As it turned out Aziraphale was quite skilled at fishing.

Though he didn't approach fishing in the same way that Crowley would have; with a rod, line and hook. Instead he stood knee deep in the river and waited with the patience of a saint for the fish – some kind of trout Crowley thought - to swim by. It was incredible to watch, his reflexes were like lightning as his hands dashed into the water and grasped the fish, sharp claws spearing the slippery creature, stopping it from wriggling free.

It didn't take long for there to be two trout lying on the river bank, which were carried back to the cabin well before the sun had set. A pocket knife was pulled from Aziraphale's stash of kitchen wares, and used to gut the fish – another thing that Aziraphale was skilled at. The troll had said that he used to use his claws, but someone was kind enough to leave their knife behind a good few years ago. That method was much nicer since he didn't have so much fish guts in his claws, and Crowley had to agree that he wouldn't want anything like that under his nails either.

Once the insides of the fish had been cleaned out and set aside in a battered plastic tub, Aziraphale procured some of the dried herbs from the cabin and stuffed them inside the empty cavity, closing it up by threading short twigs through the belly like needles. Though they smelt lemony, Crowley had no idea what the herbs were, but he was assured that it would make the trout taste even better, and he didn't doubt it. After that was done, Aziraphale picked out two long, thin sticks from his wood pile next to the cabin, and impaled the fish from mouth to tail on the end of each one, then stuck them in the ground over the fire pit.

"You have a bunch of pots and pans, why not cook the fish in that?" Crowley had inquired curiously.

Without pausing in what he was doing, Aziraphale answered, "I can't get the temperature right, so it cooks unevenly, part of the fish is dry and tasteless, the other part isn't cooked, and I can't say I'm fond of either. It may be a bit primitive but it works. Plus this kind of wood gives it a smoky flavour that I quite enjoy."

"You could have a cooking show, 'Aziraphale's Forest Flavours'," Crowley joked, slightly unprepared for such a thorough response, but pretty impressed at the same time.

"I'm afraid that you would be my only audience all the way out here."

"I wouldn't mind a little one on one lesson with the chef," he flirted, accompanied by a wink at the end.

The troll had giggled, blushed, and fondly rolled his eyes before carrying on with the next task.

Crowley felt a bit useless if he was honest, he'd never been camping before, nor was he was very good cook, sure he could do the basics, but everything Aziraphale did he made look effortless. However, as it turned out, there was one thing that he was able to help with. Watching Aziraphale attempting to light the fire, Crowley told him that there was an easier way than banging two rocks together, and he hurried off to his bag to grab his lighter. He'd known that it would come in handy one day, just like the lube. The troll had marvelled at the ease with which the fire was lit, one click for instant fire sure as hell beat stuffing around with getting rocks to spark.

"Keep it," Crowley had told him, already planning to bring him a whole stash to make his life easier.

Once the fire was steady, and the fish sticks had been adjusted, Crowley was left in charge of making sure that the fish didn't burn while Aziraphale went to collect some other bits and pieces to eat with it. The warm, yellow glow from the fire was soft and cosy as the sun completely set, leaving them with only the faint white wash of the moon and stars through the leaves of the canopy.

The noises of the forest nightlife seemed to grow louder in Aziraphale's absence, and Crowley suddenly found himself nonplussed that he was there in the forest, at night, letting Aziraphale, a troll, cook him dinner after they'd had sex in his nest. That was his life now it seemed, of course he still had his flat, car, and plants, not to mention a job, but that part of his life felt more empty and meaningless than ever. This part, here in the forest with Aziraphale, was what fulfilled him, made him feel, and oh, he felt a great many things. There was wonder, and joy, and desire in his life again, a fire in his chest, and a spring in his step.

Crowley was brought back from his thoughts by a rustling nearby, which he hoped was Aziraphale, and not some other creature, he hadn't been gone all that long but who knew what else lurked in the forest. Thankfully, a few moments later his troll came trotting into the clearing, the firelight bathing him in a golden yellow that made him appear as angelic as ever.

Upon seeing Aziraphale, Crowley had left the log he'd been perched on, and gone to inspect what he'd collected, stealing a kiss or two at the same time. The troll had come back laden with a metal bowl brimming with sprouts, brown, flat topped mushrooms, tiny white and pink flowers, blackberries, some kind of beans, and something purple and roundish like a beetroot.

It was fascinating to see how he used the ingredients the forest had to give to make a meal. Crowley had witnessed Aziraphale eat all kinds of things over the weeks since he'd met the troll, most of it didn't look half bad either, and according to Aziraphale, tasted even better. The flowers and berries were for dessert, apparently the flowers were very sweet, Crowley wasn't sure about eating them, but Aziraphale insisted he at least tried one, so he would. The mushrooms, beans and sprouts created a little salad together, while the purple vegetable was smashed up into a thick paste to go with the fish.

When Aziraphale deemed everything ready, he set out two hard plastic plates and divvied up the food between them. He handed Crowley a plate, and sat on the ground with his back against the log, tail curling loosely around the human's calf.

"Thanks, Angel, I couldn't tell you the last time someone cooked for me without me paying them."

"It's no problem, and I'm happy to cook for you anytime you like, my dear, no payment required."

Looking at the plate of food he was given, Crowley noticed that the purple paste had been smeared across the white flesh of the fish, steam rising through it. He was a little dubious about it if he was honest, but he'd give it a go, especially after all the effort gone into preparing the meal. Crowley was just about to ask if the troll possibly had a fork, but as he glanced back at Aziraphale he saw that he had just started to tuck in with only his fingers, pinching the meat between thumb and forefinger and bringing it up to his mouth, tongue flicking the tips of his fingers as he pulled them away.

It was stupidly erotic the way Aziraphale ate, and along with the noises he produced while consuming said food, had made Crowley hard on more than one occasion. Fuck it, he decided, then picked up some fish in his fingers and popped it straight into his mouth, letting the flavours descend over his palate.

Holy shit.

Amber eyes widened in surprise and delight, "Oh my god, Aziraphale, this is amazing!" he exclaimed, "I think you might've been a chef in a past life."

Aziraphale bumped Crowley's knee with his shoulder appreciatively, "Aw, well, thank you," he smiled graciously. "Oh, I don't know about that, I just very much enjoy eating, and I've had a long time to get flavours right, and to learn what's available to me. The forest hasn't changed a great deal in my life, and I know it well, I know what grows where and when, and I only take what I need there and then."

"You've accomplished a lot in a few decades," Crowley acknowledged, thinking about the range of skills Aziraphale had, not to mention his vast collection of books, and everything else he had scavenged over the years.

Aziraphale looked up at him, finished his mouthful of food, and imparted, "I'm older than I look, Crowley, a lot older."

"Oh, sorry, I suppose I shouldn't have assumed, um, how old are you?"

"Honestly, I couldn't say," Aziraphale glumly admitted to his plate, "I lost count of the seasons after a while, things like that seem far less important when you're alone."

"You're not alone anymore, you have me," Crowley conveyed unequivocally, stroking the back of his hand against Aziraphale's cheek.

"That's very sweet, dear," Aziraphale sighed, nuzzling into Crowley's palm, "and while I'm inexplicably grateful for you, unfortunately, it does seem likely that I will outlive you, and be alone again eventually."

A dissatisfied look crossed Crowley's face, however Aziraphale was correct, and there wasn't really much that either of them could do about it besides make the most of what time they had together.

"Hm, so trolls age slowly I guess?"

Aziraphale nodded, spearing a bean on his nail, "Very slowly it would seem."

The mood had lightened again by the time they'd finished eating dinner and moved on to dessert, Crowley had also relocated from the log to sit next to the troll on the ground. The blackberries were divine, so much more juicier and flavoursome then anything store bought, and coupled with the flowers, it was the perfect little sweet snack after dinner.

Even better still, when they ran out of flowers, they fed the leftover berries to each other – smitten, who? - and Crowley ended up with blackberry juice all over his fingers. Aziraphale selflessly volunteered to clean up the mess…with his tongue. Taking Crowley's hand rapturously in both of his, the troll licked diligently up each finger, then between them, collecting the juice on his tongue, all the while gazing directly into Crowley's eyes. However, he wasn't finished there, see Crowley's finger tips were also stained, and that required each digit to be sucked into Aziraphale's warm mouth one at a time, and lavished with wet tongue until they were all clean. By the end Crowley was a bit dazed and breathy, with his cock more than a little interested in his jeans.

"Oh, you've got some on your face too," Aziraphale pointed out innocently, and gently put down Crowley now clean hand, "…here…"

Climbing into Crowley's lap and straddling him, Aziraphale once again used his tongue, lapping at Crowley's chin, and then the corner of his mouth. Little flicks across his lips were all that Crowley could take before pulling Aziraphale in tighter against him and capturing his mouth in a fervent kiss.

Before long Crowley became aware of something long and hard pressed against his stomach, accompanied by little grunts coming from Aziraphale. He would call the troll insatiable, but if he was then they both were, because Crowley simply couldn't get enough of Aziraphale either. There was a deep want, a need, a craving only satisfied when he was with Aziraphale. Perhaps insatiable was grossly understating what was going on between them, but apt nevertheless.

Aziraphale's fingers were weaved in his hair holding their heads close, while Crowley's gripped the troll's buttocks, digging his fingers in, and pulling his lower half in against him, helping him to grind his erection against Crowley's stomach. This of course meant that Aziraphale was rolling his hips in a way that not only helped to get himself off, but also rubbed his backside down on the tent in Crowley's pants.

"Little minx," Crowley babbled fondly, eyelids fluttering momentarily, "god, everything you do just makes me want you more."

"Mmnn, Crowley," Aziraphale moaned, smooshing his face into the bend of Crowley's neck and shoulder to suck the skin into a bruise.

"Ngk!"

His body jerked as it coursed with pleasure, and fuck he was going to come in his jeans at the rate they were going. A little niggle in his brain reminded him that he needed to wear those clothes home the next day though.

"Shit, hang on, lift up," he instructed, tapping Aziraphale's hip.

Aziraphale looked confused as he paused in rocking against Crowley, but did as requested and lifted himself up on his knees.

"Don't go anywhere, I just need to-" he quickly unzipped his jeans, not having bothered with his belt earlier, and reefed them as open as possible, his stiff cock springing out. Secondly he gripped the back of his collar and yanked his shirt over his head, letting it fall wherever behind him, likely draped over the log, but that wasn't of any concern to him at that moment. His attention was immediately back to Aziraphale after that, "Alright, come back here, you gorgeous thing."

Crowley gripped his chin in one hand, and hip in the other, drawing him back down into his lap with an ardent kiss. Aziraphale slid up as close as possible, and Crowley felt his lover's hot, slick length on his stomach, while his own cock slid along the crevice of plush ass cheeks.

"Hnnngg," his fingers clutched at the soft flesh spreading them apart to allow his cock to push further between them.

"Mmmnn," Aziraphale whimpered, spreading his legs wider and letting himself sit heavier against Crowley, basically trapping his cock between their bodies.

That made it a little more difficult for Crowley to move, but it didn't matter when Aziraphale started vigorously rocking against him. The troll used his tail to help him with extra balance and momentum so he could rut against Crowley's stomach while also giving Crowley the friction he desperately desired.

"Fuck," Crowley panted, cock throbbing with pleasure, absolutely lust drunk – lust of the heart, and cock, which he was trying really hard to deny the real four letter word for - "you might be the best thing to ever happen to me," he gushed.

Aziraphale's mouth found his, claiming it in a hungry kiss, full of quick breaths, and needy moans. Not ready for the kiss to end so quickly, Crowley made to follow Aziraphale's mouth, only to have the hand in his hair tighten, forcing his head back while Aziraphale damn near mauled his throat. The combination sent a spike of pleasure directly down his spine to his cock, and he very nearly came with a debauched cry, hips bucking up sharply.

"Again," Crowley rasped, swallowing drily, "please, do it again," he was desperate to come now, riding on the edge of ecstasy, just needing that little push.

Aziraphale loosened his grip enough to allow Crowley to move his head again, his other hand dragged sharp nails lightly across Crowley's collarbone and down his chest.

"Mmmmffff, Azzzziraphale…" he whined, thinking that the troll was holding out on him, when in reality he was merely riling up the human further.

The next moment Crowley was a mess of thoughts, half formed words, gratified moans, and come as his orgasm shook him to the core. Aziraphale had cleverly caught one of Crowley's nipples between thumb and forefinger, pinching it deliciously hard, while at the exact same time, he pulled tightly on Crowley's auburn locks again.

Barely a few moments later, Crowley felt Aziraphale shake and stutter against him, shoving his face into Crowley's shoulder as he painted their stomachs, a guttural growl rumbling in his throat. He then slumped against Crowley, and they held each other close while their breathing settled, just enjoying the warmth of the fire against their skin.

Some minutes later, Aziraphale was pressing delicate kisses to Crowley's collarbone when he murmured, "You might be the best thing to ever happen to me too, you know."

Oh, right, he'd said that, hadn't he? He was usually pretty good at keeping his real thoughts disconnected from his mouth during sex. It was out now though, and…was that really so bad?

Crowley pressed a lingering kiss to Aziraphale's hair, inhaling the comforting, familiar scent of the troll, and sighed contentedly. He didn't want to think about it now, he just wanted to be with Aziraphale while he could, those were thoughts and concerns to mull over when he was alone in his flat misting his plants, and missing his troll.

Crowley was pulled from his ruminations as Aziraphale shifted, slowly getting out of his lap and stretching as he stood, showing the mess that was drying in his belly fur. Clean up time. With a groan he followed suit, holding up his pants with one hand and also stretching once he was on his feet, shaking the leg that had gone to sleep in the meantime.

Water bottles full of water – which, for some reason, had surprised Crowley to learn earlier that the collection of bottles was being used for their purpose – were utilised to clean not only themselves but their dinner plates too. Crowley's shirt also needed to be spot washed so that he could wear it home the next day without a cock shaped come stain on the stomach. The shirt was hung somewhere inside to dry overnight by Aziraphale, while Crowley donned the thin hoodie he'd brought with him instead.

They sat back down together by the fire after that, connected from shoulders to knees, Aziraphale's head on Crowley's shoulder, his tail wrapped around Crowley's slim waist. Hands clasped, and fingers intertwined in Crowley's lap, they talked about everything and nothing until the flames were merely little flickers dancing on the broken down logs, and the shadows had closed in around them, only held back by the silver shine of the moon. At that point Aziraphale ducked into the cabin, and came back with a little pale yellow pyramid on a metal saucer, a piece of burnt string sticking out of the top.

"How the hell did you get a candle?" Crowley queried as he watched Aziraphale light it with the remnants of the fire.

"I made it," he proudly replied, and after a pause explained, "it's beeswax from the local beehives."

"Oh," that was pretty remarkable, "colour me impressed. Why do you need it though? I thought your night vision was fairly decent?"

"It is, however it is quite dark inside, and I enjoy reading in my nest," Aziraphale informed him, "also, your vision is not as keen as mine, so in this instance I thought you might need some light to find your way inside."

Crowley chuckled, "Yeah, you got me there. Should we turn in then?"

Aziraphale shook some dirt over the embers, killing the last of the red glow, and then took Crowley's hand, candle in the other, and led him inside to the bedroom. The candle was placed on a stack of books not far from the nest, and threw a surprising amount of light about the otherwise near pitch black room.

Rustling through his bag, Crowley realised that he hadn't given Aziraphale his new books yet, and pulled them from the depths.

"Book delivery, Angel," Crowley announced, turning to face Aziraphale, three novels in hand.

"Oooo!" Aziraphale squeaked, his fingers wriggling excitedly.

Handing them to the troll, Crowley grinned over Aziraphale's predictable, but nonetheless adorable, reaction. God, he was becoming such a sap. As Crowley started to disrobe down to his underwear for sleep, he listened to Aziraphale muttered the blurbs to himself, making little elated comments under his breath. When he stopped mid sentence, Crowley looked at the troll, thinking there was something amiss, instead he found that blue gaze already on him, raking over his nearly naked body, bottom lip between his front teeth. A smirk had set on Crowley's face by the time his eyes made it back up to meet honeyed ones, immediately after knowing that he was caught staring, Aziraphale cleared his throat and turned his focus back to the books in his hands.

Crowley laughed light-heartedly and stepped up to Aziraphale, running a hand through his pale hair and kissing his cheek.

"I think I'm going to read this one next," Aziraphale announced avidly, holding up one of the three new ones Crowley had brought him.

"Mmm. What one are you reading at the moment?" Crowley asked conversationally.

"Oh, this delightful little novel about an angel and a demon who are secretly working together to avert the apocalypse," Aziraphale relayed enthusiastically, "it's all very exciting, quite a charming read. I can't wait to see how it ends…I do hope they are able to be together once it's all over, they quite clearly desire it."

Crowley didn't care much about the stories, but he usually inquired about what the troll was reading anyway, because he loved to hear and watch Aziraphale animatedly talk about them. It made his insides warm and gooey to see his troll so happy.

"Ah, I'll be rooting for them then."

"Erm, speaking of, would you mind terribly if I read a little before going to sleep?" Aziraphale asked, putting his new books on top of an already tall pile.

"'Course I don't mind, as long as you don't mind being cuddled while you do so."

"I'd be disappointed if you didn't," Aziraphale smiled, picking up what Crowley assumed was his current read.

Crowley fell asleep quite quickly, curled around Aziraphale's back with the troll's long tail pressed against him, holding him close, and the tartan blanket pulled up to his chest. It was warm, comfortable, safe, absolutely perfect for a good night's sleep. Unfortunately, the problem was that he couldn't stay asleep. He didn't sleep well at all if he was honest, he wasn't used to the sounds of the forest at night, and they were surprisingly loud. Every time he'd just drifted off again, having grown accustomed to the rush of the river, or the buzzing of cicadas, a different noise would sound, startling him awake again. Meanwhile, Aziraphale slept soundly next to him, purring softly at irregular intervals, helping to lull Crowley back to sleep. He did manage a few hours before dawn, when the birds welcomed the sunrise with songs that seemed to carry through the entire forest.

Once the birds were awake though, Crowley couldn't get back to sleep, and once he'd decided he was done trying, his brain started to wake up too. That was when he became aware of how stiff he was, probably from lying in basically the same position all night. His jaw ached too, so did his tailbone, not to mention his forehead felt kind of fuzzy, like it was just waiting to turn into a headache, though all of that could likely be put down to sleeping – or rather, hardly sleeping – in a forest overnight.

Crowley was just considering how to move without waking up Aziraphale when the troll wriggled, his tail slipping out from behind Crowley. Using his new freedom to move, Crowley rolled onto his back and stretched, groaning internally as his joints popped. Then Aziraphale rolled over and Crowley was greeted with big, bright blue eyes, and the sweetest sleepy smile he'd ever seen.

"Good morning, my dear," he said cheerfully, snuggling back in close to Crowley.

"Mornin', Angel," Crowley replied, voice a little gruff from lack of sleep, and not reaching anywhere near the levels of joy as Aziraphale's. It also didn't help that he wasn't a morning person.

A frown replaced the smile, "You sound tired, darling."

Crowley put an arm around him, and pressed a kiss to his forehead, "Didn't get much sleep," he admitted.

"Oh, I'm sorry, was it…did I keep you up?"

"No, no, wasn't you at all, in fact you were helping, egh, just not used to sleeping here, the noises and stuff. Maybe I'll bring earplugs next time," he shrugged, it was just like getting used to sleeping in a new house.

The joy was obvious on Aziraphale's face, though he'd tried to school it, "I'm very glad to hear that you want to stay here with me again, despite your bad experience."

"Hey, no. It was one night of crappy sleep, not like I haven't had any of those before, everything else was pretty flippin' great, especially the sweet, sexy troll that lives here," he flirted, lightening the mood since he didn't want Aziraphale to feel bad, it was also true, but that was beside the point.

Aziraphale blushed and giggled, pawing Crowley's arm, and Crowley simply couldn't help it but to lean in and catch his lips in a tender kiss.

"Mmm," Aziraphale went lax, melting into him. They kissed languidly for a long while, enjoying each other, until Aziraphale's tummy grumbled, and they broke apart laughing, "I'll go fix us some breakfast," he offered, giving Crowley one last kiss and then springing out of the nest.

Crowley spread out his limbs, smiling happily to himself despite his various aches. Maybe this was what domestic bliss felt like, he'd never considered himself the kind of person to settle down with someone and do the whole 'goodnight', 'good morning', 'how was your day', kind of routine, although this also didn't feel quite like that. Maybe it was just that their whole thing was still kind of new and developing, but Crowley could imagine spending his days with Aziraphale like this, this existence felt easy and free, unlike the societal constraints he was used to.

Lying there, Crowley could hear Aziraphale bustling about, the front door opening and closing a few times, then quieter shuffling, a creak, and then silence. That was when Crowley figured that he should probably get up. He got his jeans buttoned and buckled, and then realised that he didn't know where his shirt was.

"Aziraphale, have you seen my shirt?" Crowley called out from the bedroom.

When he got no response, Crowley padded out bare foot on the soft moss floor to the other room, running a hand through his bedhead. He stopped just past the doorway, noticing Aziraphale straight away, knelt on the lounge, tail waggling, arms laden with Crowley's shirt, his adorable face buried in the material and snuffling.

Oh. Crowley's heart melted.

"Angel…" he started gently, and Aziraphale's head popped up, ears twitching, "do you think I could have my shirt back if you're done with it?"

The greatest pout and puppy dog eyed combination ever to exist appeared on the troll's face as he squeezed the cloth tight to his furred chest.

Aw, shit. That was the moment it hit Crowley, and whoa boy did it hit him; he was undeniably, wholeheartedly, royally, head over heels fucked. Love didn't seem like such a four letter word suddenly. Instead it was settling comfortably in his chest, and didn't appear to be leaving anytime soon.

He caved instantly, "Alright, alright, you can keep it, I'll wear my jumper home instead."

"Oh, thank you," Aziraphale sighed in relief, easing his grip a little.

"Hey, c'mere, sweetheart," Crowley held out his hands, and Aziraphale came to him, cuddling into his chest, still clinging to the shirt. His arms immediately wrapped around the troll, and he pressed a couple of kisses to the point of his ear before expressing, "You know, I'd rather be here with you than anywhere else in the world."

"I wish you could be here every day," Aziraphale disclosed quietly.

"Yeah, so do I," he admitted truthfully, "but I'm here every day that I can be, and I think about you nonstop when I'm not with you. And I promise I'll be back soon. In fact I'll be back in…" he did a quick mental count of the days, "six days, which I know is ages, but I can stay overnight with you again if you want me too…"

Aziraphale nodded enthusiastically against his bare chest, "Please, it was the loveliest thing to go to sleep with you, and wake up next to you, Crowley."

"Alright, it's settled then," Crowley smiled kindly, "now how about we eat some breakfast, so that we can do something together before I have to go home."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Inspirational art for this chapter: images DOT /images/2024/04/28/mofuFeb24_