What About Angels?

by Phenobarbital

"Isn't it funny, that after everything we did to go against our respective sides, I ended up the official Supreme Archangel of Heaven, and you, the unofficial Grand Duke of Hell." Aziraphale said with a weak breathy huff of laughter. Crowley let those words sink in before he scoffed quietly, "No, I don't think it's funny at all..." *-Crowley tries to let go of his Angel.-* [slash]

2. so is it wrong to dance this line?

N.B: Some minor sentences have been edited and a portion removed from this chapter which contains explicit NC17 content.

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"I'm s-sorry." Aziraphale started, taking a false step forward before staying where he was, looking sorry and regretful, just as he had back in the dimly lit pub. Except there, in Crowley's flat, the lighting was far better, and Crowley could see him more clearly, was able to notice things he hadn't before. He could see that Aziraphale looked distressed, and that he was just a bit thinner, which irked him, but only because he knew it was the result of the angel not being able to indulge in the human food he loved so much. Also, while his previous choice of clothing style was unchanged, the well-worn ones the angel had liked and maintained for so long were gone, replaced by pristine, new and very starched ones. He looked so...new, and as beautiful as ev-, "I know we agreed years ago that we would never just appear in one another's living spaces," he gestured around the room with his hands, "but Crowley," the words were said breathily with a slight tremble to them, and that time he actually took a small step closer, his face creasing with deep sadness, "you left so suddenly, and you looked so angry and I had to catch up to you as fast as I could. So, I'm sorry to have just let myself in, but I've been waiting for you." he was talking in a rush, wringing his hands in front of him. "I've been waiting here," he waved a hand to the side, "at this building for more than a day." Crowley frowned at hearing that, not properly comprehen- "Where were yo-?"

What?

"Where was I?" he said sharply and loudly, cutting Aziraphale off rudely, glaring as his anger rushed to the forefront all over again. But he couldn't hold eye contact for long, because he was suddenly self-conscious of the fact that his eyes had been looking more demonic since he'd been more active in Hell and he didn't want Aziraphale to see that, and since his glasses were on the floor, all he could do was make himself look away from the angel's face. Just as well, because that face was one he'd memorized and spent so much time thinking about and...oh, Hell, he was seething, "Nghhno, you don't get to ask me where I've-hn..." he clenched his teeth, tried to focus on what was more important, "What are you doing here?" His anger tore through his self-consciousness and he looked at Aziraphale again, breathing through his bared teeth, "Why aren't you in Heaven," Crowley flicked his glowing yellow eyes up in a mocking way, "doing your holy work?" and he said it like an insult. Meant it that way too.

It wasn't that he wanted to be so ugly about the whole thing, but Aziraphale's last words to him had been an insult, a sickening 'I forgive you' in the wake of a kiss and Crowley felt justified in being an arsehole right then.

Aziraphale continued to look so sorry and worried and even pained, as if he was hurting, as if Crowley's word stung him. Well, good if they did. He deserved it.

"Crowley, I understand that you're angry, but I, I've come because I needed to see you, to talk to you-"

"I don't want to talk to you, Aziraphale." he said firmly, managing not to choke on saying that name aloud for the first time in years. And he meant what he said too, the sound of Aziraphale's voice being so gentle and nervous and pleading, and the pain underlining it, it was stinging him right back. It wasn't fair, damnit! He was the one who'd been rejected, he was the one who'd been left-

" You were right," Crowley almost choked, his mouth dropping open, "you were right, I was wrong, you were right. " Aziraphale finished in the final position of the 'I was wrong' dance and Crowley could only stare in disbelief. When the angel righted himself, standing up straight, Crowley closed his mouth and drew himself up, turning slightly away from the angel as he swallowed sorely against even more rising anger. Aziraphale noticed, and he took a hasty step forward again, but Crowley side eyed him with a 'stay where you are' look, to which Aziraphale looked like he would cry, saying, "Sh-shall I do it again. I will, Crowley, please, I'll do it a hund-"

It was too much,

"You can't do a stupid fucking dance to sort this out." and that time his voice was harsher than before, not his usual rough way of speaking. He genuinely yelled at Aziraphale.

Silence settled between them then, not even a breath could be heard. Aziraphale was just standing stiffly, shoulders slouched, looking chastised and lost. His blue eyes were shining with unshed tears and his lips were pinched together. But even though he was distressed and sad, the angel kept looking right at him and it was making him want to scream.

Crowley had to look away first again, because of course he did, because even though he hadn't done a single thing wrong, he was still too weak to keep staring into those blue eyes. He was also rapidly running out of steam to be angry, which just left all the terrible self-sorry emotions behind, and that had him exhaling loudly and sagging his shoulders, letting his white knuckled fists unclench as he shook his head,

"You should g-"

"No." Aziraphale responded, voice soft but firm as he stepped forward yet again, leaving only three or so feet of space between them. It was pathetic, but Crowley side stepped and then stepped backwards as well to put more distance between them, shaking his head again,

"Yes," he practically croaked, not making eye contact and feeling so completely shit, "you need to leave, go back to Heav-,"

"I won't." Aziraphale said stubbornly, turning on the spot where he stood to follow Crowley's movement when he walked around to the other side of his desk by the windows, only stopping when it was between them. It was a weak defense, but it was all he could do right then, feeling so defeated with all the fight draining out of him...and especially when he looked wearily at the angel and saw the stubborn pouty frown on Aziraphale's face.

Crowley knew that look, and he knew there would be no getting the angel to leave, so in another pathetic act of weakness, he raised his hands at his sides and let them fall again, saying,

"Fine, if you won't leave, I'll just go back to Hell for a while," he didn't miss the flicker of horrified shock on Aziraphale's face, "you'll definitely have gone by the time I decide to ret-"

"Crowley, you can't go back to Hell," Aziraphale said quickly, sounding a little panicky and coming closer again, making Crowley tense up despite the desk between them, "it's not safe. Don-"

"Oh, it's safe." he cut the angel off with some intentionally spiteful smugness, wanting to say something to upset Aziraphale the same way he was upset, "You wanted to know where I've come from?" he affected a casual tone, "I've just been in Hell for a few days, working- or, actually, unofficially running the place because Beelzebub's gone off with Gabriel, you remember?" he took a shot at Aziraphale and watched him flinch, which was somewhat satisfying, so after putting one hand in his pocket he nonchalantly continued, "Also, Satan's busy with Armageddon two point oh, and Shax just can't hack it." he overenunciated the last two words and then kept his teeth clenched, because seeing Aziraphale's face looking paler and his eyes wide in shock was not as gratifying as Crowley had hoped. If anything, the fact that the angel's expression was underlined with disappointment made Crowley grimace and start to get angry again. He growled under his breath, angry that Aziraphale had the audacity to judge his choice when the angel had basically done the exact same fucking thing in Heaven! The fuse of anger didn't quite catch though, fizzling out at irritation since there was nothing for it, so Crowley just exhaled shortly and said, "So if you won't leave, I will, because I'm not doing this." he gestured from Aziraphale to himself, "Whatever this is." and he should have stopped there, but he felt spiteful and added bitterly, "I did it for over 6000 years," the words spoken through clenching teeth, "and what did I get for it?" he raised his eyebrows before mockingly finishing with, "Your forgiveness?" in a sarcastically, high pitched questioning tone.

That time, despite not necessarily enjoying seeing Aziraphale hurting, the justification he felt made him really soak in the pain that settled into the angel's face. But that, well, it was more than enough, he didn't want to see any more pain on that face, he didn't want to see those blue eyes hurt ever again, especially not because of him. So again, he was the one to look away and he waved his hand in the direction of the door behind Aziraphale,

"I told you not to bother, member'?" his tone was a bit choked, "So just leave. You shouldn't be here with me, I'm just a demon..." he stared off to the side as he mumbled, "one of the bad guys."

"You're not just a demon. You're not just anything!" Aziraphale said with such strong conviction Crowley looked at him again, "You're so much more, Crowley. So much better than that." he added, a surprisingly earnest weight in his trembling voice and Crowley didn't like it, that Aziraphale could say such a thing after what he'd chosen, after how the angel had left him. He also didn't like that it sounded as if Aziraphale was about to preach the possibility of angelhood to him again!

He narrowed his eyes at Aziraphale before cocking an eyebrow and bringing a hand up to point at him,

"Don't you dare." he warned, and he was serious, "Don't you dare say anything to me about being appointed an angel." he sneered, outright glaring at Aziraphale and not holding back his opinion on the matter, "I don't want to be an angel ever again, and whatever you remember of me being an angel was barely anything. In Heaven I was barely more than an instrument, a pawn. I didn't know anything back then and asking questions, wanting to know anything, made me damnable." he said how he honestly felt and he watched more tears gather in Aziraphale's eyes, "Your Heaven doesn't want me anymore than I want it." he grit out, sneering mouth twitching, "This is me, Aziraphale." he stated, saying the angel's name pointedly, being the one to take a step forward then, "Crowley, that is my only name, that is who I am." he stated solemnly, "And the Crowley that you know, the Crowley that you..." he swallowed tensely, not noticing Aziraphale taking another step closer along the side of the desk, too focused on getting a handle on his emotions as he kept going, "the Crowley that you befriended," he said the world bitterly, "is a demon." his voice was straining and he shook his head, hating the burning feeling in his eyes and nose. "That's the long and short of it, and I won't change that, I don't want to change tha-"

He had to cut himself off, hands coming up at his sides automatically because Aziraphale had very suddenly taken the final steps required to close the distance between them, which left Crowley too caught off guard to step back without falling over his own booted feet. And just like that, Aziraphale had stepped up incredibly close to him, into his personal space, almost as close as that day in the bookshop when they'd kiss-

"I know," he breathed out shakily, "I've known it all along and that's why I'm here, to apologize."

"...wot'?" Crowley was so confused, his eyes wide as he tried to adjust to Aziraphale's sudden proximity.

"I should never have misunderstood you, Crowley, having known you for so long." the angel shook his head with a small, sad smile, "But I did, and I misunderstood myself too, and my feelings, and what those feelings really were and what they really meant and Crowley," he leaned closer and took in a shaken breath, his expression changing to what looked like adoration, and all Crowley could do was stare unblinkingly down at him when he said, "my dear Crowley." oh, fu- Satan what in all of Hell. Crowley felt his body get weak at hearing Aziraphale's loving tone coupled with those three particular words, his human heart suddenly racing, "I was wrong to ever want to change you." Aziraphale finished, voice quiet and so, so sincere.

Crowley was reeling, having not expected...well, this. Aziraphale saying these things and looking at him that way. And he was just about to open his mouth to say some hopefully comprehensible words, when Aziraphale's expression became deeply guilt-ridden and troubled and he said,

"And it's even worse than I'd thought, the repercussions of what I've done," he sounded like he was going to cry, "because of my actions, my foolish choice that day, I've pushed you back in the direction of Hell, and I know you nev-"

"Woaah, nnnono," that snapped Crowley out of his stupor, because he'd never allow Aziraphale to blame himself for any of his actions or choices, "no, thas' not-" he shook his head just when Aziraphale looked up at him, making him have to take a second to form the words, which he spoke in a flowing mumble, "I'm not back with Hell because of you, and not officially, s'more like a," he made a dismissive face, "like I'm a freelance demon." he shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows as he looked down into Aziraphale's still wet eyes, but now his expression was becoming curious, "Nothing binding, come and go as I please." he made it sound more harmless than it was, but he'd always sugarcoated circumstances in Hell when talking to Aziraphale, so he topped it off with the slightest smirk and a tip of his head, "S'pretty sweet gig."

Aziraphale was frowning, seemingly skeptical and up so close Crowley found himself cataloguing the expressive tiny details of Aziraphale's fac-,

"A freelance demon, you say?" he asked, sounding bemused, "Really?"

Wanting to reassure him and get rid of those unshed tears, Crowley nodded and muttered,

"Yeah, was bored, needed summat' to do." he blinked languidly, only to be reminded about his bare demonically regressed eyes. But even though he immediately tried to avoid direct eye contact, Aziraphale followed his gaze stubbornly asking,

"But what about Satan? He's alright with it?"

Crowley looked off to the side and made a 'who knows' face,

"He doesn't know," he mumbled and Aziraphale's eyebrows shot up, "an'even if he does, I don't think he cares, probably doesn't want to bother with me." he kept looking around the room, "Haven't heard from him since the night he gave me instructions on the delivery of the antichrist, mind." he admitted.

"Oh, well, that's good then!" Aziraphale exclaimed suddenly, sounding relieved and Crowley tensed because the angel was close enough that when he bobbed up and forward, it momentarily brought their faces closer, making Crowley's heart race all over again.

"Is it?" he asked absently, distracted by his self-sorry fear of feeling too much more than he already was if Aziraphale got any closer to him, afraid of wanting to reach out, grab him...pull him closer.

"Yes, yes, of course," the angel was smiling, "it means you can leave, anytime!" he sounded so enthused about that...and his words, and the strangeness of them, were enough to bring Crowley out of his heart-eyed stupor, wariness once again rising to the surface. He finally took a step back, looking away from Aziraphale as he said,

"Why would I do that?" he stepped further and further away, fully aware that Aziraphale's smile was fading, "I've got nothing on, lotsa' free time, keeps me busy." he made excuses for his continued stint unofficially working in Hell, meanwhile walking back around his desk to head into the bar nook, where the door was already open.

Aziraphale was taking steps as well, following him slowly, saying,

"I just meant- I only meant that it's good that you're not bound to them is all," he sounded apologetic again, "I know how much you didn't want to go back, so at least it's only unofficially."

Crowley stood inside the bar nook, sulkily thinking,

'Well, I did go back, so the joke's on me.' as he went through the routine of pouring himself a double shot of whiskey. Thing was, he'd gone back entirely voluntarily, just as Aziraphale had, so he only had himself to blame.

Silence fell again, no breathing, and only at length, when Crowley had already knocked back a double shot to wash down his trepidation and was pouring another, Aziraphale said,

"Isn't it funny," his quiet steps came to a stop, his voice soft, uncertain, "that after everything we did to go against our respective sides, I ended up the official Supreme Archangel of Heaven, and you, the unofficial Grand Duke of Hell." he finished with a weak breathy huff of laughter.

If he'd been aiming to lighten the mood, he failed miserably, and Crowley, who'd just downed his second double shot, let those words sink in with another lapse of silence, before he scoffed quietly. He absently set the glass down and staring at the wall he somberly said,

"No, I don't think it's funny at all..." because it wasn't supposed to end up this way, he didn't say, instead licking the whiskey off his lips and lifting up the uncappped bottle to pour another shot.

"I'm so sorry, Crowley, I-"

He set the bottle down abruptly with a thud, spilling some whiskey,

"Stop apologizing," Crowley said empathically, turning around with the tumbler in hand to look at Aziraphale, pausing briefly when he found Aziraphale standing only three feet from him, effectively cornering him in the nook, "you- you've nothing to apologize for," he met the angel's gaze head on then, figuring it was too late to keep hiding his eyes when Aziraphale had plainly seen them. He just blinked tiredly and made sure he sounded sincere when he gruffly added, "nothing at all." even referring to the kiss that had been rejected. Although whether Aziraphale would know that...Crowley looked away, mumbling, "Alright?"

Aziraphale just stared at him.

He sighed and drank his shot.

Then,

"It's not fine." Aziraphale said firmly, face all stubbornly pouty again, "And anyway, I'm not just here to apologize." Crowley raised his eyebrows, tipped his head back, his unspoken way of saying 'oh, really?'. He felt too emotionally drained to talk anymore, too defeated to run or hide, "That was only a part of why I came back to Earth, why I came to see you." the angel breathed out, tone adamant.

Crowley took his turn to just stare for a long quiet moment, taking in the details of 'Supreme Archangel Aziraphale'; his slightly thinner human body, due to abstention from human food, and adorned top to bottom with new, perfect clothes, his pale hair a naturally fluffy mess. He still stood the same way, with his feet together, his posture upright, hands at his sides...clenched into fists. That wasn't right. Aziraphale was obviously still distressed, and Crowley didn't want to say anything else nasty or off putting, didn't want to yell at Aziraphale or try to drive him away. Best to just let him say whatever he came all the way to say and be done with it.

Deciding that, he leaned his hip against the sideboard, keeping his eyes on Aziraphale as he said,

"Alright, what is it then? Why else have you come to Earth to see me?" placing his glass on the sideboard top and putting his hands in his pockets.

Aziraphale looked relieved at his acquiescence, and then he grinned sweetly and said,

"Well, there are two rather pressing matters I've come to sort out with you," Crowley made a 'go on' expression...and then he tensed up because Aziraphale was closing the gap again, one step, two, three, "but one is far more important and urgent than the other as far as I'm concerned." and his voice was softer by the time he came as close as he'd been before, and then even closer-

"Aziraphale, wha-" Crowley stopped talking, mouth partially open and glowing eyes widening when the angel's hands gently slid under his jacket lapels to take a light hold of each one, the angel looking up at him with a distinct coyness, and sounding it too, when he said,

"Allow me to address this issue directly."

And then Aziraphale's fingers tightened on his lapels, the angel closing his eyes and rising up just so onto his toes, just enough to close the gap of difference in their height in order to press their lips together in a kiss, which was not only gentler and more accurate and careful than Crowley's desperate, rushed attempt in the past had been, but it also held much more rightness and somehow more gravity. The unexpectedness of it almost K.O'd him though, making him close his eyes tightly and take a sharp breath in through his nose as he numbly leaned back against the sideboard, his head spinning from shock and surprise.

The kiss was both soft and firm and it was completely without haste. And Aziraphale was still holding onto his jacket, holding on to him, making the kiss linger. He was drawing it out and leaning up into it and it was impossible for Crowley not to notice how their lips were perfectly aligned in a way that would make it easy for him to suck on the angel's bottom lip, catch it gently between his teeth. Could easily wrap his arms around Aziraphale's waist and pull him flush against him, leaving no space for Jesus between them, as the humans liked to joke...

But he didn't. Nor did he follow Aziraphale's lips, as he so desperately wanted to, when the angel finally eased back, separating the lips with a soft sound and settling flat on his feet again. And Crowley certainly didn't move his hands from where they were gripping the edge of the sideboard very tightly. No, he held onto his control, held on to the last pathetic dregs of his dignity, of not wanting to be hurt again by Aziraphale who possibly did not understand the implication of what he was doing, or worse, in case he was acting on impulse because of a guilty conscience.

The ending of the kiss left the atmosphere feeling tense and Crowley opened his eyes to half-mast only a moment before Aziraphale opened his as well, the angel looking up at him just as he was looking down. And nothing was said for several long seconds, until Crowley watched him wet his lips with a quick slip of his tongue along the seam and he had to look away, dropping his head back and humming gruffly, feeling provoked even though he knew it wasn't intended that way.

When Aziraphale started to say,

"Crowley-" he growled shortly to cut him off, lowering his head again and looking into those questioning, hopeful blue eyes only briefly before he dropped his gaze lower and asked,

"What are you doing, Aziraphale?" his words running together, mumbled, voice low and gravely with clear hints of his miserable confusion betraying the flat tone he'd been aiming for.

A small tug on his jacket made him raise his eyes again, to find Aziraphale looking at him intently, expression open and sincere and emotional when he answered,

"What I should I have done three years ago," he sighed out softly, making Crowley's lungs feel squeezed as he watched those blue eyes track over his own face before meeting his eyes again, and then with a watery smile the angel mumbled, "honestly though, your timing was not ideal."

"Yeah, alright." Crowley muttered, sounding choked as he looked away and made a face. But Aziraphale just tugged lightly again to get him to meet his eyes, which, after a stubborn glance at the wall and then the ceiling, Aziraphale patiently waiting and smiling fondly, Crowley did, and the angel continued with,
"But I know why you did it." then, more somberly, "Unfortunately, I only understood what you meant too late, and it all happened so quickly, the Metatron came back to the bookshop right after you left and-" he stopped himself, shook his head, "but I did understand, Crowley. You were desperate," Crowley felt sick hearing it voiced and he growled, bared his teeth, but Aziraphale tightened his grip, grounded his irritation, explained, "you needed to make me see what you wanted for us, how you felt about us," Aziraphale pressed on and pressed closer, leaned in, his smile so soft, "to make me see how you felt for me."

"Ang-nhg," he had to stop himself, his throat hurting, he tried again, "I- you, hn." but he bit down on any possible words, low key panicking, because he wanted, but he also feared, not sure what was hap-

"And not just emotionally," Aziraphale's tone was even softer, emotional, and when his grip loosened Crowley expected him to move away, but instead he felt those hands settle on his chest, which briefly arrested the gravity in his stomach, "but you meant it physically too." and then he was back to not breathing, brain buffering. And with no response forthcoming, Aziraphale started to look uncertain, "That- that was it, w-wasn't it?" Aziraphale's tone was questioning, nervousness playing over his features, "I, well, I hope I didn't m-misunderstand that as well." he frowned and Crowley frowned too, coming back online, "As it is, I don't have any sort of experience with this sort of thing..." the angel trailed off, finally breaking eye contact. And he sensed then that Aziraphale was about to step back, and even though a bitterly hurt part of Crowley wanted to let it happen, the desperately in love side of him overpowered it. "I sup-"

The angel cut himself off when Crowley caught his hands before he could lift them from his chest, his fingers encircling the heels of Aziraphale's slightly smaller hands, his thumbs settling into each of the angel's warm palms. A gentle hold, just to keep him from stepping away. He kept his gaze locked on Aziraphale's bright eyes then, rending his own self-defenses by admitting,

"You- you assumed right, Angel," and the nickname was intended that time, spoken as a personal endearment, as it had always been and like no time had passed at all, "I have," he paused, and then added a bit of heat to his voice when he continued with, "I've wanted for us to be more, to be everything to each other, together for eternity." And it felt magnetizing, how Aziraphale leaned closer, how he curled his fingers over Crowley's thumbs, how the lengths of their bodies were so close to being pressed together. He had to shatter the moment though, because despite not being sure what was happening, he was not about to let anything be unclear between them, not again. "But I'm not sure that you know what I mean by everything," Aziraphale's eyes lost some of their happy daze as he frowned again, "I'm not sure you know what you're suggesting." Crowley finished, raising an eyebrow, feeling tense, but also pathetically anticipating.

And he nearly laughed when Aziraphale gave him an 'are you daft?' look,

"I'll have you know that I know it perfectly well." he stated primly, and Crowley tilted his head curiously, "I may not have ever engaged in sexual activities," well, alright, he'd laid the cards quite plainly on the table, "but I do know more than enough about the subject. Far more that I'd signed up for in fact, with humans being as," he did his little scrunching nose thing and Crowley wanted to devour him, "creative and adventurous as they are about it in modern times, one can hardly stay ignorant to the various-..."

"Hmm." Crowley hummed as Aziraphale went on defending his knowledge about sex stuff, but he'd just received his confirmation from the angel, and the tension in his body was changing in nature as he was thinking; 'one fabulous kiss, and we're good'. He'd screwed it up last time, wrong timing and all that, but not this time. This time it'd be fantastic for sure.

"-many of the books these days actually contain very detailed descript- oh-"

"Yes, alright," Crowley mumbled, having stood up straight while holding Aziraphale's hands to keep him close, and without his usual relaxed posture, their actual height difference was far more noticeable, "I get it, I don't need the TED talk, Angel." he teased, smirking, but with his full focus on Aziraphale's lips. And before Aziraphale could say anything, his lips parting as if he might speak, Crowley brought a hand up to cup the line of the angel's jaw, where he pressed his thumb lightly against the underside of his chin to tip Aziraphale's head back, before leaning down to catch his open mouth in a very different kind of kiss than the first two they'd shared.

It was the kind that was open mouthed from the start, the kind where the slip of his tongue into that clever mouth was inevitable and languid and required just the right angle for him to taste Aziraphale's upper and lower lip in turns, with slow sensual sucks as he drew back. And, dear Satan, he'd be damned all over again if Aziraphale didn't taste just perfect...nothing specific he could name, no, nothing other than being the Taste of Aziraphale.

It seemed Aziraphale had stopped breathing that time, and Crowley smirked as he opened his eyes just a sliver, just enough to smugly take in the closed eyes, floating look on the angel's face. That look, and he hadn't even really begun. So brushing his nose against the fine point of Aziraphale's just because he could finally do that, he tilted his head again and leaned in for more. And if Aziraphale was going to stop him, Crowley assumed he'd already have done so, so he didn't hesitate to go right back in for a deeper taste, slipping his tongue more boldly passed those soft pink lips, his hand sliding to cup the back of Aziraphale's head, fingers threading into that soft hair, while he brought his other hand up to cradle the angel's face where he gently controlled the angle of the kiss and licked possessively into the angel's lovely mouth. And Aziraphale didn't even hesitate to part his mouth accommodatingly and press up into the kiss, returning it with explorative licks of his own tongue against Crowley's, his hands sliding down, lost fingers skimming over cotton and leather and fumbling for something to hold onto until they gripped the flanks of Crowley's waistcoat under his jacket.

Crowley kissed him, really kissed him, and kissed him and kept kissing him. Like he'd fantasized doing countless times over the millennia, in his sweetest and dirtiest and most secret imaginings, but had never believed would come true, not before, and definitely not after, Aziraphale had left him. But right then all the bad and the issues and the questions faded to white noise, because the only thing that mattered was that Aziraphale was with him, absolutely real and they were kissing, properly kissing, Crowley memorizing the taste of the angel as he worked their mouths together with slow parting and closing slides of their lips, between which he used rhythmic laps and skilled sucks of his tongue against and around Aziraphale's, thoroughly claiming his mouth. And he was losing himself to it, so caught up in having what he wanted that his demonic side momentarily came to the forefront of his desire, his tongue becoming forked and more sensitive, in order to really indulge himself in the taste and heat and feel of Aziraphale.

Aziraphale obviously noticed the change and liked it, because he was suddenly breathing in a rush, and pushing up onto his toes and pressing into the kiss a bit roughly, and he made a needy sound just then that would have made any demon worth their salt in sexual temptation feel extremely gratified. But all Crowley felt was awe and arousal and need, because this was not sexual temptation, this was his sexual desire rapidly rushing to the surface after years upon years of concealing his love for his Angel. And he was falling all over again, no other sight or sound or thought besides Aziraphale...Aziraphale, whose sweet, sweet mouth was addictive. And Crowley was swallowing every breath and sound he made, and running his teeth over those lips whenever he adjusted the angle of the kiss and having long, long ago made the effort to endow himself with a perfectly functioning cock, he was devastatingly hard in his leather pants.

Aziraphale must have noticed that too, because the moment their bodies were pressed together he gasped, but it sounded a bit startled and it shocked Crowley out of his high, which, well, he hadn't even realized he'd grabbed Aziraphale by the waist. Nor had Crowley consciously thought about it when he'd backed the angel up in the small space, so that Aziraphale was pressed against the opposite wall with his thigh very much between the angel's legs.

The kiss and all other movements stalled then, their swollen lips still touching when Crowley opened his eyes to find Aziraphale's still closed. The angel was leaning his head back against the wall, his soft panting breaths ghosting into Crowley's mouth, and the angel's hands were still tightly latched onto his waistcoat. It was a gorgeous sight to see him look so dazed and flushed...but the sound of that gasp, the familiar shaken heave of it, had triggered Crowley. Because it had been quite similar to three years ago, when Aziraphale had gasped the same way upon being released from Crowley kissing him for the first time, just a moment before Aziraphale had looked betrayed and had said 'I forgive you', as if Crowley had done something wrong. As always, the memory made his stomach turn over and Crowley's common sense started to filter back in, quickly followed by anger at himself for how quickly he'd been dragged under and carried away. He was too weak when it came to Aziraphale, too in love, it was too easy to slip. To be broken by this...

Clenching his teeth and swallowing sorely with how quickly the good feelings were souring, he made a growling noise before emphatically but quietly saying,

"You're the Supreme Archangel of Heaven." his lips barely an inch from Aziraphale's, and those blue eyes snapped open immediately to meet his own, "Why are you h- you shouldn't be here, you need to go back." Crowley said miserably, removing his hands out of Aziraphale's hair and off his face to press them to the wall either side of the angel's head. And with both hands planted flat on the concrete, he eased the pressure of his leg, intending to push himself to stand up straight, to move away, but Aziraphale said,

"What?" at the same time as he clenched his hands tighter, holding him in place, their mouths still close and their noses touching, "No, I don't-"

"Yes, you do!" he emphasized every word loudly, drawing his hands back suddenly in order to slap them against the wall, but Aziraphale didn't even flinch, he just said,

"Crowley." in that scolding deeper tone of his, looking adorably miffed and so prettily flushed and Crowley just became more furious at himself for wanting to give into whatever this was, knowing he'd likely just lose it again and be the one left in the cold when it inevitably ended. He didn't want that! So, he did his best to rally his anger, growling loudly and slamming his hands onto the wall again, glaring straight into Aziraphale's face and then pointedly saying,

"You do and you must-"

"No, why are you saying this now? I-"

"Because you chose it!" he grit out, right into Aziraphale's face. Of course, the angel didn't even blink his blue eyes, but his frown did crease into something more regretful and guilty and Crowley did not want to see him that way anymore. But he also hated to be pitied and he hated how weak he was, so he pushed, "You wanted back into Heaven and you got it, you chose it over me, over us, and I do not forgive you." he blatantly lied, because he was a demon and he did it well when he wanted to.

It was an absolute lie though, because there was no question that he forgave Aziraphale, because he loved him and wanted him to be happy. And if Heaven made him happiest, then that was where the angel needed to be...but that didn't mean Crowley needed to be faced with that loss twice!

His words struck a chord though, because Aziraphale's eyes were starting to shine wetly, and Crowley felt sick for causing it, and then he felt exposed, because he knew, more demonic or not, his eyes would give him away. So, he tried to pull away again but that time the angel brought one hand up to grip his shoulder, to stop him by clutching the material of his jacket. But before Crowley could even muster the energy to snap angrily or yank himself away, Aziraphale let his jacket go and instead cupped his jaw gently, the angel's thumb caressing his cheek, his hand shaking,

"Crowley, please," he breathed out, face so sad, "I know I owe you an explanation and I will explain, I'll explain everything, but us, this," Aziraphale pulled him closer with the hand gripping his waistcoat, and even more boldly the angel pressed down against his thigh, and damn it all, with that action as well as the angel's shakenly breathed words, he felt his resolve breaking. Aziraphale sounded to be genuinely pleading and, and he sounded heated and like he really wanted to be right where he was. And choosing that moment to read Aziraphale's aura, Crowley could immediately feel it too. It was real, Aziraphale's desire for him, the angel wanted him like he-, "I have spent the last three years trying not to be consumed by my thoughts, my f-fantasies of this." Aziraphale was saying, his face flushing redder than before, but a smile was playing on his lips, "Crowley," the angel said his name so adoringly just when he'd settled both of those warm hands on his face, "please, I want this - I want you."

"..." for Satan's sake, Crowley was not going to make it. He could not-

"I want you to show me this pleasure," Aziraphale literally sighed it out, hands splaying, sliding lower to cup the sides of his neck, "just as you've shown me other human pleasures in our considerable time together."

" ...!" for God's sake too, actually, for anyone's sake, for his own sak-,

"We know each other so well, emotionally, mentally, metaphysically, and I know the pleasure of your company in those aspects, and I've been so happy in every moment spent with you." Crowley swallowed sorely again, the influx of negative feelings failing pitifully to hold up his resolve against Aziraphale's simple words that were everything he'd ever wanted to hear. He could barely process it, "Now I want to know what physical pleasure with you would be like. Please. Please Crowley, please don't push me away."

Oh, fucking Hell.

Fuck fucking Hell and all its nine fucking circles and all its fucking sub-branches and pop-up branches!

How was this even real? How was Aziraphale turning his brain to soup and his body into a furnace. Wasn't he supposed to be the demon? The one who knew just what to say to tempt?

But then...it couldn't be temptation, Aziraphale would never. Not that. Never that. So, maybe it was mutual desire, maybe Aziraphale had come to him because his desire was the same. Maybe that shitty kiss had awoken his curiosity, and now he wanted and he was there to succumb. There was a dirty joke Crowley could make there, if only to amuse himself, but he was too busy getting utterly and totally fucked up on the sincere and unconditional desire his lovely, perfect Aziraphale, yes, his, his Angel, was presenting to him. His Angel who'd come to Earth to ask him ever so nicely to know him biblically.

And he'd only been lying to himself to think he would be able to deny Aziraphale, because he couldn't deny Aziraphale anything, ever, not for millennia already. No matter what he'd said 'no' to in their past before storming off, no matter what he'd pretended to lie about, hadn't he always gone back, always given in? No matter how much it left him hurting. So now, even if it happened again for the next howeverlong after Aziraphale left him to go back to Heaven, he was going to give in anyway. And he would have to deal with the painful emotional consequences on his own, which was fine because he was used to facing the consequences of his choices and actions. Ever since being cast out of Heaven that had been at the core of his existence as a demon...but what about consequences for Aziraphale? Could the angel really have sex with him and bear no fallout?

Crowley could accept consequences for himself, but he couldn't accept being a part of that happening to his Angel.

His silence seemed to prompt the angel into action, Aziraphale leaning in with some uncertainty to kiss his mouth softly, their reddened lips sticking as he drew back and quietly breathed out,

"Crowley?" who'd just thought through a fuck ton of things within a few long seconds. But now that saying no was no longer one of his thoughts, now that he'd accepted that they both wanted each other in that way, the only concerning thing was whether Aziraphale was prepared for what might follow regarding his boss. Crowley sighed out a slow breath then, before he rebalanced his weight onto his feet, standing up properly so he could take a hold of the angel's waist beneath his coat, pulling him to stand up as well as he looked seriously at him and asked,

"You're certain you won't fall for this?" and then he upped the ante, pulling Aziraphale forward to press their bodies together again, to hear the angel's breath catch and feel those hands grip his shoulders like a lifeline, "They let it slide with Gabriel," he was speaking in a low voice, their habitual human breaths mingling for how close they still were, "but won't the Metatron be forced to make a lasting example of a third Supreme Archangel defying the will of God?" he said with exaggerated enunciation.

Aziraphale smiled then, in that way he did when he was feeling particularly clever and rebellious,

"That would be his own fault for appointing me, no?" he said playfully, his fingers relaxing and patting a single rhythm on Crowley's shoulders, "After all, he knew full well when he offered me the job that I had a prior arrangement with The Demon Crowley." he said it with a deeper voice and like it was a title of some kind, his expression and voice becoming more amused as he went on, "I say, he really might've considered all the risks in employing me in that position to begin with." he glanced up pointedly, "They do, after all, have a history which suggests there's a bit of an institutional problem." Oh ho! Yes! Aziraphale had watched the trial! Crowley couldn't have controlled his own resulting grin even if he'd wanted to, but it was all teeth because Sat-, ugh, fuck's sake, he was so in love with his Angel, and there was no changing that, not even for all eternity.

"You really are just the right amount of a bastard, Angel." he said with so much fondness and emotion his throat hurt. And then he felt so much fondness his eyes became wet when Aziraphale sweetly asked,

"Would it be just the right amount for you?"

Crowley answered him with a kiss, starting with an initial pressing suck to his lips before he parted Aziraphale's mouth with his tongue and went straight into a no hesitation, all eagerness and heat sort of kiss. He greedily swallowed the noise of delighted surprise Aziraphale made, and then he swallowed the next sound of aroused surprise as well, the one the angel made when Crowley pressed him bodily up against the wall and smoothly slipped his leg back between the angel's thighs. Then taking full advantage of the fact they didn't actually need to breathe, Crowley kissed Aziraphale unendingly, every slip of his tongue and slide of their lips laden with sensual and sexual intent.

It had Aziraphale responding eagerly, kissing back enthusiastically as his hands skimmed and gripped the planes and creases of Crowley's clothed torso, moving down first, over his chest and sides, then back up to his shoulders and down again, onto his arms where he gripped tightly for leverage. And to Crowley the angel's own 'effort' had become plainly noticeable since he was pressed firmly up against him, their hips more or less lined up, and Aziraphale pressing down onto his thigh for friction...

---

Aziraphale had never thought it possible to feel like he was flying or levitating while his feet were both planted firmly on the ground, but being kissed by Crowley, properly kissed by him, seemed to lessen the strength of gravity around him, making his limbs and his stomach feel weightless, and every inhalation of oxygen feel thinner, his head spinning, dizzying and light, his heart rabbiting and his blood rushing, all in the most unbelievably pleasant ways.

The first time Crowley had kissed him that day in the bookshop, the first time he'd ever been kissed actually, it had felt like a shock to his system. Like he'd run into a wall of emotion too high and wide and dense to easily get through or over, nor did he have the time or presence of mind to try then, and so he'd just felt torn, scared and angry and confused. But this, this time, these kisses they were sharing, felt almost overwhelmingly amazing. They were also very stimulating in a very specific way and to a very specific place, which in all the years since he'd chosen to have it, Aziraphale had considered to be nothing more than an anatomically correct decoration to his human body rather than an actual functional or useable appendage.

But pressed as it currently was, against the firmness of Crowley's thigh positioned between his legs, and with the increasing warmth between their human bodies, his penis was proving to be very functional indeed. Especially since the blood rushing to it in pleasurable pulses had filled it out to hardness, obviously responding eagerly to every way and place he and Crowley were touching, and also responding to how excited he got at feeling Crowley's own fully functional penis pressing against his lower stomach. Aziraphale had wondered what it might feel like, but to be experiencing it was so much better, far better than anything his limited imagination –on the topic of sex- had been able to conjure up in the last three years.

For one, he'd been unable to imagine how hot and shaky he would feel all over, in his stomach and limbs and lungs. And he certainly hadn't been able to imagine how Crowley would taste, which he was now discovering that underneath the recent flavour of whiskey, there was an unnamable sapidity to him, and it was accompanied by a stinging heat that was possibly a little demonic in nature. But it didn't burn in any way, or at least not in any bad way. Certainly not, not even when Crowley's tongue changed. Aziraphale felt like he couldn't get enough of that, of any of it, he just wanted more. He loved the feeling of Crowley's hands heavy on his hips, and of Crowley kissing him hungrily. Knowing Crowley barely bothered to consume anything besides beverages most of the time, the ravenous nature of his kisses was heady and very tantalizing. He'd already decided that he wanted to be able to kiss Crowley for the rest of his existence if he could...however long that may or may not be.

Aziraphale did not want to be thinking about the 'other pressing matters' they had to discuss regarding the uncertainty of the future right then, so he pushed those dreadful thoughts away, which was so much easier to do when Crowley was there to focus on. He'd truly missed him so, so much. And he felt the need to say so exactly in that moment, so even though it was so hard to turn his head out of the kiss, he did, just enough to attempt to speak, starting to say,

"Crow- Crowley, ah...hmmm," only to be completely distracted by the demon's literally sinful mouth trailing a forked tongue and tingle inducing kisses along his jaw line and to his earlobe, which was caught between Crowley's teeth briefly, before he was asking in that tempting lilt of his,
"Bedroom, Angel?"

Those words with that gravelly tone of sensuality, and the feeling of heated breath on his surprisingly sensitive human ear, along with Crowley's lean body pressed all along his front, the leg applying light pressure between his own, it all had Aziraphale reeling and stalling to speak in favour of sighing ardently, his hands flexing on Crowley's arms.

"Aziraphale?" Crowley prompted, voice playfully questioning, speaking against his cheek while also pressing his leg up and sliding his hands down and Aziraphale was experiencing such a rush of new sensations and emotions in his human body, that even when he tried to speak again, saying,

"Crowley, I- I..." he realized he'd forgotten what he'd wanted to say, and-

"Is it too much?" Crowley asked then, tone changed completely, voice soft with a hint of concern and when the demon sadly mumbled, "Going too fast for you again, Angel?" Aziraphale immediately shook his head, but Crowley was already continuing with, "If you're not sure it's okay, we can stop." Aziraphale sighed in frustration at himself then and moved his hands to settle on either side of Crowley's neck, urging Crowley's head back so they could look at each other in the eye, even as the demon was saying, "I won't risk you falling, Aziraphale, I'd never want that to hap-"

"I won't fall." he said emphatically, looking into those stunning yellow, elliptical eyes as he stubbornly added, "and I wouldn't care if I did."

"Azirapha -"

"Because," he steamrolled over Crowley's louder tone with his own, "nothing I feel for you is unholy! She'd be wrong to cast me out for this, just as She was wrong to have ever cast you out!" he said more emotionally than he'd realized he was still feeling about that particular revelation, his breaths shaking out of him in the wake of his dangerous words. Crowley looked stunned too and there was a moment where they just stared at each other, waiting for...well, something to happen.

When a minute passed and it seemed unlikely that the ground was about to open up and yank Aziraphale down to Hell, Crowley relaxed so that his prettily glowing heated gaze was half-lidded again and he raised his eyebrows and smirked,

"Have I ever told you that it's adorable when you blaspheme?"

And Aziraphale wanted to roll his eyes at Crowley for making it into a joke, for teasing him about it, but he only managed a brief glare before he smiled lovingly and asked,

"Do believe me now?" shifting his hands on Crowley's neck, enjoying the heat of his skin, "I'm not doing anything wrong. This," he glanced between them, "it's not wrong, because I'm in love with you, Crowley." he breathed out, specifically wording it that way so the demon would understand it was not the same as loving everything in general as an angel did. He wanted it to be totally clear, and he knew he'd managed it as he watched Crowley absorb his confession, watched his throat work around a swallow, heard it click, watched his lovely eyes tear up a bit, felt his large hands flex just so where they were settled low on his back. He was obviously very affected, but in a way that was very Crowley, the demon tried to play it cool, mumbling,
"Risky business, that pure love bit, lot'sa loopholes..." but he was softly smiling and leaning closer and then their twin smiles were meeting in another kiss.

And the kiss went on for a long while, Aziraphale having absolutely no complaints. In fact he felt like he was quite getting the hang of it, of how to meet the pace and pressure of Crowley's mouth, how to match the slide of his lips and the smooth changing angles of the kiss. Aziraphale was learning and enjoying all the dips, twists, presses and changes between their mingling tongues. And also discovering just when to push back, to assert himself into the kiss, but more importantly, when to pliantly allow Crowley to take his mouth as he wanted, with a sensual aggressiveness that was quickly becoming Aziraphale's favourite kind of kissing. It was glorious and most intoxicating, and it was doing things to his body that felt ever so delightful. Yes, he certainly wanted to continue kissing, but hadn't Crowley mentioned the bedroom before? Kissing could just as well be done in there!

So, he drew back from the kiss, with more success that time since he had his hands on Crowley's neck to aid him in holding the demon's hungry mouth at bay so he could speak, but he was ever so pleased when Crowley trailed after him with a humming growl, lightly straining against his hands. That was certainly something he liked as well! It also bolstered his confidence in this wholly unfamiliar matter of physical love and he said,

"I believe you mentioned your bedroom before." and he felt quite chuffed with the suggestive tone of his voice, especially since it had an immediate effect on Crowley, whose low-lidded eyes shone a more vibrant yellow. And when Crowley suddenly grabbed his hand tightly and turned to tug him along, Aziraphale went with zero resistance, the pair walking out of the bar alcove, across the sitting room through the rotating door and into the atrium of the flat. Which was also the area where all of Crowley's plants were kept and was just outside of the sliding glass door entrance to the demon's large bedroom.

Aziraphale had been in Crowley's flat a mere handful of times in all the years since he'd inhabited it, and the closest he'd ever come to the bedroom had also been the longest night he'd ever been in the flat; the night he'd stayed there after the failed first Armageddon. And he certainly hadn't stepped foot in it, only walked by it, barely looked into it despite the glass doors always being left wide open. He never slept in general though, but that night Crowley hadn't slept either, they'd stayed up and discussed their body swapping plan and come morning they'd exchanged forms and headed out separately, all business. But now he was being led into Crowley's bedroom intentionally and with purpose, which was exhilarating, and it made him feel like he was finally allowed to look around and familiarize himself with the space.

They came to a stop inside the room and after giving him a heated look, Crowley released his hand and walked away, leaving him standing more or less in the middle of the bedroom, not far from the foot of the large low-rise platform bed, which was made up with all black bedding that caught the low warm lighting of the room in the way that only something reflective could. Aziraphale guessed it was likely silk. The bed also had a high-back cushioned headboard and was full of excess pillows, and the picture it made was decadent and inviting, both amusing and arousing him enough to shiver at the thought of sharing that bed with Crowley.

He heard the glass doors being slid closed, but Aziraphale didn't look, allowing his anticipation to build as he took in the rest of the sparsely furnished, low lit room. There was a single, plush antique chair in one corner beside a slim full-length mirror leaning against the wall, and along the same wall was a built-in sliding door wardrobe. In the two corners either side of the bed, were large ornate floor lamps that gave the illusion of holding fire and he'd also seen a decorative table with a snake centerpiece next to an ensuite door when they'd walked in. The décor was very suitable for Crowley; the minimal furniture and excess of space still feeling intimate because of the industrial grey walls and lower ceilings, which made the room feel smaller than it was. Made it feel warmer too, and of course, it smelled like Crowl-!

"Trapped in my evil lair, Angel." Crowley had suddenly come up right behind him, the heat of his human body amplified in the warm room, his breath, low gravely tone and a flick of his tongue once again teasing at Aziraphale's sensitive ear as the demon's hands settled on his hips. And yes, Crowley's every action made him shiver with desire, his eyes fluttering, but Aziraphale was not even remotely wary of Crowley being anything close to evil.

So, with his voice breathy and affected but fond, he matter-of-factly said,

"Utter piffle. You're about as evil as a fussy house cat who scratches up all the furniture and expects to be rewarded afterward for your efforts."

Crowley stopped breathing for a moment, lips still against his ear, then he huffed out a put upon breath and Aziraphale felt Crowley smiling when he mumbled,

"Nobody says things like utter piffle." in a playfully mocking voice. Aziraphale just leaned back against him, turning his head to look at Crowley over his shoulder when he said,

"I do." and then he added, "And I'm not trapped. I absolutely want to be here," he smiled with all the love he felt for Crowley, "with you."

Crowley tried very hard to stay cool just then, but Aziraphale could see the telltale signs of stifled emotion in the sharp rise of one eyebrow and the twitching around his mouth. After a moment it passed though, and then a slow grin spread on Crowley's face, all teeth and mischief and despite not being evil, when he grinned like that, and with his eyes glowing so mesmerizingly in the low lighting, he certainly did look like the very demon that he was. And Aziraphale would be lying if he claimed he wasn't as attracted to that side of Crowley as much as every other facet of him.

From that new angle, Crowley leaned down to kiss him once, the slow sucking lip to lip kiss Aziraphale was already addicted to, before drawing back right after. And Aziraphale had barely opened his eyes when he felt Crowley's fingers curling into the sides of his coat and easing it back, wanting to take it off.

"May I?" he asked, sounding quite like he was either teasing or tempting, perhaps a bit of both, but only because he knew Aziraphale wanted it. He could probably even sense it, taste it in the air or something, being a demon and all. And Aziraphale didn't pretend otherwise, allowing and accommodating the follow through of Crowley removing his coat, which he heard rather than saw being tossed aside, perhaps to land on the chair. Aziraphale didn't honestly care, not when Crowley's hands were back, the demon's arms encircling him again as he conveniently miracled all the buttons on Aziraphale's waistcoat to unfasten with upward trailing fingers, before proceeding to remove it as well.

Aziraphale was finding the process of undressing to be very enticing, his breathing escalating and body heating with slow waves of arousal, another wave occurring when Crowley's arms returned, that time his hands tugging the bowtie loose at the same time as the demon pressed a kiss right against the side of his neck. And after pulling the starchy tartan material out of his collar, Crowley dropped it to the floor carelessly...and Aziraphale couldn't wait any longer!

He turned around quickly and took ahold of Crowley's handsome face, pulling him down into the kiss he felt he so desperately needed right then, and following what he'd very recently learned, he parted his lips against Crowley's mouth and offered the demon his tongue, seeking a deeper kiss. Crowley didn't hesitate to open to him, their mouths syncing up so perfectly it was as if it were second nature for them to kiss each other. He lamented the fact they hadn't been doing this for many, many years before, for millennia. But the past didn't matter, because they were together right then, and the kiss was just what Aziraphale had wanted; it was intense and heated and deep, affecting them both into uneven breathing despite neither of them needing air.

There was no more talking for a long while, just the sounds of their breathing and their mouths moving together as Aziraphale lost himself to Crowley's talented kissing, and Crowley's wandering hands, which were sliding and groping over and along his back, then his sides and his hips and over his backside. Aziraphale was unashamed of the way he shivered pleasantly under the touches, and he was unashamed of the soft sounds he couldn't help making to express his pleasure, because the new sensations all felt so amazing, and Crowley touching him felt so right. And touching Crowley felt right too, which was why he slid his own hands up to the back of Crowley's head and as he'd so often dreamed of doing, Aziraphale threaded his fingers through the demon's rich red hair, discovering with a soft hum into the kiss how very silky it felt sliding between his fingers.

A break in the kiss came when Crowley withdrew his exploring hands to reach up and remove his jacket, but Aziraphale wasn't about to allow it. He quickly slid his own hands under the shoulders of the jacket, drawing back from the kiss to breathe out,

"Let me, please." causing Crowley to pause, the demon looking down at him with molten heat in those eyes as he pushed the jacket back and off, "I'd quite like to have the experience of taking your clothes off." in that context obviously, since that time in Hell when he'd partially undressed Crowley's body, it had been a rather stressful and clinical scenario, and rightfully so.

This moment however, the action of undressing his lover, his Crowley, he wanted to savour it.

Crowley said nothing, he just raised his eyebrows and made the expression Aziraphale found synonymous with 'yeah, alright', and then he was being kissed again, and he met Crowley's mouth eagerly, even as he focused as much as he could on pushing the jacket down and off Crowley's arms, the demon accommodating his actions. It continued that way as they kissed, Aziraphale unbuttoning Crowley's leather waistcoat next, one button at a time with his fingers, no miracles, before that too was pushed back, shrugged off and left to fall on the floor. He didn't have the patience to unknot the silver scarf Crowley wore though, not when he was feeling a heated urgency simmering inside his body, in his face, chest and stomach and lower still, in his pelvis, between his thighs.

He wanted more, he wanted it faster.

So Aziraphale quickly broke the kiss to pull the scarf up over Crowley's head, tossing it aside carelessly. And as if Crowley was feeling the very same way, when they started kissing again it was more urgent and aggressive, with Crowley taking over the kiss and dominating his mouth in that way that made Aziraphale feel incredibly dizzy and pleasantly shaken. They were moving then too, Crowley was turning them, moving them toward the foot of the bed. And his own steps were a little clumsier, since he was being guided backwards as well as being distracted by hot hands on his sides, tugging at his shirt ends, pulling it up and out of where it had been tucked into his trousers.

When the backs of his legs hit the platform at the foot of the bed, the kiss severed and Aziraphale held onto Crowley's shoulders as he sat down, Crowley's hands on his hips having guided him to do so. And Crowley followed him down, but he didn't get on the bed, instead he lowered himself to crouching with one knee on the ground, right there in front of Aziraphale. From that angle, the demon had to look up at him, and staring down into Crowley's eyes, Aziraphale immediately felt like their position was putting him on edge. He wasn't sure whether it was due to the nature of their echelons as angel and demon that he disliked the implication of any disparity between them. Or...maybe it was because Aziraphale knew full well the only being who was meant to be worshipped was supposed to be God, yet the look that Crowley was giving him right then was definitely in line with that level of reverence and exaltation.

He was aware that he was probably being silly and overthinking things, but Aziraphale still wanted to tell Crowley to get up. But just when he gripped the material of Crowley's Henley under his hands, about to speak, the demon distracted him with two hot hands settling on his knees, asking,

"Is your human body complete, Angel?" those hands inching slowly up over the tops of his thighs, "I mean, anatomically, is everything accounted for and functional?" and his voice was still so low and sexy, even asking such a question.

Aziraphale automatically glanced down between his legs, to where his very functional penis was creating a prominent outline in his trousers. And of course, Crowley noticed and he grinned, saying,

"Oh, not that, no problem here." sounding sexy and teasing, sliding one hand all the way up between his legs to palm the bulge,

"Oh'mm... m-my, Crowley, that's..." Aziraphale was still gripping Crowley's shoulders with one hand, but he had to lean back on the other as he tilted his hips up into the touch. He was totally caught off guard by how the slow palming friction of Crowley's hand over his clothed erection made his body light up with pleasure. Crowley kept palming him, even as he suggestively explained,

"Sex requires all the parts, Angel." he squeezed just so, making Aziraphale's senses buzz and his fingers tingle as he felt himself getting harder still. "For the experience to be all that it can be," Crowley's voice rumbled low as he brought his other hand to trail his fingers up over the fastenings of his trousers, undoing them, and then with a flick of his index finger, all of Aziraphale's shirt buttons opened as well, "for it to be really, properly fantastic." he finished.

Aziraphale didn't have the words at that moment to verbally respond, but yes, that made sense actually. He knew enough about sex in theory to know it was a sort of whole-body experience. And yes, his body was complete. As it were, he didn't generally use all the parts and functions, but he had them all.

Looking at Crowley's handsomely smirking face, he only managed to nod, since he was still rather distracted by Crowley's sinful hands. One was still stroking him and the other, which had slid further up to part one side of his shirt, was presently settled and splayed hot, so hot, on the bare skin of his stomach. Skin to skin. Aziraphale was not used to that sort of skin to skin to contact at all, and before Crowley, he'd never wanted such a thing, so having that touch from Crowley and knowing there was more to come was overwhelming on every sensory and arousing level.

If Crowley noticed his accelerated breathing and subtle trembling, he seemed to correctly interpret the reactions as positive, because the demon shifted to both knees and leaned up and over him to initiate a kiss. Aziraphale couldn't help the small whimper he made when Crowley kissed him just then, when he felt so sensitive, so much so that the kiss sent a tight shock of arousal throughout his body. He wanted to kiss more and more, so he pressed into it, pushing himself to sit up again just when both of Crowley's hands caressed up over his torso to slip under his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders.

Aziraphale fell into a natural synchrony of reactions; kissing Crowley back while shifting to accommodate his shirt being removed, then tipping his head back when the demon drew away from his mouth to suck kisses down over his chin, jaw and along his throat and clavicle. Aziraphale was floating, dazedly blinking his eyes up at the shadowy ceiling, unconsciously encouraging Crowley with his breathy sounds and once again threading his fingers into the demon's silky hair, which he lightly gripped when Crowley tongued one of his nipples. He thought he might have said Crowley's name, but it was lost to another sound when the demon gently scraped blunt fingernails down over his sides and around to his lower back, where Crowley splayed his hands out to hold him steady just when he surged up to claim his mouth again.

Aziraphale was lightheaded and aroused to the point of being incoherent to anything but Crowley's touch, so when Crowley kissed him, he was content to part his lips and let Crowley have at him for all he was worth. But Crowley drew back from the kiss much sooner than expected, leaning one hand beside his hip on the mattress and commenting,

"I always thought you'd veto the body hair." as the demon's other hand slid up to gently play with the fair curls on his chest. Aziraphale's faculties were not totally up and running just then, his mind being so foggy with arousal. But even as he frowned, he did his best to respond, mumbling out,

"Came stock with the, uh, um, the..." he was looking at Crowley's smirking red mouth, fingers playing with his equally red hair, "the in-initial request for a, for a male human form." he looked into Crowley's lovely eyes and then shook his head with a small dazed smile, "I never thought to change it." he admitted. Crowley just hummed in response before dipping his head, Aziraphale sighing as kisses were pressed to his chest.

The short break had cleared up his focus somewhat, of course, the entirety of it was still on Crowley, but it was expanding and now he was starting to think about Crowley's body; specifically about undressing Crowley's body. Aziraphale felt a rush of impatience then, wanting to see more, and even though he was enjoying Crowley mouthing as his chest and throat, he pushed the demon back by his shoulders, his hands gripping handfuls of the Henley shirt. But instead of saying 'take your shirt off', his uncoordinated mind provided,

"You have body hair too." because Aziraphale was looking at the open buttons of the shirt the demon was currently wearing, which, like almost all of Crowley's modern shirt choices, revealed his chest hair. And he also remembered Crowley's body that day in Hell, there'd been leg hair and arm hair.

Crowley paused at his comment, just kneeling there and looking at him for a long moment, and then he seemed to blink himself out of it, smirking and facially shrugging, saying,

"I do," then adding in a mumble, "I haven't always done, though." as he slid his hand down, maintaining eye contact but distracting Aziraphale with a caressing touch over his soft middle, into the dip of his navel, then back up to tease his nipple. "And I do mean in this form." Crowley kept talking, voice low but casual, as if he wasn't responsible for Aziraphale's accelerated breathing and newly flushing face, "Body hair wasn't exactly popular in Roman times, member'?" he finished with a questioning lilt and knowing smirk, his long fingers trailing down again, skimming the opened fly of Aziraphale's trousers.

Aziraphale just nodded absently, because he did remember that, but he'd still kept his body hair. He wasn't one for changing his form, not unless he deemed it necessary. He quite liked certain things just the way they wer-

Crowley stopped touching him quite suddenly and his hands fell from Crowley's shoulders when he balanced on his knees, Aziraphale watching with soft dazed breaths as the demon reached up and back to pull his shirt over his head, further mussing his already tousled hair. And, torso confidently bared, Crowley just tossed the shirt aside, while at the same time Aziraphale couldn't help but bring his hands back to touch, to feel Crowley's warm skin under his palms. He firmly slid his hands from Crowley's broad shoulders downward to splay over the tidy smattering of dark hair on the demon's firm chest. The hair felt surprisingly sof-

"Is it alright, Angel?" Crowley asked, and it sounded like an actual question that time, not teasing or playful, which made Aziraphale look at him with a confused frown. Crowley leaned forward then, weight pressing against his hands so that the demon could place his own on the mattress, bracketing Aziraphale's hips and bringing their faces much closer to softly clarify, "Are you alright with this form?"

Still, despite the clear question, it actually took Aziraphale a moment to realize what Crowley was asking him, or perhaps offering, and when it sunk in, he kept frowning, because what Crowley was suggesting had never even crossed his mind...but he supposed Crowley was just trying to be accommodating in all aspects, which was thoughtful, but in that regard, entirely unnecessary.

So, sighing softly and shakenly, Aziraphale stopped frowning and he looked over Crowley's face lovingly as he started to trail his fingers down from the demon's chest, over the finely muscled plane of Crowley's stomach, stopping just above the snakehead buckle of his belt. He dropped his eyes then, and seeing the obvious outline of Crowley's sex inside those tight pants had him exhaling another shaken breath. It also made him feel even more confident to look into Crowley's half-lidded eyes again and say,

"Quite so. Just as you are." and he meant it.

And not just on the basis of Crowley having an attractive form by general human standards, but to him personally, based on his own affection and attraction. From before and after they'd kissed three years earlier, all of Aziraphale's thoughts and feelings and fondness, his hopes, desires, his adoration and his love, all of his fantasies, both chaste, and later, not so much, everything he'd ever felt, had been for this Crowley. This was the form he was most familiar with after all, the form he knew so well and had fallen in lov-

"Hmm, great. S'long as you're comfortable, we're good to go." Crowley was saying, leaning in again, kissing him again. And his hands settling over Aziraphale's was unexpected, and then quickly became exciting as Crowley guided his fingers through the motions of opening his belt, the clinking of the pin and buckle quite loud with the only other sounds being their breathing and kissing. Once it was undone, Crowley left his hands there to continue to unfasten the fly of the leather pants by himself, while the demon's hands returned to settle on his thighs, squeezing and sliding up and up and slowly inward...and Aziraphale was so close to giving over to pleasurable incoherence again, but Crowley's last words had struck a chord of memories, and now they were repeating in his head, the voices tripping him up with;

'Report back to service and...lose the gut.'

'I'm a little bemused as to why Crowley should risk destruction for you, you don't seem his type at all.'

'Do you need more big human meals, Aziraphale?'

'So, it is a diet, then? I'm pretty sure he liked you just the way you were.'

Aziraphale hadn't thought about that particular subject at any great length, but it'd come up a few times throughout his stay on Earth, so he'd always been aware that his human body was not exactly up to the best of 'aesthetic' standards set by the average human, especially in modern times. The more recent mentions of it though, by Gabriel, and then by Shax, those comments were a little more difficult to shake. And even though Nina's comment hadn't been mocking, rather, it had been encouraging, it'd also been so directly related to Crowley's possible opinion of his human body, that he'd felt self-conscious. And right then he felt self-conscious again, because he and Crowley were about to have sex with their human bodies, and he wondered whether Crowley really was fine with how he looked!?

He was thinking about all that in a fluctuating haze of pleasure and uncertainty, distracted by Crowley's kisses and touches but equally distracted by his budding concerns. He was even fumbling with his fingers to draw down the small hidden zipper of the leather pants, to part the flies...and well, okay, there was no missing the prominent erection his knuckles were brushing against beneath the cotton of Crowley's underwear. Surely that was all the answer necessary? Crowley was plainly aroused, and there was nothing but absolute desire in every kiss and every touch, as if Crowley couldn't get enough, as if he wanted to keep touching Aziraphale's body, just as it was. Yes, it seemed he had nothing to feel insecure about...but even though Crowley's actions all pointed to positives, Aziraphale thought it would be best to check, just as Crowley had checked with him.

He didn't get a chance to speak for a further minute though, being kissed quite thoroughly and then even gasping into the kiss when Crowley roughly groped him, high up along the underside of his thighs, somewhat unbalancing him where he sat. But then Crowley suddenly drew back from the kiss, growling out what sounded like a swear word as he got to his feet. Aziraphale was breathing heavily and still recovering from the latest rush of arousal thrumming through him, but he hadn't forgotten what was on his mind and he seized the opportunity of his mouth being available to speak, half mumbling out,

"Crowley, a-are you c-comfor-" oh, "- a-ble with, my body?" his question broke off right when he'd focused on Crowley, who was divesting himself of his tight pants, sliding them over his hips and down his thighs at the same time as he maneuvered his feet out of his shoes. It all happened very quickly and once he was done, pants and shoes untidily kicked aside, Crowley was left standing before him in just his tight black boxer-briefs, similar to the ones Aziraphale recalled from that day in Hell, except now with the addition of a clearly outlined and sizeable erection straining the cotton. His long bare legs were also on display without his pants on, and that added to the niggling concerns he had, because he did not look like Crowl-

"Comfort- wot?" Aziraphale briefly glanced up at Crowley's frowning face, "What are you talking- wait, your body? Aziraphale." his name was said quite firmly, and Aziraphale, having said 'body' and not 'form' felt caught out and kept his eyes down. But Crowley caught his chin and tilted his head back, so he was no longer staring at the faint line of dark hair trailing from the demon's navel beneath the very low waistline of his underwear, "Are you really asking me what I think you're asking me?"

Aziraphale just blinked up at him, trying to look apologetic for his stupid question –yes, he'd known it was stupid- but he was quickly taken in by Crowley's eyes right then. He'd already noticed that Crowley's eyes were more demonic than they'd been the last time they'd seen each other, with how the sclera of the human eye was much less visible and his irises were so vibrantly yellow. But probably due to his sudden mood change, his elliptical pupils were narrower than they'd been a moment before, the dilation from the low light in the room overtaken by his incredulity. His gaze was no less heated though, his eyes no less beautiful, and Aziraphale only wished he hadn't caused the irritation he could see etched into Crowley's expressive brow...

"Angel," Crowley frowned deeper, "you don't really think that, do you?"

Aziraphale blinked primly then, averting his gaze and fidgeting his hands between his clothed thighs,

"Well, no, but," he supposed he might as well just say it, "I am aware of the varied ideas of what is attractive in terms of human bodies," he glanced at Crowley, who was still holding his chin, "and so I am also very aware that your body type," he paused, glancing at the demon's near naked body, "does not generally find my body type appeali-"

"AAAAARRRRRGGGG." Crowley growled in his usual way, loudly and baring his teeth and throwing his head back in dramatic irritation. And even though he'd moved his hand when he stood up straight, Aziraphale remained looking up at him with round eyes and pursed lips, feeling bad and trying to think of something to say to move past how he'd seemingly ruined the mood. He didn't get the chance to though, because Crowley swooped down into his face seconds later, the action making Aziraphale lean back on his hands on the mattress with the demon's arms bracketing him as he hovered over him. And with their faces inches apart, Crowley hissed out, "I don't know where or from who you got that idea," Aziraphale resolved right then not to mention Shax, because Crowley sounded to be on the dangerous side of angry in his emphasis of 'who' and he actually felt concerned for the other demon's well-being, as paradoxical as it wa- "-but fuck whatever it is you've been thinking, because. You. Are. Perfect." Aziraphale blinked a few times in surprise, eyes focused on Crowley's as he felt his face heat up. And Crowley easily brought the mood back, simply by fleetingly licking the seam of his lips and pitching his voice low in a very sexy way when he said, "I want you, Aziraphale, your body and your form, just as you are." repeating his own words back to him before slowly smirking. And Aziraphale couldn't help smiling back, positively beaming actually, as he felt weightless all of a sudden. He felt so happy.

"Then we certainly are good to go." he said quietly, doing likewise with Crowley's words, and after a brief moment of intense eye contact, their gazes lowered and their smiles faded and Aziraphale wasn't sure which of them leaned in first or who initiated the kiss that followed, but it was really just lovely with how it started slow and sweet and ended up deep and wide and wet.

Kissing Crowley was such a lovely thing, and Crowley was so good at it and Aziraphale's mind had started to get foggy again with heat and hormones and arousal, so it was hard to keep track of everything, but he'd closed his eyes at some point, and he'd laid back as well...one hand was in Crowley's hair again, the other on his back, the skin there was warm and damp and smooth. He was very aware of and sensitive to Crowley's presence above him, and of Crowley's touch, the demon's hands on his hips, tightly gripping the waistline of his pants to slide and tug them down, removing them. His underwear followed next and Aziraphale trembled at those hot hands on his naked legs, on his naked body. He was totally naked and Crowley just kept right on touching him in the best ways and in so many unexpectedly erogenous places, lighting up Aziraphale's senses, both human and angelic. But Crowley never strayed too far or for too long from kissing him, the demon making sure to keep his mouth plenty occupied, his lips swollen, his breaths shallow, swallowing the noises Aziraphale didn't have any inclination to hold back. Especially not when Crowley's hands settled and flexed on his thighs, slid behind his knees, lifted his legs, parted them...

He got lost in sensation for a while, barely able to keep his eyes open, and even when he managed to, everything besides Crowley seemed unfocused in the dark and shadowy warm tones of the room. They'd moved though, there'd been some shuffling and sliding and the feeling of Crowley's body between his thighs, their stomachs touching, shaking hands reaching and confident hands guiding, legs and arms entangling, skin slipping. And he'd ended up higher on the bed, his head cushioned by pillows, body fully supine and with his legs spread and drawn up either side of Crowley's naked hips. Ah, yes, they were both finally totally naked. Even his shoes and socks were gone, he realized it when he curled his toes into the silk bed cover, which clung to his back as he arched up into Crowley's mouth hotly covering his nipple. Perhaps Crowley had done a discreet miracle, or maybe their remaining clothes had been manually removed, but whatever it was, Aziraphale hadn't noticed, didn't care. Because finally, they were completely skin to skin, and it was beautiful, the sensation of being like that with Crowley was so amazing and unlike anything he'd been able imagine. Their bodies slid against each other smoothly as they kissed and touched, and in some other places there was pleasant friction, and there was stickiness as well. And the real smell of Crowley, usually masked by rich cologne, Aziraphale could now smell beneath it, the smell of the demon in human's skin. And he was deeply inhaling the supernatural ozone scent, crisp and sharp, a little burnt. He could even taste it in the back of his throat, faintly bitter, becoming more and more noticeable with their human bodies perspiring, sweat gathering in all the places they touched and pressed.

Everywhere tingled and buzzed and felt hot and sensitive...especially between them, in the most intimate places on their human bodies. Aziraphale could taste Crowley, and smell Crowley and he could now feel all of Crowley. The demon's body was pressing hard and hot against his own and rubbing along his own in a sensual, rhythmic motion, Crowley steadily rocking his hips downward, moving them together. And it was all so tactile and fantastically stimulating and Aziraphale dug his fingernails into the firm muscle of Crowley's flanks and the back of his neck when the demon turned his head aside by a handful of his pale hair and lavished over his racing pulse with sharp teeth, sucking kisses and little bites.

Right after, Crowley gruffly said,

"Angel." against his pulse point, the skin there still pleasantly stinging from his teeth and bruising kisses. Aziraphale hummed in response, and then a hand cupped the side of his face with gentle pressure, which had him automatically turning his head. He opened his eyes just so, meeting Crowley's heated gaze briefly, before his mouth was claimed in a wet kiss that, for an extended moment, was more of an exchange of tongues. But when it eventually eased into a slow kiss, Aziraphale didn't want it to end, so he made use of his hand on Crowley's neck, sliding it up to grip his hair and keep him there, continuing the kiss, escalating it, arching his body up into it. Crowley didn't hesitate to continue, and he drew the kiss out long and languidly and made sure it was indulgent and Aziraphale let his mouth be thoroughly devoured until he felt weak and euphorically dizzy. And only when his hand loosened its grip on that vibrant red hair, did Crowley ease the kiss off through a few parting and closing smacks of their lips, eventually drawing away altogether.

He was panting softly when he opened his eyes, seemingly right when Crowley did, their half-lidded gazes meeting and their breaths mingling. And no longer distracted by kissing, Aziraphale became aware of Crowley's hand making its way down between their bodies, his body trembling as those long fingers tickled over those sensitive places on the way down.

That sinful hand moved even lower, right as Crowley quietly asked,

"Ready, Angel?" and Aziraphale gasped softly, his body gently starting and flashing with heat when he felt the tips of Crowley's fingers touch him intimately. The rush of heat was quickly accompanied by anticipation, making his nerves buzz pleasantly and the aroused tension that had been building between his legs momentarily coiled so tightly every muscle in his body tensed and released.

He knew what that touch meant, what Crowley was asking, because he knew about how sex between two male human partners worked, and he knew that was the place where Crowley would enter him. He'd wondered on occasion in the last three years, about what it would be like to have human sex with Crowley. About what it would feel like to have Crowley inside him that way. About experiencing that sort of physical connection, the one that humans made such a fuss about. And he wanted it. It'd felt very inappropriate to think of such things in Heaven though, so he'd often done his best to keep his thoughts mild and infrequent. But now he didn't have to feel uncomfortable about his desires, and oh, how he desired, how he wanted.

He nodded then, smiling shakily and sighing out,

"Yes, Crowley, I'm ready for you."

Crowley's eyes glowed in the low light, and he swallowed audibly before saying,

"For me." voice throaty, the words almost lost to a mumble.

Aziraphale brought his hand down from Crowley's hair to hold his face, nodding as he said,

"Yes, only for you, Crowley." and he smiled with all of the love he felt for the other being, "You have to know." but seeing Crowley's bright, demonic eyes suddenly shining with a faint wetness and sensing his doubt, Aziraphale moved his hand to touch Crowley's chin, and then his lips, fingertips trembling as he breathed out, "I know it took too long, I took too long, but as soon as I could, I had to come back to see you, because the thought of you not knowing was unbearable." and he felt his own eyes burning with the threat of tears as well...

...because he couldn't read anything beyond sadness on Crowley's face.

---

Aziraphale's words soothed the ache he'd been feeling for the last three years, but only for the briefest of moments before it came back with twice the weight in pain, heavy and dreadful in the pit of his human stomach and under the ribs in his chest. Because hadn't that been the problem for some six millennia? The fact that they should have known, but they hadn't. They hadn't known and hadn't acknowledged and hadn't talked until it'd been too late. And wasn't that how it always felt too? Like it was too late? Crowley felt that same way right then, that it was too late for them, yet again.

Aziraphale was Heaven's Supreme Archangel.

He was Hell's Unofficial Grand Duke.

And there was the impending Second Armageddon, The Second Coming, bearing down on them.

What future did they together have before it came?

What future could they have after?

If they even survived it.

They were, after all, hereditary enemies, seemingly destined to be on rival sides even when they'd once worked so hard not to be on any side. Gabriel and Beelzebub weren't the rule in the end, they'd simply been the exception.

Yes, it was too late for him and Aziraphale. Aziraphale had chosen Heaven, and he would go back soon enough, back to planning Armageddon with the other fucking angels, and his Angel would have to do it without him, because he would not be going with him to Heaven. Ever. No, he'd stay on Earth, and he'd keep going back to Hell, where eventually Luci- Satan, would find out he'd been 'helping' to run things and he'd have to face either accepting whatever was expected of him, being permanently destroyed, or running away by himself. No matter what happened, it really was too late already, and they had no control over any of it. Except for right then, in that moment, he was in control, he and Aziraphale were in control. Aziraphale had chosen to come to him, to be with him, and he'd chosen to have whatever he could of his Angel before he'd have nothing ever again. Because sure, they couldn't run off together, but before it all ended, they could be more. They could be closer. They could have this. They could-

"Crowley?" Aziraphale said his name softly, like it was precious, and also like it was a question. And his Angel was smiling, a small smile, but every smile from Aziraphale was beautiful and pure, and his blue eyes were shining with fondness and love and happiness. Desire and need too, because he was still flushed, and trembling and they were both still aroused.

Taking it all in, Crowley's swallowed sorely, the action of swallowing intended to keep himself from hissing out those three little words like an accusation, an accusation of how Aziraphale hadn't known, of why he hadn't stayed when he'd asked, pleaded. He didn't think anything good would come from saying those three words. It was easier for an angel to say them, but for him it wasn't so simple. He was capable of love, but as a demon it wasn't easy to feel, and it was hard to accept and even harder to confess. No, saying it would hurt too much, with all the uncertainty he felt, so it was better to keep them trapped safely behind his teeth.

Aziraphale was starting to look concerned though, waiting for him to say something and he knew his face was probably betraying his emotions, but he didn't trust himself to speak, so Crowley chose action as his answer instead. He was leaning his weight on one elbow beside Aziraphale's head, and he took a light hold of the angel's hair when he dipped his head to bring their mouths together, to kiss Aziraphale's addictive mouth again, and then again, deeply each time, pouring all his feelings, the feelings he couldn't verbally articulate, into his kiss. And despite the long silence and the concern that had been on his face, Aziraphale eagerly kissed him back, both of those soft hands settling on his back, middle and lower, fingertips pressing into his skin, clinging to him. Crowley could hear and feel the trembling in Aziraphale's breathing and his entire body...

---

PORTION OF THE STORY REMOVED FOR NC17 CONTENT/PLEASE READ UNCENSORED ON AO3

---

As he rode out his orgasm, he'd pressed his forehead to Aziraphale's, fighting a losing battle to keep his eyes open for very long, his body twitching with aftershocks of pleasure, mouth hanging open on short half-soundless moans and shaken exhales. But Aziraphale stayed in the moment with him, continuing to hold his face and watch him, his Angel's expression a mixture of loving wonderment and satisfaction.

They stayed that way for a long minute as everything slowly wound down, their breathing settling and their sweated skin cooling, the mess of bedding and skew pillows splayed around them in the quiet stillness of the low lit room coming into focus again. And they both had their eyes fixed on each other when they mutually leaned in to kiss, and then they continued to do so, kissing and kissing, slow and languid and conveniently ignoring breathing sometimes, while choosing to do so at other points just to sigh into each other's mouths or breathe each other in.

However long the kiss lasted, Crowley had no idea, but he honestly couldn't help smiling as the kiss trailed off to lingering lips and soft breaths, because Aziraphale was smiling too, but also they were both still floating high off their human bodies' hormones as well as the comfortable new intermingling of their auras. Their connection felt stronger, physically and emotionally, and Crowley felt happy. He hadn't been this happy in so long. He smirked though, remembering it'd almost gone pear-shaped when he'd nearly lost control. Had it not been for Aziraphale having so much emotional control it might have escalated. Crowley wasn't confident that his wings wouldn't have flared out behind him, tearing into the mortal realm, something that had been long disallowed for both demons and angels to do on Earth. But even though no mortal would have witnessed it, and never mind that the span of his wings would've caused damage to his bedroom, but a burst of uncontrolled demonic energy like that on a mortal plane would have caused even worse damage to the flat, would have killed his plants, injured a few neighbors, shattered his windows and would have taken out the building's power, if not the whole street. It would have been a me-

"What are you thinking about?" Aziraphale asked with a pouty frown, voice still a bit quiet and raspy, and his hands were being pleasantly distracting just then, one settled on Crowley's right cheek, fingertips tracing his snake tattoo, while the other was fiddling with his undoubtedly chaotic hair. But knowing his hair was wildly messy because Aziraphale hadn't been able to stop putting his hands in it just made Crowley grin wider, admitting,

"Just how fantastic that was." keeping his voice low and intimate as he used his own fingers to play with the damp flicks of Aziraphale's hair beside where his arm held him up, "You almost made me lose it, Angel." he teased, his eyes tracking over his Angel's still slightly flushed face.

Aziraphale's pout eased into a shy but pleased smile,

"Yes, that really was a close call." he said quite solemnly, brow briefly furrowing, which almost made Crowley frown, but then it was gone and Aziraphale was saying, "But, indeed, it was fantastic." his Angel gave him a look then...a look of mock jealousy maybe? Or a playful accusation? Either way, he looked mildly unimpressed, and the adorable pout was back-, "And indeed, you were fantastic. I assume this must be an area you've had a good matter of experience in?"

Oh, that was what the look was about. Crowley didn't think anything of it though, since none of that stuff of the past mattered and he doubted Aziraphale really cared. So he kept smirking as he answered,

"I've never experienced anything like what we've just done, Angel," and then he eased his smirk into something softer, "and I never want to experience anything like this with anyone besides you, ever again." and it was, as humans would say, a cheesy line. But it was also so very, very true and saying it out aloud was worth the happiness that lit up Aziraphale's face, even as he tried to tamp it down again quickly, playfully warning,

"You'd better not." tapping a finger against Crowley's right cheek lightly, "Not even for work."

"Wot?" Crowley raised his eyebrows, smirk dropping from genuine confused surprise, because that second comment sounded more serious. His Angel had meant that warning. Did Aziraphale really think he'd- okay, no, that was just not on. Crowley decided then that it was best to be clear, so he pulled his face to show exactly what he thought of that idea, saying,

"Yes, of course not, I haven't even done that, not for wor- actually, nof'fer any reason," he made sure to emphasize, "in centuries," lifting his free hand off the mattress to wave it dismissively, "And I'm not about to start up again now."

Aziraphale seemed somewhat amused by his reaction, but he also looked very pleased and satisfied with the answer, making a contented humming sound, smiling soft and happily as those blue eyes dropped to Crowley's mouth again when he said,

"Well, that's perfectly alright, then."

Crowley's smirk returned and he tilted his head, teasingly asking,

"D'you think so?" then, smirking more when Aziraphale haughtily bobbed his eyebrows, he inclined his head, adding, "I'm so glad you approve." in one of his weirder tones, knowing his exaggerated speaking quirks amused Aziraphale. And he grinned when his Angel genuinely giggled, just a little breathy and only for a moment, but it was just perfect, and it'd been so long since Crowley had heard it that his stomach did that annoying 'butterfly' thing. His smirk didn't falter though, and he couldn't look away from Aziraphale, needing to say, "You were rather fantastic yourself, Angel." he complimented honestly, but also making sure to make it sound a little naughty, "Makes me want to start all over again, have my wicked way with you and all that." he wasn't even lying. Aziraphale smiled again, totally pleased and glowing with it, and he caught Crowley off guard, saying,

"Oh, please do, I think you know I'd rather enjoy it." blushing brightly, pursing his lips.

Crowley had to take a moment to not breathe as the 'butterflies' in his stomach rioted when he realized he was still falling. He was still falling for his Angel. And it felt like every second they'd ever spent together still wasn't enough and never would be, because he'd never experienced flirting with Aziraphale and it was so perfect, he doubted he'd ever get tired of it. He'd never get enough.

Hoping his face wasn't revealing all his sappy emotions, Crowley swallowed sorely and kept smirking,

"What would Heaven say to such a thing?" he asked playfully, voice a little gruffer, "You enjoying a demon despoiling you."

Aziraphale did that thing where he rolled his eyes without actually rolling them,

"It seems they've nothing to say, or else, after what we just did, I'd already be falling, and you'd be smitten." Crowley was already both of those things, and he was also thoroughly enjoying the back and forth after so many years without his Angel, so after snorting softly he said,

"What am I to be to you then, Angel, your dark secret? Your extra curricular activity?" a flash of memory surfaced just then, and he added, "Your bit on the side?"

"My bit on- what? Absolutely not." Aziraphale sounded quite offended and he was frowning cutely, his hands sliding down to caress over his shoulders, settling there, "I would never." Crowley kept smiling, tracking his eyes over Aziraphale's face as his Angel talked, "Bit on the side'." he 'hmphed' and shook his head disapprovingly, "Wherever did you even get such nonsense? Don't ever think like that. You're far too important to me to be such a thing."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Angel." he mumbled, pathetically besotted.

"In fact, I think-..." Aziraphale pointedly glanced upwards, smiling in his cleverly misbehaving way, "...-might actually be my 'bit on the side'." and he looked so amused with his easily misconstrued, and definitely blasphemous, joke Crowley had to laugh. Just once, a satisfied and genuine 'hah!' before he dipped his head and snuck a quick kiss to those smiling lips, staying close to say,

"Naughty, naughty, Angel..." and feeling so utterly in love, he breathed out, "I missed you, Aziraphale."

Aziraphale's own tracking gaze met his eyes immediately, and he didn't hesitate to say,

"I missed you, too. So very, very much." his face openly expressing his feelings.

And then his Angel was cupping his face and pulling him into a kiss, a deep kiss. Aziraphale was smiling into the kiss and Crowley wasn't, but he reveled in kissing back with everything he couldn't easily express. It actually all still felt kind of unreal, to be kissing Aziraphale, to have shared with the other being what he'd never thought possible between them. And yet it was so natural how easily they gravitated toward one another, how they fit, how right it all felt and how comfortable they were together, even in something they'd only just shared for the first time.

Crowley gradually took control of the kiss and Aziraphale arched against him while also pulling him closer, flexing hands holding onto his shoulders as he sighed into the kiss, sounding deeply content and making Crowley shiver as arousal sparked under his skin and warmth filled his chest. And even though he was no longer inside Aziraphale, their bodies having separated naturally once everything was back to resting size and with how slippery it all was, but he was still between his Angel's legs, their bodies touching intimately, and it wouldn't take very long before they'd be able to start all over again.

But he was still teeming with unsettled emotions after his admission a moment before, and he couldn't seem to get a hold on them. The kiss didn't help either, since it felt more and more emotional as it went on, becoming more physically involved, not just their mouths, but their hands and limbs and bodies pressing closer. It was totally undoing his resolve to not say it. And then Aziraphale unknowingly began chipping away at that resolve in whole chunks when in between their kisses, his Angel started mumbling things like 'your hair feels better than I ever imagined', those same fingers back to messing it up. And 'you smell so good under that human cologne' and 'it feels so right, Crowley, being with you like this ' while moving those pale legs to slide along his own, wrapping one arm around his shoulders and sliding a warm hand low between his human shoulder blades, into the exact space between where the secondary trapezius muscles of his wings existed outside of the mortal realm. Crowley was basically done for by the time Aziraphale sighed out, 'I'm so happy right now, my love'.

That was like the final straw, with Aziraphale saying all those things, baring all of his feelings so easily and plainly, so fearlessly. Crowley couldn't help feeling overwhelmed and helpless and...angry. Angry because how could Aziraphale say all those things when they had no chance!? When he was just going to leave again!? He couldn't hold it in anymore then, not when his head was starting to spin and his puny human chest felt like it would burst, unable to contain all of his emotions. Feeling the way he was, the intention to speak started with a low rumbling growl in his chest, and then he abruptly ended their kiss, pushing up and bracing himself on both hands, so he could look right into Aziraphale's eyes when he harshly confessed,

"I love you, Aziraphale." and as he expected, the words came out like an accusation, a question and a plea all at once.

Aziraphale's half lidded blue eyes widened at hearing those words, but instead of reacting negatively to his tone his Angel was immune as usual, and Aziraphale just completely lit up, beaming up at him with the full force of that stunning smile and breathing out,

"Oh, I know." and Crowley felt his anger burn like acid in his throat as confusion compounded everything else he was feeling. He cocked an eyebrow then, demanding an explanation from Aziraphale without words, and the angel kept smiling so lovingly with those hands returning to rest on his shoulders and squeezing lightly as he answered, "I wasn't expecting you to say it, Crowley. I know how difficult it must be for you to say such a thing." like it was so simple, like that was all there was too it. Like that was the whole issue! Aziraphale's hands moved again, Crowley just staring into his face as the angel sincerely added, "but, but thank you, hearing you say it, well, it's heavenly."

And it probably shouldn't have, or maybe it rightfully did; those words made him feel pathetically worse. And small, and anxious and stupid. And they dragged him back to the reality he'd been trying very hard to put off properly thinking about since Aziraphale had bloody seduced him. Seduced by an angel! And the award for the worst demon EVER goes to...

Crowley pulled away all at once, quickly dropping to sit to the side of Aziraphale. He settled with his face turned away, glaring at the far wall, one leg folded underneath the other as he leaned back on his hand, using his other to grab up some of the sheet to cover his lap. His throat was working around tense swallows, and when he put his elbow on his knee and cuffed a hand into his hair to push it back, upset as he was, the feeling of the sweat damp state of it made him irritable. So he twitched his face when he activated a miracle, instantly removing all human excess bodily emissions created during sex from himself and Aziraphale, leaving his hair still an untamed mess, but dry and clean between his clenched fingers. Not like it mattered, the afterglow was well and truly fucked anyw-

"Crowley, did I say something wrong?" Aziraphale had sat up, warm fingers touching his bare upper arm and Crowley didn't flinch at the touch, but it was a near thing. Even though they'd literally just had sex, he felt uneasy about being touched. Probably because he felt exposed, "I have, haven't I?" Aziraphale sounded sad and worried, "What is it? What did I-"

"Just leave it." Crowley said curtly, considering getting up and miracling himself dress-

"No, I will not leave-"

"You will leave." he snapped then, pulling his hand out of his hair and turning his head to look at Aziraphale with wide unblinking eyes. The angel was leaning forward where he sat and his fingers flexed into Crowley's arm as he frowned, blue eyes wide with confusion,

"What do you mea-?"

"That's the whole thing of it, Aziraphale," he answered before the question was even asked, "even after this," he glanced between them, "you will leave. You will go back to Heaven and be a Supreme fucking Archangel," that was one thing, and another, "and I don't want you to say 'thank you'..." he trailed off, took in a shuddering breath and then swallowed tensely again when the pain in his chest and throat momentarily muted him. When he was able to exhale again, he hissed out, "I want you to say, you'll stay."

Aziraphale's confusion and concern disappeared then, the angel seeming to have some kind of realization for a moment, and then he was smiling but frowning and looking regretful and apologetic and Crowley felt his anger rise so fast he was very close to steaming when Aziraphale said,

"Oh, Crowley, I'm sorry." in a tone too fucking similar to the one he'd used three years ago in the bookshop before he'd said, 'nothing lasts for - "I still owe you an explanation." ...ev -wait. He what?

"You wot?" he asked through clenched teeth, brow creasing, his eyes wide and searching Aziraphale's.

The angel had also gathered up some of the silk sheet into his lap, and he held onto the bunched-up material as he took in a shaken breath and shimmied further forward so he was sitting even closer, neither of them breaking eye contact,
"I couldn't say anything to you that day-"

"What day?" he knew he was speaking harshly but he was so angry and confused.

"That day, Crowley, that day when I left-"

"OH, you said enough that day, you said more than en-"

"Crowley, listen to me." Aziraphale raised his voice just so, using that rarely authoritative tone of his, and even though every part of Crowley wanted to say no, he didn't. Instead, he closed his mouth and exhaled the faintest wisps of steam before turning his head away again.

He didn't turn back, even when Aziraphale shifted closer so that the side of his naked thigh was touching Crowley's folded leg. And even when Aziraphale said,

"You really were right, and I was absolutely wrong." he didn't turn around, but he made a very aggressive scoffing sound, wondering if this was another rendition of that stupid song and dan-, "Everything you said in the bookshop that day, about how I didn't understand the choice I was making, about how Heaven and Hell," the hand squeezed lightly on his arm, "about how they are toxic. You were right about all of it." he was close enough that Crowley could feel the breaths of his words ticking his shoulder. And Crowley was listening, but he still wouldn't turn to look when he said,

"It's too late, Aziraphale, whenever it was that you finally realized it, after a year, a few months or even a few days, whenever it was, it was already too-"

"Outside the...el-elevator, actually." Aziraphale breathed out, and it sounded like a pained confession, his voice even cracking. His tone was once again full of apology and regret, the same way he'd sounded and the way he'd looked at Crowley many times since he'd first shown up earlier. And it took a moment for Crowley to let those words sink in, and then he turned slowly and leaned closer to look at Aziraphale again, disbelievingly asking,

"What did you say?" feeling totally at a loss. Their faces were so close then that their noses were almost touching and Aziraphale briefly went cross-eyed before he adjusted to the proximity, blinking as Crowley tried to make sense of what he'd said, mumbling, "No, no, that's, no, no you can't-" he shook his head, "you can't mean you realized I was right, when you were outside the elevator? Before you got into the elevator with the Metatron, you, you realized...?" he raised his eyebrows, unable to finish the question.

Aziraphale nodded, eyes starting to shine with tears again,

"I did," he admitted softly, briefly dropping his gaze, lips twitching sadly, "I realized it then, and-"

"And then why did you leave, Aziraphale?" he cut the other off again, chest hurting for many new reasons, "I wait-," he had to pause, had to look away and swallow sorely before making himself say, "I waited for you. I waited right outside, just, just to see, just in case..." Aziraphale's hand cupped his face and he only weakly resisted the touch, letting his face be turned but keeping his eyes averted,

"I kn-I know," the angel sniffed and Crowley looked at him, to find his tears were enough to wet his eyelashes, "You were there, you were right there, looking at me, even at the exact moment I knew I'd made a mistake, but all I could do after I realized was look back at you-"

"Why?" he asked weakly too, unblinking, shaking his head, "Why didn't you just come to-"

"Because," Aziraphale breathed the word out with a sudden anger, continuing that way when he explained, "the Metatron had just told me Heaven was planning a second Armageddon attempt, Crowley. I thought I could make a difference, but the truth was Heaven already had more plans for Earth's destruction, and I needed to know their plan." Crowley felt his empty stomach lurch, blood leaving his face, "Or else how else would we know what to do to stop it." Aziraphale finished, voice sad again, wet blue eyes searching his own desperately.

'This can't be happening.' Crowley thought bitterly, looking away again, blinking his eyes many times as tears threateningly burned, 'If I had told him about the plan,' because he'd seen the fucking plan, 'instead of wasting time confessing, instead of kissing him, if I had just used my stupid fucking mouth to tell him I'd been to Heaven and knew their fucking plan, would he have stay-'

"You understand, don't you?" Aziraphale sounded so regretful and guilty, and Crowley felt exactly the same way, "If I'd turned around right then and walked away, we'd never have known anything, at least not until it was too late for Earth and all the humans." Crowley just numbly listened as Aziraphale continued to explain himself, as if this whole shitshow hadn't just turned out to be his own stupid fault. He'd been dumb enough to take human advice and waste his breath confessing love when there'd been more important things to say. Pathetic, he was pathet-, "As it was, being promoted to Supreme Archangel gave me access to files I wouldn't have been able to see as a principality."

Crowley felt even more sick then. In three years, he hadn't even once thought of that. Aziraphale would indeed have had access to everything, even Heaven's millennia old archive records. Had he...had the angel looked at his files? Did Aziraphale know about him, and about the details of his fall?

"Crowley, please, look at me." Aziraphale sounded so vulnerable and worried, but he couldn't look, not yet, "I had no way of telling you in that moment, I had no choice." he took in a breath and he sounded like he was trying to seem surer of himself as he went on, "I only had my immediate resolve to go to Heaven, to gain the upper hand for Earth, for us." and Crowley just knew his Angel had probably felt excited and empowered at the thought of being a secret spy in Heaven. He'd probably felt determined and proud of his clever plan and the possibility of beating Heaven at its own game. "And in three years, three years that felt impossibly long," his Angel went on, Crowley hating that instead of sounding happy, he sounded miserable and disappointed in himself, "this is the first time the Metatron and all the angels actively involved in the planning were otherwise occupied." Aziraphale's hand was still on his face, thumb gently stroking his skin, "This was the first chance, the soonest moment, I could manage to come back to you."

Silence fell then, Aziraphale's breathing shaky, the angel sniffing softly, thumb still stroking Crowley's cheek. His angel waited so patiently as he sat there letting it all sink in, let it settle sickeningly heavy and ill fit in his human chest that he was more than just a little to blame for Aziraphale leaving, and not just for the reason he'd originally thought. It hadn't been about what he'd said or done that day in the bookshop, it had been about what he hadn't said and done. He'd already known Heaven was planning their Armageddon sequel. He'd known, but he hadn't said anything, hadn't even really been thinking about bringing it up right away. He'd been thinking about the Ritz and a peaceful breakfast together and watching Aziraphale enjoy Périgord truffles. He'd simply wanted to get back to spending time with Aziraphale. He'd wanted to be with his Angel, anywhere, just the two of them.

He should have known it was important though, that Aziraphale wouldn't want to leave Earth to its doom. His Angel was too good for that. Crowley was not that good, he'd always been fine with going off together, the Earth was nice, but it was Aziraphale that really mattered. Even right then, he just wanted Aziraphale to be with him, to choose him, to sta-

"I know I hurt-" Aziraphale cut himself off, inhaled shakily and then tried again, "I know I let you down, with my reaction in the bookshop." and Crowley knew he'd reworded what he'd wanted to say because the angel probably expected him to deny being 'hurt'. To say something like 'I'm a demon, I don't get hurt', but he wouldn't even have denied that he'd been terribly hurt. "I supposed I've always been too gullible and naïve," the angel finally lowered his hand from where he'd been touching his face, giving up on getting him to look into those blue eyes, "I just wanted so badly to believe the Metatron, to believe in change. I wanted to think I could make a dif-"

"Not gullible," Crowley said emphatically, not willing to sit there while Aziraphale talked badly about himself, "not gullible, or naïve. Angel, you're," he finally looked at Aziraphale then, letting the angel see the emotions of regret and love on his face, "you're just genuinely good, and so full of hope and love and pure intentions." he watched as Aziraphale blinked a few times quickly, wetting his eyelashes even more. And some wetness threatened to slip from the corner of his eye, so Crowley brought a hand to his face to wipe it away, but before he could, Aziraphale held his hand with both of his own, like he'd been waiting for Crowley to reach out, like he was relieved, and Crowley felt like total shit. So in an attempt to make his Angel smile, he smirked and teased, "Perhaps your choices are not always particularly pragmatic," he said the words by the syllable, then mumbled, "but I find it all rather charming."

Aziraphale's frowning lips stretched into a wobbly smile then,

"Even when I mess up and do foolish things."

Crowley kept smirking, arching an eyebrow and briefly touching the tips of their noses together,

"Definitely, those moments are when I have the chance to be your knight in sinister armour." and he was only half joking. He loved being there for Aziraphale, he'd made a point of being there whenever he could, whenever he was really needed, over the millennia. And he wanted to do it for the rest of eternity if he could. Aziraphale did that thing again, rolling his eyes without rolling them, but he became somber again quickly, asking,

"Seriously though, do you forgive me?"

Crowley dropped the smirk, shaking his head to immediately dismiss the idea such a thing was needed,

"Nothing to forgive, Angel, you did what you felt was right, you know I'd never fault you for that."

"Yes, yes," Aziraphale's one hand slipped down to hold his forearm, while with the other he interlocked their fingers, "but I mean, do you forgive me for before I realized I was making a mistake, Crowley. Not my choice to go to Heaven, I mean, in the booksho-"

"I mean all of it," he curled his fingers over Aziraphale's knuckles and squeezed lightly, "you were choosing what you felt was right. Even in the bookshop." and it was true, "You wanted to go to Heaven because you believed you could make a difference to the way they do things, that's what you felt was right. That's who you are. No fault in that."

Aziraphale always did what he felt was right, it was indeed a part of what made him so amazing, so beautiful. It was a big part of what made Crowley fall in love with him. His Angel did what he felt was the right thing, not just what he was told was the right thing.

Crowley watched the emotions of relief and happiness play over his Angel's face, but only for a fleeting moment before Aziraphale averted his gaze, looking down at their interlocked hands with a frown,

"I still left you that way. I left you to think..." he sounded pained and regretful again, shaking his head, "And I hated knowing you'd be thinking I was just a fool to trust the Metatron, especially when I almost was a foo-"

"I never thought you were a fool." Crowley said firmly, and then he paused to steel himself before dipping his head to catch Aziraphale's gaze. And when he did, teeth loosely clenched, he forced himself to admit, "I just, I just thought that you'd finally realized that I...was never again going to be the angel you remembered." he watched closely when he said this, to see if there was any specific awareness in Aziraphale's gaze of the angel he actually used to be. But when there was no change, just the same sadness, he pressed on, "And that you decided, you know," he facially shrugged, "that a demon wasn't worth," he paused to think of a word, making a face when he settled on, "seceding for."

Aziraphale quickly shook his head and when his other hand came up to hold his face again, Crowley leaned into it just so, wanting that touch, needing it, especially after finding out that Aziraphale hadn't actually left- left hi-

"Well, here I am, preparing to secede for the wicked and wily demon, Crowley." he seemed too emotional to be making light of the situation, but Crowley managed to snort, even smiling, despite having not missed the use of the word 'preparing', and the implication behind it.

Ignoring it for the moment, he asked,

"Have I successfully ensnared you, Supreme Archangel Aziraphale?" voice quiet, his own attempt at humor mostly falling flat. Aziraphale tried to smile though, his eyebrow briefly ticking up, before he sniffed softly and sincerely said,

"I think, rather than ensnared, I'm quite properly enamored."

Crowley managed to keep smiling, because while that was a 'cheesy' line, it worked on him. It made him feel that happiness again.

Silence fell then, even though there was still a lot that needed to be said. So much in fact, that Crowley was having trouble seeing any positives to their situation due to all the things that were still unspoken, and all the factors and problems still in play that weren't going to go away just because they'd finally decided to be honest about being in love. He was also wrestling with the decision of whether or not he should tell Aziraphale he'd already known about Heaven's second Armageddon plan. He didn't actually want to, and anyway, it wasn't as if they'd ever had a totally honest dynamic. Really, they'd often kept things from each other, whether it'd been during the time they still reported to their respective head offices, or during the time they'd been 'free agents', they tended to omit truths more often than not, usually finding something out later and even then, not necessarily bringing it up...

They sat that way for a while then, close and quiet, thinking their respective thoughts with their eyes down, looking at their joined hands, their interlocked fingers shifting and flexing, giving light squeezes, maintaining touch, touching just because they could. And while it was pleasant and somewhat grounding, it didn't stop Crowley's negative thoughts from racing and making him anxious. What did stop them, was when he felt the hand on his face move down, soft fingertips trailing over his neck, slowly outward over his shoulder, and then Aziraphale's warm palm flattened and slid down the center of his chest before shifting again and it was just fingertips tickling over a row of his ribs. It seemed as though Aziraphale's thoughts had wandered in a different direction? Crowley's focus shifted to his Angel's lowered gaze as those fingers moved further down to his stomach...but then Aziraphale brought his hand back up to settle on his clavicle and Crowley's skin was left tingling everywhere that hand had touched him, but he was unsure of whether to feel aroused by the possibly innocent or curious touches.

He got his answer a second later, the spark of arousal he'd felt snuffed out when Aziraphale said,

"I do have to go back, though." those blue eyes raising, looking sadly into his own, "The plan is developing quickly, and there are still changes being made to it quite often." he informed, looking sorry and regretful again.

"..." Crowley just blinked once, reptile quick, staring at Aziraphale as he took in that new information. And, well, yes, it wasn't good news, and another Armageddon was very daunting to think about and all that, but even though he hated that Aziraphale would have to leave again, hearing about the plan changing actually made him feel better, it made him feel less like he'd screwed up, less like an idi-

"And I have to be there to stay up to date on the changes, so that I can find the weak points in their machinations and be ready for th- oh!" Crowley was mildly surprised, raising his eyebrows when Aziraphale had a sudden burst of excitement, both the angel's hands covering his and squeezing, "I've been keeping notes, you see, planning out some counter ideas, devising ways to sabotage certain things," he lifted his free hand to gesticulate with his fingers when he added, "strategizing." and then the angel's hand settled again, that time in the center of his chest, firm and warm, fingers lightly curling in. "And I've even encrypted my notes with a password." he sounded thrilled, pursing his smiling lips afterward, blue eyes bright again. He was clearly filled with excitement and the need to talk about his clever plans. His Angel had always loved that sort of thing, and Crowley loved that about him. He just hoped Aziraphale's password wasn't anything nearly as predictable as Heaven usually made them. Not wanting to rain on his parade by asking about that right then, Crowley just hummed and said,

"It sounds like you've been very busy." smirking in an encouraging, sincere way and adding, "Good work, Angel." with no sarcasm to it at all, not as he might've had for anyone else getting so excited about such a thing.

For Aziraphale it was genuine. He was genuinely pleased that his Angel was feeling proud and happy again, no more sadness in his lovely eyes. But perhaps it was also true that Crowley felt able to smile about it because he now knew that Aziraphale hadn't left him out of rejection three years ago, and that when he left again, it wouldn't be because he wanted to be apart. Aziraphale had confessed to being in love, it was real, they were real. His stuff up at communicating hadn't totally screwed up their relationship. And 'the silver lining', for lack of a better expression to use, was that Aziraphale had actually made a beneficial choice, the right choice, in following the Metatron to Heaven. Because if the plans had changed so much since he'd last seen them, and seeing as how Aziraphale wanted to stop another apocalypse, the more they knew about it the better.

Aziraphale was looking expectantly at him then, cheeks faintly flush from excitement and the encouragement, but his bright blue eyes were round and uncertain when he asked,

"You don't seem upset anymore, is that...is that a good thing?" he looked hopeful, and when Crowley just made his typical 'sure' face and mumbled out a sound, the uncertainty left Aziraphale's eyes and even more hopefully he asked, "Can I take it to mean you're going to help me?"

Crowley frowned at that, confused as to what he could help with besides being at Aziraphale's side and doing the angel's plan. But then Aziraphale was squeezing his hand again, saying, "It's actually rather fortunate in a way that you're able to return and leave Hell freely, because this means we can gain intel from both sides!" he added with quiet exclamation, and, ah, yes, Crowley finally got it. Aziraphale wanted him to be a spy in Hell for the whole thwarting Armageddon 2.0 thingamy. Which, okay, he'd kind of already had that plan going for himself, the only thing was, his Angel didn't know that the gig of being a freelance demon was pretty precarious. Like a ticking time bomb he'd strapped to himself...before there'd been any risk of Aziraphale getting caught up in the explosion. After all, Satan was bound to come calling about Crowley's part in all of it eventually...

Crowley really didn't want to get into that right then though, it wasn't as if telling Aziraphale would make the situation any better, so he just raised his eyebrows and tilted his head back slightly, taking in a slow breath before inclining his head, smiling as he said,
"Of course I'll help you, Angel." and as Aziraphale's entire countenance lit up with happiness and he beamed that beautiful smile, Crowley thought, 'We're likely to end up destroyed this time around, but have I ever really been able to say no to you?'

He was used to saying yes to Aziraphale, he was used to giving in to his Angel...

...what he wasn't used to was said angel wrapping his arms around his neck with a sound of delight and kissing him. That was new. And Crowley immediately decided he was absolutely alright with it.

Crowley leaned into the kiss and adjusted his body to rebalance, leaning on one hand beside Aziraphale's hip while placing the other on the Angel's bare thigh. And sliding that hand up, his fingers met the silk covering Aziraphale's lap and he began gathering it up in a light grip, intending to bare his Angel to him once again. And he was just about to deepen the kiss, to slip his tongue along the seam of Aziraphale's lips, when the angel ended the kiss suddenly, pulling back with a soft smacking sound, smiling and saying,

"We have so much to talk about before I go back, Crowley, I have to tell you the plan and catch you up on all the happenings. Give you the low-down, as they say!"

---

Aziraphale didn't even need to think twice about throwing his arms around Crowley and kissing him. It felt like the easiest and loveliest and most natural thing to do in that moment to show how he felt, to show his relief and share his joy with the one he loved!

He was feeling so elated and incredibly relieved that Crowley had forgiven him. The demon had taken everything he'd confessed to so much better than he'd expected. He'd thought there'd be more questions, more shock, and maybe much more of Crowley's growly yelling, but it seemed that he understood and was willing to accept everything quite well. Crowley even seemed to understand why he'd chosen to go with the Metatron, even though he'd realized before getting in the elevator that he was being misled and manipulated into leaving Earth, and he could technically have stayed.

But staying hadn't felt like the right choice at the time. It'd been like an epiphany, the moment the Metatron had said the words 'second coming', he'd known he was making a mistake, and he'd had to make a difficult decision on the spot of what to do, which he had, but there'd been no way to tell Crowley. So he'd had to take one last look at him across the distance to steel himself, before going along with the Metatron, despite it hurting and upsetting him that Crowley would be thinking he was leaving him so coldly, leaving because he was a gullible fool. The Metatron had been thinking he was a gullible fool too, having no doubt felt quite pleased with himself, to be taking Aziraphale away from Earth. He'd also realized not long after that, from the way the other angels whispered about him 'consorting with the Demon Crowley', that the Metatron had wanted him away from Crowley specifically. That the Metatron had probably known Crowley would decline to be an angel again, it had been some kind of set up! The Metatron actually seemed to have a particular distaste for Crowley. Although, Aziraphale had noticed that some other angels he'd been around in the past three years shared the same familiar sort of distaste, including Saraqael. It was odd to be sure. It probably didn't matter though, what mattered was that Crowley understood why he'd had to leave, and forgave him, and now he had to tell Crowley about his plans!

He felt bad for pulling back from the kiss just when Crowley had been leaning into it, but he had to say,

"We have so much to talk about before I go back, Crowley, I have to tell you the plan and catch you up on all that's happened. Give you the low-down, as they say!" and he made sure to emphasize his use of the human colloquialism at the end, adding a bit of theatric flare into his voice as well. However, he seemed to have missed something, because Crowley was just looking at him with one of his 'you said what?' expressions, eyebrows raised and his mouth slightly open, shaped somewhere between wanting to take a bite of something and asking a question.

Aziraphale knew that look too well. He couldn't even list every single time he'd been on the receiving end of it, but he remembered two outstanding times clearly. The very first time was when he'd met Crowley as an angel and he'd been explaining to the other what he understood the point of the Nebula to be to Earth, according to God. The look had been more 'angel' than 'demon' back then, so more of an earnest questioning frown. But by the second time he'd seen that look, on the eastern wall of The Garden, when Crowley had still been Crawley and he'd been explaining why he'd given his flaming sword away, the look had been more refined, and it'd held much more of an amused-demon vibe. Over time though, it changed, and now it was generally directed at him with bemused fondness, as it was just then.

Aziraphale most often found the look entertaining, other times it annoyed him, usually when Crowley was making fun of him. And sometimes, like presently, it confused him because he didn't know what he'd said to warrant it. So, he asked,

"What is it? What did I say?" looking closely into Crowley's face, because they were very close, and his arms were still around Crowley's neck and, and oh, Crowley's hand was halfway under the silk cov-

"Nnn-nothing's wrong , I just..." he made a 'you know' expression accompanied by a few mumbled sounds that weren't actually any words. And even though Crowley's thumb was distractedly brushing high along the inside of his thigh, and he had a pretty clear idea of what Crowley wanted, Aziraphale enjoyed the teasing, so he decided to do so, trying not to smile when he prompted,

"You just?"

Crowley hummed, mumbled,

"...ajus..." which was probably another 'I just', a smirk playing on his lips, low lidded eyes bright yellow as his hand slid further under the cover. Aziraphale couldn't help making a small sound of surprise as Crowley leaned all the way closer, and he took in a heavier breath as that hand, splayed flat and pressed firmly to his skin, slid along his thigh, to his hip and then lower, curving with his body. Aziraphale was starting to feel very warm again, his body reacting with a stirring of interest underneath the cover in his lap. He quite enjoyed how his human body reacted to Crowley's touch, he liked it very-, "...can't we jus'..." Crowley continued to mumble, making a questioning sound as he grinned very naughtily, his mouth almost right against Aziraphale's.

And they could indeed, Aziraphale was very much onboard with the idea of just anything Crowley wanted them to do, but it didn't hurt to tease a bit more, so he raised his eyebrows and calmly said,

"Use your words, dear." before smiling playfully.

Crowley scrunched his face up then, being obstinate as he tended to, but Aziraphale was used to that, so he just put on his best 'please, for me' expression that Crowely had no idea he was totally aware worked wonders when he wanted to get his way. Like right then, when after Crowley regarded him with that default grimace on his face, the demon mumbled,

"Yes, alright, my words. Hrhmm..." Aziraphale smiled, pleased, watching as Crowley looked from his eyes slowly down to his smiling mouth. And then those intense yellow eyes suddenly looked up again and he clearly pronounced every word when he said, "I categorically and uninhibitedly want to do very wicked things to you, Angel." before Crowley leaned in to kiss him, just once lightly, grinning as he drew back and continuing in a mumble against his lips, "Wicked and sinful things." before kissing him again. That time it was a firmer kiss, lingering...tongue seeking entrance, Crowley's hand groping him under the silk. And Aziraphale had no intention of playing any harder to get, that was quite enough for him, so when he parted his mouth, their twin inhales that followed preceded the deepening of the kiss. And very quickly, Aziraphale was starting to feel delightfully lightheaded, so after the next slow closing draw back of the kiss, while he could still think clearly, he smiled and sighed out,

"That's quite alright then." to which Crowley responded by claiming his mouth again with a throaty humming chuckle.

Aziraphale shamelessly let out a moan of pleasured happiness as Crowley kissed him just how he decidedly liked, and he found it wonderfully easy to push any and all thoughts of Heaven and Armageddon out of his mind, wanting to think of nothing else in that moment besides being with Crowley. And he really wanted to keep Crowley close, so he kept his arms wrapped around the demon's neck as he was eased to lie back down, sliding one hand back into that lovely red hair as Crowley shifted his weight above him, the demon's hand roughly pulling and tossing the silk cover away so that their naked bodies were pressing and sliding together...

...and with his toes curling as Crowley's hands found his, lifting them above their heads to pin them to the bed, the demon's hot mouth and sharp teeth marking up his throat, Aziraphale found himself naughtily thinking that he was very glad they didn't need rest or sleep.

---

Much later however, in the early morning hours, lying on his back, still trembling and his heated skin not even cooled yet, Aziraphale was reconsidering that idea. Because despite the fact that mere minutes earlier they'd finished their second bout of emotionally charged and rather ardent sex, Crowley only took a moment to bask and stretch beside him on the bed, before he was sitting up again, cuffing a hand through his disheveled hair and then eyeing him with suggestive consideration.

The next thing, Crowley was straddling him, initiating another go.

It started with tickling fingers on his thighs, followed by distracting kisses and equally tickling strands of hair on his hips and pelvis. And Crowley kept touching him in the same wonderful places but in different explorative and seemingly experimental ways, the demon intent on seeing what would happen when he did this or that. Aziraphale was discovering too, learning about his human body's sensitivity and it all felt so good, and it made him feel very willing and ready and impatient.

But soon enough Aziraphale found himself being rolled over onto his stomach, lying with his face pressed into a soft pillow, his body prone on the bed. And when Crowley pressed their bodies together, laying flush all along him from behind, he immediately knew he was going to enjoy wherever this was going, and he shivered pleasantly, smiling as Crowley began kissing the back of his neck and then down along his spine. As the kisses trailed even lower, Aziraphale felt Crowley nudging his legs apart and he dazedly mumbled that Crowley was insatiable. To his comment, Crowley's smug response was to growl,

"I'm a demon. I'm allowed." into the dip of his lower back.

And Aziraphale didn't have any objections to that, nor did he have a coherent response, only managing to moan and stutter out his sounds of pleasure, clenching his hands into the pillow under his head as Crowley used his adept tongue to introduce him to the other kind of oral sex.

---

Aziraphale still didn't end up sleeping, but Crowley eventually did, drifting off some time after dawn, his lovely yellow eyes slipping closed and his consciousness falling quiet.

---

The last thing Crowley recalled before falling asleep was that he'd been lying beside Aziraphale in his bed, the silk covers haphazardly pulled up to cover their naked lower halves as they lay on their sides, close together and facing each other, their knees, ankles and feet brushing under the covers occasionally. Aziraphale had been propped up a little higher than him, resting his shoulder against a large fluffy continental pillow, his head leaned against the cushioned headboard, and his Angel had been playing with his hair where his own head had been on a lower propped pillow, his free arm loosely draped over Aziraphale's hip.

They'd been talking about nothing and everything. One conversation had flowed into the next, from important topics like the Metatron's possible intentions and what the former antichrist was possibly up to, to how Crowley had gone through a 'phase' in the 1970s where he'd spent weeks watching and rewatching action and crime films like Godfather, Dirty Harry and MadMax, and how he still occasionally randomly quoted the movies, sometimes in bad accents.

He'd been so comfortable lying with Aziraphale that way, so content just being in his Angel's presence, both angelic and human, that he'd drifted off to sleep peacefully for the first time in the last three years, thinking of how their auras merged so perfectly and how much he'd missed Aziraphale.

---

He'd fallen asleep with that pleasant thought, and presently he woke up abruptly, his eyes snapping open without any trace of sleep, the vividness of an unpleasant memory playing out in his subconscious having wrenched him from sleep. He wasn't breathing or blinking as he lay there, the brightness of his bedroom not registering as the words; 'Everything ends, time and the world is over, and we begin eternity, forever and ever, Amen.' went around in his mind with a deafening echo.

The kicker was that it wasn't Michael's voice saying those words, it was Aziraphale's.

Crowley continued to lay there, unmoving even as the echo faded out to silence, his mind refocusing instead on his surroundings, like the fact that the bright sun of a fully dawned day was lighting up his bedroom. He instinctively knew he was alone in the bed though, so he still didn't move, he just mentally took stock of himself. He was lying on his back, close to the middle of the bed, so basically where he'd fallen asleep the night before. And he was totally naked, the sheet barely covering him and what was left of the bedding on the bed was a complete mess around him. He blinked then, once quickly, before turning his head to where Aziraphale had been when he'd fallen asleep and...yep, he was alone.

Crowley opened his mouth to call out for Aziraphale, but then he paused, and didn't. Instead, he slowly closed his mouth and swallowed down the small swell of painful panic that flared up in his chest. He sat up abruptly then, breathing again, and doing so intentionally deep and slow to calm himself. He assumed Aziraphale was already gone, maybe he'd had to leave in a hurry. Crowley had known his visit was time sensitive, he'd mentioned as much. But maybe he'd be back soon, or...maybe not so soon. Who knew?

Now he was just left with the aftermath of what had happened between them the night before...a lot had happened the night before, and he knew it'd all been real. He'd know it was real even if it wasn't for the fact that the room was still a mess of their stripped clothing and the bed being in the state it was from two human forms rolling around all over it. There were also lingering red marks from nails, bruising fingertips and even a few kisses, from when Aziraphale had decided he'd wanted to try giving him a hickey. Turns out Aziraphale liked it, so he'd made a few more. Crowley hadn't minded in the least, and the proof of these things on his skin was good and grounding. But the good also came with the bad. Those things being real, the sex, their confessions and conversations, meant that, yes, Aziraphale hadn't actually chosen Heaven over him, but that the angel still had to return to Heaven and act like nothing had happened between them. And it meant that he had to continue going to Hell, where he'd have to be more involved with Armageddon 2.0 to gather 'intel', and of course...right, it was very real that he'd agreed to help Aziraphale stop the next apocalypse.

It was all going to be very messy, much messier than he cared for, but he'd agreed to it, and he'd absolutely do it for his Angel, even though he knew being more involved in Hell's counterplans would draw Lu-...Satan's attention to him much faster. No matter how he looked at that latter point, he knew it would not be a good thing. He also knew the Metatron probably didn't trust Aziraphale much to start with, which meant the angel was in a very precarious position no matter what his 'plans' were. And even though he knew that the likelihood of both of them ending up destroyed, for really real, was very, very high. He'd still agreed. And of course he did, he couldn't say no to Aziraphale, he'd never leave him to face such a disaster on his own. He loved him. He loved his Angel completely. And he'd love him right to the very end, whatever that end would be.

Crowley sighed loudly and sat a moment longer, swallowing down the scream of anger and anxiety building in his chest from the onslaught of good and bad emotions he felt regarding what the future held for him and Aziraphale. It was too late now to change anything though, it was always too late.

A few breaths later, resignation began to settle in, as it did when one could not change their circumstances, and feeling marginally calmer, Crowley glanced around the room again. He tracked his eyes over Aziraphale's clothes, which were still scattered on the floor, one item barely hanging onto the arm of the chair in the corner. But as he considered the angel's clothes, a new concern bloomed in his chest. Why hadn't Aziraphale gotten dressed before he went back to Heaven? Or had he just miracled up new clothes altogether? Had he decided to leave the others behind? But why? Aziraphale didn't like changing his clothes on a whim. Heaven had restored his clothes to newness, but technically, they'd still been his old choice of clothes. It didn't make sense, it made no sense at all, and it made Crowley worried. It made him worry about whether he was wrong about Aziraphale's reason for being gone. Maybe the angel hadn't had time to get dressed, because maybe...had something happened? Had, had...no, it wasn't, he couldn't...had Aziraphale fallen? Had he possibly been dragged down?

Crowley's mind started to race through that horrifying possibility, and he was just about to scramble out of bed and miracle himself dressed so he could go down to Hell...when he heard a sound outside his bedroom. And oh...yeah, his sliding doors were all wide open. The sunshine coming into the room was from the large windows in the plant atrium. He'd closed the doors the night before, which was something he didn't usually do when he slept, so he'd overlooked them being open when he woke up. But if they were opened, that meant Aziraphale had opened them, so he'd left the room. So, he was in the flat? Was he still there!? Crowley hoped.

He pushed the silk cover off himself and swung his legs to the side, sliding off the bed to stand, and with an absent but purposeful snap of his fingers, he was wearing a black silk pajama pants and striding around the bed toward the doors.

As he stepped out of his room, squinting his eyes against the bright sunlight, Crowley glanced left down the hall to where the statue was, as well as the open doors of the guest bathroom and kitchen of the flat, before turning to look through the opened rotating door into his throne room...and there he saw Aziraphale.

To say he was flooded with relief and happiness would not be wrong, but he managed to keep those embarrassing emotions down to just a brief smile and a few clenches and releases of his hands. And once he felt like he'd reeled in his emotional reaction, Crowley stood up straight and then he proceeded to walk toward the throne room, his bare feet not making a sound on the tile. He slowed down though, just inside the rotating door, wanting a moment to take in what he was seeing...

Aziraphale was wearing a dark red cashmere robe that looked very, very much like one of his own. Except on him, it was a size too large and the length hung just past his knees. But on Aziraphale, who had a fuller body but was shorter and slighter in stature to begin with, it fit him...well, Crowley realized there was definitely something to be said for humans liking their partners to wear their clothes. Their partners. Was Aziraphale his partner now? It was official, wasn't it? He smiled again, but did his best to keep it under control even though Aziraphale wasn't facing him, couldn't see him grinning like an idiot.

There was a clinking sound then, and Crowley realized Aziraphale, whose back was facing him since the angel was watching the news on the TV, was holding a cup and stirring something in it. And wasn't that something? The morning after consummating their six-thousand-year relationship, and here he was, looking at his Angel, who was wearing one of his own robes, standing with correct posture, his bare feet close together and toes twiddling on the cool tiles as he sipped coffee that Crowley forgot he'd had, from dishware Crowley was sure he'd never used. It was the best feeling, and Crowley wasn't breathing as he realized with a burn in his nose and behind his eyes, that this was what Beelzebub and Gabriel had meant by saying that where the other was, was their Heaven and Hell...their home.

If only it wasn't all so complicated for him and Aziraphale, if only there weren't so many obstacles, so many problems. Beelzebub and Gabriel had really just run off, they just went and did what he'd always wanted to do with his Angel, and they'd made it look so easy.

He thought then of Nina, and how even she'd decided to stop wasting time and take a chance on Maggie, and she'd made that change in decision sound so easy too. But what was it that she'd said to him years ago? Ah, yes, those words that'd struck the first chord in him, the words which forced him to face how obvious his feelings for Aziraphale had always been. She'd said; 'Other people's love lives always seem so much more straightforward than our own'.

That felt painfully true right then, especially because he knew after Aziraphale left to go back to Heaven, he couldn't even be sure how long it'd be before he'd see his Angel again.

It wasn't bloody fair! Even other beings who weren't technically people had made eloping to another place in the galaxy seem like it was a cinch! Although, in the grand scheme of things, humans had it the easiest because they could just go on dates and give each other roses and chocolates and play songs to set the mood when they wanted to kiss each other. So uncomplicated.

Crowley was still staring at Aziraphale when the memory of Nina telling him about Maggie playing a song to initiate a kiss, led to his subconscious manifesting music in the moment. And that in itself wasn't surprising, it wasn't the first time his mood or thoughts had unintentionally caused music to manifest where there shouldn't be, or for music to change to suit him in a place if he didn't like what he was hearing. It had even happened a few times in the bookshop in the past, when he and Aziraphale would be drinking late in the night and he'd get annoyed with listening to Shubert or Vivaldi, which would lead to the gramophone doing him a favour by playing Queen or Bowie.

But what happened right then was just downright embarrassing, not unlike the time the Bentley had played Beyonce's song Halo, because when the sound of the news cut off, the song that started playing through the TV speakers was the same song Nina had said Maggie used! That cheesy rom com Kiss Me song!

Crowley froze, eyes widening as he watched Aziraphale pause in taking a sip from his cup, clearly looking at the screen still running news while the sound coming out of the speakers was totally wrong. And it seemed he was actually listening to the song at first, even tilting his head when the singing started, but after about a minute, Aziraphale turned just so to the side, the angel obviously realizing he was there, and would know he was responsible for the music. So, the second the angel started to turn around Crowley unfroze, sharply clicking his tongue so the TV turned off altogether and cast them into the normal quiet of the day. Aziraphale had turned completely to face him then, and the angel blinked round eyes at him from across the short distance between them, but he was smiling in a knowing way, and Crowley could only try not to be too obviously annoyed by his own transparency.

He wasn't too successful though, since when Aziraphale asked,

"How long have you been standing there?" all he managed to do was make a 'whatever, doesn't matter' expression, trying and failing to play off that he'd been getting lost in thoughts about love and kissing while looking at Aziraphale. Said angel just smiled wider then, in his lovely, happy way and huffed a small laugh, "You might have said good morning, so I'd have realized you were there sooner." and Crowley was relieved that he mercifully didn't tease him about the song, his Angel just walking over to the desk to set the coffee cup down.

Crowley raised his eyebrows and glanced around nonchalantly before looking at Aziraphale again and none too smoothly changing the subject, asking,

"Been up a while?" as he once again tracked his eyes over Aziraphale in his robe, and of course he noticed the kiss bruises marking his Angel's neck –would sadly have to miracle those away before he went back to Heaven-, but he also noticed that Aziraphale's white blonde hair looked fluffy, as if it'd been wet and had air dried. Odd, hadn't he miracled himself clean?

Crowley himself hadn't done so yet, which was why he felt self-conscious for a moment when he noticed Aziraphale also looking at him quite attentively, but it seemed he was specifically looking at his bare torso. Or rather, admiring it.

They'd both noticed the other looking though, and Aziraphale was the first to break, saying,

"Oh, yes, sorry about this," gesturing to the cashmere robe he wore that he was very probably naked undernea-, "Since coming to Earth, I've been trying to use miracles sparingly to avoid notice, you know, since in Heaven they only really pay attention to the bigger miracles." he was explaining, hands gesturing, "But last night, in my haste to follow you, I miracled myself all the way here from Victoria and so I'm a little worried someone might have noticed it, and so too, my absence." he looked a little frowny about that, running his hands over the smooth material on his arms, starting to fidget. "So I thought it best not to use any more miracles at all while I'm here, so even if they now know I'm on Earth, they won't know exactly where," Crowley facially shrugged in agreement, but his gaze was wandering, mind still on the whole Aziraphale being naked under the robe thing, "and even if they suspect I'm here, your flat is technically Hell's jurisdiction, so they won't just send anyone here to check on me, which gives me time to come up with a good excuse for being here." he didn't sound like he thought he'd manage that, but Crowley decided to be conveniently optimistic,

"Oh, I doubt they've noticed, Angel, s'barely two miles." he said with a smirk, starting to approach,

"Well, yes, the distance wasn't too great, but just to be careful, I took a shower to clean up, but then it felt too odd to put my strewn about clothes back on, and your wardrobe only had a few items of sleepwear and housewear to choose from," Crowley tutted once, fondly thinking 'My fussy Angel.', "so perhaps you could, uh," Crowley had reached Aziraphale just then, "perhaps, you, my, my clothes, a, um, a miracle-,"

"Sure." he responded flippantly, then added, "Later."

He casually stepped right into Aziraphale's personal space, because he could do that now, and easily crowded him against the marble desk's edge, closing the gap between their bodies, pressing against him and leaning in close, really close, close enough to kiss.

"Later." Aziraphale repeated softly, not seeming to mind at all that Crowley was interested in other things. In fact, he was smiling softly, face flushing just a bit, his eyes already giving away that he was thinking the very same thing because Aziraphale had glanced at his mouth twice within the few seconds it took to bracket him with his arms against the desk.

"Hm, and s'no problem about the robe either," he mumbled a reassurance, but only so that he could say, "except..." trailing off and tilting his head, touching the tip of his nose to Aziraphale's, who looked quite anticipatory but still frowned a bit when he asked,

"Except?"

Crowley had known he'd ask, and he made sure to look pointedly down at their aligned bodies while pressing a little closer against his soft Angel,

"Well, I mean, there's jus' one problem."

"Which is?" Aziraphale asked with a bit less patience, clearly distracted and continuing to glance at his mouth, so Crowley smiled for him, all teeth, and said,

"Which is, that right now, I'd much rather take it off you." and he wasn't sure if his human-esque flirting would work on Aziraphale, but he hoped for the best. And it seemed to land well, because Aziraphale couldn't hold back a coy smile, his ears so red it was adorable. Yet he wasn't to be outdone, saying,

"Well, I suppose it is yours to do with as you like."

Yep, Crowley felt that comment arouse him instantly.

Voice lower and gruffer from the sudden shot of arousal, Crowley simply had to ask,

"Are we talking about the robe, or you, Angel?" still smiling and staying just out of kissing reach, and just as he loved, the perfectly balanced bastard side of his Angel came out when Aziraphale gave him a sexily stern look and in a slightly admonishing tone he said,

"I think you know perfectly well which I mean."

That was all Crowley needed to hear to ditch the suave, teasing act, and caving like the lovestruck idiot he was, he nodded obediently,

"Right, yes, I do, absolutely. So, when do you have to leave?" he asked then, letting up just enough space between them to trail his fingers down to the tie of the robe, unfastening it.

Aziraphale's hands immediately came to settle on his bare chest, as if he'd just been waiting to touch,

"I- I don't," robe open, and bingo, naked Angel, "I'm not s-sure, I-, oh...well, I..." Crowley was grinning again as he stepped back to lower himself to his knees before his stuttering Angel.

Looking up at the brightly blushing love of his existence, he said,

"Gimme' the day, Angel, it's not nearly enough," he admitted, sliding his hands up the backs of Aziraphale's thighs as he added, "but I'll take it." still looking up at Aziraphale, who was looking down at him, those blue eyes half-lidded and already somewhat dazed. The angel was also breathing heavier already, and he seemed quite affected, at a bit of a loss for words, so Crowley didn't wait for an answer.

Not wanting to waste any time, he dropped his gaze and he leaned in, and the angel's hands quickly found their way into his hair, something they both quite enjoyed. Aziraphale did speak then, but he only managed to stutter out,

"A, ah, a day, I- I... oh...yes...ye-, al-alright...yes ..."

But it was fine, because Crowley got the gist of it. It was yes.

---

HELL

---

THREE WEEKS LATER

Crowley was sitting in the chair behind the desk of the office Shax usually used, leaning back with his legs up and booted feet crossed on the corner of the desk. He was slouched low in the chair, head turned to the side where he was watching through a window as the damned were lining up to go down the flumes one after the other, to begin their respective eternal punishment sentences. Needless to say, he was bored. He'd arrived about an hour earlier, and he was waiting for Shax to show up so he could finally get the ball of 'Thwarting Armageddon 2.0' rolling. On his side at least.

Aziraphale was way ahead of him. He'd realized that when the Angel had eventually gotten around to telling him about his plans. That day with the robe, after they'd made good use of his desk...and chair, Crowley had miracled up a substantial delivery for lunch from a restaurant that didn't technically deliver, but Aziraphale had said he was in the mood for Mediterranean and since he hadn't been able to enjoy food for three years, Crowley had been more than happy to oblige. While eating, well, mostly Aziraphale eating and Crowley nibbling on a calamari ring in between sips of red wine, they'd talked at length and Aziraphale had told him as much detail as possible about what he knew and what he'd been planning. And the plans were really good. They'd be far better prepared to stop the apocalypse this time around, that was for sure. Crowley had been impressed, and very in love. The first feeling he'd expressed to Aziraphale with words of course, but the latter he'd used other ways, so many other ways, creatively and enthusiastically, and as many times as he could before his Angel had to leave him again.

Aziraphale had actually ended up staying for a full day, like he'd said 'yes' to, and then almost nine additional hours longer than that. Crowley had been pathetically counting as he waited for Aziraphale to say the dreaded words of 'I have to go back.' But he'd had to, and Crowley understood that, just as three weeks later, he was back in Hell, because he had to be. But every moment since Aziraphale had been gone, Crowley had been itching with frustration for something, anything to do, to keep him from driving to Soho and commandeering Muriel, to make them take him up to Heaven again. That would have been bad, because if he did go up there again, he really would go off in their little Heavenly hive like a fucking murder hornet. Having been with Aziraphale again for such a short time after so long apart, and after they'd finally become an 'us', properly and officially and with consummation almost literally all over the flat –the memory made him smirk to himself even right then- Crowley had not been ready for how difficult it was being apart again. He was wound up so fucking tightly with stress and worry and anger and impatience and horniness, that last one being entirely new to him and quite a doozy, and he'd been going crazy waiting to get back down to Hell, so he could offer up his idle hands to the Devil, literally, as it were.

But he'd had to wait for the normalish amount of time to pass before he decided to return to Hell, otherwise, if he'd suddenly seemed very eager to be there, it'd be out of character. Worse still, if Aziraphale's absence had been noticed in Heaven, and those back channels –fucking Michael- were communicating with Hell, then they'd already be suspicious and there'd be more prob-

The metal door to the office opened with a miserable, grinding shriek when Shax walked in, or actually, more like stormed in, looking like they were having a very bad day.

Not particularly interested one way or another, Crowley was just glad they'd finally showed up,

"Alright, Shax." he said, by way of greeting.

Shax wasn't surprised to see him there, even as they hadn't initially noticed him, but when Shax did notice him, they threw the box full of files they were carrying down onto the filthy floor and hissed out,

"Not alright." Crowley just raised his eyebrows, supposing it was to be expected that Shax didn't realize he'd been greeting, not asking about how they were, "Every time they disobey me," Shax sounded both terribly calm and terribly furious, standing and glaring off to the side, "I want to slowly peel their skin from their bodies, strip by bloody strip," Crowley leaned his head back on the chair, curiously listening, "and then I want to wrap it back around them tightly before running them through with a jagged skewer," he almost smiled, eyebrows and lips twitching, "and then, put them on a spit and slowly roast them over Hell fire, cooking them slowly and painfully for hours." Shax's eyes widened briefly, then narrowed when they added, "Before feeding them to the Hellhounds." they finished dragging out the 's' a little through their bared serrated teeth.

A beat of silence passed in which Crowley blinked sedately, and then he lazily nodded at Shax and mumbled,

"That's uhm, I mean, that's, it's, s'actually not, not a bad idea." it occurred to him as he thought about it, deciding to tell Shax honestly. They turned their head to look at him then, asking,

"What do you mean?"

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged facially as he gestured to the window beside him, to where the damned were being lined up outside,

"I mean, as a punishment for the damned. You should put that in the suggestion box." he advised. And unlike in Heaven, the suggestion box in Hell was a thing, because unlike God, Satan had liked the idea of a suggestion box. It kept the demons motivated, always striving to come up with cruel and interesting ways to make Hell more...Hellish.

Shax seemed to consider what he said, eyes darting from left to right before they looked at him again,
"You think so?" they asked, sounding curious and mistrustful, but also a little pleased with themself.

Crowley mustered up enough interest to nod once,

"Yea', s'very creative." he mumbled, glancing at the window, and just then he saw a dead human who looked familiar and he pointed, "Hey, I think I know that guy." then he dropped his arm back to the armrest and tilted his head, "...or well, knew him, I guess," he looked away, lolled his head boredly, "S'dead now." he added pointlessly.

Shax was staring at him, their lips turning down when they asked,

"Should I say, thank you," sounding nauseous, "for the advi-"

"Ugh , what- no," he didn't even look at them, just made a face, "nono, don't, don't do that." and he felt vaguely sick himself, just thinking of a demon thanking him for something was weird.

A beat of awkward silence passed then, but when Shax said,

"Crowley." next time, it was in that way of theirs, like they almost over pronounced it while trying to sound more serious, and it piqued his curiosity. But he just kept watching the guy who looked familiar get closer and closer to the flume, only acknowledging the other demon with a,

"Hm?"

Shax was quick to follow up with,

"Do you think, this time while you're here...could you, help me with some, other things." and he took note of Shax's tone of voice, also aware of them walking closer, their low heels clicking softly until he could see them out of his periphery through his glasses, standing closer, just across the cluttered, messy desk from him. "With something's besides the usual, stuff." a pause, then Shax's voice dropped lower, "The Dark Council and I are drafting a new, major counterplan against Heaven, it's all going to go down on Earth, and your knowledge about," they blinked, "Earth, would be...invaluable."

And that was exactly what he needed to hear. After Aziraphale had caught him up on the Second Coming's updated plans, which had definitely changed quite a bit since he'd first watched the Archangels discuss it, and then his Angel had caught him up on his own plans, Crowley had realized he hadn't been able to chip in with anything useful at all, not having much to offer from Hell's side. So, right then, with Shax offering him an in to the plans the Dark Council were cooking up, it was just perfect. He knew he had to play it cool and indifferent though, he couldn't let them see that they'd just offered him what he wanted on a silver platter. He also had to keep in mind that Shax might be making the offer for some ulterior reason, like maybe they knew something. He had to tread carefully.

So he sat for a further moment, just staring out of the window, and then he remembered who the human guy was, and to stall, just to keep Shax waiting a bit longer, he decided to tell her,

"Right, I remember him, he's one of the regular shady types who often hung around Saint James Park." and he said it with a small smirk, knowing it would irritate Shax. It did, Shax sighing loudly and shifting to turn away, and that was when Crowley answered with, "Tell you wot'," they stopped, "why don't you show me what's on the agenda, and I'll let you know." he turned his head to look at the other demon then, who was staring at him, so he raised his eyebrows and shrugged, adding, "I don't have anything else going on right now, maybe I can help you with these other things." saying what Shax was hoping to hear. And when they grinned at him with serrated teeth, probably thinking they were wearing him down to taking Beelzebub's place or something else nefarious, Crowley knew he was in.

"Excellent." Shax raised a hand up and one of the black files from the box appeared in their grasp, the other demon going straight to business as if they'd just been waiting for the opportunity, "So, shall we start on the topic of Jesus Christ." Shax suggested directly. And for a moment Crowley just stared from behind his glasses, because this was it, this was about to be him essentially putting himself on Satan's radar, and why?

Well, he was taking that risk for the sake of himself and Aziraphale. When he thought about waking up to more days of his Angel being there with him all the time, whether it was in bed together or just in the same living space, and when thinking of Aziraphale's pale skin peppered with marks from his kisses, nipping teeth and eager groping hands after a night of satisfying one another in all the ways they could, and thinking of his Angel looking so happy to be with him. Thinking of being able to talk late into the night about whatever they wanted, to be able to go out together, travel together, to drink together and to eat and laugh and flirt and live their lives together. To be able to just freely be in love. Why?

Obviously, when he thought of even the slightest possibility of having all that with Aziraphale, for an eternity of their own, his answer was plain and simple.

Crowley slowly smiled at Shax, all teeth bared in his trademark grin, thinking 'Why?' and answering,

"Sure, why the Hell not?"

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