To be fair, Aziraphale thought it was just going to be one of those three day parties in celebration of goodness knows what that Rome was so famous for...complete with it's endless supply to goodies to nibble. He had gotten a prim bath and donned a new toga for the occasion, which he was now straightening one last time before arriving. However, when the double doors were opened to admit him into the grand 'ballroom' (for, indeed, later generations would take their inspiration for their ballrooms from the Romans), the sight that was before him shocked the angel. Of course, the rows of tables of food were not lost on the angel, it was what all the guests were doing that alarmed him. He knew he should turn away, yet he was so shocked that he couldn't force his eyes off the scene. There were groups of people splayed every which way everywhere across the room doing ...well, God only knows what. Frankly, he would rather not think about that part. So absorbed in his own inner turmoil of the orgy before him that Aziraphale was unaware of the drunken guest that had stumbled their way up to him until they spoke causing Aziraphale to jump slightly.
"Well, well, well. Fresh game.". The man slurred.
Aziraphale looked back and forth between the man and the rest of the room, a growing anxiety in the pit of his stomach. "I'm sorry. What?"
The man smiled a wide, fiendish sort of grin and stepped closer to the angel. He started to reach his hands out towards him, taking him by the arms. Awkwardly, the angel was pulled into an embrace and the man started to run his hands all over the angel's body.
He felt like running away but his feet and legs suddenly felt like they were anchored to the floor and immovable. It would take a miracle to get him out of here. "Miracle! Yes! That's what he needed!'. Aziraphale thought.
If by some magic, a familiar hand was firmly placed on the mans forearm, stopping his advances. Aziraphale almost cried out for joy when his brain registered that it was Crowley. Crowley forcefully removed the man's hands off of Aziraphale. He then stepped in between the man and the angel, forcing the man back a couple paces.
"Here now! What do you...". The man began to protest but Crowley interrupted him.
"Thisss iss MY angel!" Crowley said in a low, menacing voice, hissing just a bit.
Aziraphale shivered...and not just from the near miss he had just had.
The man was unconvinced. He crossed his arms in front of him defiantly, swaying back a forth. "Prove it.". He said, challenging.
Aziraphale's eyes went wide when Crowley never hesitated as he turned on his heel to face the angel. Crowley's eyes were vaguely apologetic. Aziraphale's breathing hitched and stopped all together when Crowley took his face carefully in his hands and crashed their lips together. Aziraphale's brain sputtered to a complete stop and the only thing in the universe that existed was the demon and the sensation of his moving lips against his own. It was...heaven, or rather it was what heaven was supposed to be like. Of it's own accord, a small whimper escaped the angel. Aziraphale could feel the demon smile in the kiss and he moved his hands from the angel's cheeks to wrap his arms around him and pull him in closer.
It was only a few seconds really, but in that time, everything in the universe and in the seven layers of heaven and the nine circles of hell, seemed to shift infinitesimally.
Crowley broke the kiss and looked over to where the man had been gapping at them. He had apparently staggered away to find a more receptive partner. Satisfied, he looked back at Aziraphale, who was blushing profusely.
Crowley belatedly remembered that he was still holding the angel in his arms and quickly let go and stepped back to give them both some space. Aziraphale fidgeted with his toga and looked everywhere except at the demon.
"Right. Well...I...umm...I mean..." Crowley stammered. He cleared his throat. The angel looked wretched. "Well," he began again, "let's get you out of here.". He guided the angel around the edge of the room through another set of doors to an outdoor patio that led to a garden. Aziraphale kept close to Crowley's side...it felt safer there. (Under different circumstances he would have probably laughed at that sort of dichotomy) On their way out, Aziraphale tried to ignore and Crowley glared at anyone that happened to look their way. Once outside Aziraphale took a few steadying deep breaths. Crowley kept a distance between them knowing the angel was probably still quite embarrassed. However, his curiosity was growing and getting the better of him. He cleared his throat again before he spoke.
"What the devil are you doing at this sort of thing, Angel?". Aziraphale didn't answer, just looked in the opposite direction. Crowley tried not to smile. "You didn't know what and orgy was, did you?".
"No." Aziraphale quietly answered. Then he turned to face the demon, his face still as red as could be. "I suppose that was one of your clever demonic ideas". He said sternly.
Crowley wasn't offended, not really. He simply shrugged it off. "Not exactly. I tempted person A to seduce person B and they got the idea themselves to keep inviting other people and make a big party of it.".
"Oh.". Was all Aziraphale managed to say then looked off into the distant hills.
"Honestly, Angel," Crowley pressed, "what sort of soiree did you think it was going to be?".
Flustered, Aziraphale turned back and spoke in a rush, babbling his explanation out. It reminded Crowley of the first time they had met and Aziraphale admitted to giving his sword away.
"I thought it was one of those pagan roman holidays, couldn't tell you which one though. I don't keep up with pagan holidays, mind. But ones where they don't do anything but wine and dine and dance and do theater for three days at a time. They have endless finger foods you know. And you remember the oysters? I heard they were bringing in more of those.". He paused and looked at the demon sheepishly.
Crowley couldn't help the grin pulling at the edges of his mouth.
"But I do thank you for extricating me from...". He trailed off momentarily, then, with a wave of his hand, "well, you know. I'm sorry dear fellow. I know it must have mortified you.".
Crowley didn't dare say what it had done to him. It was like the angel awoke some sort of protective instinct in him. He was not quite sure what to make of that.
Crowley didn't answer and just kept staring at him, Aziraphale hastily said,
"Well, I suppose I must be getting back. There are a lot of scrolls to be gone through.".
"Would you care for a drink first?". Crowley asked.
Sharing a drink or two and spending some time with the demon was an enticing thought...tempting even, but Aziraphale was too flustered at the moment.
He smiled weakly. "Some other time. I just came over for some refreshments but I'm afraid I've lost my appetite. Some other time.". He didn't give Crowley the chance to try and persuade him otherwise because he was already quickly going down the steps and into the garden.
Crowley stood there watching...watching and thinking. After a few minutes he miracled himself a goblet of wine and took a long drink.
"I'm going to have to keep an eye on that angel.".