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Not that he would ever admit it out loud, but Crowley was quite nervous when he arrived at the bookshop that night, the cool breeze making him shiver lightly as he pulled his coat closer. Underneath it, he was wearing a long satin dress in a rich, deep scarlet colour, and his heels were clinking rhythmically on the asphalt with each step he took.
Once those steps took him to the bookshop’s door, he inhaled deeply. Yes, he was nervous. Of course he was. How could he not be? Aziraphale had asked him out on a date after thousands of years. Well… okay, maybe it couldn’t exactly be called a date . But it couldn’t not be called that either. Aziraphale had wanted to thank him for saving his books from that explosion, and for agreeing to help him out with his magic act, by inviting him over for dinner. And Crowley, being the lovesick fool that he was, had accepted. After everything, if he wanted to think of it as a date, it was well within his rights, he thought.
And that was why he had got all dolled up for the occasion. But as he was standing there in front of the door, he was starting to regret that decision. Aziraphale likely wasn’t expecting to see him like this. He should’ve just played it safe and worn a suit instead.
Shaking the thought away and taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door. He knew the ‘closed’ sign on it wasn’t meant for him, but he still figured he should announce to Aziraphale that he was here, so that he wouldn’t be caught unprepared. For a moment, he considered changing his clothes with a quick miracle, but then the door opened and Aziraphale appeared behind it.
And, oh, Aziraphale’s eyes lit up when he saw him, causing Crowley’s face to warm up in such a way that even the air outside didn’t feel so chilly anymore. Maybe he had been getting worried for nothing, after all.
“Oh, Crowley, I’m so glad you could make it,” Aziraphale said, and Crowley could see Aziraphale’s eyes moving up and down slowly, taking him in, as his now open coat revealed the silky dress underneath. “You look absolutely gorgeous.”
“Really?” It came out more self-conscious than he had intended, and Crowley mentally slapped himself for it. “I mean, it’s not my usual look, and the last time we saw each other–“
“You look equally as good now as you did back then.”
Crowley didn’t know what to say, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, as he avoided looking Aziraphale in the eye. Surely, Aziraphale wasn’t flirting with him. Surely, he was just being nice, and that shouldn’t make his heart beat so fast and loud against his ribcage.
“Forgive me, how rude I am!” Aziraphale suddenly exclaimed. “I haven’t even invited you in yet, and you’re standing out in the cold. Please, my dear, come in.” A hand was gently rested on his back, and Crowley allowed it to move him inside the comfortable and warm familiarity of the bookshop.
…
The room was illuminated by the candles placed on the dinner table Aziraphale had prepared, emanating a soft glow. And the delicious, rich smell of various kinds of foods filled Crowley’s nose upon entering.
Aziraphale, ever the gentleman, pulled out a chair for Crowley to sit on, and Crowley sat down with a small smile, telling his heart to calm the fuck down. Once the glasses placed in front of them were filled with red wine, he took a sip, trying to be graceful and savour the intense burst of flavours on his tongue, while all he wanted was to gulp it down to calm his nerves.
Because everything was… well, it felt like a date. Crowley had wanted to think of it as a date, but he hadn’t expected for it to actually feel like one. Except everything from the dimmed lights to the red roses on the table screamed romantic, and Crowley desperately wished to know if he was reading too much into it or not.
His focus was sharply on Aziraphale, as it so often was. Everything else would always blur into the background. There wasn’t much talking, as Aziraphale lost himself in his food. And Crowley lost himself in Aziraphale.
He wasn’t one for eating, so he just sat there, sipping his wine. His eyes never once left Aziraphale, as Crowley was once again mesmerised by the way he was enjoying his food. The sounds he was making were downright indecent, and Crowley could feel his own face flushing, his skin feeling warm and sensitive. All he could do was not to squirm in his seat, wondering if Aziraphale would still make the same sounds if it was Crowley that he got his mouth on.
Crowley finished his glass, trying to chase the indecent thoughts away with the taste of alcohol.
…
The cushion of the sofa was soft, making Crowley sink into it more and more with every passing moment. He was sitting next to Aziraphale, elbow propped up against the backrest, and a half-filled wine glass dangling dangerously between his fingers. His glasses were long since removed, and his head felt light and hazy, a pleasant sensation that was travelling through his veins.
“So… you dress up like this sometimes?” Aziraphale had leaned in slightly, and he wasn’t any less drunk than Crowley was. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress in centuries.”
“Only for special occasions.” Crowley shrugged. “Not very often. But sometimes it just feels… right.”
Aziraphale nodded in understanding, though how much he had understood under the influence of alcohol was up for debate. “It suits you…”
“So, you really don’t mind it, then?” Crowley asked, and he hated how insecure his voice sounded even after a full bottle of wine.
“Mind it? Darling, no… You look beautiful,” Aziraphale said with such a warm look, that it made Crowley’s heart melt. Darling. He hadn’t heard Aziraphale call him that before. It made him feel all giddy, those stupid butterflies fluttering in his stomach, making him feel sick. Demons didn’t get butterflies. Must have just be the wine.
“Shaddap.” He waved the compliment away, sloshing the wine around. And even if a bit of it spilled on his dress, he would be too distracted to notice, his cheeks the hue of the Chateauneuf-de-Pape.
“Should I… change the way I refer to you?”
The question caught Crowley off guard, and he fumbled a little bit, taken aback by how considerate Aziraphale was. “Uh- not really necessary, I think,” he said in the end. “I mean, it’s a habit, really. Just convenient.” He wasn’t really a man or a woman; he was a demon, but he was just so used to being perceived as a man by the humans, that he didn’t really mind it.
“Alright.” Aziraphale nodded. “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
Crowley just tried to shrug off the warmth blooming inside his chest, where his traitorous heart was supposed to be, beating for someone it really shouldn’t be beating for.
Instead of thinking about this any more, he just drank more, miracling another bottle and opening it up. And Aziraphale joined him too. They sipped their wine, and talked about nothing and everything, moving onto seemingly safer topics than ones that kept reminding Crowley how hopelessly in love he was. As if he could ever forget about it.
He didn’t know how many more glasses they drank, and how much time had passed, or how they had moved even closer, but after a while, he found his head resting on Aziraphale’s shoulder. Aziraphale had one hand playing with Crowley’s scarlet locks, almost as if he wasn’t aware of what he was doing, and the sharp edges of Crowley’s consciousness were getting fuzzy.
“You’re gorgeous…” Aziraphale was whispering, and his breath was tickling him, the way his lips were so close to his skin was making Crowley’s head spin deliciously. He couldn’t even focus on a coherent thought. It was just Aziraphale everywhere, completely infiltrating his senses. The smell of his cologne mixed with expensive wine was filling his nostrils, the comforting warmth and heaviness of his hand were on Crowley’s waist, and the sweet murmur of his voice was music to his ears. Crowley was drunk on Aziraphale.
“Look at me,” Aziraphale said softly, and Crowley lifted his eyes up. He realised how close their faces were. He could feel Aziraphale’s breath on his lips, and not having his sunglasses on, he was sure Aziraphale could see the yellow irises of his eyes covering up the whites.
He wasn’t sure who bridged that miniscule gap first, but suddenly, Aziraphale’s lips were on his, and his heart skipped a beat. Or maybe multiple beats. He thought he was going to get discorporated on the spot.
Even while drunk, he understood how big this was. He had wanted to kiss Aziraphale for millenia , and it was happening now . It was so much better than he had dreamt of, and he had dreamt of it so many times. Aziraphale’s lips were soft against his, and he felt like he was floating. He had never felt so high and weightless before.
Aziraphale’s hand moved to cup his cheek, and Crowley held onto his coat tightly, not being able to help the soft moan vibrating in the back of his throat when he felt Aziraphale’s tongue prodding his lips, silently asking for permission. Crowley opened them slightly, gasping at the sensation of Aziraphale’s tongue sliding against his.
What they were doing felt both sinful and divine. He didn’t even know how they reached this point. A whine escaped him when Aziraphale nipped gently at his bottom lip. He could feel the heat pooling between his legs, soaking through his lacy underwear.
Maybe it was just an instinct, or maybe Aziraphale had sensed the arousal rolling off of him in waves, but his hand had drifted down to Crowley’s hip now, bunching the long skirts of his dress up. And Crowley’s own hands had found the buttons of Aziraphale’s shirt, trying to get them open with drunk, clumsy fingers, his movements uncoordinated and shaky.
But everything came to a stop when Aziraphale pulled away from the kiss, leaving Crowley confused and panting.
“I think we should sober up,” Aziraphale said, his expression serious. And Crowley tried his best to hide his disappointment, the way his heart had just shattered. Of fucking course Aziraphale regretted it. It was at least a good thing they had stopped before doing anything further. Crowley would definitely go all the way with Aziraphale, drunk or sober, but he could assume that Aziraphale wouldn’t want that. He was probably too drunk to fully comprehend that he had been making out with a demon–
“So that we can decide if we want to continue.” Aziraphale finished his words, and Crowley’s jaw dropped. So, Aziraphale did want this after all? Did want him?
His heart was beating so loudly in his chest, that he was pretty sure Aziraphale could hear it, but he was trying not to get his hopes up, because he wasn’t sure if he could recover from that.
Still, he nodded, and with a snap of his fingers, all the alcohol in his system was gone, leaving him awfully sober and aware of everything. Going back to reality after miraculously sobering up was the worst part.
“Now, then, since we got that out of the way,” Aziraphale began, fully sober now too, “I want to make my intentions clear. I did want to kiss you, and I would like to continue doing that, if you’re amenable. I just wanted you to be sober enough to consent to it.”
Amenable? Was Aziraphale kidding him? This was the only thing he wanted to do right now. He couldn’t even bother with formulating a proper response. Instead, he just surged forward, capturing Aziraphale’s lips with his. “Very much amenable…” He murmured in between kisses, and he could swear he felt Aziraphale smile.
Aziraphale’s strong but gentle hands pulled him closer, and soon his lips had travelled down to Crowley’s neck, leaving wet kisses behind. Crowley tilted his head to the side, exposing more of his skin to Aziraphale, as he started sucking a bruise on his throat. His pulse was beating against Aziraphale’s lips, and he pressed his legs together to alleviate the throbbing in his cunt.
He felt the zipper of his dress being pulled down, but he gently caught Aziraphale’s wrist as he was about to slide it off his shoulders. “I want to keep it on for now…” He whispered, liking the way the cool silk was gliding smoothly against his overheated skin. “You can take it off me later…”
That earned him a growl from Aziraphale, vibrating deliciously against his skin, before he went back to ravaging his neck, alternating between sucking and then licking the abused flesh. His hands were everywhere all at once, and Crowley had to grasp at the lapels of Aziraphale’s coat to keep himself grounded.
“Angel…” He breathed out, as slick gushed out of his cunt. By some miracle, Aziraphale must have realised how desperate he was, because suddenly, his hand was on the back of his thigh, pulling his leg up to rest on top of his own, and Crowley could feel the sturdy muscles underneath.
Aziraphale’s fingers were dancing over the bare skin right above his stockings in a way that was driving Crowley crazy and making him shiver with desire. He needed Aziraphale, and he needed him now. But the bastard angel was taking his time exploring, his fingertips tracing over every inch of exposed skin, while avoiding where Crowley wanted him the most.
Finally, finally, when Aziraphale’s fingers made contact with his cunt above his underwear, Crowley was ready to sob with relief.
“Oh!” Aziraphale gasped, pulling his fingers away and making Crowley choke on a frustrated groan. He held his hand up, inspecting the way his fingers were slightly glistening. “Oh, you’re positively soaked, darling.” And then, his hand was back down again. Crowley sighed, and let his head fall against Aziraphale’s shoulder, as Aziraphale started rubbing him through his underwear.
Crowley’s hips jolted a little when Aziraphale’s thumb pressed against his clit. Without even fully processing it, his hips had started to move in small, jerky movements, as he tried to grind against Aziraphale’s thumb, which was showing no indication of deciding to move anytime soon. Just firm, steady pressure.
He was panting, a bead of sweat falling down his forehead, as he gripped Aziraphale’s clothes even tighter. Fuck, he was already close, but it was not enough. He just needed more.
Abruptly, Aziraphale’s hand was removed, and was back at caressing his thighs. Crowley whined at the loss of contact, cunt clenching around nothing.
“I think we should remove this,” Aziraphale said, his fingers skirting above the waistband of Crowley’s underwear, and Crowley had never been more eager. He nodded frantically, lifting a hand up to snap. But before he could miracle the offending piece of fabric away, Aziraphale had gently caught his wrist. “I’d rather do it the human way, if you don’t mind?”
“Whatever’s gonna get your fingers back on my cunt,” Crowley retorted, trying to sound snarky, but coming off more desperate instead.
“Must you be so crass?” Aziraphale tutted, but started sliding his underwear down anyway, lifting him up with his angelic strength, before placing him back down again. He removed the soaked underwear, pulling it down Crowley’s legs. And Crowley could see him staring at the fabric appreciatively. “Lace? Oh, you naughty thing. Were you planning to get lucky tonight?”
Crowley didn’t dignify that with a response, just whining in frustration as if to remind Aziraphale to just get on with it.
“Right. Of course. I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you hanging.” And with that, his hand was back in between Crowley’s legs again, fingers parting the lips and gliding against his slit. Crowley moaned when one thick finger slowly slid inside. He tried to move to fuck himself with it, but Aziraphale had grabbed his hips tightly to keep him still.
Without a warning, Aziraphale slipped another finger in, the slide of it made easy by how wet Crowley was. When he started to thrust his fingers, Crowley closed his eyes, and kept his arms wrapped around Aziraphale’s neck.
His cunt was pulsing with each torturous thrust, and with a little bit of attention to his clit, it wouldn’t take long for him to come. But it was as if Aziraphale was purposely trying to avoid doing just that, wanting to keep him close to the edge for just a little longer. And when the fingers inside him curled, Crowley cried out, his hips jerking on instinct. But Aziraphale’s firm grip was keeping him exactly where he was, not allowing him to move.
“Fuck- angel…” He gasped, tears starting to gather at the corners of his eyes. “Please…”
“Please what, my dear?” Aziraphale’s voice was surprisingly calm and composed, but Crowley could hear the hidden hint of arousal in his tone.
“Please let me come,” he said, biting down the embarrassment of begging. He was too turned on to care about being embarrassed.
“Oh, you should’ve just asked!” Just like that, Aziraphale’s thumb was on his clit, rubbing circles in a way that was making Crowley see stars behind the tightly shut lids of his eyes.
“Yes! Right there– Fuck.” Moans were spilling out of him while his cunt was rhythmically clenching around Aziraphale’s fingers. It felt even better with something to fill him up. Though he would much rather it being Aziraphale’s cock. “Ah- that’s good. Yes. Yesyesyesyes, I’m gonna–” With one last stroke of Aziraphale’s thumb on his clit, Crowley was coming, his muscles tensing up and his back arching, as his legs squeezed shut and trapped Aziraphale’s hand in between them. He writhed and thrashed in the angel’s hold, as he was finally able to fall off the precipice.
Aziraphale’s clever fingers worked him through his orgasm, easing him off of it. He waited for Crowley to fully come down, before he slowly removed his fingers. Crowley still whined at the emptiness, but slumped against Aziraphale’s side with a smile on his face, feeling spent and satisfied.
When Aziraphale put his soaked fingers into his mouth and began sucking them off, though, that just stoked the flames of arousal in Crowley that had started to die down. And when Aziraphale moaned around his fingers as if he were tasting the most delicious dish in the world, Crowley completely lost it again, a new wave of heat rushing to his cunt.
Frantically, he climbed onto Aziraphale’s lap, his long dress making it harder for him to find a comfortable position. But he made it work, and once his legs were on either side of Aziraphale, he pushed himself down, moaning softly as his already sensitive cunt rubbed against the hard line of Aziraphale’s cock over his trousers.
Aziraphale, too, choked out a moan, his hands coming to grip Crowley’s waist tightly, pressing him down more firmly. Crowley knew he must be ruining Aziraphale’s trousers right now, but he didn’t care. He doubted Aziraphale cared either. “I want your cock in me. Right now.” He whispered as he leaned in, nipping at Aziraphale’s earlobe.
A groan rose out of Aziraphale’s throat, and suddenly Crowley was up in the air, one hand of Aziraphale resting against his back and holding him up, while the other was lifting him up from behind his knees, carrying him bridal style up the stairs.
“I think the bed would be more comfortable for both of us.”
…
It was warm and comfortable in Aziraphale’s arms, and Crowley felt like he could just fall asleep. He was completely satisfied. He had never thought he would actually get to have sex with Aziraphale someday, even though he had imagined it quite often. And even if Aziraphale may not harbour any romantic feelings the way he did, at least he had this. He could be content with just this, instead of nothing.
“Have you ever done this before, then?” Aziraphale’s hand was lazily drawing circles on Crowley’s back, but the question made Crowley tense up a little, just before he was about to doze off.
“Not… really,” he admitted quietly. “No, I haven’t, actually.” He had attempted once or twice, but had realised he wasn’t into it before they could actually get into it. It would have been only to make himself stop thinking about Aziraphale, but he had quickly realised that wouldn't be possible.
“Really? I would’ve assumed– well…” Aziraphale trailed off, as if trying to put it in the least offensive way. “I would’ve assumed you had more experience, I suppose.”
“I don’t,” Crowley said simply. “This was my first time.”
Aziraphale hummed in response. “It was my first time too…” He said after a few moments, his hand continuing to trace patterns on Crowley’s back.
This time, it was Crowley’s turn to hum, he relaxed again, closing his eyes, before he was hit with another question not too long after.
“May I ask why you haven’t done it before?”
Crowley sighed as he cuddled closer to Aziraphale, burying his face in Aziraphale’s neck. “Wasn’t really interested,” he murmured. “Didn’t feel a deep enough connection with any humans.” The next words escaped his lips in a moment of sleepy haze. “They weren’t you.”
He could feel the muscles under Aziraphale’s skin tensing up, and he immediately regretted opening his mouth. He could’ve had something good for once, but he’d just had to go ahead and ruin it with his stupid feelings. Of course Aziraphale would never–
“I didn’t know you felt that way…” Aziraphale’s words cut off his self-deprecating train of thought. “That is… actually such a relief. Because I wanted this to mean something. I wasn’t interested in humans in that way either. I had my eyes on someone else…”
Crowley’s eyes widened immediately, and he propped himself on one elbow to look at Aziraphale, just to make sure he wasn’t reading the situation wrong. “Wait- does this mean..?”
“Yes. I was interested in you. From the very beginning. Though I have to admit that I’m not sure when exactly that interest became sexual. But when I started developing feelings for you–“
“Wait- wait, hold up.” His heart was beating in his throat. “ What are you saying..?’
“Oh, good Lord, I should’ve made myself more clear, shouldn’t I?” Aziraphale chuckled nervously. “Should’ve told you a long time ago, in fact. But– well, what I’m trying to say is… I love you, Crowley. I have for a very long time now. I just wasn’t brave enough to admit it. Even to myself.”
Crowley couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His heart both felt like it had stopped and was beating faster than ever. “You… love me.”
“You heard me correctly.”
Crowley’s face brightened up with a smile, and he had to blink away the tears that had appeared out of nowhere. He leaned down, and pressed his lips against Aziraphale’s, kissing him softly. The tears had come back when he broke the kiss, feeling giddier than ever as he looked at Aziraphale.
“So… should I take it that you love me too?”
“Yes, you bastard. Yes,” Crowley chuckled, and kissed him harder.