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It had been a little over two hours since they first started drinking. Crowley was still desperately trying to convince Aziraphale to help him stop the Apocalypse. They had gone over dolphins and whales and gorillas and something about a bird sharpening its beak on a mountain. Now Crowley was just listing things that Aziraphale loved that he would be losing if the war broke out and the angel was stuck in Heaven forever (attempting to, at least. His drug-addled brain was making it very hard to remember things).
“And… and… music!” He was saying, waving his glass around haphazardly. “You know there’s only boring ol’ monk music up in Heaven! No Mozart or Beethoven up there. Just depressing, solemn chanting.”
“It’s nice… to praise God,” Aziraphale mumbled in reply. “I can make it work…”
Somehow, he had managed to remain upright in his chair while Crowley was halfway off the couch and onto the floor. The angel was making a pouty face, but what he was pouting about, Crowley wasn’t quite sure.
“There’s no books up in Heaven either,” Crowley continued. “Well… there is one book you can read.”
“Don’t say it,” Aziraphale groaned.
“The Bible.”
Aziraphale groaned again and slumped further down in his seat. Crowley, with great effort, pushed himself up into a sitting position on the couch, trying to focus his gaze on Aziraphale. They probably should sober up, but they were both too drunk to think about that at the moment. The angel was still sulking. He was pretty sure he was getting to him.
“And… what about…” Crowley said, desperately trying to think of anything else that Aziraphale would care about. “What about… the company?”
The angel sat up and gave him a confused look.
“What about the company?” He asked.
“You must not have a lot of it if you choose to associate with a demon,” Crowley said. Aziraphale continued to stare at him like he didn’t understand. The demon waved his hand around as if that somehow explained things. “You know… I don’t see you… talking to other angels… must get pretty lonely up there…”
“I just…” Aziraphale started to say but then stopped, shaking his head. He had no argument. It was true he didn’t really socialize with anyone except Crowley. He barely remembered any other angel’s name. Of course, that may have been the fault of the alcohol. But Crowley… Crowley was… well…
“What about you?” He asked suddenly. Crowley, who had his glass half-way up to his mouth, froze before giving him a suspicious look.
“What about me?” He said. With some difficulty, Aziraphale managed to push himself out of his chair, cross the chasm of three steps across the room and collapse on the couch beside Crowley. It was a bit troublesome trying to right himself, and it took a lot of heavy leaning into his demonic companion, but eventually he was sitting upright so he could look at his friend properly. By that time, he had almost forgotten what they had been talking about.
“Well, Hell is full of… demons,” Aziraphale said in a whisper as if this somehow wasn’t common knowledge. “I don’t imagine they make very good company. Always being… mean to each other… always… double-crossing…”
“Why do you think I spend all my time on Earth?” Crowley replied. They were both leaning on each other in order to stay upright. Sobering themselves crossed neither of their minds. “It’s why you spend so much time on Earth. None of those angels… get you like I do. Why else would you hang around a demon like me?”
Aziraphale sat up and looked at him. “It must be torture going down there,” he said after a moment. “If you’re willing to entertain someone like me. You must be… so lonely… down there… without me…”
Crowley leaned forward and stared at him over his glasses. “Well, you’re not the worst person to hang out with,” he murmured. “And you’re not too bad… for an angel…”
Their faces had somehow gotten awfully close together. Their lips were inches apart. With slightly unsteady hands, Aziraphale reached up and took off Crowley’s sunglasses, setting them on a nearby table. Their foreheads were pressed together and their mouths were only a centimeter apart now. One of them should probably say something.
“We’ve… both had a lot to drink,” Crowley breathed.
“I don’t care,” Aziraphale responded before closing the gap between them and kissing him gently.
It was a shy kiss at first. Tender and hesitant and unsure. But as Crowley got over his initial shock and kissed him back, it grew deeper. Crowley rested his hands on Aziraphale’s shoulders as Aziraphale held onto Crowley’s slender waist. They pulled each other close as their kissing grew deeper.
Aziraphale’s breath caught in his throat at the wonderful feeling of Crowley’s lips against his. There was something alluring to kissing a demon. It was like putting one’s hands to a warm fire. He knew he shouldn’t be, but it just felt so right. And it was Crowley he was kissing, which somehow made it feel even more taboo.
All too soon it was ending, and Aziraphale and Crowley were pulling back and staring at each other in shock. Swallowing his nervousness, the angel decided he should probably apologize for kissing his demonic companion. He had no idea what had come over him in that moment. The effect of their lips pressed together had sobered him up in an instant.
“I…”
That was all Aziraphale managed to get out. Any other words were muffled as Crowley’s serpentine tongue filled his mouth and slithered down his throat. Aziraphale was quick to respond, and then they were kissing each other fiercely. Their arms wrapped tightly around each other as their tongues explored each other’s mouths. They were both gasping hard breaths between each kiss, and their hearts pounded against each other.
Aziraphale was practically devouring Crowley’s mouth as the demon pressed closer to him. They kissed over and over, trying to get the best angle, and their kissing started to become faster and heavier. The wonderful taste of Crowley’s mouth just made Aziraphale kiss him harder, letting out a low moan in the process. The demon matched his energy as their mouths fought for dominance. Crowley’s hands held Aziraphale tight to him while Aziraphale’s hands roamed around the demon’s body, carefully feeling every curve of his companion.
They sat there for some time, kissing each other furiously. Aziraphale would never remember how it happened; if he was leaning too heavily into Crowley, if Crowley was pulling him forward, or if they were just too drunk to sit up anymore. But somehow the demon ended up lying on his back on the couch with Aziraphale stretching himself over his long, lithe body. Their mouths never once broke contact as this happened.
Somehow, lying on top of Crowley – the demon, his best friend – just made Aziraphale kiss him that much harder. It was a wonderful feeling. A shiver of pleasure shot down his spine as Crowley’s hands held onto the back of the angel’s neck and tight over his back. One of Aziraphale’s hands reached up to comb his fingers through Crowley’s long red hair while the other hand ran up and down the demon’s side. He could feel his friend move and shudder under his touch.
Their kissing had evolved again as they lay there. It was still heated, still passionate and deep, but now it was slower. They were exploring each other more than hungrily consuming each other at that point. Neither of them had any idea where this passion had suddenly come from or how it started. But it appeared that neither of them cared.
Actually, that wasn’t wholly true. Even in his drunken state, Aziraphale knew exactly why he was kissing Crowley. He just really didn’t want to acknowledge it. Honestly, this shouldn’t be happening at all, but he was too drunk to care. The alcohol had reduced the angel’s inhibitions to practically non-existent. All he cared about now was the demon that lay underneath him and kissing him for all he was worth.
Neither of them would be able to remember how long they lay there. They kissed each other over and over, only pausing occasionally to breathe. They would have done that all night (was it night? Aziraphale couldn’t really remember) if Crowley hadn’t decided to tangle their legs together. The demon’s knee came up between the angel’s legs and put pressure on just the right place for the both of them. They broke off their kiss to gasp at the sensation, and then there was a long pause of the two of them trying to catch their breath.
Aziraphale had his eyes closed, breathing hard as he rested his head on Crowley’s shoulder for a moment. When he lifted his head again, soft blue eyes met sharp yellow, and in that moment, they both knew that they wanted the same thing.
After taking a moment to push a lock of red hair from the demon’s face, Aziraphale leaned down and kissed Crowley gently on the mouth. Crowley met it with a kiss of his own, and then Aziraphale’s hips started gently rolling into him. The demon gasped, but he kept his mouth pressed to the angel’s.
Much like their kissing, Aziraphale started off slow, trying to find the perfect rhythm for the both of them. Crowley moved with him, pressing his mouth harder to Aziraphale while his own hips moved against the angel’s, pushing and pulling. Soft breaths whispered out of them as they kissed and pushed; their hands explored each other’s bodies.
Very quickly, however, Aziraphale realized that this wasn’t enough, and began to push his hips harder and faster into Crowley. The demon gasped, and he gasped again when the angel let go of his mouth to, in a rather bold move for Aziraphale, start kissing Crowley’s lovely, long neck. He kissed along his jaw, holding the demon’s neck with one hand, alternating between hard and soft kisses.
Crowley reacted beautifully beneath him, gasping and writhing with every touch, every kiss and each thrust of the hips. Aziraphale could feel Crowley’s fingers dig into his back, and that feeling just made him want to thrust harder into his demonic companion. He heard Crowley cry out as he drove his hips harder into him, and he paused for a moment, propping himself up to stare with concern down at his friend.
“I’m sorry, my dear,” he panted. “I’m not hurting you, am I?” Crowley shook his head before leaning up and kissing Aziraphale deeply on the mouth.
“Keep going, angel, please,” he breathed against his lips. “You’re doing wonderfully.”
Aziraphale nodded (he must have been doing something right if Crowley was actually using the word “please!”) before kissing him back. He wrapped his arms around Crowley’s slender waist and began rolling his hips into him again, causing them both to gasp. The demon’s own arms had wrapped around the angel’s shoulders, and one of his hands had reached up to run his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair. It was a soothing gesture, and Aziraphale found that he quite liked the feeling of Crowley’s long fingers combing through his hair.
How long they went at it, neither of them cared. Aziraphale continued to drive his hips harder into Crowley, earning gasps from both of them. They alternated between kissing each other’s mouths and their necks. When Aziraphale had the pleasure of Crowley’s mouth pressed against his, the demon did truly amazing things with his tongue, twisting it around and exploring Aziraphale’s mouth that only one who was part snake could accomplish. When they broke off the kiss to explore each other’s necks, Aziraphale could feel the demon’s tongue and teeth against his own neck. Crowley found an especially sensitive part of the angel’s neck and pressed his mouth hard into it, causing Aziraphale to break off with a gasp.
“C-Crowley!” He groaned. He swore he could feel the demon grin against his neck. With a playful growl, the angel reached up to grasp a lock of Crowley’s hair, pulling his head back and leaning down to bite down on the demon’s throat. The demon gently cried out as he grasped Aziraphale tightly, one hand dragging down the angel’s back and the other on the back of his head, pressing him down harder against him. Aziraphale was practically devouring Crowley’s neck, kissing every part of it he could reach. All the while, the angel’s hips had not stopped in their wild movements. Crowley gasped loudly with each thrust, which was only stifled when Aziraphale captured his mouth with his own again, and any noise between them became passionate moans.
They made love for a long time. Aziraphale would be ashamed to admit that he used a tiny miracle to keep them both from climaxing too soon. If Crowley noticed, he didn’t say anything. He was writhing beautifully underneath Aziraphale, letting out a low, throaty moan with each hard thrust of the hips. His back arched sharply into the angel, which allowed Aziraphale to better wrap his arms around him.
Their breaths came out in gasps and sweat glistened off their skin. Crowley’s hair had become wild, falling over his face as he reached up to kiss Aziraphale desperately. Aziraphale’s hair… looked the same, actually. The only real difference to his appearance was that he was missing his bowtie (Crowley had pulled it off to better reach his neck), and the top few buttons of his shirt were undone (he had no idea when Crowley did that or how he managed to do it without Aziraphale noticing).
Neither of them was aware of anything around them; the time, the lights in the room, or even their long-abandoned glasses of wine. They were just aware of each other, and the pleasure their bodies were bringing one another. It was exciting, it was passionate, it was breathtaking. It was incredibly wrong in more ways than one, but damn if it wasn’t so good. The sensation of having Crowley all around him brought a strange ecstasy to Aziraphale that he couldn’t quite describe.
Eventually, it became too much for them. Crowley was crying out Aziraphale’s name in his ear, and then it was all over for the angel. They tightened around each other, and Aziraphale felt his breath leave him all together. He buried his face in Crowley’s neck as he rode out his orgasm, pleasure flooding his mind and body. Finally, he collapsed on top of his demonic companion, who relaxed his body a moment later.
For a moment, all they could do was lie there, trying to catch their breath. Aziraphale felt Crowley loosely wrap his arms around his shoulders, but made no other movement. He didn’t really feel like moving either, as his head was swimming with a mixture of ecstasy, pleasure and alcohol. He was pretty sure the shame would come later.
“Holy crap, angel,” Crowley murmured in a slurred voice. “I didn’t think you had it in you.” Aziraphale could do no more than make some sort of noise that might have been agreement.
As the two of them started coming down from their high, the alcohol was taking over once again. Aziraphale could feel his eyes grow heavy and exhaustion sinking in. With each regained breath, he became more and more sluggish. His limbs refused to move. He was forced to rest his head on Crowley’s chest. They could have just sobered themselves, but at that point it was too much effort. Aziraphale accepted the hangover he would get instead.
He was vaguely aware that Crowley was saying something else to him, but his voice seemed muffled and far away. Before he could work out what the demon was saying, the angel was fast asleep.
Aziraphale was flooded with different sensations when he first woke up. He had a pounding headache, he could hear a heartbeat that wasn’t his own in his ear, he could feel long, slender fingers gently running through his hair, and he was aware that he was not in his bed. A person. He was lying on a person.
With a soft groan, he slowly opened his eyes and lifted his head half an inch. It just made his head hurt more, so he lowered his head back down. The body underneath him shifted slightly.
“Finally awake, are we?” It was Crowley. Well, of course it was, who else would it be? It’d be more concerning if it wasn’t the demon. But Aziraphale had been really hoping that it wasn’t Crowley and that last night had just been a fever dream brought by the intoxication. Well, it could still have been a dream. One could only hope. Because there would be an incredible shame in Aziraphale’s life if it hadn’t been.
“Crowley,” he greeted in a soft voice, refusing to move or open his eyes again. “What time is it? How long have we been out?”
“I have no idea,” Crowley replied. His voice was too loud. He didn’t sound hungover at all. “Well, I’ve been up for an hour, at least.” Aziraphale’s eyes opened again and he turned his head to look up at his demonic companion in surprise.
“Really?” He asked.
“Yeah,” the demon said. “My leg itched and I couldn’t reach it.”
“Oh.”
They didn’t actually do it… right? And besides, being fully clothed while, as the kids would say, “humping each other’s brains out” didn’t really count as sex… right? He didn’t… lose his virginity to his best friend… while drunk… right?!
“Um… Crowley, my dear?” He asked hesitantly.
“Mmm?”
“Did we… um… y-you know…?” He couldn’t finish that question. It was too painful. Unfortunately for him, Crowley was quick to fill in the blanks.
“Fuck each other last night?” Aziraphale flinched at the casual tone in Crowley’s voice. “Yes, we did.” The angel let out a groan in response. He couldn’t even lift his head to look at Crowley. Despite what they had done, Crowley sounded strangely calm. How could he calmly stroke the angel’s hair like nothing happened?
“Oh… I’m… so sorry…” Aziraphale murmured, mostly to himself. The hand in his hair suddenly froze in its movements and he could feel Crowley’s body stiffen underneath him. Confused, Aziraphale slowly lifted his head to look at his demonic companion, but Crowley refused to look him in the eye. He was surprised Crowley hadn’t kicked him off yet.
Aziraphale braced himself. He braced himself against the inevitable question that his friend was bound to ask him. The dreaded “why?” Why did they have sex last night? The alcohol could be blamed to some extent, but not entirely. The alcohol just removed Aziraphale’s fear of consequences. It allowed him to face a truth that he had been trying to deny for so long.
Because he was in love with Crowley. He had been in love with his demonic companion for centuries. Ever since Aziraphale saw Crowley’s gentle side in helping Job, risking so much to keep his children from being murdered, he knew the demon was special. And then when Crowley told Aziraphale that he wasn’t going to tell anyone about the angel’s role in foiling God’s plan, gently guiding him in where to go from there, Aziraphale couldn’t help but fall deeply in love with him.
Of course, it wasn’t until Crowley saved his books and the angel from Nazi spies was when Aziraphale first realized that he had fallen for Crowley. And he had fallen hard for him. It was hard when they got together and Aziraphale had to pretend that he wasn’t in love with his best friend. Maybe if Crowley was an angel or maybe even a human it would be different. But Crowley was a demon. A very passionate, caring, warm, independent, good-looking, suave, optimistic demon, but still a demon. Even in the slim chance that Crowley could return his affections, Heaven and Hell would never allow them to be together. Aziraphale had tried in vain to suppress his feelings for years.
He waited in fear for Crowley to ask him why he had kissed him. Waited to finally reveal all and for his existence to be over. Waited for the shock and outrage… but it never came. Silence was stretching out longer and longer between them. Finally, with great difficulty, Aziraphale hoisted himself onto his elbows to look down in confusion at Crowley. He could see immediately from his clear eyes that the demon must have miracled his hangover away. For some reason, Aziraphale didn’t think of doing that. Must have been the headache messing with his thoughts and reasoning.
Crowley was giving him a curious look. He looked almost… confused? Nervous? It was a look Aziraphale couldn’t quite place. Neither of them had said anything for much too long. And the angel was fighting the urge to lean down and kiss the demon again. Looking down at him from this angle was stirring memories of the night before. With a gasp, Aziraphale quickly sat up and away from Crowley, allowing the demon to finally sit up himself. They continued to not speak for a long while.
“Do you…” Crowley started to say before starting over. “Rather, did you… hear what I said last night? Right before you passed out?” Aziraphale turned to look at him in shock. He had completely forgotten what had happened right after they finished. It had gotten lost in a haze of shame and self-loathing.
“N-No,” he replied after a moment. “Why? What did you say?”
“Nothing important,” Crowley said quickly, looking away with a pained expression on his face. There was another stretch of silence between them. Finally, Crowley started to speak, saying the words that Aziraphale was dreading. “I think we should talk about last night.”
“Didn’t you say you had a plan?” Aziraphale asked loudly, talking over him. Crowley stared at him in shock.
“What?”
“A plan,” Aziraphale said desperately. “About averting the apocalypse. You were talking about it last night. While we were drinking.” Crowley continued to stare at him.
“I did,” he said slowly. “I thought we could work to influence the antichrist to be a normal kid. But, angel… we have to talk about-!”
“Influence him?” Aziraphale repeated. “How would we do that? You know I’m not supposed to interfere with the Divine Plan. What exactly are you proposing?” The end of the world was starting to look like a nice idea so he wouldn’t have to live with his shame anymore. Crowley was rolling his eyes.
“I would influence him towards bad and you would work against me by influencing him towards good,” he said with a sigh. “Angel, you can’t keep—”
“I suppose that could work,” Aziraphale said, his voice shaking.
“Angel…”
“I can’t interfere with the Divine Plan, but I can certainly interfere with you.”
“Angel!”
“There’s no way upper management could-!”
“Aziraphale!” Crowley snapped, grabbing the angel by the lapels and forcing him to look at him. The use of his name effectively shut the angel up and he looked at Crowley in shock. “We need to talk about what happened last night!”
“No, we don’t,” Aziraphale insisted nervously. “We could just pretend it didn’t happen. We were both extremely intoxicated. We can’t be really held accountable for our actions, can we? It happened, and there’s no need to talk about it.”
Crowley stared at him for a long moment. It looked like there was hurt in his eyes. But that couldn’t be possible… could it? Suddenly Aziraphale felt like he was making a bigger mistake than he had last night.
“We don’t… have to talk about it, Crowley,” his mouth insisted. After another moment of silence, in which Aziraphale was forced to watch a storm of emotions pass through Crowley’s eyes, the demon finally released him and reached over to the coffee table, putting his sunglasses back on. Aziraphale felt like his heart had been ripped out by that one action.
“Fine,” Crowley said flatly. “We won’t talk about it.” Aziraphale instantly regretted his choice. He wished he could take back what he said and just put it all out on the table. But even now, he was too much of a coward to tell Crowley the truth. So he forced himself to keep his mouth shut.
“So, what do you think about my proposal?” Crowley asked Aziraphale, snapping him out of his self-loathing. “Influencing the antichrist. If we do it right, he won’t be evil or good. Just normal.”
Aziraphale inwardly sighed at his cowardice before answering Crowley. They talked for a good while about this plan of Crowley’s. The tension between them began to relax once more, though it didn’t quite fully go away. Part of Aziraphale’s brain was trying to get the angel to confess his feelings while they talked, and he forced himself to focus on Crowley and his plan to stop the apocalypse. His mind was battling between the guilt of not telling the demon the truth of why they had made love, and the determination to never reveal his feelings to him.
He could still remember the look in Crowley’s eyes when their gazes locked and they knew without speaking what the other wanted. He could still remember the joy of having the demon’s lips pressed to his, his serpentine tongue slithering down his throat. He recalled the wonderful feeling of Crowley writhing underneath him, the thrill of him calling out his name as they reached their climax together. He swore he could still feel where Crowley had desperately grasped him. But memories were all they could ever be. It was a one-night stand, and in order to preserve their relationship, it could never be spoken of again. That was how things had to be. Aziraphale was sure of that. Despite how much his heart protested.
Finally, after a long discussion, working out the details of the plan, including when they were to start (along with a quip about godfathers and how being damned wasn’t too bad once you got used to it), Crowley decided that he should really get back to his flat. Aziraphale was both relieved and disappointed to see him go. They both stood up, as Aziraphale always liked to walk Crowley to the door at the end of his visits.
When they reached the entrance, Crowley turned to the angel and held out his hand.
“So, I’ll call you soon when I’ve gotten more information about the family and how we can infiltrate the home,” he said.
“Yes, thank you,” Aziraphale replied, taking the demon’s hand to shake it.
A devilish grin suddenly appeared on Crowley’s face the moment their hands gripped each other. Before Aziraphale had any time to react, Crowley was pulling him forward and kissing him deeply, using his free hand to grip the back of the angel’s head to keep him from pulling away. Aziraphale made a note of surprise into Crowley’s mouth, but that was all he could do as the demon’s tongue wrapped around his own. The angel’s hands were holding onto Crowley’s waist without any input from their owner.
When Crowley finally released him and started pulling away, Aziraphale’s mouth desperately chased his, leaning into the demon without thought. But Crowley held the angel’s face in his hands, keeping him still. A knowing grin was on his face as he leaned forward to whisper in Aziraphale’s ear.
“Next time, I get to be on top,” he whispered sensually, sending a shiver of desire down Aziraphale’s spine. Then he swiftly kissed the angel again before letting him go, and Aziraphale was forced to stare wide-eyed with shock, his mouth hanging open as his demon lover turned and sauntered vaguely out the door.