Chapter 6: Love Given or Taken Away

Summary:

The plot thickens, Love grows, Will Anathema survive?

Notes:

We've added a few tags, just to be safe.

I hope you're enjoying the story, so far!

Feel free to comment and come visit me on Twitter!Chapter Text

playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi7labNGqFUvVWvH7K4YClDG

Crowley watched Aziraphale sit at the table looking towards the stage, and he sighed, he didn't like seeing his angel like this. They had a perfectly beautiful night, a wonderful day until Gabriel came into the picture. Shaking his head, it dawned on him; he might be what Aziraphale needed right now, maybe alone wasn't what the angel needed. Tentatively walking over to Aziraphale, Crowley gently placed his hand on his shoulder; without warning blue eyes looked up at him, Aziraphale had turned in the chair his arms wrapping around Crowley, burying his face against him. Crowley felt him sigh and relax against him; he was right, no one had ever just needed him to be there, and it was enough, he was enough. It was nice.

Gently he placed his fingers under Aziraphale's chin and lifted his face to look up at him, Crowley slid his glasses off, sliding them onto the table as he bent to kiss his angel. Aziraphale sighed into the kiss as he relaxed, Crowley's arms wrapping around his angel. Aziraphale felt protected, safe and cherished, the feeling that Gabriel left in his wake being erased out of existence by a man he never thought he would ever have, or be loved by? Aziraphale wasn't sure what all these feelings were; he only knew they were there, and he loved them all.

Anathema had come out of the kitchen, seeing the two she smiled to herself, her best friend was finally happy. She could tell by the way he had his arms around Aziraphale, he was protecting him and possessively at that, she cleared her throat, bringing the moment to an end. "I am sorry to have to break up this little moment? However, don't look at me like that Crowley; do you want me to lock up, call it a day or..what?" Crowley had inhaled profoundly and exhaled rather irritatedly at the interruption. "Yeah, go home, go see Newt, go see your mother, go to the moon, just lock the door on your way out." Anathema stuck her tongue out at him.

Aziraphale couldn't help but chuckle at the exchange between the two friends, he not only had the man of his dreams but a new friend as well. There wasn't much more he could be happy about, so screw Gabriel, he wasn't going to let him take any more of him than he already had. Anathema finished up and watched Crowley escort Aziraphale up to the flat above the bistro, she smirked, walking out of the door she noticed two men ducking behind the corner. Locking the doors, she double-checked it, making sure it closed; taking out her phone, she sent a text to Crowley, letting him know about the men. Anathema felt very uneasy; she quickly called Newt to meet her on her way home and to hurry.

Tracey had to work that Saturday, Bee L.Z. Bub had appointments for the coming week with new clients. At her desk, she was typing out dictations that were left for her. Now and then stopping to check to see if anything else was needed. Tracey was there when Gabriel came storming in, Hastur and Ligur quietly following him. Gabriel never even stopped to entertain the fact that Tracey was there. Little did she know it was for the best that he hadn't, both Hastur and Ligur regarded her and then dismissed the fact she existed. Good less for her to have to deal with. Tracey flipped a switch on her phone, the sounds in her ears changed, though she continued to type.

Gabriel came across loud and clear in her headset, her phone was an intercom into Bees office, and Bee, who didn't bother to learn, never knew it was always on. Tracey couldn't shut it off, so might as well use it, right? As their voices became more evident, Tracey had to focus on not running to Aziraphale and Crowley, but she had to listen.

"You promised me, Bee, you said if I did what you wanted, I could have him." Bee looked at him, shaking their head. "Is it my fault that he met someone who saw what he is? It's my fault you wanted to demean him into thinking that you were all he could get, and you would swoop in to save him?" Gabriel growled out, "You told me to do that, you said he needed to be controlled, you said it was the only way." Bee smirked at Gabriel, "You listened so well too, what makes you think that I wanted to let you go and not keep you for my own?" Gabriel's voice lowered even more to a threatening degree, "I don't care, you promised me, and I earned it, fix this." Bee chuckled slightly, "Fine, Gabriel, I will fix it; how would you suggest?"

Hastur and Ligur both showed up in front of Tracey's desk looking down at her, ever the brilliant actress, she held up one finger as she finished typing, reaching over she flipped a switch killing the intercom, immediately putting the recording back on. Tracey looked up with eyes filled with disgust, "What do you want? I have to finish this them so I can go enjoy what's left of my weekend." Tracey's voice was dripping with a complete and utter distaste for them. "Let me see the headphones." Tracey held them back from them, "You put them in your ears, you owe me new ones, or I will let Bee know to get me new ones." With a dismissive wave, Hastur sticks them in his ears only to hear Bee's voice on the other end barking out orders. Hastur tried to hand them back, Tracey withdrew her hand again. "I told you no, you could go let Bee know why I can't finish this." With that, Tracey stood up and pushed past the two them, making it a point to push them.

Tracey went out the front of the building, looking behind her she ran into Anathema, both women shrieked slightly. Tracey noticed two figures following Anathema, looping her arm with Anathemas Tracey turned to keep walking away from the bistro. Newt saw the woman and pulled up to them, both quickly getting into the car, the figures turning back around heading back towards the bistro. Anathema immediately sending a text to Crowley, ~Anthony, eyes open, was followed by two, on their way back your way. Ana~, Newt placed his hand on Anathemas thigh, he could feel her shivering. "What's going on? Hey Tracey." Anathema went into everything that had happened and invited Tracey to stay with them since she lived alone. Tracey agreed and then went into everything she heard; she was scared for herself and her best friend, and the three talked back at their apartment. Gabriel was insane that much they had to the conclusion of, and Aziraphale was in danger.

Aziraphale heard the piano being played in the other room; he washed up in the bathroom, washing his face from the tears that had fallen earlier; the song he heard was familiar. He couldn't help himself; it started as a hum, then he remembered the words, later it became something he needed to sing. He followed the sounds into what he would call a music room, two guitars stood in the corner, on the wall were saxophones, a trumpet, then he saw his Crowley on the piano, his fingers tickling the ivories of a baby grand. Coming into the song entirely, he surprised Crowley; his head turned to see his angel, he kept playing enjoying the sounds of Aziraphale's voice, his soul desperately loved his voice, needed his voice. Aziraphale came to the front of the ebony baby grand; it was shiny, sleek, beautiful. Gold lettering labeled the baby grand as a Young Chang, its tone perfect, every bit Crowley.

Any thought of Gabriel had vacated the premises as soon as Crowley had started to play. Aziraphale only saw Crowley, his music, the way his fingers moved on the keys, the way he watched him. Nothing else mattered, only him, it was new but seemed so much more than that, he knew he would never be apart from Crowley, Aziraphale had fallen, and he knew it as he sang while his love played.

Crowley played, not hearing his angel come into the room, but his voice beckoning him to look and listen. The song, seductive, slow, he never had anyone sing this song as he played by himself before, he couldn't help but love this. Crowley played so that he could hear Aziraphale actually scale his voice, from lower to higher and every note in between. Aziraphale undoubtedly followed along with how Crowley played; as far as Crowley was concerned, no being should have a voice like that, he could listen to Aziraphale for hours. Breathy, raspy, clear, it carried the promise of more, the promise of what could be, his voice begged, it pleaded for the listener to do whatever he asked, whatever he sang for. It called and pulled at Crowley's entire being, his will to wait, for any more time dissipating, quickly.

Aziraphale carried the melody as Crowley ran his fingers up and down the piano, filling in what Aziraphale needed to make the song their own. Every here and there, Aziraphale would let his voice slide into a moaning note, catching Crowley with it every time, a smirk letting him know it was intentional. Crowley stopped playing entirely for a moment, making Aziraphale's voice ring through the room on its own. His voice running down Crowley's spine, through his soul, he started playing again, slowly bringing the song to a close. At the end of which Aziraphale chuckled watching Crowley's face, slowly Crowley stood up and pinned Aziraphale against the piano, looking down at him, blue stardust eyes staring back into his own.

Aziraphale brought his hand to the side of Crowley's face, touching, sliding it slowly down his cheek, following the line of his jaw, memorizing him, Crowley's eyes closed. Aziraphale followed his fingers with his eyes as he followed the line of Crowley's neck to his collarbone, he looked back up into molten gold. Aziraphale melted under his gaze, and he shivered, Crowley's arm slid around his waist, pulling them closer together, Aziraphale tipped his head back slightly as Crowley lowered his head into a kiss. He could feel his knees start to give out from under him, Aziraphale couldn't help it, melting under Crowley just happened and this kiss was different. Somehow it just wasn't exciting; it wasn't just a kiss, it was far more, Aziraphale needed it, it fed him, he wanted to give back every feeling he was being given, it was love, all-encompassing.

Crowley slowly ran his tongue against Aziraphale's lower lip, nipping it gently, feeling Aziraphale part his lips against his own, he deepened their kiss. Crowley placed his free hand on the piano to hold them where they were, Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley's neck, gently entwining his fingers in his hair, pulling them fully together in a kiss that seemed to speak more than either dared. It couldn't end, not now, not like this, Aziraphale gave back as much as Crowley was giving, neither making any attempt to slow down or stop. Crowley pushed off the piano, pulling Aziraphale with him, for as plush as Aziraphale claimed to be Crowley easily picked him up, turning with him, as he hitched his legs over his hips. A smirk curled into their kiss as Crowley walked them into his bedroom.

Aziraphale was what Crowley needed, everything he had ever thought disappeared from his mind; he would be alone forever, disappeared. There was only the angel in his arms, his kiss against his lips; he would never let his angel go, he breathed in Aziraphale, a sigh leaving him. Gently Crowley laid them down on his bed, neither wanting to leave the kiss, being forced to, they crawled up further onto the bed. Aziraphale reached up for him, pulling him back into the embrace he so desperately needed, he wanted to be lost in. Crowley would give him whatever he needed, anything he wanted would be his, he slid his leg slowly in between Aziraphale's. Crowley felt his fingers tighten in his hair, hearing a breathy gasp as Aziraphale's body rolled against his. He was intoxicated by his angel, his sounds, the way his body started to move against his, he wanted more. Crowley needed more.

Aziraphale slid his hands down Crowleys back, following his spine, rolling his hips against his knee, he couldn't help the gasps that left him, and he didn't want too. He gripped onto one of Crowley's hips pulling his against him, he wanted to feel him, Aziraphale needed Crowley to touch him, he couldn't get close enough to his love. Another slide and they both ground against each other, Crowley shivered in Aziraphale's arms, as he heard his name breathed into a moan, as he kissed him. The kiss deepened, Crowley slid an arm under Aziraphale leaning on it holding them there, Aziraphale lifted his leg over Crowley's hip, he rolled his hips into Crowley as he pushed down against him. His angel felt so good against him; he needed to touch him, his skin on him, his free hand trying to undo buttons, his angel had too many buttons.

Aziraphale helped him with the buttons needing the same thing Crowley needed, wanted the same something. Finally getting the shirt unbuttoned, Crowley growled, there was another layer, "Jesus angel." Aziraphale chuckled slightly, putting his hands over his head, Crowley leaned back unceremoniously, removing the offending clothing. Aziraphale's hands came quickly back down, pulling at Crowley's top, "Please." Crowley's heart thumped, his body reacted to his one single word, he quickly pulled his shirt up and over his head, tossing it wherever it may land. Aziraphale ran his fingers down Crowley's throat to his chest, back up, pulling him down against him. He was so warm against Aziraphale, feeling his hands running up and down his bare back, he moved with more need. Aziraphale moaned his name, clearly his name, his eyes had closed, then as if God decided to be cruel, the phone started going off.

They ignored it until they couldn't. Well, until Crowley couldn't, Aziraphale was lost in Crowley, Crowley could not only hear the phone, but it was vibrating off the table next to them. It went off again, this time, though, he listened to the audible growl from the angel under him, "Oh pleassssse, no. Please." Crowley felt his angel, his love pulling him back down, and he freely went, fuck the phone right, Crowley's mouth wandered down his angel's neck, gently biting, finding a spot on Aziraphale that dragged in a sudden gasp his body pressing up into Crowley. Letting his tongue drag and tease over that area on Aziraphale's collarbone, Crowley bit down harder, and his name was panted out, fingers dragged down his back. Aziraphale could feel his lips curl into a smile. Crowley teased over the bite, and then without warning, he dextrously rolled his hips against Aziraphale as his teeth bit into him.

Aziraphale arched into the bite, and he could feel Crowley hard against him, he felt them grind against each other, his hands scrambled down his back, pulling at his pants, "Please, god, please..." Crowley slid his hand between them just as his fingers found Aziraphale's buttons, again, with the buttons, the phone went off again, and it kept going off. "Angel, I have to get that, I will kill whoever it is, but I have to answer it." Crowley could swear he heard his angel sob slightly as he stopped and reached for the god damned phone. It was Anathema; he was going to actually kill the witch. Burn her at the stake, drown her, and burn her again. Before Crowley was able to answer the phone, Aziraphale turned his face to him, kissing him as desperately as he felt, leaving Crowley breathless. "What the fuck do you need witch."

Anathema heard the tone, heard the words and it all registered, oh shit, she called at a horrible time. She felt awful; she knew her best friend hadn't been with anyone in years, and all but gave up until Aziraphale. Anathema also knew that Crowley wasn't going to rush anything unless it happened on its own, and she just interrupted it, for the second time that day. She was dead; she could feel it. So instead of easing into a conversation, she blurted it out.

"Anthony we were followed, they were on their way back to you, we have Tracey with us, and, well I don't know how to put this." Crowley sat up, Aziraphale sliding up against his side, one leg behind Crowley the other over his lap, tracing patterns up and down his bared back. "Witch it better be more than that, wait, followed?" Aziraphale heard followed and waited, resting his head on Crowley's shoulder. "What else." Crowley looked down at Aziraphale's leg over his lap, decidedly running his free hand up to his inner thigh. Eliciting a silent gasp, only Crowley could hear the intake of air, Aziraphale fell back against the bed, Crowley slowly sliding his hand further up.

"Aziraphale was a gift, a promise to Gabriel." Everything in Crowley's world stopped in that one moment; he grabbed Aziraphale's hand, pulling him up against him. Possessively his arm wrapped around his angel as though if he let go, he would disappear. "Say that again, Anathema, how do you mean, and who said that?" Anathema explained everything that Tracey had heard between Gabriel and Bee, the promise, the tactics, all of it. Crowley held onto Aziraphale that much tighter, not sure on how to tell an angel he was supposed to be a present, a gift, an object to Gabriel. Crowley's blood flowed with hellfire, as everything sunk into his being, his thoughts. He looked into those blue eyes, that fluff of disheveled white curls, perfect lips, and the love that so quickly was given to him. Crowley would never let them near him again, he would take care of him as long as he needed, but they were not going to get to him.

Outside the bistro under cover of night and away from the lights, Gabriel stood there. Anger flowing through him as he watched. First, Gabriel heard the piano, and the window had been open, then Aziraphale singing, how dare Aziraphale sing he didn't have permission to sing, let alone be where he was... Looking up, he caught the sight of Aziraphale standing there as he sang, then as it quieted, he saw Crowley stand, pulling them together. Then the kiss, the way Aziraphale had not moved, had welcomed it. Gabriel fumed, he would end this, one way or another, Aziraphale belonged to him, and this was going to end.