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“Mm, delightful.” Aziraphale was just finishing up enjoying a spot of coffee crumble cake from the nice cafe across the road. Careful not to get crumbs on his clothing or floor, he wiped the residue from his fingers, sneaking a small lick of one of them. Crowley sat opposite of him, half a glass of brandy in his hand. They had just been talking about some human goings-on, discussing their theories on some political leaders and their motivations, arguing whether or not they were heaven or hell worthy. Crowley insisted he had inside knowledge, but Aziraphale doubted him. Demons lie, after all; whoever told him that information could be taking credit, just as he has in the past.
“So! Care for a cuppa?” Aziraphale asked brightly. “I have some new herbals we can dip into for a nightly wind-down.” He gathered his plate and napkin and stood to head towards the back room. Crowley, looking outside the window, glasses hanging on a statuette on the table next to him, watching the street get darker under the falling sun, waved a half-hearted “go on” motion. The angel nodded and made his way back. Even if his… guest didn’t end up drinking it, as he often-–but not always–-didn’t, what kind of host would he be if he didn’t offer.
“Oh, the new cafe owner is named Nina, by the way! Don’t know if you caught that,” Aziraphale called back as he rinsed the plate in the small antique sink. “Interesting choice she had for renaming the cafe…” He grabbed the kettle to fill with water as he heard light, slow footsteps behind him.
“I hadn’t caught that,” Crowley said, now standing in the entryway. The angel looked back to see him leaning on the frame, hands in his pockets. His eyes almost seemed to glow in the incandescent low light of the study.
“Oh- uh- yes, she seemed, um, busy…” Aziraphale turned back. He dumped some of the water from the kettle as he had overfilled it. “You needn’t have gotten up, Crowley, I don’t mind bringing this to you! Go, relax!” He put the kettle on the burner, but he hesitated to turn it on. Something in the air felt off. He turned to face his present company.
Crowley was still standing there, leaning, but looking at him in a way that he hadn’t seen in a long time. It was a mischievous look, a dark one, with only a hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips. The angel’s stomach did a small flip. He’s only seen this look a couple times throughout their time knowing each other. The demon had something on his mind.
“What?” Aziraphale asked commandingly. “Do you want to heighten our bet? I really don’t think that congresswoman is who you say she is, she seems perfectly–”
“No,” Crowley interrupted, pushing off from the doorframe and sauntering over slowly towards Aziraphale, whose breath caught in his throat. “There’s something I realized recently, and I can’t seem to stop thinking about it.”
“O-oh?” Aziraphale tried to back up only to immediately be stopped by the wall and shelves behind him. Damn this small room. He tried to compose himself. They’ve certainly been in tight quarters before, but the energy coming off of Crowley was different this time around.
The demon squared up to the angel. Despite only being a few inches different in height, Crowley’s presence was imposing as his gaze was cast downward, scanning. Aziraphale laughed nervously. “Ahem, well, whatever could it be about? Is it… troubling?”
“Mm. Not as such.” Crowley reached out a hand and fiddled with the top button of Aziraphale’s waistcoat. The angel felt like he stopped breathing minutes ago. Yellow eyes darted back up to meet blue ones. “There’s a temptation I’ve not yet tried on you.”
Heat emanated from Aziraphale’s chest, plunging his gut down and igniting his face. His breath quickened. What was happening? They’ve been this close before, usually when Crowley is upset at something he said. They’ve touched before, many times. This was different, though. Why was this different?
Before he knew it, half his buttons were undone. All he could see was Crowley’s face, dark with the glowing eyes, his stare boring into him. The touch of his fingertips grazing his abdomen sent lightning bolts through his nerves. The last button undone. Crowley slipped his hand underneath the vest, slowly, agonizingly slowly, brushing along his torso and finding its way onto his back. The feelings were so intense they bordered on painful.
The angel, for once, was speechless, his breaths quick and shallow, his brain swimming with thoughts and trying to process all of these new sensations and emotions and confusion. He was holding the edge of the sink as if the floor would give out underneath him at any second. He could've sworn the room around them went dark. All he could see was his eyes.
Crowley pressed his body against Aziraphale’s, his hand pulling him ever closer. He felt the shockwaves of trembling, the quick breathing, even his heightened heartbeat. He broke eye contact and leaned forward so that their faces were next to each other. “Careful, Angel,” he said, his voice velvety soft and low. “You’ll explode. You should relax.”
Hearing Crowley’s voice snapped Aziraphale out of his panic-induced trance. He took a deep breath, as much as he could muster. But now he could feel his friend’s hot breath on his neck, his voice right in his ear. He felt his other hand land on his chest and slowly rub upwards, up to his shoulder then over his collar, onto his neck and ending up on the side of his head, caressing his cheek. He found himself closing his eyes and letting his head rest against the hand, like he had been waiting, yearning for this feeling for… Forever. The rest of the world had fallen away and it was just them, just the lightning bolts, just the fireworks, just the pressure. He wanted Crowley to squeeze harder, he wanted to become one with each other, envelope one another, take up the same space with him.
The demon’s hand held the angel’s face there as his lips just only grazed the skin of his neck. He planted a soft kiss just below his ear, and Aziraphale involuntarily let out a moan, which surprised both of them. The angel's eyes popped back open and his body stiffened. “I– Uh– What– I don’t–” His elation started to turn into fear at the realization of what was happening. Crowley lifted his head to look at Aziraphale’s face, which was tilted away, leaning into his hand. He could tell he was, at this point, purposely avoiding his gaze. He used his hand to turn his head to face him, so that they could look each other in the eyes.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked. His voice was still low but sincere, his eyebrows raised in concern. Aziraphale stared deep into those golden pools, the iciness of worry taking turns with the hot flushes of desire. He was sure this moment only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like hours. Days. He wished they could stay there for eternity.
“... N… no…” he stammered. Crowley’s eyebrows fell slightly, studying the angel’s face. He leaned back in, causing Aziraphale to sharply inhale. He hugged him tighter, pressed into him. Aziraphale’s hand-–the one opposite of the one hanging onto the sink for dear life-–instinctively reached up and held onto the demon’s back, softly at first, but that desire for closeness, for oneness, took over, and he squeezed him hard. Crowley gave his neck a light lick from his collar to his ear, causing the angel to let out another surprised moan.
Crowley then backed off once again. He took his hand off of the angel’s face and used it to prop himself up on the wall behind him. Aziraphale’s eyes darted around his friend’s face in confusion, trying but failing to meet his gaze. His breathing labored. “What? What is it? What’s wrong?”
“You’re not very convincing,” Crowley finally said. “You don’t think I can tell when you’re nervous? When you’re scared?” His hand that had been on his back holding them together moved down to his hip, making Aziraphale somehow blush more. It helped the reality of just how close they were really set in. He swallowed, hard. All that panting really dried out his mouth.
Crowley finally looked up, and their eyes met. “I can read you like a book, Angel.”
Aziraphale’s face dropped. He was right. This was wrong. And if anyone ever found out–
Crowley pushed himself off, straightening up, and Aziraphale’s hand fell from his back. He was still too shaken to move, which put the smirk back on the demon’s face as he pulled his jacket taut.
“Angels can’t be tempted, right?” He reveled in the scene for another moment before turning on his heel to leave. He called back from the main room, “We’ll take a raincheck for that tea, eh? Oh, and you should probably ice that hand.”
Aziraphale’s eyebrows furrowed until he realized his hand was still gripping the sink. He let go and saw that the edges had dug deep grooves into his palm. As he rubbed them flat, he looked up at the space where Crowley had been, and he heard the rattly front doors open, then shut.