Work Text:
“What do you mean it can’t be done?” The man on the other side of the table straightened his back, staring at Aziraphale in disbelief.
“Unfortunately it's the truth," Aziraphale explained calmly. “The official requirements for healthcare software are complicated, and given your budget and schedule –”
“We already agreed to this!” The man said with exaggerated calm. “We went through the requirements with your sales rep, Anthony Crowley, and he said this is a simple task and shouldn’t take more than five months!”
Aziraphale drew a long breath through his nose. Crowley, of course it had to be Crowley. The new guy in the sales department, who would promise potential customers just about anything to close a deal. Arrogant, annoying – and wildly, stupidly attractive.
Aziraphale hated him.
“I truly am sorry. It’s very likely there’s been a misunderstanding," he said, smiling tightly. “Your requirements are fairly simple, and they are indeed doable in the timeframe you proposed –”
“There!” The man said, clapping his hands together. “Now that’s better –”
“ – but!” Aziraphale interrupted him. “Your requirements don’t include legally mandatory features like audit logging or data encryption, and there’s not enough budget for thorough testing, which is essential if we are going to build a software that’s supposed to help with diagnostics! I’m sure Anthony told –”
“That’s not what we agreed on," the man said sternly. “We accepted your offer because of your expertise in the healthcare software area, but –”
“And that expertise is exactly why I’m –”
“So, you’re saying you can’t do what we ask.”
“Considering the schedule and –”
“Yes or no?!”
Aziraphale felt cornered, so the only thing he could say was the honest, resounding, “No.”
“I think we are done here then," the man said, standing up. “No need to see me to the door, I can find it myself.”
Aziraphale and his team were left sitting in the conference room in shocked silence. Not really the project kick-off meeting they had expected.
“Well, that went pear shaped fast,” he muttered, glancing at Anathema, who had stopped writing the meeting notes on her laptop, hands hovering over the keyboard.
“You were right though," she said reassuringly. She was the best and brightest software developer in Aziraphale’s current team. Newton, the team’s dedicated tester, nodded solemnly beside her. Aziraphale genuinely liked him. After a couple of unfortunate mishaps as a developer he had found his true calling as a professional software tester, thriving in the position. If the software could be broken, Newt would find a way. Tracy, their fourth team member, would be on vacation until next week.
“Thank you," Aziraphale sighed. “Looks like the project isn’t kicking off as planned. I think I have to go to talk to Gabriel about this.”
“Good luck with that," Newton said with compassion, gathering his notebook and pencil in his backpack. He liked to write his notes by hand.
Aziraphale nodded in thanks, and stood up. He had an angry email to send, and an unpleasant chat with the company CEO to muddle through.
***
Two weeks later the project, against all odds, started, and Aziraphale had his hands full designing the software’s architecture and getting the team on the right track. He was so deep in thought, fingers flying on the keyboard, that he failed to notice someone stepping into his team’s office room.
“Hey Angel, that was one hell of an email you sent!”
Aziraphale startled and turned around, immediately noticing Crowley leaning casually on the door frame. His red hair was tousled just artistically enough that it must’ve taken ages to prepare. And how on Earth did he manage to squeeze himself in those tight –
“Angel?” Aziraphale blurted cleverly, when his brain finally processed what was just said.
“Yeah, you know, the saviour of the project.”
Crowley’s grin had no right to be that cool.
“Oh, that was nothing," Aziraphale muttered. Actually he had spent almost a whole workday writing and rewriting that email, patiently explaining all the important bits of designing, auditing and publishing a healthcare software, and why each phase took a lot of time and effort.
He had sent it to Crowley and Gabriel to explain why he said what he did, and if the email had a couple of passive aggressive comments, well, to his defence, before the rewrites there were many more. Mostly about how the sales department should ask the developers before making any schedule promises... Aziraphale was actually rather proud of the email, not that he would tell Crowley that.
Gabriel had of course read only half of it, and immediately forwarded it to the customer with the comments and all. Thank Lord the customer seemed to value blunt honesty, and somehow, after some phone calls from Gabriel and Crowley, things calmed down enough for the project to actually start.
“That email wasn’t supposed to go to the customer," Aziraphale added, since Crowley was still standing there, watching him with an unreadable expression. Really, what kind of a person wore sunglasses indoors?
“Yeeeah, I figured," Crowley said languidly and pushed his hands into his too tight pockets. “Gave us a piece of your mind, you did. Was a bit surprised, y’don’t look like someone who would…” Crowley ended his sentence in a vague handwave. “Y’know.”
“Express an honest opinion?” Aziraphale asked, tartly. “Or explain how the plan you had agreed on was quite impossible?”
“You're a right bastard, aren’t you?” Crowley asked, sounding delighted of all things. He was still smiling the toothy smile that made Aziraphale feel prickly and unsteady.
“If you are quite done," he huffed. “I am rather busy.”
Crowley’s smile faltered just a bit. Aziraphale told himself it was a good thing.
“Well, anyway," the redhead said, straightening up. “Thanks for saving our arses, see ya, angel!”
When he finally left, Aziraphale sighed and took a calming sip of his lukewarm tea. Angel? Really…
“He’s flirting with you," Anathema said from her own desk, and Aziraphale almost dropped his mug. When did she take her headphones off?
“Don’t be absurd, my dear," Aziraphale huffed and went back to work.
***
Several weeks later Aziraphale stood by the coffee machine, waiting for his mug to be filled with the foul liquid. He was a tea person, through and through, but with the day he’d just had? He needed something stronger.
He had just resolved a huge merge conflict from their version control system because Tracy committed weeks worth of code to the master branch at once. It had taken almost a whole day, which he should’ve used to refactor their analysis algorithm, since it had severe performance issues with certain types of data.
He glanced at the clock wistfully. He might as well work late today to catch up. The project was a bit behind the schedule, and it wasn’t like he had anything else going on in his life.
He took his mug and turned on his heels in determination – and promptly collided with someone.
That someone being Anthony Crowley, whose black, stylish shirt was now stained with disgusting automat coffee.
Aziraphale felt his whole face turn hot in mortification. “I’m so sorry!” he gasped. “Here, let me –”
“Shit, ’s hot!” Crowley hissed at the same time, and yanked the drenched fabric off his skin.
Aziraphale pulled a tartan patterned handkerchief from his pocket, and tried to hastily wipe the liquid off. It didn’t do much good, but had the unfortunate consequence – which Aziraphale realised a moment too late – that his fingers were rubbing on Crowley’s extremely fit stomach, just above the belt buckle, and the damp fabric left absolutely nothing up for imagination.
Aziraphale dropped his hands in embarrassed shock.
“I’m so sorry, I was so distracted. I didn’t notice you, and – “
“It’s all right, I have a spare shirt in my office,” Crowley reassured him, recovering from the situation infuriatingly fast.
“Oh, that’s good!” Aziraphale said, but the small source of relief didn’t do much to abate his nervous ticks and racing heart. “You simply must let me take this one to the cleaner," he insisted, wringing the handkerchief in his hands. His almost empty mug was forgotten somewhere on the counter where he hastily ditched it after the incident.
Crowley glanced at him curiously, and Aziraphale wanted to yank the obnoxious glasses off his face. Of all the people in the whole office he could’ve spilled the coffee over, it had to be Crowley?!
“You really don’t have to," he said, not unkindly, “‘t was an accident, I could’ve spilled it myself just as well.”
“Please," Aziraphale continued, trying to gain even a resemblance of composure. “It’s the least I could do.”
“Wellll, if you insist," Crowley said after a beat, turning to walk away and motioning at Aziraphale. "C'mon."
That’s how Aziraphale ended up in Crowley’s office room. It was identical to the one Aziraphale shared with his team, but shared with three people instead of four. Crowley’s desk was in neat order with no personal touch whatsoever, and that was pretty much all Aziraphale had time to perceive before his attention was rudely yanked elsewhere.
When the door closed behind them, Crowley threw his expensive, stylish glasses unceremoniously on his desk and yanked the soiled shirt over his head, leaving a startled Aziraphale looking at his bare skin.
“I was actually fortunate, y’know," Crowley said, like nothing significant had just happened. Aziraphale dragged his eyes away, but the damage was done and the image was permanently burned into his mind. The wiry arms and nicely muscled chest with just enough hair, and the muted pink of the nipples, reacting to the sudden coolness of the –
“F – fortunate?” He managed, cursing himself inwardly.
He could see from the corner of his eye how Crowley was buttoning up the new shirt, thankfully hiding the distracting skin under a layer of black fabric.
“I was looking for you!” Crowley said, grinning confidently. Aziraphale bit his lip. What he really wanted was to run away and never see the man again, but he was a professional. He could do this. He looked up, managing eye contact – and it actually was eye contact this time, since Crowley’s glasses were still on the desk, and his eyes were light, almost yellowish brown, and –
“Your customer called me," Crowley continued, thankfully interrupting Aziraphale’s spiralling thoughts. “He’s very pleased with what you’ve done so far, and he wants to extend the project a bit. A new integration to their mobile app.”
“Oh," Aziraphale said, and then – using a considerable amount of mental force – took a hold of his professional self and pulled it from the gutter his mind had decided to deteriorate in. “I can give you a schedule and budget estimates, if you can send me the details.”
That’s it. He was proud of his calm tone.
“That’s exactly what I hoped for," Crowley said, smiling again. “See, I learnt my lesson about not asking you before agreeing to anything! There.” Crowley handed the stained shirt to Aziraphale, and winked before putting his glasses back on. “Thanks angel! I’ll send you the details by email.”
Aziraphale left the room wondering if one could die of mortification, and if so, why couldn’t it happen faster.
***
After the coffee incident Aziraphale had to admit to himself that he had a crush – purely physical, thank you very much, the man was terribly annoying – and he absolutely hated it. For the next week he tried to drown the feeling in his work, but the man kept popping up! By the coffee machine, in the lunch canteen, on the bus stop by their office…
Aziraphale wanted to yell at Crowley for shaking his mental balance like this, but it was getting harder and harder to be angry at him. The man had been very understanding about the shirt too – Aziraphale had returned it to him two days ago – and he was really apt at asking questions. It truly sounded like he wanted to learn.
So when Anathema said it was incredibly thoughtful of Crowley to ask Aziraphale’s opinion about extending the deal, Aziraphale was – begrudgingly – inclined to agree.
Then he read his email.
***
“Didn’t you read a word I wrote to you?” He snapped immediately after barging into Crowley’s office. The man was on the phone, and stared at Aziraphale with – damn those glasses!
Crowley made quick excuses to whoever he was calling to, and hung up.
“Huh?” he said, looking positively innocent.
Aziraphale was fuming.
“The deal extension. I just got the details, I told you it will take at least one man-month and we have our hands filled for at least a month!”
“...and that’s what I told the customer," Crowley said, looking slightly defensive. Aziraphale told himself he was glad to see cracks in that confidence.
“Then how do you explain the schedule written on the new contract?!” he snapped. “We have deliverables due in a month, we're behind schedule with all hands working and the new feature takes an entire month from one dedicated developer. So why does that contract say the new feature is ALSO due at the same time?”
Crowley blinked – Aziraphale supposed he blinked, anyway, since his cheeks twitched – before smiling that boyish smile again. Aziraphale wanted to throttle him.
“Gabriel hasn’t told you yet?” he said, sounding slightly apologetic. “He promised a new person to your team, so you’ll have enough people to finish everything.”
For a moment Aziraphale was speechless.
“...do you have any idea how much time it takes to introduce a new member to a team?” he asked in disbelief. “To familiarise themself with the codebase and the features?”
Crowley pushed his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “Gabriel thought it was a good idea.”
Aziraphale took a deep breath. “I’ll – all right. Well. I’ll talk to him, but – it’s simple really, during the orientation time they’ll require a lot of help from old team members, so for the first weeks the team ends up with less productive time than they had before the new person joined.”
“Huh, well, didn’t think of that," Crowley said, sounding slightly contrite. “Adding new people actually slows you down?”
“In the short term, yes," Aziraphale said, pinching the ridge of his nose and trying to stay calm. “And you put the deadline on top of our previous deadline – next month. Which we're already struggling to meet!”
“Shit, yeah, that sounds bad," Crowley said, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “I’m sorry – I told Gabriel about the issue, and he said not to worry because he’d find a new person to help your team. Should’ve known. Between us, he’s a bit of a tosser.”
Aziraphale of course agreed, but didn’t want to admit agreeing to anything with Crowley.
“You know what, we could come to an arrangement!” Crowley suddenly continued. “You could join me with the important negotiation meetings, I could do the selling part, and you’d be the voice of reason. That would work perfectly!”
Aziraphale was so stressed about the project and the whole situation that even the thought of spending more time with Crowley – or worse, traveling with Crowley to the meetings – sounded like a form of torture especially designed for him.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea," Aziraphale said as calmly as he could, but Crowley wasn’t having it.
“Naaaaah," he said, and that infuriating smile was back. “Why not? We would make a good team!”
“No we wouldn’t! I don’t even like you!” Aziraphale blurted defensively, definitely not watching how Crowley uncrossed his long legs under his desk and tilted his head, displaying the attractive line of his neck.
“You doooo.”
Aziraphale stared at him, trying to figure out something clever to say. He failed, so he just let out a frustrated groan before storming out of the office.
It was only when he sat at his own desk again that he remembered Crowley’s last words, figured out several nifty comebacks – and realised he hadn’t even denied it before running away.
Fuck.
***
The last months of the project were hell. Someone clever once said that in software projects you spend 80% of the time doing the last 20% of the work, and Aziraphale wanted to kick that person for being so right.
The schedule didn’t hold, the customer was getting impatient and the new guy – an old school developer called Shadwell – refused to touch Windows PC’s, and spent almost two weeks setting up the development environment on his Arch Linux. Thankfully Tracy seemed to have the patience to deal with him, because after the first days Aziraphale was ready to just crawl under his own desk and never come out.
But somehow they made it. Two months late, sure, but finally the software was up and running on the production servers, and the first end-users were actually using it and not hating the experience.
After all the problems during the project, Aziraphale counted that as a win.
Even the customer was happy in the end, so Gabriel decided to reward the team with a dinner in a nice restaurant Aziraphale hadn't yet visited. He was happy about it for exactly one day, before he realised Crowley was also invited. The dream of having a nice night out with his colleagues turned immediately into a grim expectation of awkwardness.
Aziraphale had managed to avoid Crowley for weeks after the arrangement conversation – it had required some creativity – until he started recovering from the embarrassment enough to see the merits in Crowley's suggestion.Co-operating with the sales department like that would help prevent the exact kind of disasters that had put Aziraphale on edge and fouled his mood for months.
After another week he finally felt confident he could push his unfortunate and unprofessional crush aside, apologise, and accept the offer. Except, at some point, Crowley had stopped following him around and suddenly Aziraphale was unable to catch him for a private chat at all. All in all, that didn’t exactly bode well for the dinner.
Bugger.
***
The dinner went as well as company dinners usually did. They sat down, congratulated each other for a job well done, and then proceeded to lament about whichever thing they each found stressful in the project while eating their dinner, and sharing their experiences.
Gabriel left promptly after the desserts, but not before giving a well intended speech about alcohol’s adverse effects on the quality of sleep. After that, the atmosphere got less formal, and Aziraphale ordered another glass of wine out of spite.
Crowley sat the whole evening on the opposite side of the table, as far away from Aziraphale as he possibly could, chatting animatedly with others, and barely acknowledging Aziraphale's presence. Aziraphale told himself he didn't care.
He proceeded to drink, feeling slightly sorry for himself.
In front of him, Anathema and Newt sat side by side making eyes at each other, and Tracy and Shadwell were talking about bungalow’s and some 60s nightclubs Aziraphale had never heard of. He was pleased to see the beer made Shadwell more talkative. It had been slightly painful to watch Tracy masterfully dragging him into every conversation during the evening, despite his obvious reluctance.
Before Aziraphale had time to wonder where Crowley had slipped, the man in question appeared beside him, holding a nice glass of port.
"A peace offering," he said. “May I join you for a bit?”
Aziraphale blinked several times at the uncharacteristically humble gesture, before he finally remembered to nod.
Crowley sighed, flopping on a chair next to him. “‘m sorry," he said immediately. “Whatever I said, I didn’t mean – but obviously I offended you, so… sorry.”
Whatever Aziraphale had expected from the interaction, an apology wasn’t it. If anything, Aziraphale felt slightly bad at how he had treated Crowley. The man was new in his position, and had tried his best. It wasn’t his fault Aziraphale’s improper crush and the stress caused by the project made him extra prickly and needlessly defensive.
Well, not completely his fault, anyway.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about," Aziraphale said, and was decidedly not looking at how the open shirt buttons revealed a narrow v of Crowley’s throat and chest. “And thank you.”
The port was quite heavenly, at least Crowley had a good taste in drinks.
“Come on now," Crowley said, taking a gulp of his own drink. “You switched to the other side of the road when you noticed me coming. If that’s not avoiding, then dunno what is.”
Aziraphale blushed, wishing he could blame the alcohol for it. He rubbed his nose in shame.
“Well, when you put it like that," Aziraphale sighed, once again hoping the ground would swallow him up.
It didn’t.
“It wasn’t… Well, I wasn’t – necessarily – angry with you,” he had to admit. “I even came to consider your suggestion about that arrangement, but then you – well.”
Crowley’s eyebrow rose above his glasses again, and Aziraphale had to look away. Looking at it now, Crowley had probably tried to be considerate, took the hint, and stayed away from him on purpose. That was… sort of endearing.
“I believe I made a bit of a mess of things," Aziraphale sighed, and took a hefty gulp of some liquid courage. “But you are so – so ridiculously…” arrogant, confident, stylish…
“Yes?”
“Attractive!” Aziraphale blurted, before he could stop himself. "I mean – "
"I knew it!" Crowley said, and some of that reckless confidence was back in his posture. "I knew I caught you looking!"
"You stripped your shirt off right in front of me! What was I –"
"Before that!" Crowley continued. "On my first day, by the kitchen counter. You were the first – "
"I was just being polite!"
"If you say so," Crowley answered with an infuriating grin, and lowered his glasses to wink.
Aziraphale was mortified. "And what of it," he muttered defensively. "I was just looking, you must be used to that. It’s not a crime, is it?"
"Nope, especially since I was looking right back."
"...you… what?!"
Crowley snorted. "Come on, I used every possible chance to flirt with – "
"You call that flirting?!" Aziraphale asked incredulously. Things like this didn't happen to him.
"Nnnyeah," Crowley said, some uncertainty returning to his voice. "When you didn't do anything about it I thought I had read the situation wrong, or maybe you weren't out – "
"I've been openly gay long before you were born," Aziraphale answered tartly and finished his wine. His heart was racing, he was flirting with Crowley, wasn't he?
"Now there's the bastard angel I like to see," Crowley said, his chuckle making butterflies flutter in Aziraphale's stomach. "How young do you think I am?"
Aziraphale pursed his lips. This was dangerous, this was a coworker, an exquisitely attractive coworker who was somehow flirting with Aziraphale of all things. The tension between them crackled.
"Can't be a day over thirty five," he finally said.
"Flatterer," Crowley answered, stretching his long limbs and resting his arm on the back of Aziraphale’s chair. "And wrong. Forty one."
The numbers were whispered into his ear, as Crowley leaned closer. Aziraphale shivered and looked away. There was nothing accidental in the way Crowley spread his thighs, and Aziraphale wanted to reach out and –
"Shit, did I make you uncomfortable again?" Crowley asked, suddenly sounding unsure. "I'm not – shit, I'm not good at this, just tell me to fuck off and I will."
Aziraphale looked at him, really looked, noticing the small signs of nervousness for the first time – and he began to wonder if Crowley wasn't actually as arrogant as the first impression had let on.
"You’re doing just fine," Aziraphale answered truthfully, blushing slightly. "I'm just wondering what you’re trying to tempt me into."
"Let's go on a date?" Crowley asked. "I mean… if you want something casual, that's okay, but – I like you."
Aziraphale lifted his eyebrow, trying to keep calm. He had hesitated initially, never good with casual flings, but if Crowley wanted –
"After I was such an arse to you?" Aziraphale had to ask.
"Weeellll," he said, blushing a little. "Your brand of bastardry might be exactly my type. I like my men with some fire in them. And the looks don't hurt."
The sultry look he gave made Aziraphale tremble.
"You make a habit of seducing your coworkers?" he asked, leaning closer.
Crowley's chuckle was low and sensuous, as he shook his head. "You’re an exception."
Aziraphale knew he probably should've waited, they had only agreed on a date, but – he had thought of those lips too often lately, and the opportunity was too delicious.
"Then catch me," he said breathlessly, and leaned to kiss the grin off those lips.
And Crowley caught him, pulled him closer and kissed him, hand on his cheek, sliding to the nape of his neck, and Aziraphale was burning at the touch. The underlying tension between them sparked, and for exactly one minute and twenty seconds they were able to explore, to learn the shape of the other, and kiss and kiss…
Then a loud whistle interrupted them, reminding them they weren't alone at the table. Aziraphale pulled away hastily to look at the others and blushed furiously. Anathema and Newt were grinning and clapping, Tracy looked delighted, and even Shadwell managed to look less grumpy. Though maybe in his case it was the alcohol.
"Finally," Tracy said, smiling at them rather motherly. "I've been waiting for this for a while now!"
"Get a room boys," Anathema joined her teasing, and winked salaciously.
"Dear lord," Aziraphale muttered with burning cheeks, and wished he hadn't already finished his drinks.
"Let's go for a walk," Crowley whispered to his ear, and Aziraphale had never heard a better idea.
***
Their walk ended up being a rather short one. During the stroll through the nearby park they talked and laughed, and Aziraphale began to realise his crush was definitely not just physical.
Crowley was funny, witty and sarcastic, and seemed actually interested in what Aziraphale had to say.
As they talked about their shared interests, they ended up holding hands, until those hands travelled to waists – and very soon they were kissing behind a park info sign like teenagers.
"I – my flat's not far," Crowley whispered breathlessly in Aziraphale's ear. "We could go and chat, have some drinks?"
Aziraphale snorted. He was still slightly tipsy, but felt more drunk from the way Crowley obviously desired him.
"Is that what you young ones call it these days? Chatting?"
Crowley chuckled against his neck. "Two years!" he said, "you don't get to call me young!"
Aziraphale's witty comeback changed into a quiet moan as Crowley pressed closer, and Aziraphale could feel the obvious signs of his interest against his own. He caught Crowley's lips into another kiss, hands travelling down his back but not quite daring to sneak under the clothes in such a public place.
"So, chat and drinks?" He asked after they pulled away and pretended to be decent as one late dog walker went past.
Crowley grinned mischievously. "Anything you want."
In barely fifteen minutes they were snogging in the elevator of Crowley's building. Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley's shoulders and spread his legs to invite him closer. Crowley complied enthusiastically. His hands tugged and slithered under Aziraphale's shirt and caressed his soft belly, making him tremble.
From the corner of his eye Aziraphale saw them on the full body mirror that was the elevator wall, and gasped. Crowley seemed to sense his change in attention, turning to look as well.
What a picture they made. The way Crowley pinned him against the wall, pressing their hips together, the way his red locks had escaped from his bun, how their chests were heaving and how the shared desire shone on their faces.
Aziraphale disliked mirrors in general, but a view like this?
It was surprisingly exhilarating. It was hot.
Their eyes locked through the reflection – those damn glasses had been discarded some time ago – and in a sudden bout of boldness Aziraphale slid his palm against Crowley's chest, let his fingers slide over a nipple through the thin fabric, and then lower, on the stomach, between their bodies, and downwards, until he could press his palm against the cock that was now straining those ridiculously tight jeans.
Crowley's eyes never left him in the mirror. He pressed against the touch and moaned, lashes fluttering, and Aziraphale couldn't help but pull him into another kiss.
It grew open mouthed and greedy, and would've turned properly indecent if the elevator speaker hadn't interrupted them, announcing their arrival to Crowley's floor.
The next moment was a flurry of movement and giggles, some dropped keys and stolen kisses, until they finally got inside. Crowley's hands were on Aziraphale's belt buckle almost before the door shut behind them.
"Tell me," Crowley said, sucking kisses down Aziraphale's already bared shoulder. "What can I do for you? What do you need?"
"Do you have a bed in here?"
"What do you take me for? A vampire?"
"Hmm? No, I have rather hard proof that there's blood in your veins."
Crowley snorted, but his laugh turned into a broken moan as Aziraphale managed to open his fly and get his hand into the tight jeans.
"Bedroom?" Aziraphale asked, as Crowley trembled under his touch.
"Yes!"
They scattered the rest of their clothes onto the floor as Aziraphale let Crowley tug him through the door at the end of the corridor. Crowley's bedroom was tidy and sparsely decorated, but Aziraphale didn't really have the thought capacity to spare on home decor. Crowley pushed him on the bed, crawling on him. Aziraphale enjoyed his weight and let his own hands wander, pressing into the dimples of Crowley's lower back and squeezing the curve of a buttock. Crowley groaned and panted against him, making Aziraphale's stomach tighten.
When Crowley took a hold of Aziraphale's hair and bit onto his throat, just above the collarbone, Aziraphale moaned loudly, his back arching involuntarily.
Crowley pulled away slightly and grinned.
"See, could be a vampire!"
Aziraphale chuckled breathlessly. When was the last time he had laughed like this during sex?
"Vampires bite harder," he said pointedly, and enjoyed the delighted glint in Crowley's eyes.
"Like this?" He said, biting Aziraphale again, just a bit harder. Aziraphale was shaking, embarrassingly close and needy, considering they hadn't done much beyond undressing and aggressive snogging.
Crowley continued downwards, licking, biting and sucking. When he got to the nipples, giving the first one an appreciative suck, Aziraphale cried out. He tried to wrap his leg around Crowley to pull him closer, but Crowley only chuckled and continued with his teasing.
Aziraphale had never had his belly kissed before. He threw his arm over his face, trying to keep his wits about him, but Crowley seemed to be determined to wreck him. The next kiss landed on his thigh. Aziraphale felt Crowley's hair tickling his aching cock and his toes curled in anticipation. An embarrassingly loud moan escaped his lips as Crowley licked a stripe down the soft skin of his inner thigh.
Then the teasing paused for a moment. "You don't have tan lines anywhere!"
Aziraphale burst into almost hysterical giggles. "I'm a software designer, don't you know our kind avoids the sun."
"So you’re the vampire?"
Aziraphale tried to contain his laughter and failed. "Are you always this impossible between the sheets?"
Crowley looked at him seriously. "In case you haven't noticed, we are still on the sheets."
Dear lord he was going to fall in love with this ridiculous man, Aziraphale thought with an exasperated groan, and reached for Crowley to roll them over.
"Point proven," he muttered against the damp skin of Crowley's chest, proceeding to leave a heated trail of kisses on it. "Impossible."
Aziraphale's lips felt the ripples of Crowley's answering laugh before he heard it, and he hid his smile by inching lower still.
"Your turn to tell me what you like," he said, kissing the spot right under Crowley's navel, and let his breath ghost over the hard cock below.
"Hnnn – y'never answered when I asked!" Crowley whined.
"You were doing just fine."
Another kiss, a bit closer still.
"Yeah?" Crowley breathed, trembling under Aziraphale's touch. "Teasing you until – forever?! Wh – what else?"
"Do you have a condom?"
"Wha – yeah.. yeah, just a sec."
Crowley rolled over to his nightstand and threw a packet of condoms and lube on the sheets. "What's the plan?"
Aziraphale smiled and bit open the foil. "I'd like to show you what I like," he said, and made an unmistakable gesture with his tongue. Crowley blinked and sank back on his pillows with a groan. "If you are amenable, of course," Aziraphale had to add.
Crowley's eyes snapped open. "Are you kidding?! Yes, yes! Amenable, eager, fucking enthusiastic – d'you have any idea how much I've thought of your mouth?! Because I have, a lot."
Aziraphale bit his lip to hide a smile. The thrill of being desired never got old.
"Then it's a good thing I've spent a lot of time thinking about spreading your legs," he said roughly, laying his palm on the warm thigh. "And tasting the goods."
Crowley was positively shaking, as Aziraphale rolled the condom on and licked his cock from root to tip.
"I also know how to tease," he continued, and proceeded to do just that.
It didn't take long for Crowley to start pleading. His other hand was clutching the sheets desperately, and the other was laying on Aziraphale's head, fingers entwined in the curls.
Aziraphale almost purred at the sensation, and took Crowley deeper into his mouth, gently rolling his tongue around the thick head.
"Ang – angel – fuck yes, please – more – so good, so fucking good.."
Crowley's pleas and moans sent shivers through Aziraphale, reminding him of his own need he had pushed aside for the moment. Christ the man was so expressive!
Aziraphale sped up the pace just enough to get Crowley on the edge before slowing down again, repeating it until Crowley got so sensitive that even the smallest roll of the tongue made him squirm and gasp for air.
"Please – please, fuck, I need – yes – oh – oh..ffffuck…"
Aziraphale could have drawn it out even longer, he almost wanted to, but Crowley's moans and the tightening hold on his hair didn't do any favours for his self control. And he desperately wanted to make Crowley fall apart.
He could feel Crowley's stomach muscles twitch under his palm as he sped up, gently cupping the balls as he went all in, sucked him deep and let Crowley finally thrust into his mouth to chase his pleasure.
And Crowley did. With only two erratic thrusts he was coming with hot pulses, as Aziraphale gently sucked him through it. Aziraphale himself was thankful he wasn't young anymore, because otherwise Crowley's low guttural moan would've been enough to push him over the edge too.
Aziraphale scrambled up to kiss Crowley, not capable of waiting any more. He tried to keep it tender, to let Crowley enjoy the glow and come down gently, but Crowley wasn't having it. He snatched the used condom and threw it somewhere over his shoulder before pressing against Aziraphale, thigh between his legs.
"Tell me angel – what can I – let me – " he mumbled breathlessly, hands roaming on Aziraphale's skin, making him tremble with need.
"Don't need much," Aziraphale answered between the kisses. "Just – a hand. And kiss me while – yes –"
With some kind of miracle Crowley apparently managed to get the lube bottle open, because when he wrapped his fingers around Aziraphale's cock the touch was cool and slick, and Aziraphale saw stars.
He forgot about the kissing, and just gasped and moaned against Crowley's cheek.
"Oh – I – I – " he was beyond words. A strong arm wrapped around him. Holding him, grounding – there was nothing else but that, and the slick fist he was now thrusting into with desperate snaps of his hips.
Crowley whispered something to his ear, compliments? Encouragement? Aziraphale pulled him back into a kiss, fingers in his hair, sobbing against his lips as the final wave of pleasure flooded over him and he came all over Crowley's hand, stomach and sheets.
Usually Aziraphale would've felt even a bit self conscious about that, but somehow, right now, it didn't matter the slightest.
They were silent for a moment, and Aziraphale worried when the usual post-coital new-partner awkwardness would creep in. But it didn't. Crowley kept holding him close, and when their eyes met again, they burst into sated giggles.
"We never agreed on when to have that date," Crowley finally said.
"We didn't."
"What would you say about a breakfast in my kitchen tomorrow morning – well, technically today, but.. y'know."
The butterflies in Aziraphale's stomach exploded into full motion again, and he couldn't hide the dopey smile that spread on his face.
"I'd be delighted!"
***
Two months later they sat side by side in a conference room, facing yet another potential customer.
"This kind of work can't possibly cost the amount you are asking," the customer's representative said with a severe frown.
Crowley flashed a disarming smile. "We can of course negotiate about some aspects – "
"Yes," Aziraphale interrupted him gently. "You'll definitely want to negotiate the details with Anthony here. But it's also good to remember that with us you don't just get software that works, you get a team that has years of experience in this exact field. You can trust the end product will follow all the necessary guidelines. The quality certificates our company has earned require us to follow a certain, audited process. It makes our work more transparent, and…"
Aziraphale and Crowley shared a small smile, as Aziraphale continued his explanation. The arrangement had worked out quite well, easing off the tension between the developers and the sales department in the whole company. Even Gabriel was in favour – to the point that he started telling everyone how it had been his idea from the very beginning. Aziraphale was not pleased that Crowley didn't get the praise he deserved, but Crowley didn't seem to care and just rolled his eyes fondly at Aziraphale's annoyance.
The thing was, Crowley was right. They did make a good team; Aziraphale brought the expertise and realism, Crowley brought the charm. Neither were afraid of calling each other out in front of potential customers, showing a level of transparency that made the customers feel like they weren't being smooth-talked into bad deals. They might not get the cheapest offer, but both the customers and developers were happier when the budgets and schedules had realism in them right from the beginning.
For years to come, Crowley would keep teasing Aziraphale for ever doubting the arrangement. He could be rather obnoxious about it too, but Aziraphale knew exactly how to deal with him.
He could always steal those blasted glasses and kiss the arrogance off Crowley's face.