Kisses
Crowley and Aziraphale were on their way home from a dinner that was, unequivocally not a date, when suddenly, Crowley grabbed a hold of Aziraphale's shoulders.
"Just tell me when to stop," he murmured going for the kiss. Aziraphale made no move to stop him, even leaning into it.
As soon as Crowley's lips met Aziraphale's, he felt a rush run through his veins. First euphoria and then unimaginable terror. What was he thinking? This was a terrible idea! He was going to lose his best friend all for a ridiculous, schoolboy crush.
He pulled away. "I'm so sorry," he stammered. "I can't believe I did that. That was a terrible idea and you probably hate me now and I should just leave and –"
Oh Satan, he was spiralling now. He felt as though he could evaporate and float away at any moment. Aziraphale's hand on his shoulder was the only thing that brought him back down to earth. He was startled when Aziraphale grabbed a hold of the collar of his shirt and pulled Crowley down to his level.
"Never apologise," breathed Aziraphale, as he kissed Crowley again and placed a hand on the back of Crowley's neck. Crowley practically melted at the angels' touch. Aziraphale pulled back after what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes.
"How long have you liked me?" he asked suddenly.
Crowley thought for a moment. "I was interested in you since the beginning, at Eden, but I really fell for you in Ancient Rome. So about two thousand years ago now."
"Well, we have a lot of time to make up for, don't we?" smirked Aziraphale. Crowley had never seen Aziraphale so confident and quite frankly it was making Crowley a little hot and bothered.
"I think we do…"