised lips, almost a contradiction in terms, a testament to the bad (or good, depending on what angle you looked at it from) influence they had been on each other. "I'll take you—" kissed him briefly "—again and again."

It was a promise. It was the closest he could come to admitting, I love you too, but.