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Back in his own body, the comforting tightness of his own clothes and the familiarity of his own voice, Crowley was entirely unprepared for the series of events that were about to unfold.
He gazed at Aziraphale as he always did, a controlled gaze of boredom masking his pleasure at being around the Angel, glasses barely covering his snake eyes in his eagerness to see Aziraphale as clearly as possible.
“Let me tempt you” he had started, just as he had thousands of times before, yet before he could continue he was struck with a scent so overpowering it had him pausing.
Lust.
“Oh yes .”
What Crowley had been going to say was ‘to a spot of lunch’. The punch of ‘lust’ to his senses, followed by Aziraphale’s usual excited wiggle and his enthusiastic agreement had totally thrown him off.
Crowley.exe stopped working.
“Back to the bookshop, shall we?” The look of innocence on Aziraphale’s face didn’t match the rolling waves coming off him, and Crowley honestly took a moment to check it was coming from his Angel. He’d never sensed lust from him before. Desire, sure, usually around baked treats, but never lust .
There was no mistaking it. Especially not when Aziraphale’s hand grasped his, gentle and sure, tugging him to his feet. Through the static that had taken root inside of his brain, Crowley managed a weak but undeniably confused “huh?”.
“Tempting me, darling.” Was Aziraphale’s easy reply, like he wasn’t crushing everything Crowley ever thought of their relationship with just the simple acceptance of his offer. “You’ve been rather trying my patience since the early days, if I must share the truth. Well, we shall talk more about all that once I have you tucked away in the safety of my bookshop. While we may be free, we can never be too safe.”
Incredible. Here Crowley was thinking he had dialled it back after the ‘you go too fast for me’ incident, and it turned out the only thing holding Aziraphale back had been their respective bosses, not the concept of fucking a demon. Though the amount of control Aziraphale had over himself to hold back the waves of lust that were now making it difficult for Crowley to walk… well, his angel had been holding out on him.
“Do stop it, dear.”
“M’not doing anything?” Other than staring stupidly at the back of Aziraphales head while being dragged through the streets of London. There was the most adorable huff from Aziraphale, and then the angel was stopping abruptly and turning to face Crowley, practically in his face.
“ That . My darling. Stop doing that . The thing you do when you look at me and don’t think I notice you. You radiate love , and it’s terribly distracting while I’m trying to whisk you away.”
Stunned, Crowley gave a curt nod, ignoring the way his face lit on fire.
“Thank you. It shan’t take long to get back.” And then they were moving again. It didn’t seem to take as long as it would usually to get back to the bookshop. Then again, neither of them were slowing their paces or taking the walk in a leisurely manner, which they would usually do just to prolong their time together.
Now they moved with purpose, Aziraphale weaving between the mortals with an agility Crowley hadn’t seen since the early days, when the angels had been convinced they were riddled with diseases that could make them fall. No sooner had that ridiculous thought entered his head, had they arrived at the bookshop.
The feeling was refreshing as he walked inside, the same scent in the air that had been there since the day Aziraphale opened it. The familiar layout, minus the new books that Adam had snuck inside. It was home in a way that his flat had never quite managed.
“There it is again.” Aziraphale said, softer this time now that they were away from prying eyes and in the safety of his warded bookshop. “The feeling of love .”
“Demon’s can’t love.”
“But you can.” Aziraphale countered, dropping Crowley’s hand so he could shrug off his coat, revealing the worn edges of his waistcoat and the golden pocket watch. Crowley followed his lead, peeling off his black jacket to reveal his long sleeved black top, just as form fitting. “No witty remark?”
“You experienced lust.” Crowley countered, accusing Aziraphale, though there was nothing inherently wrong with lust.
“Yes.”
“Directed at me.”
A chuckle. “Only ever toward you, darling. Is it so surprising?”
“How long?”
“Oh, not long after the beginning, I suppose.” Aziraphale moved as he spoke, clearly inviting Crowley further into the depths of the bookshop. The door was already locked, not that it would stop Crowley if he wanted to leave, and the lights were dimmed despite that not being part of their electrical feature. “Certainly since the ark, though there were moments before that.”
“You masked it from me.” The hurt in his voice surprised even himself, and Crowley watched as Aziraphale glanced at him, also surprised at the moment of vulnerability.
“Yes. I wasn’t ready to admit it myself, though I could recognise it for what it was. Our respective sides would have never allowed such a thing, so there was no need to put it on the table, so to speak.”
It made sense. The cogs were turning in Crowley’s head, instead of looking for the peaks of lust in feeling, he could see it now in glances, in situations that Aziraphale put himself in.
“You said I was going too fast for you.”
“Yes.” Aziraphale looked sad at that admission. “I thought you knew. About the feelings you were projecting toward me. Everytime we met there was a rush of love, adoration. I never knew that you weren’t aware of it. I just thought you were trying to push me, making it stronger each time, tempting me to give in.”
Oh.
“I always said I would never use my powers against you, angel.”
“I know, and you’ve always kept that promise.” The smile that followed was bright, welcoming. “Cup of tea?”
“I thought the plan was to ravish me?”
“I’d rather start when both of us are well hydrated. I plan to take my time, and can’t have you tapping out for a quick drink.”
Oh .
Crowley definitely turned a few different shades of red at that one, and from the smirk on Aziraphale’s face he had done a poor job of hiding how much those words had flustered him.
“Tea is fine.”
While Aziraphale busied himself in the kitchen, Crowley did everything he could to calm his heart and take his mind off what Aziraphale had just promised him. Some very long and thorough fucking, if he had interpreted it correctly. Enough to make his subconscious wonder about getting sustenance, which truly didn’t happen very often, both being not of the earth, and a snake demon at the same time. Though perhaps it was the constant cracking of his voice that had Aziraphale thinking he needed to hydrate. It was difficult staying calm when it felt like he was getting constant whiplash from how quickly Aziraphale had changed his entire mind on the concept of them .
If asked only 24 hours earlier, the concept of them didn’t even exist. They were merely beings that happened to share the earth, and should not have any contact with one another outside of thwarting each other's deeds.
Aziraphale stepped close with the offered tea, and Crowley accepted it, smelling the chamomile. Always so thoughtful, his angel. And finally, after what had taken since his falling, Crowley recognised the feelings he was emitting. The look of confusion and then understanding on his face must have alerted Aziraphale to his realisation, as he chuckled, sweetly and heavenly, fingers brushing over Crowley’s in the most tender of gestures.
“That’s what that is?”
“Yes.”
Oddly enough, Crowley recognised it. From Aziraphale. He must have known from early on that Crowley didn’t know what love felt like, and hadn’t bothered to mask that part of himself. Now that he knew, now that he could recognise it, it was difficult not to think back on all of their encounters and pick out when Aziraphale would radiate that feeling.
Crowley sipped his tea, avoiding eye contact with Aziraphale as he mulled over what he had just learnt.
All this time.
For a moment there was anger. She had robbed him of the ability to sense love, just as She had cast him from Her love and warm embrace. But She had also allowed him this. The choice of free will, to disobey Her rules and end up in the comfort of Aziraphale.
The anger left just as quickly as it had arrived, and he was thankful Aziraphale had given him the option of not talking in a way of tea. Truly it calmed him, even though as a demon he would never admit such a thing.
Instead of taking the armchair, as he was known to do, Aziraphale settled in the corner of the sofa, the one that Crowley had carved out for himself years ago. Another unspoken invite, sensing Crowley’s discomfort at the new boundaries of their relationship and paving the way with actions.
Finishing his tea, Crowley placed the delicate cup and saucer on the table, finally joining his angel in the plushness. The few inches between them seemed like miles, yet Aziraphale didn’t let the distance linger, shuffling closer to Crowley to take his hand, cradling it between his own.
“You’re afraid?”
“Of doing the wrong thing.” Crowley admitted. “Of going too fast, or scaring you.” Of losing Aziraphale now that they never had another reason to be together other than wanting to.
“Crowley.” Aziraphale’s sigh and the sternness of his voice had Crowley's back straightening, waiting for an order that wasn’t coming. “You haven’t scared me, ever. Not since we first met each other on the wall, all of those eons ago. So stop being so foolish. I love you, and I want you, to the ends of the universe and beyond.”
“You sappy fuck.”
They both laughed at that, Crowley slipping his glasses from his face and giving Aziraphale a toothy grin. It was returned, genuine and brighter than the stars themselves.
“I suppose I am. May I kiss you?”
“I really wish you would.”
Their first kiss wasn’t anything like Crowley had imagined. He had thought of himself as suave, confident in leading, pushing them down and grinding against Aziraphale until he could hear the sweet sounds of his lover. In truth he was the one hesitating. Waiting for the brush of Aziraphale’s tongue over his lips, falling back against the blankets on their sofa as Aziraphale tilted him just so.
This was new, for the both of them. Perhaps Aziraphale had been too optimistic in his admission of wanting to ravish Crowley, for when their kiss ended they were both breathless, limbs in awkward positions and lips swollen.
They both jerked as the grandfather clock chimed to tell them it was midnight, and Aziraphale laughed. They’d been kissing for hours. It had felt like a blink in their existence, but there it was, proven by the passage of time.
“Urg, I think my arse is numb.”
Aziraphale laughed more, pressing his face into Crowley’s chest in the attempt of controlling himself.
“ Angel I’m serious. You’ve been squeezing it so bloody hard I’ve lost feeling!”
“Oh no.” Aziraphale said with all of the innocence he could muster, finally looking back to Crowley from lidded eyes. “Shall I kiss it better, my dear?”