- Sweet Dreams -
by Key
A Crowley/Aziraphale slash


Disclaimer: The characters Aziraphale and Crowley sadly do not belong to me. They belong to Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. I probably didn't do them justice, either.

((Authors Note: This is not only my first Good Omens fan fiction, but my first fan fiction, period. There's quite a few C/A fictions now, but in most of them it's Crowley who makes the first move. I tried it the other way around. Please let me know what you think! ^_^ ))



Aziraphale had been standing in front of Crowley's door for what he calculated to be a sufficiently awkward amount of time. Finally he gathered the courage to knock and almost immediately the pale face of Crowley appeared, grinning.

"Aziraphale, hey," he said, then noticed the bottle of champange the angel held, "Ah..." he hissed, snatching the bottle and inspecting the label.

"Um..." Aziraphale nervously held out the other item.

"Chocolates?" Crowley frowned in confusion at his companion. Perhaps, Aziraphale reflected, the chocolates had been a bit much. "I don't recall you ever bringing chocolates."

It was taking all the control the angel had just to stand there. Why, and for how long, had he felt this way? Since forever, it felt. But why, then, was Aziraphale left for the first time speechless in Crowley's company?

Crowley shrugged as they both moved into the apartment and playfully bit into a chocolate. Aziraphale suddenly felt like laughing, crying and throwing up all at once. He fell faintly to the floor, resting against the leather sofa for support. Crowley emerged from the kitchen with two glasses and the now opened bottle.

"Want a drink?"

"Yes," Aziraphale answered much too quickly. He downed the offered glass and felt a little better. Crowley sat down beside the angel and refilled his glass courteously.

There was more wine to come, and the two slowly descended into a comfortable, drunken state. Crowley babbled all the while, leaving Aziraphale plenty of time to think. What was he doing here? He found himself avoiding looking the demon in the eyes. He had, he reasoned, nothing to lose. Ever since the "incident" with the near-Armageddon Heaven had chosen to completely ignore his existence, which left him free to... what? The angel caught himself before he came to a conclusion.

Crowley waved a hand vaguely in the air, "What w... what we.. we... what we ne... n... nee.."

"Need?" Aziraphale offered

"Is another bottle," Crowley finished gratefully.

Aziraphale looked doubtfully at the numerous other bottles surrounding them, but did not protest.

Crowley tried to stand up, faltered, then fell to the floor again, collapsing on the angel's shoulder. Aziraphale felt himself blush and Crowley must have too, for raised his head and stared into his companion's eyes, "Have you always been such a brilliant shad of red?" the demon smirked.

Here goes, Aziraphale leant over and let his mouth meet Crowley's soft, demon lips.

Crowley pulled back, shocked and confused, "Aziraphale... no."

The angel could not meet his gaze, only stared morosely at the ground as tears began to form in his eyes. The demon smiled sadly, reached out and brushed a strand of Aziraphale's golden hair from his face.

The angel raised his head and Crowley leant over and softly kissed him on the lips, then snuggled up to Aziraphale, resting his head sleepily on the angel's chest. Aziraphale placed an arm around Crowley and found himself too beginning to fall asleep.

((Sweet Dreams! Remember to tell me what you think. Also, do you think I should try any more fan fiction, or should I leave the vicinity without further notice? ^_^;;; ))