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“How’s your naked man friend?” Nina teased the white haired man.
Across from Aziraphale, Crowley's eyebrows rose in shock.
Aziraphale got very flustered, “He’s not–He’s not my—” And then as if desperately trying to convince the man across the table, “Well, he’s certainly not naked anymore!”
The man across the table still wore a look of disbelief.
“You’re a dark horse, Mr. Fell,” Nina continued her taunting.
Aziraphale, thoroughly embarrassed, couldn't meet Crowley’s eyes.
“Are you a bookseller too?”
“Not even at gunpoint.”
“This is–uhm—Crowley… He and I—” Aziraphale paused trying to sort out how to describe their relationship, “go back a long time.”
“Charmed.”
Nina left the two of them alone. Aziraphale still couldn’t meet Crowley’s eyes.
“So what’s wrong?” Crowley pried.
“Who says something’s wrong?” Aziraphale fiddled with his hands.
“You used your ‘something’s wrong voice” Crowley stared at Aziraphale trying to get the answer from him. “Why couldn’t we meet in the bookshop?” Crowley was met with that uncomfortable silence again.
Then, it dawned on him. The naked man. There was a naked man in Aziraphale’s bookshop. A naked man that was clearly not Crowley, seeing as it had been decades since Crowley had been naked in the Angel’s bookshop.
“Does it have to do with the… naked man you’ve got in there?” Crowley pressed further, trying to keep his tone free of any jealousy, “Why have you got a naked man in your shop?”
“It– It’s not like that, Crowley. I promise you it’s nothing untoward. He just showed up— and happened to be naked–”
“And you told him,” He pulled his best Aziraphale impression with an accusatory tone, “Oh lovely, just in time, I’ve been in search of a naked man, come right in. I do hope you like tea.”
“Crowley, please do hear me out. He only came in—” Aziraphale tried to reason.
Crowley didn’t give him a chance, cutting him off, “-you?” If he weren’t seething with jealousy, he would have been impressed with his word play. “You might be surprised, Angel, but I don’t want to know the details of where he came!”
This shocked Aziraphale; his face went bright red, “don’t be crass, Crowley, and in public too?” He covered his face with his hands, Crowley clearly didn’t have the same embarrassment over such matters. “Please calm down, you are literally smoking, my dear. I do believe you’ve gotten the wrong idea.”
“Enlighten me, Angel. Tell me exactly what he did, and I will eviscerate him atom by atom.” Crowley was still smoldering.
“CROWLEY! I did not fornicate with him!” Aziraphale whisper-shouted louder than he would have liked, causing a few patrons to turn and stare. Embarrassed, Aziraphale stood up, grabbed Crowley’s hand and stormed out of the café. Crowley stumbled behind, trying to keep up.
Once they reached the sidewalk, Aziraphale turned to Crowley, “We are going to go to the bookshop, but you need to promise that you will not freak out when you see him. Promise me?” Aziraphale held out a hand to shake.
Crowley ignored it, “He’s still there? I am going to bloody murder him.”
Aziraphale sighed, “Quit that, you ignorant buffoon! You know for a fact I’m only interested in you! There was nothing sexual about his state of undress. I’ve never been particularly interested in nude forms other than yours. So please, quit your nonsense!”
Crowley was taken aback by the ego boost, “Particularly what parts of my nudity are you interested in?” He asked albeit cheekily.
“Oh, hush!” Aziraphale said, before truly shutting Crowley up with a kiss.
Crowley had been taken aback by Aziraphale’s very public display of affection. Normally, he only got this level of connection with the angel, hidden away in the back room of the bookshop. He couldn’t deny that this was so much better, being shown affection without the shame of having to hide.
Kissing Crowley was like letting lightning course through his body, thrum through every nerve and vibrate just under the skin, as if aching to get out. It would raise goosebumps everywhere it traveled, setting his body alight as it went. Kissing Crowley was electrocution and it left him paralyzed with affection and desire.
If Crowley were honest, he would admit that kissing Aziraphale felt more sinful than anything he had committed for Hell. It was the sheer promise and demand of the thing. When carrying out sin for Hell, the goal was to get the sinful act done and be through with it. With the angel’s kiss though, it made one want to lavish in the feel of the sin. To experience it and relish every little movement of lips, every little sound, texture and taste. To chase after it, beg for more. Let the sin overtake you and remake you in its image. To become one with it and forget yourself, time and place. Crowley could drown in the desire created by one of Aziraphale’s kisses, and would follow him to the ends of creation for another. The angel could control every waking moment of his corporeal and ethereal existence, with merely the promise of one. Crowley was secretly glad that committing sin for Hell never felt this good because he never would have disobeyed Hell if they made him feel this way. Luckily, Aziraphale’s kisses promised all-consuming desire and much, much more to come.
Aziraphale broke the kiss gently, with a sweet peck on the lips. “All sorted then?”
Crowley looked at him, clearly disheveled, “mh–m, no murder, got it.”
“Well then, best get to the bookshop, so I can explain the situation thoroughly” the Angel set off across the street.
Crowley took a moment to readjust himself. He slicked back his hair and straightened up his clothes. And then with a devilish grin, to himself, he murmured, “Bet the naked man doesn’t get to do that.” He strode toward the bookshop, following Aziraphale.
He wasn’t quite sure what the business with the naked man was about, but he would follow Aziraphale anywhere. And he knew that they would sort it out together, just like they always had.