It was a perfectly normal Sunday. At least, Crowley thought it was. He was sitting in the back room of Aziraphale's bookshop sipping tea and waiting for the angel to get back from saving some church from corruption. Perfectly normal.
"Crowley, I'm feeling rebellious," said a cheerful voice from the door, and Crowley choked.
"You're what?" he gasped as Aziraphale strode into the room and sprawled very un-angelic-like onto the couch across from Crowley.
"Feeling rebellious," he repeated. "I've been finding all the loopholes and such."
"L-loopholes?" said Crowley.
"Oh, yes. For example: I can have sex without it being a Sin as long as I very much care about my partner and want to make them feel good and know that they want to feel good that way with me. See?"
"S-sex?" said Crowley.
"Yes, Crowley, sex. You know, it would work with you."
"M-me?" said Crowley.
"Yes, you. I could have sex with you without getting in trouble at all." Crowley, with shaking hands, set down his tea.
"Are you going to?" he asked quietly. Aziraphale tilted his head as if to think about it.
"I haven't decided yet," he answered. Something snapped inside Crowley and he leapt from his seat and flattened the angel into the cushions of his couch.
"You haven't decided yet?" he all but shrieked. "It's been six thousand years and you haven't decided?" And the angel smirked.
"Of course I've decided, Crowley my dear, I just wanted you to get on top of me."
