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Crowley sat on the stone floor, glaring at the glowing circle that surrounded him. Intricate lines, detailed sigils. A chain of magic, one that a demon couldn’t break.
“Oy!” he called again, voice hoarse from how long he’d spent yelling earlier. “Seriously, we can cut a deal! I’m not gonna curse your enemies for you, but there’s gotta be something else you want. Eh?”
Nothing.
He swore violently and thumped the floor. He’d done his job too damn well in this town, that was the problem. Tempted loads of people into successful business deals, convinced them that evil was lurking everywhere, stirred up tons of mistrust and enmity. It had looked great on his reports.
It looked much less great from inside the summoning circle, especially since the summoner had left him here to “think about his choices”. There weren’t a lot of choices, honestly.
He couldn’t break the circle. He couldn’t talk his way out of this unless the summoner actually talked to him. And he couldn’t do what the man wanted. Some demons might have loved the idea of cursing an entire town, but good as he was at his job, that wasn’t really Crowley’s scene.
Sighing, he reached out again, pressing his hand to the invisible barricade. Never been trapped in this strong of a circle before. Last time he’d been summoned, he took about five seconds to laugh at the pitiful magic before he shattered the circle and walked out.
This was not that. This guy knew what he was doing, which meant Crowley was totally trapped here. Totally helpless.
He fucking hated being helpless.
Shivering, Crowley hugged his arms around himself. His chest was getting tighter now as the reality sank in. There was nothing he could do except sit here.
He sprang up, pacing instead in tight circles. His outer arm bumped into the boundary again, and he hissed. His heart raced faster, breaths increasingly shallow. Nonono, he had to get out of here, he couldn’t—
“Good Lord, Crowley! Whatever are you doing in there?”
Crowley jerked his head up. Aziraphale bustled towards him, eyes wide with concern. The angel wore his usual light colors, all beige and blue. Looked shockingly bright in the dark stone dungeon. “Being stuck. What’re you doing here?”
“I-I was on my way to see if you had assignments in France again next month. I do too, and I thought perhaps we’d, well… cancel each other out.” Frowning deeply, Aziraphale paused on the other side of the magical barrier. “It appears that now, I’m rescuing you.”
Crowley’s chest went tight, but this time for an entirely different reason. He and Aziraphale had gotten each other out of sticky situations before, but this, for Aziraphale to just offer without needing any coaxing… “You are?”
“Of course I am! We do have the Arrangement. Lend a hand and all that.” Aziraphale gave a tiny smile, eyes flicking to him. “And-and-and of course, it would hardly be angelic for me not to assist someone in need. I do try my best to perform good deeds whenever possible.”
He said it in his most smug tones, and Crowley rolled his eyes. Bastard. “Yes, all right, you can claim this as the win for the side of Good. Just get me outta here.”
“Let’s see, it ought to be a simple matter.” Aziraphale scuffed at the painted line with his foot. It kept glowing, and he frowned more. “A simple matter of just… scraping…”
Crowley crossed his arms tight over his chest, trying to hide the trembling. “That’s not working.”
“It will, I just… Oh, bother.” Aziraphale huffed and stepped back, twisting his hands together. He looked up at the ceiling, then sighed. “Ah. It’s reinforced up there. Likely in other spots, too. So I can’t simply break it.”
The shaking had gotten too severe to hide, and Crowley’s breaths caught again. It took all his self control not to fling himself at the barrier and try to claw his way out. “Angel, you gotta do something. I’ve been trapped in here for bloody hours, I don’t know how to get out, I can’t do anything…”
His voice broke, breaths coming in rapid heaving gasps. Aziraphale rushed forward, pressing his hand to the barrier. “Crowley, Crowley. Look at me. Look at me, my dear.”
Gasping, Crowley slammed his own hand against the barrier. He pressed against it, desperate to feel Aziraphale’s warmth, but he was completely cut off.
“It’s going to be okay,” Aziraphale said firmly, holding eye contact. “Don’t worry, Crowley. I will get you out of this, I promise.”
Crowley stared at him through the haze of tears. “I can’t breathe.”
“I know, but you’re going to be just fine. I’m right here.” And now there was that gentle smile, the one that always made Crowley breathless in a much more pleasant way. Oh, Satan, he loved this angel. “Can you just hold on for me a while longer, Crowley?”
“Y-yeah. Okay.” Crowley pressed his hand harder against the barrier, focusing on Aziraphale. “You’re damn clever. You’ll have me out in no time.”
“Oh, thank you. I certainly intend to.” Aziraphale kept his hand in place on the barrier, but he bent and studied the sigils. “Good Lord, this is excessive. There’s so many layers of power interwoven here that I fear it may explode a bit if I shatter one.”
“Terrific,” Crowley muttered, chest tight. If anyone could get him out of here, though, it was Aziraphale.
But the panic kept rising as Crowley waited. He’d been able to contain it at least a little while he was alone and stewing in irritation. Now, with Aziraphale right there but still out of reach, it just kept getting worse. He was never gonna escape—
“Crowley, look at me.” The firm voice pulled him back. Aziraphale pressed his other hand to the barrier, and Crowley desperately mirrored the gesture. “I know how to get you out of here, but I need you to stay calm. It’s going to be a bit, well, dramatic.”
“What kind of dramatic?” Crowley asked, unable to keep the trembling out of his voice.
“The kind where I pump a vast amount of energy into all this stone, shatter it, and then snatch you out before the explosion destroys everything in this room.” Aziraphale gave a tiny, humorless smile. “Ready?”
Absolutely fucking not, but the alternative was being stuck in here for longer. “Ready.”
Aziraphale pressed his hands harder to the barrier for a second, as if trying to lend Crowley his strength. He let go, bent, and hovered his hands just above the floor. “Don’t touch the barrier, Crowley.”
Gulping, Crowley jerked his hands back. As soon as he did, Aziraphale erupted with angelic power. A surge of it crackled from him like lightning, drilling into the floor, and the whole room shuddered.
The summoning circled dimmed, and Crowley yelped and ducked as lightning blasted past him. Aziraphale charged to him, leapt into the circle, and threw both arms around Crowley.
Another miracle wrenched them out of the physical plane. For a moment there was nothing other than Aziraphale. Just his warmth, his familiar smell, his softness. Not a single barrier between them.
And then they were somewhere else, sitting on the floor. Crowley jerked his head up to see tapestries, scrolls, and books absolutely everywhere. Aziraphale’s room, then. Tears burned his eyes, and he twisted to hide his face in Aziraphale’s neck.
“Shh, it’s okay now.” Breathing hard, Aziraphale hugged him tight. “It’s okay. It’s okay, Crowley.”
“Nnnnh, gosh.” A few of the tears escaped, and Crowley couldn’t even be pissed off at himself for it. He was too relieved. Still couldn’t catch his breath, though, and his whole body shuddered violently.
His chest heaved against Aziraphale’s, ragged breaths that didn’t bring nearly enough air. Aziraphale pulled him closer and rubbed his back in big, slow circles. “Shhh,” he soothed, rocking Crowley in a steady rhythm. “It’s okay, shhh. I’m right here. I have you, Crowley.”
He did, and it made Crowley’s head spin. The nearness overwhelmed him, Aziraphale flooding his senses. The gentle touches, the murmured reassurance, the familiar smell of him. Overwhelming, yeah, but soothing too.
Crowley tried to collect himself, at least a little. “You got me out.”
“I promised I would,” Aziraphale said, tone a little haughty in a failed attempt to conceal the shaking. “It would hardly be angelic of me to break a promise.”
Bastard. Worse, an incredibly attractive bastard. Crowley had found him attractive for a long time, but whooo-eee. Aziraphale really was something special, something glorious, something way too hot.
Crowley pulled back a little, enough that he could see the worry still lurking on Aziraphale’s face. “That was a damn good rescue. I could kiss you right now.”
Oh shit. The words had slipped out without thought, the intoxication of relief overpowering his usual barriers of self-control. Hopefully, Aziraphale would take that as an idiom and let it go.
Instead, Aziraphale’s eyes widened. He licked his lips, tongue making a slow sweep across the upper and then lower. Crowley’s breath hitched. “You… you could, yes.”
Crowley couldn’t tear his gaze away from those lips, his heart pounding faster. Oh Satan, what was he doing? He loved Aziraphale, yeah, but actually acting on it was a terrible idea. “I could? Seriously?”
Aziraphale licked his lips again, and his fingers trailed down Crowley’s spine. A featherlight touch, one that made him shiver. “Quite. It’s, um, an appropriate response. To being rescued. Happens in, um, all the stories!”
Crowley had his doubts about that, but he was too eager to ask questions right now. He shifted a little, still cradled in Aziraphale’s arms, and brought one hand to the angel’s soft cheek.
He leaned in, hesitating just in case Aziraphale changed his mind. Then, stroking his thumb across the soft skin, he pressed his lips to Aziraphale’s. Just for a heartbeat, sinking into the softness, basking in a moment of pure joy.
He pulled back, giving Aziraphale a curious look, and the angel nodded enthusiastically. Their lips joined again, still gently, exploring each other with something like shyness.
Crowley wasn’t used to feeling shy. In this case, though, it only added to the swell of emotion. This was vulnerable, maybe more so than anything else he’d ever done, but he trusted Aziraphale. He didn’t need to hide.
The angel slid a hand through his hair, kissing a little more firmly now. Crowley responded in kind, and his tremors finally started to slow. His heartbeat did too, settling into a steady rhythm as the fear vanished. He was in damn good hands.
One longer, deeper kiss, tongues teasing lightly, and then they both drew back and gazed at each other. Aziraphale touched his cheek as if he was something precious, a little teary himself. “Oh, my dear. I’m so happy that you’re okay.”
“Me too.” Crowley leaned into Aziraphale’s warm hand, finally feeling more like himself. “You exploding a whole room to save me was pretty hot, by the way.”
“Oh, stop.” Aziraphale ducked his head, smiling as a blush crept into his cheeks. He cleared his throat. “At any rate, um, all part of the Arrangement! And I’d also like to propose that the Arrangement includes getting you some excellent wine and conversation. That ought to make you feel much, much better.”
“Sounds perfect.” And maybe later, drinks and conversation would lead to more kisses.