A/n: smut ahead...
Aziraphale's hand was the first to explore more sensitive areas. Crowley's breath caught as the angel's hand gently stroked him through his trousers, lightly teasing. "Alright?" the angel asked.
The redhead's hand sat on the angel's thigh and squeezed in encouragement as he nodded. "Yeah," he gulped.
Feeling bolder, Aziraphale's touch became more firm, his fingers running along the zip of his jeans which caused Crowley to whine and run his hand higher, finding Aziraphale similarly excited.
"Angel," he breathed, unsure of what else to say. He couldn't form a coherent thought as he felt his belt go slack and heard his zipper in the silence of the room. Aziraphale's warm, soft hand slipped inside and surrounded him. "Ngk."
The angel chuckled slightly, he enjoyed that sound, it was the sound of a speechless demon. He began to move his hand up and down, feeling the tension build through Crowley's body.
The redhead tried to keep his hips under control, as his own hand fumbled with Aziraphale's trousers. Mercifully the angel took pity on him and performed a small miracle to ease Crowley's way.
It was the blonde's turn to lose his breath as Crowley's hand wrapped around him, giving a small squeeze that caused him to whimper.
"Crowley," he sighed into his mouth.
Squeezing and stroking, they both increased their pace, matching each other. Their whimpers and moans filled the room as decades and many millennia of want was beginning to be fulfilled.
Crowley felt like he was going to explode, so much emotion snaked its way around his heart and soul, it was almost overwhelming.
A knot tightened in his stomach, his hips began to buck against Aziraphale's fist and a strangled cry escaped him as his head fell back. His strokes became a little uncoordinated, sloppy even, but Aziraphale seemed to manage, his own hips bucking into the demon's fist, his face buried in his shoulder muffling the groan that followed moments later.
Neither said anything as they collected themselves, Aziraphale miracling them both clean. He looked up finally at Crowley and noticed moisture trailing from the corner of his eye.
"Crowley?"
The worry in the angel's voice snapped him back to himself and he looked at him. There was a hint of panic on his face and Crowley understood. "It's alright angel," he assured him, pressing a kiss to his lips. "I'm ok. It's just a bit much. I'm not used to…. feelings let alone on this scale."
"I thought you were regretting it." Aziraphale bit his lip.
"Never," he replied with a small smile. "Thing is, this is all very new and I'm a bit….lost. I've never done anything like that before with anyone."
The angel's eyes widened at the confession. "Never? How is that possible? I mean temptation was your field of expertise."
"Well," he winced and scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, temptation sure but I never tempted them with me, it was always showing them something else instead. Like orgies. I'd tempt them to orgies but I'd never take part."
"Why on Earth not?" Aziraphale was incredulous.
Crowley shrugged. "Never really appealed. I was a mischief maker. I mean there were...moments when I was tempted but there was always this voice in my head pulling me away."
"Saying what?" Aziraphale smiled. "I can't imagine any voice stopping you from doing something you wanted to do."
The demon swallowed. "It'd sssay… uh well." He cleared his throat. "Ngk…. it'd sssay 'but it'ssss not the angel'."
Said angel's face lit up with absolute delight.
"'S always been you." He took a deep breath and shook his head a little to clear it. "But I am going to regret being on this sofa so long." Wincing as he moved. "I think we burnt off the alcohol."
Aziraphale schooled his features to simple happiness, quashing down the urge to gather the demon into his arms and never let go. It wasn't like him to be this unguarded and he wasn't sure when it would happen again but he didn't want to embarrass him any further so simply followed Crowley's lead. "How about some cocoa and a bed?"
"Bed sounds good. I think I can manage that one." Gripping the cane in one hand and holding on to Aziraphale with the other, he unfolded himself from his seat and slowly made his way to the small bedroom.
Aziraphale helped him out of his tight jeans and under the duvet before trotting off to make cocoa.
When he returned Crowley had made himself comfortable and his eyes were shining, almost vulnerable. "I know you don't do the sleeping thing but stay? Just for a while?"
"Of course my dear."
"Maybe you could read, out loud, if you like," he stumbled. "I just… I feel like if I fall asleep you're not going to be here when I wake up."
"That's awfully sentimental of you."
"Shut up."
"Ah. Now that sounds like my Crowley," he grinned. "Would you like me to read anything in particular?"
The demon yawned and shook his head, his eyes drifting shut.
Aziraphale watched him for a while, wondering at the expressions that flitted across his face as he slept. He hoped this was finally a turning point and that Crowley had stopped running from him.
XxXxX
He must've dropped off at some point as a scream jerked him awake.
"Aziraphale! Aziraphale! For someone's sake! Answer me!"
"Crowley! Crowley! Wake up!" Aziraphale shook the sleeping demon.
Crowley jolted upright with a cry of pain.
"I'm here dear boy. I'm here," the angel soothed, lightly resting a hand in his shoulder.
Gasping for breath the demon looked round at him in disbelief. "You're here."
"Of course, where else would I be?"
Crowley shook his head and clung to him like a lifeline, desperately trying not to cry.
Aziraphale could feel his heart racing so he just held him, waiting for him to calm.
"Sorry," the demon whispered eventually. "Bad dream. I'm alright now." But he didn't let go.
"What happened?"
"You were gone. It was like when the shop burned only this time we were in Hell. You'd Fallen and I was trying to find you in the sulphur but I couldn't." Crowley held him tighter.
"Rest assured I haven't Fallen my dear." He ran his fingers through flame red hair before lifting Crowley's face to look at him. "And I'm not going anywhere."
The demon swallowed and nodded, searching the angel's face.
"What is it?" Aziraphale asked, flushing under such scrutiny.
"I… want to kiss you again."
"Oh! Well… that's allowed. In fact I think it would be rather lovely." He smiled.
Crowley breathed a sigh of relief and smiled back before claiming the angel's lips.
XxXxX
As the sun rose Aziraphale looked over at Crowley who had been sleeping peacefully for a couple of days now. After his initial nightmare there had been a few rocky moments but he seemed to calm when he found Aziraphale was there each time he woke.
The angel had managed to clean his wounds a few more times even whilst the patient slept but he wondered how much longer the demon would remain in bed.
Getting up, he went to make tea the human way, needing something to do. Leaning against the window frame, he sipped his drink, watching the quiet street. Couples walking home from a night out in SoHo, delivery drivers making drops at the local cafes and restaurants, ready for the breakfast rush of commuters and local workers. He smiled to himself contentedly but gave a start as two arms wrapped round him from behind and a body pressed against his back, looking out the window over his shoulder.
"Angel," came a sleep roughened greeting.
"Good morning my dear. How are you feeling?"
"Much better. I woke up and you weren't there."
"I know, I'm sorry. I got restless so I had to move around." He leaned his head back against Crowley's shoulder, enjoying his closeness.
"I guess you have questions still," the demon stated.
"Maybe a few, nothing pressing though."
"How long was I out this time?"
"A couple of days."
"Sorry."
Setting his cup on the window ledge, he took one of Crowley's hands in his own and turned to face him. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You need to heal and if sleep is how that happens then that's what you need to do. Honest truth, how are you really feeling?"
"Less like roadkill. There's still some pain but I can't tell if it's the same pain that's always been there or not anymore. Where the sword hit is the worst one."
Aziraphale gulped. "If you'd been any other demon that one would have killed you," he pointed out, his voice shaking.
Crowley cupped the side of his face, "but I'm me, and it didn't."
The angel nuzzled his hand and was surprised to find it a little rough. Crowley wasn't really one to work with his hands so the texture was strange.
Noticing the angel's reaction, Crowley snatched his hand back, offering a small smile. "Got any coffee?" he asked, sauntering over to the kitchen. His gait was still pained and slower than normal but he was moving under his own steam.
"Crowley? What's wrong with your hand?"
"'S'nothing Angel."
Aziraphale huffed and stalked after him, grabbing his hand and turning it palm up. It was lined with jagged yellow marks that sparkled, just like his feet. He looked up at Crowley with a question in his eyes.
"Michael had a spear, lance, thing. I snatched it from him."
The angel was shocked he would do something so reckless. "That should have killed you just like the sword."
"Yeah, I'm starting to realise that," Crowley frowned, staring at his hand.
"What did you do with it?"
"The lance? I uh, sort of burnt it to ash… in my hand."
Aziraphale was now in shock. He had no idea what to do with this information. It turned everything he thought he knew about Crowley on its head.
"You burnt a Heavenly weapon to ash, with your bare hand?"
"Apparently yeah. Blew some of the ash in Beelzebub's face too I think." He scratched his head as he miracled some coffee and headed for the sofa.
"What?! That could have killed them!" Aziraphale squeaked.
"They were trying to kill you! If Dagon failed, they would have tried. They're not like Gabriel, they will get their hands dirty," Crowley countered.
"Well we just have to hope they aren't dead and there won't be any retaliation."
The demon was watching him intently.
"What is it?"
"How's your neck?"
"What?" Aziraphale frowned.
"Your neck. I bit you. How is it?"
"Oh, it's all healed."
Crowley looked at him sceptically.
With a huff, the angel sat beside him and let him look.
The mark was now golden in colour but didn't look like it hurt. It looked like a tattoo or a brand and Crowley winced. "I'm sorry," he whispered, pressing a light kiss to the site.
"It's fine," Aziraphale breathed, trying but failing to suppress the shiver the action generated.
The demon pulled back sharply, worried he'd hurt him, searching the angel's face. But all he saw was a slight blush as he wiggled in his seat.
"Angel?" A mischievous glint invaded Crowley's amber eyes.
"Yes dear?" Aziraphale tried to keep his voice steady, but with Crowley leaning so close it was almost impossible.
Closing the gap between his lips and the bite, Crowley pressed another kiss to the site and the angel sighed. Spurred on, Crowley put his legendary tongue to use and fluttered it against him, causing the blonde's sigh to turn into a whimper as he grabbed Crowley's thigh for support.
"You really are wicked sometimes," Aziraphale told him shakily.
"Might as well live up to my reputation somehow," he chuckled.
"You're definitely feeling better."
"Mmm." He shifted on the sofa so his back was against the arm and trapped Aziraphale between his legs, guiding him so his back was against his chest. He reassigned his lips and tongue back to the golden brand as his hands gently roamed across the angel's chest.