Once they'd finished looking through the book, they went out for breakfast at a nearby café. It felt like they were on a date, and Aziraphale couldn't stop smiling.

Afterwards, they took a stroll through St James' park, and Aziraphale wished he could take Crowley's hand in his own, but fear stopped him. Even with Crowley scanning their surroundings with his mind, searching for any supernatural beings that might be close, Aziraphale didn't want to tempt fate. If someone saw them right now, walking side by side, he could pretend to be fishing for information on the curse and the Incubus that cast it. Hand holding could never be explained away.

For lunch, they enjoyed an afternoon tea in a little café, complete with dainty sandwiches, scones, cakes, and a pot of tea, and then they headed back to the bookshop to canoodle on the sofa. They took a brief break from all of the kissing to order food from one of Aziraphale's favourite restaurants, and then, once they'd finished eating, they enthusiastically got back to the kissing.

Aziraphale was enjoying himself immensely, clinging to Crowley on the sofa, but he was also being careful not to push Crowley too far, aware of what a big step all of this was for him. It was strange having their roles reversed like this. Usually Aziraphale was the one asking to slow down.

They were sat side by side, turned towards each other, and Aziraphale was stroking Crowley's back through his shirt, still not quite daring to push beneath it to touch his skin. It was clear that Crowley was aroused. There was a bulge in his trousers, and Aziraphale wanted to lay his hand on it, rub against the denim of his jeans. But he was scared Crowley wasn't ready to be touched like that. Perhaps he'd never be ready, and Aziraphale didn't want to pressure him. He wanted Crowley to be happy, to enjoy himself. Oh, but seeing the way he'd filled out his trousers, the way the material was pulled taut, it made him feel hot all over, his own cock aching in response. He'd never seen any evidence of Crowley having a cock before, never even the slightest bulge in 6000 years, to the point that he'd wondered if Crowley preferred having a vulva.

In the privacy of his own bedroom, Aziraphale often fantasised about Crowley having a vulva or a cock, or sometimes in his fantasies, Crowley was in his serpent form, coiled around him tightly, squeezing, and pressing inside of him with his hemipenes, his forked tongue flicking against his ear.

Aziraphale felt sure he'd want Crowley no matter what he had in his pants, he just didn't know how to convince Crowley of that. It was upsetting to know that Crowley hated any part of his body, and he hoped that, one day, Crowley would understand just how beautiful he was.

Crowley was desperately hard, his trousers bulging obscenely. Panic flared in his chest. If his erection was this obvious to him, then it must be obvious to Aziraphale. Cheeks burning, he looked down at himself, trying to imagine what he must look like to Aziraphale, but the shape of his cock was unclear. In fact, it looked like an ordinary cock when hidden under his clothing, and that helped him relax.

Crowley's gaze drifted, and he saw that Aziraphale's trousers were tented too. It made his own cock twitch, heat pooling in his belly. The realisation that they were both equally aroused, their bulges the same, had Crowley letting out a shaky sound of need.

He wanted to take things further. He wanted to touch Aziraphale where he needed it the most. But what if Aziraphale tried to do the same for him? If Aziraphale touched him, even with his trousers in the way, his fingers might feel out the unusual shape of him and the illusion would be broken.

Crowley imagined sliding to the floor and pulling Aziraphale out of his trousers. Fuck. He'd lick at the head of his cock, taste him, and then he'd take him into his mouth and make Aziraphale moan and beg for more.

His neglected cock ached at the thought of it. Maybe he could palm himself while he sucked Aziraphale off. Yeah. The mental image of himself on the floor servicing Aziraphale had him letting out a needy groan.

But he just sat there, indecisive, while Aziraphale clung to him, running a hand up and down his back. Crowley could feel the heat of Aziraphale's fingers through his shirt, and it sent sparks of pleasure across his skin. He wanted more, he wanted to feel the heat of Aziraphale's body against his own and suddenly he knew exactly what he wanted to do.

Crowley shifted on the sofa, drawing his feet up and stretching out, pulling Aziraphale on top of him.

Aziraphale towered over him, and then he laid down, pressing their arousals together and driving Crowley dizzy with want. Crowley let out a strangled sound, overwhelmed by how good it felt, but then Aziraphale lifted himself up again.

"Is this okay?" Aziraphale asked.

"Yesss. Get back down," Crowley said, tugging at Aziraphale's hips and then moaning when their bodies were flush again. "It's good," he repeated breathlessly. He felt safe like this. There were enough layers of material between them that rubbing their cocks together shouldn't give too much away. "Do you like it?"

Aziraphale kissed him. "Yes. You feel incredible," he said, and then his hips started to buck.

Crowley couldn't resist grinding upwards in reply, fingers tightening on the back of Aziraphale's waistcoat. He untucked Aziraphale's shirt and pushed his fingers underneath to touch the bare skin of his back, sliding up as far as he could go. Aziraphale was warm and soft, his powerful muscles working as he rocked on top of him.

Crowley wrapped his thighs around Aziraphale' waist, trying to pull him in closer, his hips moving desperately, needing more, his trousers were so tight over his cock that it almost hurt but the friction was bringing him closer and closer to the edge. To think, he'd been worried that he'd be too self-conscious to cum. Now he didn't think he'd be able to hold back even if he tried.

Aziraphale was on his elbows with one hand in Crowley's hair, holding his face as he kissed him, grinding against him in a slow but steady rhythm, and Crowley felt helpless as he writhed beneath him.

A gasp of surprise and Crowley's whole body was trembling, shockwaves of pleasure washing through him. He squeezed his eyes shut as he came, his mouth falling open, and Aziraphale continued to grind against him while Crowley whimpered, dampness soaking into his underwear.

"Oh! Oh, Crowley. Did you just…?"

"Ngk. Y- Yeah..." Crowley said with a shaky laugh, embarrassed and overjoyed. He hadn't thought he'd ever get to have this with anyone, let alone Aziraphale. He opened his eyes and saw Aziraphale looking down at him with such reverence and desire that it made his chest ache.

Aziraphale was thrusting against him wantonly now, laying frantic kisses over Crowley's open mouth. Aziraphale's moans were loud and desperate, his usual restraint gone. A sharp intake of breath and Aziraphale was gasping Crowley's name and pinning him down into the sofa cushions, shuddering in place, his cheeks pink and his hair dishevelled. Crowley couldn't tear his eyes away.

Aziraphale collapsed on top of him, and Crowley wrapped his arms around him.

They stayed like that for a while, both panting.

Aziraphale was the first to break the silence. "Am I squashing you?" he asked, lifting himself up a bit.

"Nah," Crowley said, holding him even tighter. "I like having you on top of me."

Aziraphale settled back down. "I like it too. Though I fear I've made quite a mess of my trousers."

"That makes two of us. I can take care of that with a spot of infernal magic, if you like?"

"Oh, please."

Crowley clicked his fingers and the uncomfortable stickiness vanished for both of them.

"That's much better. Thank you, my dear." Aziraphale kissed him on the mouth. "That was... Oh, it was wonderful."

"You're wonderful," Crowley said.

"You look very beautiful in the throes of passion."

"Shuddup."

As they lay there, Crowley's eyes started to drift closed. He felt content and happy with Aziraphale in his arms, but soon enough Aziraphale got to his feet and stretched. Crowley watched him with appreciative eyes.

"Sorry if I woke you," said Aziraphale.

"Nah. Was only drifting."

"Would you like to sleep in my bed? Upstairs? It's far more comfortable than the sofa."

Heart fluttering, Crowley sat up. "Are you gonna sleep too? I didn't know you were in the habit."

"I probably won't, to be honest. But it'll be nice to cuddle. I'll bring a book with me."

Crowley smiled, liking the idea of sleeping beside his angel. "Yeah. Go on then."

Soon, Crowley was being led upstairs. He'd never been in the flat above the bookshop before, and it made him buzz with nervous excitement. The bedroom was just as cosy and cluttered as the bookshop itself, books and trinkets on every surface, but Crowley's attention was immediately drawn to the large bed with its ivory-coloured sheets and sturdy brass headboard.

They changed into their nightwear using their powers, Crowley's clothes morphing into black silk pyjamas while Aziraphale was suddenly dressed in pale blue pyjamas, his daytime clothes appearing on a chair in a neatly folded pile.

They climbed under the sheets, and it was exhilarating to curl up beside Aziraphale, to feel the heat of his body against to his own. Crowley fell asleep while listening to the soothing sound of pages turning.

Crowley was jerked awake when the bed shook ominously, his eyes flying open as the mattress shifted under the weight of another person. He looked up and was greeted by an angel in pyjamas getting out of bed.

"Sorry," said Aziraphale. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Hi," said Crowley stupidly, a goofy smile spreading across his face as the events of the previous evening came back to him.

"I was just about to make coffee. Would you like some? Or would you prefer to sleep a little longer?"

"Coffee, please. What time is it?"

"Eight."

Aziraphale came over to Crowley's side of the bed, leant down and kissed him. Crowley returned the kiss with a giddy kind of enthusiasm. Before leaving the room Aziraphale gave a happy little wiggle, and Crowley's heart was full to bursting as he watched him go.

Waking up in Aziraphale's bed was like something out of a dream, and a part of him still couldn't believe this was really happening. He thought of all that has happened yesterday and let out a blissful sigh, remembering assuring words, bashful kisses, and dry humping on the sofa. His cock swelled at the memory, sliding free of his cloaca, though it was thankfully still hidden by his PJs and the thick duvet. It occurred to him with a jolt of excitement that they could get frisky under the sheets like this and there'd be no chance of Aziraphale seeing it.

As much as Crowley had been considering the idea of eventually showing Aziraphale his cock, he was now having second thoughts. But they could keep doing it this way, wearing just enough clothes to hide the thing between his legs. There was still plenty they could do, plenty of ways Crowley could please Aziraphale. He didn't want to risk putting Aziraphale off altogether by showing him his cock or his cloaca.

Crowley's stomach twisted. Oh, but a part of him wanted Aziraphale to see it. He wanted him to like it. He sat up with a sigh. There was no use in torturing himself about it right now. They'd agreed to take things slow at first anyway. He'd see how he felt later. Right now he wanted to enjoy this time they had together.

He was just about to climb out of bed in order to join Aziraphale in the kitchen when he heard footsteps on the stairs and the sound of cheerful whistling. Aziraphale glided in with a tea tray and placed it on Crowley's lap. On the tray sat two steaming mugs of coffee, a plate of croissants, and a little white vase with a single red rose in it.

Crowley lifted an eyebrow. "Do you usually have floral arrangements on your breakfast tray?"

Aziraphale chuckled, his cheeks turning pink. "Well, I have company this morning, and I thought you might appreciate breakfast in bed." He wiggled happily. "This is all very romantic, you staying the night."

"Demons don't do romance," Crowley said while trying to come up with something deeply romantic he could do for Aziraphale later. "Too busy being wicked fiends."

Aziraphale swatted him playfully and then they ate the croissants and drank the coffee. Once it was all gone, Aziraphale set the tray to one side and drew Crowley into a hug, which turned into a very enthusiastic snog.

Before Crowley knew it, the duvet had slid to the floor. So much for hiding himself under the covers. He pulled his knees up, desperate to hide the evidence of his erection. But the black silk of his pyjamas didn't give away too much of his unusual shape, even when he stretched out his legs, and beside him, Aziraphale was just as aroused, his own erection tenting his pyjamas.

Crowley shivered with anticipation as Aziraphale's hands stroked up and down his sides, moving over his pyjama top. He wanted those hands touching his skin.

"You can take my top off," Crowley said, heart racing at the thought of being undressed. "If you want to."

Immediately, Aziraphale was unbuttoning his pyjama shirt, hands clumsy with impatience.

"I'd better keep my pyjama bottoms on though," Crowley added apologetically.

"Alright." Aziraphale looked up at him with a smile, and then he got the last button undone and Crowley shrugged out of his pyjama top.

Aziraphale was staring at his naked chest greedily, his eyes drifting over him in a way that made Crowley feel hot all over.

"You're so beautiful," Aziraphale said.

Crowley's face heated at the praise.

Those hands were at his bare sides in a flash, stroking upwards before spreading out over his chest, through the red hair there, and then down over his stomach before moving back up again. He started to play with Crowley's nipples, making them harden, drawing involuntary moans from him.

"You like that?" Aziraphale whispered.

Crowley made a weak sound, nodding while Aziraphale rubbed little circles.

"You're so sensitive," Aziraphale said, dipped his head and licking at a nipple. Crowley had to bite his lower lip against the pleasure of it, writhing in place as Aziraphale teased him.

"Can I- Your shirt?" Crowley gasped.

"Of course."

Crowley fumbled with the buttons while Aziraphale continued to touch his nipples, each button revealing another tantalising inch of skin, until Aziraphale was shrugging out of his shirt and throwing it to the side. Crowley grabbed at his body, trying to memorise everything, wanting to touch every part of him.

Aziraphale's hands were trailing down over Crowley's stomach, and the moment one hand got dangerously close to the waistband of Crowley's pyjama bottoms, he grabbed Aziraphale's wrist.

"No touching below the belt, okay?" Crowley said. As much as his cock ached to be touched, he couldn't risk it. "Not even with my pyjamas on."

"Okay," Aziraphale said, his voice gentle. "We could do what we did last night? With the grinding?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that."

Aziraphale laid down on top of him and the moment their arousals met Crowley shuddered with delight. They started to move, their cocks rubbing together, only two layers of material between them this time. Pyjamas were definitely an improvement on jeans – far less chaffing.

Suddenly Aziraphale was rolling them both over, pulling Crowley on top of him. Crowley found himself braced with a hand either side of Aziraphale's face, and he grinned down at him as he rolled his hips, feeling ridiculous, embarrassed and overjoyed all at once.

The way Aziraphale was moaning, his half-lidded eyes, the press of his cock – it was all too much, and Crowley was suddenly letting out a garbled noise as he came, his hips pushing down. He buried his face against Aziraphale's throat while Aziraphale grabbed his arse in both hands, thrusting up against him, over and over, until he was coming too, moaning in his ear as he spilled between them.

They slowed to a stop, both of them panting, and then they burst into laughter at the mess they'd made of their pyjamas, sticky with both of their cum.

Barely an hour later and they were having brunch in a local café. Crowley couldn't help the smile that was permanently plastered on his face as they sat side by side, their hands linked under the table.

Once they'd finished eating, Aziraphale explained that he needed to be getting back to the bookshop. He had several phone calls to make regarding book orders and it might take a while, but Crowley was more than welcome to join him. Crowley decided against it, telling Aziraphale that he had some stuff to do back at the flat and that he'd pick Aziraphale up for dinner later.

"Oh! Where shall we go?" Aziraphale asked excitedly.

"Well… I was thinking. How bout I make dinner at mine tonight?"

Aziraphale beamed. "That sounds wonderful."

Crowley walked Aziraphale home, went inside for a quick snog, and then drove into town to get the things he needed for the perfect dinner date.

Aziraphale was positively vibrating with excitement as he waited for Crowley to pick him up. He'd been watching the clock impatiently all afternoon.

When the car pulled up outside – five minutes early, to his surprise – Aziraphale bounded to the door, fumbled with the lock, and then threw the door open just in time to see Crowley step out onto the pavement. He was clutching a bouquet of red roses in one hand and a heart-shaped box of chocolates in the other.

"Oh! Oh, Crowley!" Aziraphale gasped, beaming as he pulled Crowley inside and kissed him. They went into the kitchenette, found a vase for the flowers, and then carefully placed the display on the windowsill.

"Let's take these with us," said Aziraphale, tucking the box of chocolates into his satchel. He rearranged the book, toothbrush and pyjamas that he'd already packed, and Crowley raised an eyebrow. "Oh," said Aziraphale, suddenly feeling rather presumptuous. "Just in case you wanted me to stay the night."

"Of course I do, angel. C'mon." Crowley kissed him, took Aziraphale's hand in his own and then led him to the door.

Aziraphale rarely went to Crowley's flat - they usually spent their time in the bookshop - but it was just how he remembered it. Or at least, it was until they reached the dining area.

There were candles all around the room, casting a warm glow over everything. Rose petals had been scattered over a circular dining table, the centrepiece of which was a candelabra, and all around that were dozens of platters of sushi. A bottle of champagne sat in an ice bucket off to one side.

Aziraphale stepped closer. Soy sauce had been drizzled over every platter in the shape of hearts. He clasped his hands together in front of his chest and looked up at Crowley. "Oh, this is so romantic! I thought you said demons don't do romance?"

Crowley shrugged. "I'm just trying to get you into bed, aren't I."

"You old serpent." Aziraphale chuckled. "As though you even need to try."

After dinner and dessert, they put on a film and started to eat the chocolates, but they were barely ten minutes in before they were ignoring the television and kissing instead.

There was a glint in Crowley's eyes. "How about we take this into the bedroom?"

Aziraphale leapt to his feet, full of nervous excitement, and then Crowley took his hand and led him down the corridor.

Aziraphale had never been in Crowley's bedroom before. The space was bare. Minimalist, Crowley would probably call it. There was a large bed with silver-grey sheets, two bedside tables, a built-in wardrobe which took up an entire wall, and a pair of ferns guarding the door.

Crowley was stood by the bed, biting his lower lip, and then he seemed to come to a decision. "Shall we undress each other? I'm happy for my trousers to come off but I should keep my underwear on."

Buzzing with anticipation, Aziraphale nodded. Their clothes came off quickly, hands touching newly bared skin, until they were stood together in nothing but their underwear.

Aziraphale was wearing his usual white boxers, while Crowley was wearing black boxer briefs made of thick cotton with a tight elastic waist. Aziraphale longed to push his hand inside and touch him. Instead he wrapped his arms around Crowley's back and pulled him closer, feeling their erections press together. Their hips started to rock while they kissed and touched. Crowley's tongue pushed inside of Aziraphale's mouth, making him shiver and moan at the invasion of it. He was reminded all at once of how long Crowley's tongue was. Not forked. Not now.

"Do you want to take your underwear off?" Crowley asked, hope in his voice. "I need to keep mine on, but I'd like to see you. If that's okay."

Aziraphale let out a shaky sound. His underwear did feel rather restrictive. "Would you like to remove them for me?"

Instantly, Crowley's hands fell to Aziraphale's waist, fingers hooking into his waistband, and then his underwear was being slowly pulled down his legs. Aziraphale's face felt hot as he looked down and saw himself suddenly on show, his cock jutting upwards.

"Oh, angel, you're perfect." Crowley whispered, reaching out for him but then hesitating.

"Please," Aziraphale said.

The breath caught in Aziraphale's throat as fingers wrapped around his cock, holding him in a loose grip. He swallowed, shockwaves of pleasure running through him as Crowley's attention moved from the head of his cock all the way down his length to his balls. No one had ever touched him so intimately. Crowley's fingers were hesitant as he explored him, still learning, and he was so gentle it verged on teasing.

Aziraphale wondered how different they were in how they liked to be touched, if Crowley would also enjoy being stroked like he did or if his cock worked entirely differently. All thoughts scattered as Crowley took him in a firm grip and started to pump him.

"Oh..." Aziraphale grabbed Crowley's shoulders to steady himself, legs suddenly weak.

"Am I doing it right?"

"Y- Yes. It's perfect."

In fact, it felt so good that Aziraphale was rocking his hips, nudging himself into the tightness of Crowley's fist. He could come like this, and the thought of that had him biting back a groan.

Crowley made an amused sound and then let go of him. "Sit on the edge of the bed for me."

Aziraphale rushed to the bed and then sat down heavily.

Crowley moved to stand in front of him, bent down to kiss him deeply, and then he was sinking to his knees. "Can I use my mouth?"

Aziraphale's face heated, a shiver running through him at the thought of it. "Yes," he said, and then added, partly because he felt guilty that he wouldn't be able to do the same for Crowley, "so long as you're sure you want to."

"I'm sure. I can't wait to get my mouth on you, angel. I'll stop before you cum, okay? Let's not break the curse just yet."

"I'll warn you when I'm close."

Crowley took the base of Aziraphale's cock in one hand and then licked a wet stripe up the underside. Aziraphale let out a shaky breath, fingers gripping the bedsheets. Crowley seemed encouraged and did it again before mouthing at the head, his tongue swirling and licking away the bead of precum that had already formed. Then Crowley was sinking down, taking him all the way inside, moaning as he did so, mouth stretching around him obscenely. Aziraphale watched, shaking with the intensity of it, aroused by the sight of him as Crowley started to bob his head up and down.

"That feels incredible," Aziraphale said, his voice trembling.

Crowley moaned around his cock, a needy sound, and the vibration of it made Aziraphale shudder.

How many times had he wondered what this would feel like? How many times had he fantasised about Crowley pleasing him, just like this?

He couldn't resist stroking Crowley's hair while he watched himself slide between parted lips. There was a blissed-out look on Crowley's face, his eyes half-lidded and golden from edge to edge. Aziraphale listened, enrapt, to the lewd sounds of Crowley sucking on him, but he could hear another sound too and it took him a moment to place it. Crowley's right arm was moving, his whole body bent forward in such a way that Aziraphale couldn't see anything, but he knew that Crowley was touching himself. The thought of it had pleasure surging hot and unstoppable inside of him.

"St-! Stop! I'm going to-!" Aziraphale cried, shuffling backwards on the bed even as Crowley's head shot up, releasing him from his mouth.

Crowley's eyes were wide, staring nervously at Aziraphale's cock.

Aziraphale whimpered at the loss of contact, at being so close to the edge without tipping over it. "It's okay. It's okay," he breathed, his voice cracking.

Fingers wrapped around him and suddenly Crowley was stroking him, watching intently as he did so, his other hand working furiously just out of sight.

The breath caught in Aziraphale's throat, and he barely managed to choke out a warning before he was coming across his own thighs, Crowley's hand, and, to his horror, Crowley's face and even his hair.

"Sorry!" Aziraphale gasped.

But if Crowley was offended, he certainly didn't show it. In fact, he was looking rather pleased with himself, and then he was trembling and tensing, whimpering as he clung to Aziraphale's thigh with a sticky hand, smearing Aziraphale's own cum across his knee.

"Are you coming?" Aziraphale asked, fairly confident of the answer but wanting to be sure.

"Y- Yeah," Crowley whined against Aziraphale's thigh, and then after a moment he looked up at him with a lopsided grin, his face flushed. "Fuck. That was hot."

A thrill shot through Aziraphale, but then his smile faltered. "Oh, your poor face. I'm so sorry." Guilt and arousal battled it out, but, oh, Crowley did look wonderful painted like that.

Crowley laughed mischievously and licked away some of the mess with his long tongue. "You taste delicious, angel."

"Oh, you fiend!" Aziraphale gasped, his tone scandalised even though he knew his face must betray his delight.

Crowley clicked his fingers and suddenly they were both cleaned up. He got to his feet, his black underwear firmly in place, a slight bulge still visible as he sat down beside Aziraphale on the bed. Aziraphale's own cock was starting to soften now, and he pulled Crowley down into the bed, cuddling up next to him under the dark covers. He considered fetching his pyjamas from his satchel in the living room, but he was rather enjoying the feel of silk sheets against his bare skin and of Crowley's body pressed to his own, their bare legs tangled together.

Would Crowley dare to be naked with him one day? Would Crowley perch on the edge of the bed and let Aziraphale suck him off? Aziraphale wanted to, he'd fantasised about it more times than he could count. He wanted Crowley to know what it felt like, he wanted to make him cum with nothing more than his mouth and his tongue.

Aziraphale held Crowley close, listening to the sound of his breathing levelling out, watching his face as he fell asleep.