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"Crowley?"
"Hmm?"
"How would you feel about physical intimacy?"
Crowley's eyebrows raised as he considered this. "Engaging in it, or just as an abstract concept?"
"Crowley."
They were sitting on their favourite bench in St James's Park. Now that Heaven and Hell had cut them loose, there was no need for clandestine meetings, but, they had decided, the park was perfectly nice for overt meetings as well. A casual observer would not have noticed any difference, although they were sitting several inches closer together than had previously been their wont, and Crowley's right arm draped across the back of the bench extended behind Aziraphale's left shoulder.
A slightly less casual observer would have found their conversation rather odd, but that was par for the course.
"What brought this on?"
"Oh, I don't know." Aziraphale waved a hand to take in the various other couples in the park. Many were engaging in some variety of affectionate physical contact. "They certainly enjoy it, and... well, it was never really an option before."
Crowley smiled broadly at him. Their own relationship might have been restrained by conflicting loyalties and fear of retribution, but the angel could easily have gotten physical with a human or twenty over the millennia if he had wanted. Apparently, he hadn't wanted. Neither had Crowley. As with other human bodily urges, angels (fallen or otherwise) didn't have any drive in that direction apart from curiosity and pleasure, and it just wouldn't have been the same with anyone else.
He checked his watch. "Well, we've got some time before lunch. Anything particular in mind?"
Aziraphale's brow crinkled. "Hadn't really thought that far, to be honest."
"The tasting menu, then? Try a bit of everything, see what takes?"
"I like your way of thinking." He glanced at the human couples again. "Shall we try holding hands again, for starters? It seems the thing to do in the park, I count at least five. And I rather enjoyed it on the bus*, and during the, ah, exchange, even if I was a bit preoccupied in both cases. I'd like to try it for its own sake."
In response, Crowley levered himself into a more upright position and removed his arm from the backrest. Wordlessly, he offered the hand to Aziraphale, who unclasped his own and took it.
It took a bit of adjusting to find the best angle, but find it they did, and their hands settled comfortably together. It felt right, puzzle pieces locking into place, the demon's right hand in the angel's left (there was probably some sort of symbolism there, there usually was).
They simply sat there for a few moments, enjoying the feeling of contact, before Crowley made a small noise. "Oi," he said, "do that again, angel."
"Did I do something?" said Aziraphale, puzzled.
"Your thumb. Like..." Crowley swept his own thumb sideways across the back of Aziraphale's hand.
"Oh," said Aziraphale, his expression transforming as though Crowley had just fed him a bite of torte. "Oh, that's lovely. Like this?" He stroked gently.
"Just like that. Mmmh. You wouldn't think it'd feel that... that much, would you? Just from a thumb."
"Well, the hands are extremely sensitive. Lots of nerve endings."
"Mmm."
"How many, I wonder?"
Crowley grunted, fumbled out his phone and thumbed at it one-handed. After a minute, he said, "Seventeen thousand in the palms."
"My goodness."
Crowley put away his phone. Then, releasing his grasp on the angel's hand, he turned it over and began to trace an inward spiral on his palm with one long finger.
Aziraphale gasped.
"Is that all right?" Crowley asked, pausing.
"Quite all right, my dear," Aziraphale assured him, smiling shakily. "Just... remarkably intense. Took me a bit off guard."
"Hands. Who'd have thought?"
"Quite."
"Should I keep going?"
Aziraphale collected himself and considered. "Not just now, I think. I would like to revisit it later, but we do have other dishes to sample. So to speak."
"Right. Shall we try kissing? Very popular activity, kissing."
"So I've heard," Aziraphale said drily, scooting over on the bench until he was hip to hip with Crowley.
They tried kissing.
They got the noses sorted out and tried again.
After a breathless while, Aziraphale pulled back. "Crowley... dearest..."
"Whuh..." Crowley looked at Aziraphale, and his blissed-out expression drooped. "Was it not good? I thought it was good..."
"Oh, no! No, it was wonderful! Really. Only... I'm sorry to even bring this up, but I wonder if it might not be a bit more comfortable, if we want to do this for any length of time, that is, and I would quite like to, which is the only reason I ask..."
"Bloody Heaven, spit it out, angel!"
Aziraphale fidgeted, left hand pulling anxiously at the fingers of the right. "Is there any chance you might be willing to... remove your glasses?"
Crowley hissed between his teeth.
"I know, I know, I know you don't like to, I shouldn't have asked, only they do press just a bit... I suppose we can always wait until later."
Now Crowley's expression turned agonised. This option did not appeal much either. He was enjoying the kissing. "I know no one's going to see, it just feels so..."
"I know it does." Aziraphale radiated sympathy. "I know, darling, I'm sorry." He thought for a moment. "Would you permit me to try one thing? If it doesn't suit you, I shall just learn to live with it."
Hesitantly, Crowley nodded.
Aziraphale reached up and cradled Crowley's face in both hands. He ran a thumb along one cheekbone, then adjusted the position of his hands so they acted as blinders of a sort. "How does that feel?"
"It feels..." Crowley nodded thoughtfully between Aziraphale's hands. "...more private." Mostly psychological, of course, but then, so were the sunglasses. "All right." He raised his own hand to touch the back of Aziraphale's. "I think I can live with that. But now you have to let me try something," he added slyly.
Aziraphale gave him a suspicious look.
Crowley grinned. "Trust me."
Aziraphale sighed, and smiled softly. "I do trust you, you old serpent."
Crowley pushed his sunglasses up onto his forehead. The two of them locked eyes.
"They really are beautiful, you know," Aziraphale murmured. "I know that's not the issue, but they are. So, what was it you wanted to try?"
"This," said Crowley, pulling him into a much deeper and more energetic kiss.
Between both their pairs of hands, they managed to block from general view the worst of the PDA, which was probably just as well.
Aziraphale looked thoroughly dazed when they finished. "My word. You certainly are... agile." He seemed to be testing his mouth to make sure everything was still in its original position and in good working order. "You're sure you've got no prior experience with that?"
Crowley replaced his shades and grinned unrepentantly. "Purely experimental. You like it?"
Aziraphale nodded, lowering his hands. "Although I must say, I feel certain it must be a sin of some kind, but I can't imagine what."
Crowley stretched. "Oh, I dunno. Felt like a pretty good deed to me."
"Mmmh."
"I haven't broken you, have I?"
"I am perfectly intact," Aziraphale said with dignity. "I feel like I could use a cool-down, though. I hadn't expected anything quite that vigorous on the first go. No complaints, mind."
"That's fair. Hugging tame enough for you?"
"Hugging sounds perfect. What's the expression? 'Get in here'."
Crowley got.
...
"Your shoulder is in my neck."
"Sorry. Is that better?"
"Much, thank you."
...
"I do like the new cologne, by the way."
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah, it suits you. Blends well with your odour of sanctity."
...
"I like this one."
"Mmm. I feel like I could fall asleep like this."
"Please don't, we do still have a lunch reservation."
"We've got time." Crowley's voice in Aziraphale's ear was teasing.
"Not with your naps, we don't. We'll add it to the list for later, how about that?"
"Oh, all right."
They reluctantly detached.
"Right. Is that all of the basics?"
Crowley smirked. "All but one, but that would definitely make us late for lunch."
Aziraphale gave him a sharp look. "Yes, because we'd be arrested, Crowley."
Crowley guffawed.
"I'm torn, to be honest. Sexual intercourse is supposed to feel marvelous, and it's as intimate as you can get, but isn't it awfully messy?"
Crowley, who was mouthing sexual intercourse and waggling his head in mockery, looked at him disbelievingly. "If you're doing it right, yeah."
"And it seems to be impossible to do with any sort of decorum."
"Decorum," said Crowley flatly.
"Yes."
"During sex."
"My point exactly."
Crowley sneered. "Would it make you feel better to dab the spunk off your lips with a serviette afterwards?"
"Don't be crass."
"Have you even met me?" Crowley sighed and gentled his tone. "Look, Aziraphale, we don't have to if you don't want to. Whatever you want, whatever you don't. Just, if that's your only reason, remember, I've seen you sloppy drunk. I've seen you singing drunk. I know you indecorous, angel."
Aziraphale looked mortified. "I suppose you do."
"I love seeing you like that, you know. Once in a while. I love being allowed to see you like that. The fact that you trust me with it, that's intimacy. The rest of this is nice, but it's all just... nerve endings. But that, seeing that part of you that you never show anyone is… such a privilege. You know?"
Aziraphale's expression had softened, as the demon spoke, into something like wonder. Carefully, he placed his hands by Crowley's temples and raised his sunglasses, and Crowley neither flinched nor protested.
Staring into slitted golden eyes, Aziraphale said, low and firm, "I know exactly."
He kissed him once, soft and lingering, before lowering the glasses back into place.
"Of course," Crowley allowed, "nerve endings are bloody brilliant too."
"My compliments to the design team," Aziraphale agreed. "Right. Well. Taken in that light, I suppose I could 'let my hair down' a little…"
"For Satan's sake, Aziraphale, I can hear the quotes."
"…but we're doing it at your place," finished Aziraphale, ignoring this. "Easier to clean up afterwards."
"Do you even have a proper bed?" asked Crowley, draping himself back along the bench in his usual way.
"The sofa has always been enough for my purposes."
"It is a good sofa, but I think my bed's a better bet, yeah."
"Do you have any sexual experience? Actual experience, not just theoretical."
"Nehhh. I'm no incubus. I do know what usually plays well with the humans, though. Sexual temptation's an easy way to make quota. Was," he corrected himself.
"And I believe there are several instructive manuals in the bookshop. Between us, we ought to manage a satisfactory time of it."
Crowley nodded and shifted his arm from the bench's backrest to Aziraphale's shoulders.
Aziraphale smiled at him.
Crowley smiled back and leaned more of his weight onto Aziraphale.
"Um."
Crowley leaned as hard on Aziraphale as he could, and grinned at him from about four inches away.
"Now you're just being silly."
Crowley dangled from the arm around Aziraphale's neck before releasing it and flopping heavily into his lap.
"Anthony J. Crowley, if you do not get up and stop this nonsense this instant, we shan't have any sex at all!" Aziraphale declared loudly enough to be heard at a considerable radius.
Crowley hooted with laughter and sat up. "Whoo-eee, angel, you're gonna get us banned if you keep that up!"
"What on Earth's got into you all of a sudden?"
"Everything! It's a nice day, we haven't a care in the world, we've got a world to not have any cares in, lots of free time, you've stopped being scared of us, and you've found us a new hobby. Maybe I'm high on life, isn't that what your type calls it?"
"Maybe you're high on dopamine." Aziraphale was beaming, though, his smile having widened with every point Crowley offered.
Crowley snaked out a hand and ruffled Aziraphale's cumulus hair.
Aziraphale made a face like it's like that, is it? and ruffled him back.
What followed was a mess of tickling, prodding, stolen kisses, and at least one headlock before it occurred to one of them to check the time.
"Right!" said Aziraphale, standing, straightening his clothes, and rubbing his hands together. "Lunch, then back to your place for some light debauchery, and then, if you're up for it," he lowered his voice to an intimate murmur in Crowley's ear as the latter unfolded himself from the bench, "we can get absolutely hammered and forget the words to as many songs as possible."
"Oh, you had me at 'hammered'," breathed Crowley. "I didn't know you could do seductive, angel!"
Aziraphale's attitude was once more primly self-satisfied. "Is that what I was doing?" he asked innocently.
"You got a lot better at the tempting than you let on, you know," Crowley said as they strolled in the direction of the car, hand in hand. "Oh, make sure to drink plenty of water at lunch, we'll want to be well hydrated. And we should remember to stretch."
"Yes, I understand it can get rather strenuous. What else will we need?"
"Libido, choice of genitalia... sexual attraction isn't required but it does help get things going..."
"Might as well. How many nerve endings in the genitalia?"
"Hang on, I'll check."
*Touch can serve many purposes, sometimes simultaneously. On the bus back from Tadfield, the night after the world didn't end, it had been a silent and very efficient continuation of their conversation at the bus stop. Crowley's hand, briefly extended as they boarded, had said Our side? and Sit with me, properly, the jig is up anyway and My place? Offer's still open and other things besides, and Aziraphale, after one final, habitual hesitation that lasted about three steps down the aisle, had accepted the seat next to him, and the hand, and everything it contained. [return to story]