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Summary
“Demons have laws?” Aziraphale asks, head cocked to the side.
“Well, insofar as nature has laws, yes. Is that your final request? Is that what it’ll be?”
Aziraphale takes a moment to contemplate this. “Yes.”
Crowley nods, then holds the pad of his thumb out to Aziraphale’s mouth. “Lick it,” he commands.
“Excuse me?” Aziraphale squeaks. Crowley notes that this is the first time Aziraphale has been outwardly puzzled at literally anything Crowley has done.
“In order for a demonic contract to be solidified, there needs to be a mixing of biological matter, and I’m assuming you’re not into bloodletting,” Crowley says, eyes wide. He’s been wrong before.
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Aziraphale, a human, has grown used to being alone.
Everything changes for him when a unique occult relic falls into his hands and loops him into a contract with a mild-mannered (if a bit snarky) demon named Crowley.