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Aziraphale didn’t care what Crowley wore to the beach. He really didn’t. Crowley was more than 6,000 years old and was perfectly capable of choosing his own outfits. Aziraphale wouldn’t have cared if Crowley wanted to go to the beach naked, although, it really wasn’t that kind of a beach. They had both decided to steer clear of nude beaches, deeming them something the humans must have come up with on their own as neither Heaven nor Hell were quite twisted enough to come up with such an idea. Even so, Crowley was doing his best to wear as little clothing as possible.
If he wanted to wear nothing but a speedo—and that was putting it delicately—then that was Crowley’s choice. Aziraphale decided that he would not comment on Crowley’s decision to cover himself with nothing more than a swatch of stretchy fabric and a string. It’s in style , the demon had insisted, and Aziraphale was not one to argue. He merely asked Crowley if he was ready to go, then helped the demon load their things into the Bentley. It was a short drive to the beach from their cottage in South Downs.
The angel didn’t mind that all the beach goers that afternoon got to see nearly as much of Crowley as he did. In fact, it seemed to be his salvation. All the onlookers could do just that— look —but not touch. At the end of the day, Aziraphale was the only one who got to put his hands on Crowley’s beautiful, freckled form. He could stand to put up with stares from a few strangers . And stare they did. The angel wore a pair of swim trunks that came just above his knee, and a cotton tropical-print shirt. Side by side he and Crowley made quite the odd couple, but that didn’t bother him.
What did bother Aziraphale was the fact that Crowley suddenly seemed rather self-conscious about his choice in swimwear. He would fidget a little as they laid on the blanket they’d draped across the sand. It took Aziraphale a while to notice—he’d been reading a rather good paperback—but soon it was all he could think about. He watched as Crowley eventually got up, headed towards the water, encountered a couple of kids, then sullenly marched himself back to their spot on the beach.
“I wanna go home angel,” he mumbled, avoiding Aziraphale’s eyes.
“Whatever for, my dear? We’ve only been here a few hours.”
“Don’t like my bathing suit.”
It made no sense , Aziraphale thought, it showed off Crowley’s freckled skin quite nicely.
“You were rather proud of it this morning,” he remarked.
Crowley’s cheeks turned a dark shade of pink. He pushed his sunglasses higher up onto his nose, then folded his arms over his chest, pouting. It amused Aziraphale when Crowley pouted, as if the demon had forgotten his age and resorted to behaving like a human child. The angel gently placed a bookmark in his novel and set it down on the blanket to his left. He then patted the spot where Crowley had previously been lying to his right, inviting the demon to sit down.
“Come on dear, what’s the matter?”
Crowley sighed and plopped himself down on the blanket sitting cross-legged, his head pointed away from the angel. Aziraphale wrapped an arm around the demon’s waist, beginning to pull him into his lap, and Crowley did his best to look unhappy about it.
“Oh Crowley, what’s wrong?”
The demon was silent for a moment, then:
“Kids keep making fun of me,” he said quietly.
Aziraphale clicked his tongue.
“They’re just kids, you know.”
“Yeah, I know, I know!”
Crowley sighed.
“They were making fun of my freckles,” he admitted.
To his credit, Crowley was completely covered in freckles. Little ones dotted his face, and larger ones marked his arms, his chest, his stomach and back. Little clusters of freckles decorated his shoulders and the tops of his thighs. They were much darker than the rest of Crowley’s pale skin, so they showed up quite nicely. Aziraphale didn’t mind Crowley’s freckles, in fact, they were one of his favorite things about the demon. They offered a beautiful contrast between his and the angel’s bodies—particularly when they were pressed together—and it bothered Aziraphale that Crowley was didn’t seem to like them.
Even so, the angel bit back a laugh. Crowley could be very prideful. He took great pride in his appearance, and often went out of his way to make sure he looked decidedly flashy and cool. But Crowley was also rather sensitive, at least when it came to certain things. Freckles being among them . It never ceased to amaze Aziraphale that a demon could develop such an interesting combination of traits. It was so...so human, and the angel loved him for it.
“What, these gorgeous freckles?” he teased, poking at one on Crowley’s cheek.
When Crowley turned his head to glare at Aziraphale over his shoulder, the angel simply giggled and reached for Crowley’s sunglasses. Before the demon could pull away, Aziraphale lifted them from his face and placed them next to his book. Crowley turned his head so that he was staring straight forward, but Aziraphale felt that just wouldn’t do.
“Oh, come on now,” he said quietly, leaning forward to whisper against Crowley’s ear, “let’s see your pretty eyes.”
He trailed a hand under Crowley’s chin, gently turning the demon’s head back to look at him. When Crowley finally dared to make eye contact, Aziraphale smiled. He loved the way Crowley’s cheeks had grown an even deeper shade of pink from all the attention. His ears were beginning to take on a bit of color too.
“Beautiful,” the angel murmured.
His eyes darted to the freckle on Crowley’s cheek.
“Almost as beautiful as this little freckle of yours, my dear.”
With that, Aziraphale planted a soft kiss on the freckle in question. Then he kissed the freckle at the corner of Crowley’s mouth. And then one of the freckles on his jaw.
“ Angel ,” Crowley managed.
His body was a little tense, but he didn’t pull away as Aziraphale continued to show the same amount of love and reverence for each of the freckles that dotted the back and side of his neck. Crowley felt his face grow hot, and the summer sun had absolutely nothing to do with it. Even the tops of his shoulders had turned a light red by the time Aziraphale’s lips made their way there. He felt the angel pull him in a little closer, and soon a hand was guiding Crowley, encouraging him to lean back and rest his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder.
“Aziraphale,” Crowley complained.
“Hush now, my dear,” the angel replied.
“But angel...people are watching.”
Crowley expected him to pull away at that. He expected Aziraphale to release him and he would be free from the weight of the angel’s attention. He did not expect what happened next.
“ And ?” Aziraphale whispered, nuzzling against Crowley’s ear.
One word was all it took. One word was enough to do all sorts of funny things to Crowley, like make his toes curl and set loose an entire swarm of butterflies in his stomach. But then, it wasn’t so much the word, as how Aziraphale said it. Before he could form a coherent thought, Aziraphale leaned over and kissed the freckle on the side of his nose, then began to turn his attention a little lower. The demon made a noise that was definitely not suitable for a public beach when Aziraphale’s lips brushed against the base of his neck, then continued lower, kissing at the freckles that marked Crowley’s collarbone and the top of his chest.
He felt the angel’s arms tighten around his waist, signifying that Aziraphale had no intention of letting Crowley go any time soon. The demon bit his lip and reached a hand back to tangle in Aziraphale’s hair. He balled his fist in the angel’s downy, white curls, letting a lazy smile spread across his lips as he closed his eyes. Crowley felt Aziraphale kiss the front of his shoulder, then reach for his left arm. He gently grabbed the demon’s wrist and lifted his arm so that is was outstretched. The angel then began to trail kisses along Crowley’s arm, lips ghosting over each freckle along the way.
Aziraphale eventually made it all the way to Crowley’s wrist, where he then kissed the small freckles on the back of the demon’s hand. He kissed the freckle on Crowley’s index finger, the two on his thumb, the one on his knuckles, then he turned Crowley’s hand over and found the freckles hiding on the palm of his hand. Crowley’s eyes shot open when Aziraphale suddenly took the demon’s index and middle fingertips in his mouth, sucking on them lightly. Crowley pulled away, just enough so that he could stare at the angel, wide-eyed.
“What do you say we go somewhere a little more private and I’ll finish showing your freckles how much I appreciate them?” Aziraphale whispered, his eyes hooded.
For an angel, he looked positively sinful like that. How could Crowley say ‘no?’ The demon nodded his head and slowly got to his feet with a little help from Aziraphale. They packed up their things as quietly as they could, ignoring the glances from people nearby. A short walk and a quick demonic miracle later, a perfectly secluded spot just happened to turn up. Crowley couldn’t speak for anyone else, but he had a simply wonderful afternoon on the beach...