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“It’s probably for the best that they’re unaware of how close they came to being destroyed.” Aziraphale waves vaguely at the windows from his chair in the bookshop. “But part of me wishes they did know. The joy humans are capable of is boundless. I can just imagine how marvellous the celebrations would be. We would have so much fun with them,” he smiles. “There’d be dancing in the streets.”
Crowley eyes him suspiciously. He is slouched comfortably on the sofa, an empty bottle of prosecco in one hand, his half-filled glass in the other.
Aziraphale continues, “I danced in the streets on VE day. You were in New York, I believe. Did I tell you about that? How I enjoyed the celebration? I was quite unrestrained, you know.”
“Celebration?” Crowley huffs skeptically. He sits upright, a bit of bubbly sloshing onto his jeans. ”I think you described it as re-vel-ry.” He says the last word slowly. “And if I remember correctly, that’s not the only time you’ve revelled over the years. At the end of the second Boer War, you told me what you got up to at the Author’s club. And again, at that bar at Piccadilly Circus when the Great War ended.” He grumbles, “The end of any great battle, that’s your excuse.” He tips back his glass to finish his drink. Then a disgruntled look settles on his face.
“Well, yes,” Aziraphale starts. “I do apologise for bringing it up. I know you find my predilection for carnal indulgences distasteful. But there are plenty of other enjoyable aspects of ‘revelry’, as you put it.”
“Distasteful? That’s not—” Crowley begins. ”It’s not about how I feel about sex. It’s you. I don’t understand it. Lust is a sin, and with all your worrying over the years about doing the right thing, it just seems contradictory to me.”
“Lust, gluttony, sloth—it’s all a matter of degrees,” replies Aziraphale. He pulls the bottle from Crowley's hand and moves to pour himself another glass. He frowns when only a few drops dribble out. “When the dignity of each individual is respected, acting upon physical desire is not a sin.”
“But they’re humans, angel. They are not our equals. Indulging your desires at their expense sounds like sin to me. With sloth and gluttony, no one else gets hurt.”
“Crowley!” Aziraphale exclaims, aghast. “I can’t believe you would think that of me. I indulge my desires at no one’s expense. I always take great care! I would never engage in the amorous arts with someone who knew I was an angel. Furthermore, I require enthusiastic consent from my lovers, and we must equally feel genuine affection and fervent desire. It needs to be a joyous thing. I want nothing to do with it if it is not. Everyone always walks away satisfied and happy.”
After remaining silent for a moment, Crowley’s face softens.
He finally speaks. “Fervent desire, huh? I’ve never felt fervent desire for a human before. I mean, they did for me. But I was always on the job, and the sin was the point.”
“Oh, Crowley. It doesn’t have to be about sin. It should be about love. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t let myself get entangled. I would not liaise with any human more than one or two times, lest they get attached, but I did love each of them in my way.”
“Hhm,” Crowley considers. “Well, I’m sorry I doubted you, angel. But I still don’t see the appeal of humans. I have as much desire to fuck a human as you do to eat a rock. Indifferent, that’s what I am.”
“Well, I am certainly not indifferent. Fucking a human sounds much more appealing than eating rocks,” Aziraphale says. Then, as if scolding himself, “Oh! Language. It appears I’m more drunk than I realized.”
Aziraphale pauses before continuing, forgetting himself. “In fact, right now, fucking a human sounds much more appealing than any food, even tiramisu. Or creme brulee. Besides, I couldn't eat another bite after that delicious meal… But oh, maybe I could go buy some macarons from Jonathan. He tells me they're his best seller.” Aziraphale is rambling now. He eyes Crowley with a hint of hesitation on his face. “Jonathan owns the bakery two blocks over. He comes by every Tuesday and looks through the cooking section. I think he fancies me. It's not as if I have a lot of cookbooks, and I never get new titles in.”
Aziraphale sighs. “He is very pretty.”
“You're horny, angel.” Crowley states calmly, with a hint of a smile on his face.
“Yes, I believe I suggested as much when I started talking about past celebrations. But, as I said, I need to be careful with him. He’s a human.” he says as if imparting new information. “And besides, I should probably be a little bit more sober.”
“Not now, angel. You're celebrating with me and that means more alcohol. We need another bottle.” Crowley stands and heads toward the back room. Aziraphale watches him with a wide grin on his face as he admires Crowley’s gait.
“So humans aside, you’re not repulsed by thoughts of the act itself?” Aziraphale asks when Crowley returns with a new bottle of prosecco. “You used that exact word, ‘repulsed’, when you told me you stopped doing those types of temptations.”
“No. You’ve got it wrong. I was repulsed at the outcome. The humans I bedded, they ended up feeling betrayed—if not by me, then by themselves. And after I was the one who had made them feel safe.”
Aziraphale nods sympathetically. He waits, suspecting this might mean something more. But he's afraid to hope.
Crowley pops the bottle and serves them both generous pours. “As for sexual relations in general, I’m not repulsed. In fact…” he hesitates and looks pointedly into his glass. “I might see the appeal…with an appropriate non-human, of course. Debauchery of all sorts is great for celebrations. Sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll and all that. Except maybe substitute wine and swing dancing for you…and pretty pastry chefs.” Crowley settles back into the sofa.
Aziraphale smiles, deciding to be bold. “If I left right now to bed Jonathan, would you be jealous?”
Crowley’s head shoots up. “Aziraphale!” He exclaims, then stops, his mouth agape. After a moment he closes his mouth and seems to collect himself. “That would be rude. We're in the middle of something here.”
Aziraphale shakes his head. “You didn't answer the question.”
Crowley slowly answers. “I don't know. I don't think it's jealousy. I'm more curious. I've never— Your enthusiasm, it’s—ngk…I've never enjoyed sex like you seem to. I've never had anyone to enjoy it with."
Crowley stops and seems to collect his thoughts. Abruptly he says, “Do you think my corporation is pretty, angel?”
Aziraphale laughs. “I can't believe you have to ask that. Haven't you noticed? Sometimes it must be written quite plainly on my face. Despite how much I try to keep it from you. Out of respect, I have endeavoured to keep my admiration to myself, being that I assumed you'd be repulsed."
“I'd never be repulsed by you,” Crowley answers quietly.
Aziraphale straightens, putting his glass on the table. “Crowley, I wish to be frank,” he says. “I think your corporation is beautiful. I think you are beautiful. And alluring. I must confess that I’ve been curious. Curious about what it would be like to take pleasure in your body. With you, an individual who is more than my equal. Someone I, perhaps, wouldn't have to be so careful with.” Aziraphale pauses and searches Crowley's face. “But, before today, I thought you wouldn't take any joy in that, so I tried not to think about it.”
Crowley is very still, as if he is afraid to move. He doesn't say a word.
“Do you think, Crowley, since you're curious and I'm curious, and we both want to continue our celebration…” Aziraphale hesitates.
“Yes.” Crowley fills the gap quickly, not allowing Aziraphale the chance to continue.
“Yes?” says Aziraphale. “You didn't even let me ask.”
“Yes.” Crowley nods reassuringly. “I know what you're asking, angel. Carnal indulgences. Amorous arts. Revelry. With me.” He grins, takes off his sunglasses, and leans towards the angel.
“But Crowley, I need to know.” A flush rises up Aziraphale’s neck and onto his face, his breath quickening. “Your affection for me is evident, but what about mutual fervent desire? As for me, I’m quite aroused. But I need more than your curiosity.”
“Ngk.” Crowley reaches out his hand. “Come to the sofa. Let's see if I can show you."
Aziraphale sits next to Crowley, facing forwards with the side of his thigh pressed tightly against Crowley's. He trembles slightly, and clasps his hands together tightly in his lap as if he doesn't trust them not to reach out on their own. He angles the top of his body toward Crowley, and keeps his hands still as he feels himself growing hard.
Crowley lifts his hand and cups Aziraphale's right cheek. They stare into each other's eyes for what seems like forever. Finally, Aziraphale shifts uncomfortably and averts his gaze. “We're not doing anything, Crowley. I don't think this is working for you. You're not feeling desirous.”
“What?!” Crowley exclaims, tightly grabbing Aziraphale by the shoulders. “I was looking at you, admiring you.” Then he adds almost inaudibly, “I think you're beautiful too.”
Aziraphale sighs and smiles while he lets himself fall into Crowley. He angles his legs inward but can't seem to find a good place for them. “Do you want to kiss me, Crowley?”
“Yes, I want everything, angel. I just…I'm not as primed for this as you are. You’re all riled up. You’ve just got to give me a moment to catch up.” Crowley moves his hands from Aziraphale's shoulders to hold both sides of his face. He angles his head to the side, and then they are kissing. At first, Aziraphale's body feels uncomfortably contorted; then he lifts his leg over Crowley's, and he climbs into his lap. The kiss is soft and warm and gentle, but Aziraphale is impatient and presses into Crowley's mouth with his tongue. Crowley mews softly, and then the sound slides into a groan as he deepens the kiss himself.
Aziraphale gasps and leans back, smiling brightly. “Crowley! I can feel your desire.” He rolls his hips experimentally, and Crowley shudders. “I surmise by its hardness that your desire is quite fervent.” He looks pleased with himself.
“Yes, fervent, I can agree with that assessment." Crowley smiles, panting lightly. “Well, then, angel.” He is staring at the angel’s lips. “Now that you are assured that this is not just curiosity, can we let the revelry begin?“
Aziraphale lights up, almost glowing and wiggles his shoulders. “Certainly, my dear. This is turning out to be quite a joyous celebration!”