Kisses
"Well?"
"Dear boy-"
"You promised. It wouldn't be very angelic for you to break your promise."
"Yes, but - you could release me from it."
Crowley paused, and looked at his angel. "You want me to?"
"Why of course!"
"You _sure?_"
Aziraphale looked up at him, looking as though he was actually thinking about it for the first time. He frowned, and then looked up, confused. "I... I'm not sure."
Crowley smiled like a snake.
"That's not to say - um. I'm just not sure." He sounded even less sure, this time and more open to persuasion. Well, Crowley was very good at that. And he knew what sort of persuasion would work best in this case. Leaning forward, he kissed the angel square on the lips, nothing fancy, just the touch of lips on lips, lingering for a second before he sat back. He watched with delight as a look of wonderment passed over Aziraphale's face. "Well, I never."
Crowley sniggered. "Nobody says that, angel."
"Nobody's been kissed by you before, then."
"You like?"
"Oh, yes." Aziraphale smiled. "I never realised it could just be like that, you know. I always thought there'd be, mmm, all sorts of messy strings attached." He must have caught Crowley's raised eyebrow. "Not literally, Crowley. I may be a little naive, but I'm not stupid. I meant relationship strings. Sexual strings."
Aziraphale saying 'sexual' sent a strange shiver down Crowley's spine. "Not if you don't want there to be." Aziraphale astounded him by not refuting that immediately. Instead he looked shyly at the demon and leaned forward, golden curls touching night-black bangs. Yellow eyes, free of their usual wraparound shades looked, startled, into ethereally blue ones. Those eyes the colour of dawn sky closed, and long dark blond lashes caught with Crowley's eternally dark ones as he leaned forward, too-soft heavenly lips touching his own. The kiss was tentative at first, soft, explorative, and then as the angel got more confident, and the demon's shock wore off, it evolved into something more, something the two of them had been wanting for years, if only they had let themselves admit it. Soft angel tongue met not-quite-human demon tongue and danced briefly, heads moved position, and the dancers returned, tangling, and both beings were glad they didn't need to breathe. But it seemed Aziraphale wanted to say something. Crowley watched as Aziraphale looked at him, the light of revelation in his eyes.
"You taste like heaven feels."
The demon blinked at him, then sniggered. "Yeah, right." Aziraphale didn't laugh, just stroked a finger down the side of Crowley's face. The amusement drained out of Crowley's face. "Angel, I'm a demon. How can I "taste like Heaven feels"? You're just getting homesick or something."
"I mean it, Crowley. You... taste wonderful."
"Well, yeah," he preened. "But not heavenly."
Aziraphale shrugged, and pulled him close again. "Let me taste again."
"You don't need to give me compliments to get me to kiss you, y' know."
"I know," Aziraphale smiled. "And it was a statement, not a compliment."
"You must be homesick. Go on a weekend break to the Silver City or something if it's that bad."
"I'd rather kiss you." They both paused with the knowledge that that statement meant something very, very important. Perhaps it shouldn't've been said. But it had been, and they both knew it was the truth. Neither of them knew what to say, so they didn't. They moved in unison to meet the others lips, and both tasted Heaven there in one another's arms.