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Picnics had turned out to be entirely as lovely as Aziraphale always hoped. Granted, the drive here left him clutching at the Bentley’s door for support while Crowley rocketed wildly around every turn, but even that was worth it. His hectic driving brought such a bright grin to his face, and Aziraphale adored that grin.
He adored everything about Crowley, in fact, and now that they were free from their Sides, Aziraphale took every opportunity to appreciate him. Crowley had been so much more, well… free lately.
“Oooh, okay,” Crowley said in response to Aziraphale’s offer of a cake. The silly old demon flopped down on the tartan blanket, laid his head on Aziraphale’s thigh, and opened his mouth. “Give it here.”
Aziraphale chuckled and obligingly fed him the little cake. He’d baked these himself this morning, while Crowley lounged in a chair just outside the kitchenette and asked far too many questions about the process. It was delightful.
Golden eyes widened behind dark glasses as Crowley chewed. “Gosh, that’s terrific. I should eat cake more often.”
“You absolutely should, and I’d be very happy to make it for you whenever you like.” Aziraphale ducked his head and gazed shyly through his lashes. “In fact, we could make it together. I’d be very happy to teach you.”
Crowley grinned, opening his mouth to reply. But then his expression collapsed, lips pressed together and furrows carving through his brow. “Does it look like rain?”
Aziraphale stared at the goodie he’d just picked up. “It looks like cake.”
That earned a quick, irritated glance. “Not the cake, the sky.”
“The sky looks like sky,” Aziraphale said dryly.
But his tone quickly became the only thing that was dry. Just as he looked up, a big drop of rain splashed on his forehead, quickly followed by another.
Quickly followed by enough raindrops to completely drench them both.
“Oh!” Aziraphale cried, flailing as Crowley scrambled into action and flung the remaining food and drink back in the picnic basket. “Oh no, it’s all a disaster!”
He finally had the presence of mind to get up, at least, although he hadn’t managed to help at all with collecting their belongings. Crowley snatched the wet blanket, crammed it on top of the picnic basket, and extended his free hand. “Angel, come on!”
Aziraphale grabbed his hand, letting himself be pulled into a run as the rain drummed down on them. He whipped out his wings and swept one above Crowley’s head. His poor old serpent tended to get chilled so easily.
“Nnnnnh, damn storms,” Crowley griped, pulling him under the shelter of a great big oak tree. Some of the rain still got through, dripping down on Aziraphale’s head, but at least it was much less than before. “Could have been worse, mind, I’ve seen rain like you wouldn’t believe.”
“I would believe. We’ve watched rather a lot of it together.” With a huff of frustration, Aziraphale took the sodden picnic supplies from Crowley and deposited them on the ground. “Oh, it must all be ruined…”
“S’ all right.” Slender fingers slid through Aziraphale’s hair, ruffling it, and Aziraphale’s breath caught. Oh Lord, that immediately took his mind off soggy cakes. “You said you’d teach me, yeah? We can bake together when we get back home.”
“Oh!” Aziraphale straightened up, heart leaping with joy. Crowley was smiling at him with that softness that always stole Aziraphale’s breaths. “Oh, you always know how to make me feel better, Crowley!”
He stretched and kissed Crowley right on the lips, a quick press that turned into a longer one when Crowley made a startled noise, caught his shoulders and held him in place. Aziraphale closed his eyes, rapid heartbeat slowing as they both sank into it. Crowley’s nearness, the way his hands tightened on Aziraphale’s shoulders, the firm presses of his lips.
His lips.
Oh Lord, they were kissing.
Aziraphale jerked back, and Crowley gave him an alarmed look. “Sorry, did I hurt you?”
“No, no, you were lovely. You are lovely. I just, um…” Despite the cold drip of the rain, heat flushed through Aziraphale’s whole body. He flailed vaguely. “We were kissing.”
“I noticed.”
“And we‘ve never actually, um…” Swallowing hard, Aziraphale waved a hand about. “Talked.”
Crowley grinned. “I can pretty confidently say we’ve talked a lot.”
“Oh, you wretched old serpent.” But Aziraphale was getting rather giddy now, in an entirely different way. “You kissed me back.”
“Yup.” And then Crowley pulled him into another kiss.
This one was deeper, more passionate. Aziraphale slipped his arms around Crowley’s waist and cinched him closer, eagerly meeting every press and slide and gentle nibble. He’d never imagined—never even dreamed—that it could feel this amazing, that he could be this happy.
When their lips finally parted, Crowley folded him in a tight hug. Aziraphale responded in kind, resting his cheek against Crowley’s damp shoulder. He shook his wings to rid them of some of the water, then wrapped them around his demon.
“Mmm, angel.” Crowley brushed a kiss to his neck. “My angel. I love you so damn much. Have for a long time.”
The words resonated with the warmth in Aziraphale’s chest, although vibrating at a slightly different frequency. “I love you too, so dearly. Not, um, for a long time though.”
Crowley snorted and kissed his neck again. “No?”
“Well, I mean, I have loved you for a very long time. As my dearest friend.” And what a marvelous friend he had been all these millennia. “But my, um. Desire for kissing and-and-and other related activities is, um, a more recent development. Recent as in, not until the past century.”
“Only that long, huh?” There was a warm humor in Crowley’s voice that immediately chased away any worry. He rubbed Aziraphale’s back, nuzzled into his hair. “S’ more recent for me, too. Recent as in, for something like a thousand years.”
Aziraphale laughed, hugging his demon tighter. “I suppose in the grand scheme of things, that is rather recent.”
“Yup.” Gently, Crowley drew away and smiled at Aziraphale. His sunglasses had slid down his nose, revealing beautiful happiness in his eyes. He looked… at peace, perhaps. “S’ nice to have it out in the open now, huh? Also, I’m definitely interested in more kissing and ‘other related activities.’”
Aziraphale blushed, ducking his head. “Oh my. I suppose we, um, might be better off doing that somewhere with less rain.”
It was still dripping down on their heads rather a lot. Crowley laughed and kissed him again, this time quickly. “It’s just rain. Actually, there is something I’d really love to do right now.”
Aziraphale’s breath caught, heat flushing through him again. “Oh?”
Crowley crammed his hands in his pockets and gave a little side to side sway. “Can I groom your wings? They’re kinda messed up from the rain.”
Legs going a little weak, Aziraphale nodded. “Oh my, yes. That sounds unbelievably lovely.”
“Terrific.” Crowley swooped in for another quick kiss, then slipped behind him. “Here, wanna sit down? Sorry, grass is kinda wet, hang on.”
A miracle hummed through the air, and Aziraphale glanced back to see the now-dry tartan blanket spread out. “Oh, thank you! You do spoil me.”
“Count on it.” Crowley pushed gently on Aziraphale’s shoulder until he sank down, then flopped behind him and sank his fingers into Aziraphale’s feathers. “Gosh, you’re soft.”
“Quite,” Aziraphale agreed, patting his belly.
“I love it that you’re soft.” Light kisses pressed to the back of Aziraphale’s head, then to the back of his shoulder. “My favorite soft angel.”
Aziraphale couldn’t help but laugh, despite the rain still dripping down. He leaned back as Crowley carded through his wings, as if taking his time to feel and appreciate every single feather. “Well, I expect you shall enjoy cuddling with all my softness when we get back to the shop. Preferably with thick blankets. I suspect you may need a bit of warming up.”
“Nnnyeah, probably.” Crowley ran his hands along the top of Aziraphale’s left wing, then guided it back to rest across his lap. “I love you.”
Content, Aziraphale closed his eyes. “I love you too, dear boy.”
Crowley stroked the coverts a few times, slow and careful, then began to put Aziraphale’s feathers in order. Smoothing and straightening them, each touch full of love. And as he did, he pressed intermittent kisses to Aziraphale’s shoulders, his neck, the base of his wing.
Aziraphale smiled as he felt Crowley nuzzling into the fluffy scapulars. “Enjoying the softness, my dear?”
“Maybe,” Crowley replied, voice muffled by feathers.
He truly was adorable, although he would certainly protest if Aziraphale said so. Perhaps later, it would be fun to needle him more about it.
At the moment, though, Aziraphale was entirely occupied with basking in the affection. All the sweet little touches, the kisses. The rain still dripped down, but Aziraphale didn’t mind getting a bit damp. It was well worth it.
He waited until Crowley finished with his left wing, then turned and pouted over his shoulder. “Crowley.”
Crowley raised his eyebrows. “Yeah?”
Aziraphale put on his best pleading eyes. “It feels like so long since we kissed.”
That drew a beautiful laugh, Crowley’s whole expression lighting up with unfettered joy. He steered Aziraphale’s wing out of the way, slid beside him, and kissed him deeply.
Yes, needling Crowley later about his sweetness would be awfully fun. So would snuggling, kissing more, and any other related activities. Freedom was a marvelous thing indeed.