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Aziraphale tugged at her skirt nervously as she stood outside the coffee shop door. The soft, pale blue fabric fluttered just above her knees, and although it was perfectly modest, it was definitely the most revealing thing she had worn in awhile. Paired with her cream blouse, featuring an almost daring scooped neckline, her outfit felt practically scandalous.
Aziraphale breathed and reminded herself that just because she was usually covered neck to ankles didn’t mean anyone would look at her strangely. Having grown up in a cult-like ultra conservative household, she still found herself struggling with shame around her body even as she approached thirty.
Still, today she had decided to be brave. Not only to push at her own personal boundaries, but because it was Saturday.
Aziraphale’s schedule was as regular as the trains. On weekdays, she would rise at 6am to make tea and do some reading, before fixing herself a breakfast of eggs and toast to sustain her through her day of restoration work. On Saturdays, however, as a treat for surviving another week, she splurged on a latte and a pastry of her choice from the local cafe. The pastries were lovely, but the real indulgence was Crowley.
The barista Crowley was snarky, grumpy, and seemed to deeply resent having to show up to work. He was also kind, thoughtful, funny, and gave her the sweetest smile when Aziraphale selected her pastry.
As the weeks passed, Aziraphale couldn’t help but notice how beautiful the man was. While she typically didn’t experience a huge amount of physical attraction, caring far more about a person’s personality, she found herself drawn to the way his untidy loose ponytail shined bright red in the light, the slender lines of his body, and his mischievous amber eyes.
She’d noticed his eyes right away, the unique color and the way his pupils bled into his irises, finding them mesmerizing. She’d witnessed several customers do a double-take when they met Crowley’s eyes and each time Crowley stared them down, as if daring them to comment.
Once, a few months prior, a customer had actually let out a shriek before running out of the shop. Crowley had rolled his eyes, joking about her over the top reaction, but Aziraphale could see he’d been hurt. In a brave moment, she’d reached across the counter to pat his hand, giving him what she’d hoped was a supportive smile and meeting his amber eyes with her blue ones. He’d looked at her curiously before smiling softly and requesting her order.
Aziraphale took one more calming breath and walked inside, smiling nervously at the counter. Crowley looked up at the chime of the bell and smiled widely.
“Angel!” He greeted her, and Aziraphale must have imagined the way his cheeks seemed to tint pink, the way his eyes darted down to her outfit quickly. He probably didn’t think of her enough to notice the difference in outfit, she reasoned.
Crowley had been calling her ‘angel’ since the first time he’d taken her order almost a year prior. When you show up to a coffee shop with the name Aziraphale, you often get strange looks from those responsible for spelling your name on a cup.
Aziraphale had gotten used to quickly explaining that it was the name of an obscure angel, and that she didn’t care how they spelt it. Crowley had frowned, scribbling something on the cup before making the beverage. She hadn’t thought much of it until he called out ‘Angel!’ when her drink was ready. Blushing, she took the cup, and saw that he’d written ‘angel’ on it as well.
The next time she ordered, she was surprised to find Crowley remembered her. She was even more surprised that, after going to pick up her order upon hearing him call ‘angel,’ her actual name was written and spelled correctly on the cup.
Crowley never called her anything but angel, and Aziraphale felt her face heat every time. She knew he was just being friendly, but she couldn’t help but notice that he seemed friendlier with her than even the other regulars. They began to chat as he prepared her drink, discussing their weeks and any amusing tidbits they could share in the precious few minutes. He could be so sullen, which she somehow also found charming, but with her he was always lighthearted and sweet.
She knew Crowley didn’t think of her as anything but a friend, or perhaps even just as a friendly acquaintance. While appearances weren’t her priority, she could recognize that Crowley was very conventionally attractive and slim, while Aziraphale was soft and chubby, her white-blond curls always a poofy mess, and her clothing typically terribly old-fashioned.
“Good morning, Crowley,” she greeted him, blushing as usual at the nickname. “How has your day been thus far?”
“Better now that you’re here,” he winked, which only intensified the heat in her face. “Agnes came in again today, told me the tea leaves spelled out ‘needing to be brave in the face of a difficult event,’ whatever that means. Creepy old weirdo.”
Aziraphale laughed, always happy to hear about Agnes, whom Crowley secretly adored. “I’m sure you’ll do admirably as you face this mysterious challenge. Perhaps I should seek her out for a reading myself, to see if she has any insight on how to locate a former customer who owes me two months worth of rent in restoration costs.”
Crowley winced. “Geez, I’m sorry angel. Not fair people keep taking advantage.”
Aziraphale nodded sadly. “I suppose I’m used to it. People look at me and know they can get away with quite a bit.” She’d always been too soft.
“Not fair, that,” Crowley growled. “Next time you should have me standing behind you while you make the deal, can scare the shit out of them with my freaky eyes. I’ll say I’m a demon who’ll hunt them down if they don’t pay.”
Aziraphale glared at him. “Don’t be rude to my friend’s lovely eyes.”
Crowley’s face softened, and for a second he looked almost vulnerable. “Wow, never heard that before.”
“What, that your eyes are lovely?” Crowley nodded. “Well that simply won’t do.” Aziraphale flushed but forced herself to continue, knowing now that her friend needed the validation. “I find them quite pretty,” she said softly, heart beating frantically.
Crowley blushed very fetchingly as he ducked his head, muttering, “Thanks, angel.” He then lifted his head and met Aziraphale’s eyes. “You look… I… I like your outfit. Pretty. It’s pretty.”
“Oh thank you,” Aziraphale squeaked, confident her face was as red as Crowley’s hair. Feeling overwhelmed, she quickly selected a pastry and left a generous tip, before trying to scurry away.
As she pulled away from the counter, she heard a tearing sound, and felt a fluttering sensation of fabric across her legs. Turning to find the source of the sound, she saw a piece of fabric that looked an awful lot like her skirt hanging from a loose screw at the counter.
Glancing down, Aziraphale let out a breathless scream as she was met not with the sight of her skirt but instead with her tiny white knickers, her favorite pair with the lace trimming. Her skirt had been ripped off; she was standing in the middle of a busy cafe in just her little knickers.
Aziraphale spun around and saw all eyes were on her. On her exposed plump thighs, her barely covered intimate areas. She realized that before turning around they had all been staring at her almost completely naked arse. While Aziraphale dressed modestly, she loved experimenting with frilly lingerie, enjoying pushing at her boundaries in a way that felt safe under all her layers.
But now here she stood, bare and exposed before a room full of strangers. She felt tears filling her eyes as she pressed herself backwards, whining as she tugged at her blouse in a vain attempt to cover herself, stretching the fabric as far as it would go and feeling dismayed as she discovered it could barely reach the top of her knickers. She realized with horror that in doing so she was pressing her arse against the counter, that Crowley could see her too. She was on display for him, her generous behind practically served up on the counter.
Spinning around, she caught his eyes and took in his dazed expression. Realizing she was now baring herself again to a dozen customers she began to sob, trying desperately to cover herself with one hand over her front and the other on her behind. It was a futile effort; her arse was far too large to conceal with a hand.
Everyone was looking, staring, seeing her in just her tiny knickers. With growing horror, Aziraphale felt herself getting wet. The fabric was so pale, she knew if she glanced down she’d see a growing dark spot, and she wept as this only aroused her more. She crossed both hands over her crotch, helpless as she realized she was just exposing herself further to Crowley, completely unable to cover her nakedness.
“Get the fuck out, all of you!” Crowley shouted from behind her. She turned to see his face contorted in anger as he jumped over the counter, waving his arms threateningly at the sea of staring eyes, who suddenly looked away and began hurriedly collecting their belongings.
Crowley turned around to face Aziraphale, face shifting from vengeful to distressed in just a moment. Aziraphale cowered, cries turning into panicked whines.
Crowley hurriedly undid his apron and held it out to Aziraphale, eyes focused pointedly on a spot just past her shoulder. “Come with me, I’ve got you,” he said softly.
Aziraphale tried to cover herself with the apron but cried harder as she realized her arse was still entirely exposed, her full cheeks parted by a thin strip of white fabric and framed by lace. She yelped when Crowley took her by the arm and dragged her behind him, past the counters and through a door into a cramped back room.
The moment they were through Crowley started quickly unbuttoning his shirt, slowly revealing a tight vest underneath. Aziraphale simply stood and stared, her brain too overwhelmed from the past few minutes to even try to understand. She continued to cry silently, feeling as though she had left her body. It was too horrific to be true.
Crowley yanked his shirt off, leaving him far less dressed than Aziraphale had ever seen him, before walking up to Aziraphale and wrapping it around her waist. Aziraphale flinched, but Crowley continued to work, using the arms of the shirt to form a knot at her waist, covering her behind.
He stepped back and pulled out a chair for her. Numbly, she stumbled towards the chair, before collapsing into it and sobbing violently.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and gasped, breathing growing faster and more strained. “Angel, angel, breathe with me.” Through the haze, Aziraphale heard Crowley taking exaggerated breaths, and despite everything she found herself wanting to make him happy.
She forced herself to match his breathing, the room slowly coming back into focus with each full breath.
“That’s it, angel, I’ve got you.” Crowley was rubbing his hand soothingly over Aziraphale’s back. She couldn’t bear to meet his eyes, not after he’d seen her like that, exposed and unable to cover herself despite her desperate attempts. “You’re not alone, I’m here.”
“That makes it so much worse,” Aziraphale choked out. The hand on her back pulled away, and she felt cold in its absence.
“Oh shit, do you want me to go? I’m sorry, I didn’t think-”
“No,” Aziraphale said quickly, cutting off the anxious ramblings of the sweet man. “No, I’m sorry, I’m so grateful you helped me. I just… I can’t believe… I’ve never…” She felt her face burning as she hid it in her hands, feeling utterly humiliated.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you,” Crowley said softly, resuming the slow circles on her back with his warm hand. “I… I should have moved quicker, I just didn’t fully process…”
“It’s not your fault, dear,” she assured, not wanting the kind man to feel at fault for her horrific blunder. “I shouldn’t have… this never would have happened if I didn’t dress like this.”
“Aziraphale, it’s not your fault,” Crowley said with a firmness that startled her. “You should be able to dress however you want, this was just an accident.”
“I was practically naked in front of so many people. In front of you !” Aziraphale winced at the admission, burying her head in her arms.
“Did I… did I do something wrong?” Crowley asked softly. “I promise I looked away once I realized what had happened, I would never take advantage like that.”
“But you still saw me, saw how I dress under my clothes. And then I got aroused of all things, and I’m sure they could see, everyone could see me,” Aziraphale moaned, unable to stop the flow of words from her mouth. She heard a sudden intake of breath from Crowley and gasped in horror, realizing she’d just fully admitted to her inappropriate arousal.
Crowley hesitated before continuing to brush his hand across her back. “Angel, I would never judge anyone by their choice in underthings. Honestly, I’ve got a few pairs of knickers similar to yours.” She looked up at that, startled, and saw the redhead was blushing and looking away.
“Really?” She whispered, feeling herself grow warmer between her legs at the thought.
Crowley paused for a moment before reaching a thumb below his waistband and tugging a strip of black lace into view. “I like how they make me feel,” he said softly. “Never told anyone.”
“Thank you,” Aziraphale whispered. “It does make me feel better to know you understand. To know you don’t judge me.”
“I’d never judge you, angel, I think you’re amazing,” Crowley smiled at her, his beautiful eyes looking hopeful.
Aziraphale did her best to smile, but felt it crumple as she remembered what had happened. “Oh Crowley, it was so humiliating. I couldn’t… I couldn’t stop it. And you were there and I know you wouldn’t judge me but I’m so ashamed you saw me.”
“Angel, I’m your friend. At least, I’d like to be,” Crowley added, looking anxious. “I’m sorry if I did anything to make you feel worse. I know I come on strong, I just really like you. I didn’t realize the flirting was making you uncomfortable, I can stop.”
Aziraphale’s brain froze on the word ‘flirting.’ “You… you like me?”
Crowley laughed self-consciously. “Oh, wow, uh, I thought I was being pretty obvious. I’m kinda crazy about you.”
“But,” Aziraphale protested, feeling deeply confused, “Look at me. I mean,” she blushed, “You’ve seen me. You can’t…” Crowley shook his head and dropped gracefully to his knees before her, taking her hands in his.
“Angel, I think you’re beautiful in your turtle necks and floor length skirts, and I think you’re beautiful in just your knickers.” They both flushed at his admission. “I’m so sorry I saw you when you didn’t want me to, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You like me?” Aziraphale asked again, making sure she was hearing correctly.
“Er, yeah.”
“Oh.” Aziraphale felt a genuine smile growing on her face. “I like you too.”
Crowley’s eyes widened. “You… you do? Like, romantically?” The poor man seemed so unsure.
“Romantically,” she confirmed. “I have for quite a while. You’re so wonderfully kind and gentle, and so charmingly grumpy and amusing.” Crowley laughed, squeezing her hands.
“So, you’re embarrassed because you like me?” Aziraphale nodded. “Even with my…” he gestured at his eyes.
“I told you earlier, I find them pretty,” Aziraphale insisted. “I don’t tend to think much of the way people look, but I still find myself thinking from time to time that you’re quite lovely, and I’ve always liked your eyes.”
Crowley smiled widely, his unique eyes welling up with tears. “Don’t know how I got this lucky, having an angel in my life who’s never flinched at my pupils.”
“I’m not much of an angel,” Aziraphale said sadly. “What kind of angel gets stripped in front of strangers? God, Crowley, I was aroused .” She hung her head in shame, feeling like she’d utterly failed.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay sweetheart. Arousal is weird, happens at inconvenient times, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I’ve never… I’ve never done anything like that,” Aziraphale admitted, feeling embarrassed by her inexperience. “This was the first time anyone’s seen me without a skirt on. And now so many people have. I feel ridiculous.”
Crowley squeezed her hand, a fierce look in his eyes. “You’re not ridiculous. You’re gorgeous, angel. I’ve always thought so. This doesn’t mean anything about who you are. You’re a good, generous person who deserves the world.”
Crowley pulled her into a hug, his bare arms wrapping around her. He was so warm, so sturdy, Aziraphale couldn’t help but melt in his arms. She felt acutely aware that the apron and shirt did little to cover her thighs, which were exposed all the way up to her waist.
“I’m so sorry your first time being seen like this wasn’t your choice,” Crowley said seriously. “You deserve better.”
Aziraphale thought back to Crowley showing her his own secret, how terrified he’d look as he thought he was facing rejection, and decided to be brave. Gently, she took his hands and placed them on her thighs, sliding them up to her bare hip. “You could… you could make it better.” She blushed brilliantly. “If… if you wanted.”
Crowley stifled a moan before shaking his head. “I want to, I do, but… are you sure? I don’t want to go too fast. I’m happy to wait.”
Aziraphale smiled at his consideration, but needed him to understand what this meant to her. “I don’t fully know what I want. But growing up I was taught my body was something to be ashamed of, and I don’t want to feel that way anymore.”
Crowley nodded, stroking a thumb over her thigh in a way that made Aziraphale shiver. “How about we start with some touches? I don’t want your first time to be in a glorified closet.” Aziraphale laughed, thinking she wouldn’t mind too much if it was with Crowley, but nodded.
“Angel, can I kiss you?” Crowley asked, golden eyes wide. Aziraphale answered by pulling Crowley up to meet her lips.
Her first kiss was a gentle thing, a tentative press of lips. Pulling back, she felt herself smiling widely, encouraged by the happy, dazed expression on Crowley’s face.
They continued to slide their lips together softly and unhurriedly, as Aziraphale ran her fingers over Crowley’s arms and back in a way that made him shiver.
Tentatively, Crowley trailed fingers up Aziraphale’s thighs and over her hips, causing the warmth between her legs to deepen.
“Crowley,” she moaned, as he kissed down her neck, nibbling on her exposed collarbone.
“What do you need, angel? Anything you want.” Aziraphale responded by tugging at his vest. Crowley got the message and yanked it off, revealing a lithe body with a trail of red hair running from his chest to the waistline of his jeans. Aziraphale eagerly ran her fingers through it as he groaned.
“Angel, can I see you? It’s okay if not, I just…” Aziraphale understood him even as he trailed off. He wanted to see her for real, to chase away the memory of violation, and Aziraphale felt herself feeling much the same way.
Aziraphale’s fingers trembled as she untied the knot of Crowley’s shirt, before reaching behind herself to untie the apron. She hesitated for a moment before beginning to unbutton her blouse as well.
“Angel,” Crowley’s voice came out strangled. “You don’t have to-”
“I want to,” she said firmly, suddenly very sure this was true. “I want you to see me. Not all those strangers. Just you.” She swallowed, nerves still simmering under the surface. “I hope… I hope I’m okay.”
“You’re perfect,” Crowley said fiercely, kissing her as he began to help with her buttons.
When her blouse opened, Aziraphale shivered as her breasts were exposed, still partially hidden beneath a lacy white bra. She could tell her nipples were poking through, and she blushed at the thought. Crowley continued to kiss her, and when he pulled away he met her eyes instead of staring lower.
“You have the most gorgeous blue eyes,” he whispered, seeming mesmerized. “May I?”
Aziraphale shrugged off her blouse in response, pulling the apron over her head and letting Crowley gently pull her to standing. She stood before him in just her lacy white lingerie, her breasts pushing against the thin fabric of the bra, and her knickers feeling soaked through. She couldn’t help but bring her arms to cover her bare tummy, embarrassed by the roundness of it.
Crowley’s eyes slid over her slowly, taking in every bare inch. “Angel, did you… did you wear this for me?” Aziraphale nodded, blushing furiously. “You’re so beautiful. A true angel in white.” Crowley spoke with such reverence that Aziraphale felt her arms relaxing, falling away from the roll of her stomach.
Crowley cradled her face in his hands as he kissed her tenderly, pressing his body against hers, the feeling of his slender chest against her ample breasts making her gasp. Suddenly, she knew what she wanted.
“Crowley… could I see you too?” She glanced meaningfully down at his jeans, where a bulge was visible. Crowley blushed, pulling back and looking so terribly vulnerable. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to,” Aziraphale rushed to add, but Crowley shook his head.
“No, I want to. Sorry, just nervous. I always wear boxers when…” Aziraphale felt a pang in her heart as she realized this was something Crowley did often. She wasn’t special, she was just here. She crossed her arms over herself defensively, and Crowley’s eyes widened.
“Shit, angel, it’s not like that. I’m absolutely gone on you. I’ve had hookups, but I don’t want this to be that. I want… I want all of you.”
Aziraphale dropped her arms, looking up bashfully. “I’m sorry, you have every right to your history. I suppose I’m nervous too.” Crowley took her hand, eyes scanning her face anxiously before she continued. “But I’m so very happy as well.”
Crowley relaxed, tugging her in for a quick kiss before fumbling with his belt. He awkwardly wiggled his way out of his wonderfully tight trousers before righting himself, standing before Aziraphale in just a black thong very similar to her own.
“Oh Crowley, you look lovely,” she murmured reverently.
“I… I wore this for you too,” he admitted, and Aziraphale had to bite back a whimper. “Not because I thought you’d see, I just, I dunno, wanted to feel sexy?” He laughed softly, looking down at his very obvious erection straining against the thin fabric.
“I felt much the same,” Aziraphale said as she took the shy man into her arms. “I had never admitted it to myself, but I wanted to feel pretty for you. I know how I usually dress isn’t very attractive-”
“That’s not true,” Crowley argued, wrapping his arms around her waist, fingers dancing over her lower back and arse. “I like your style, it’s unique like you.”
Aziraphale pulled Crowley into another kiss, more heated this time as their hands grabbed at each other, desperately seeking contact. Aziraphale moaned when he squeezed her arse, and Crowley hissed in pleasure as she pushed her hips forward, rubbing her damp knickers against the tent in his own.
“Fuck, Aziraphale, I’m so close,” Crowley gasped out, continuing to massage her arse as one hand moved to fondle a breast. “I don’t wanna… I wanna be good to you, give you more.”
“I want this, Crowley, I’m close too,” Aziraphale panted in a rush, continuing to chase her pleasure as she rubbed off on his cock through their knickers.
“You’re so fucking perfect, I thought I was going to die when I saw your arse practically served up for me before I realized what I was seeing, fuck, and knowing you were wet…” Aziraphale cried out, feeling her orgasm rushing through her as she rutted against the redhead. With a moan, he shuddered, following her over.
As they came down together, Crowley dropped his head to rest their foreheads against each other, tenderly carding his long fingers through her hair.
“Thank you,” Aziraphale whispered shyly, meeting Crowley’s wide, golden eyes.
“That was amazing, angel. I’ve never… you’re really special to me. I think about you all week and when you leave my heart breaks every time.” Aziraphale kissed him gently, trying to convey all she felt for him with her lips. When they parted, Crowley’s face shifted. He looked so unsure, so anxious.
“Can we do this again? I mean, not just this, the whole… wanna do everything with you. Be… be your boyfriend,” Crowley stammered.
“I would love to be your girlfriend,” Aziraphale replied bashfully. “I… I’m not normally like this, though. I fear I’ll bore you.”
Crowley smiled softly, kissing her gently on the forehead. “Angel, I know. I didn’t fall for you just because you’re gorgeous. I like
you.
Your little jokes, how you smile, the way you look at me.” Crowley’s eyes grew damp. “No one’s ever looked at me like you do. You make me feel worthy.”
Aziraphale pulled Crowley into a tight hug, thrilled by the way their bodies just seemed to fit. “I feel much the same, darling.”
As they fully returned to their senses after the physical and emotional highs, breathing into each other’s arms, Aziraphale felt a pang in her heart.
“I can’t come here anymore,” she said softly. “Not after…” She felt tears filling her eyes again at the memory, thinking of her desperate attempts to cover herself and how horribly exposed her body had been to a room full of staring eyes.
“Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay, you don’t have to. I’ll take you out, buy you all the fancy pastries you’d like. And I’ll kill anyone who looks at you weird,” Crowley’s voice quickly grew venomous with rage, but when Aziraphale placed a hand on his arm he immediately looked sheepish. The darling boy.
“This was rather traumatic for me, but I don’t regret it,” Aziraphale said thoughtfully. “I could never regret what led to this. And you came to my rescue, just when I needed you.”
“I’ll always protect my angel,” Crowley said softly, brushing her tangled curls behind her ear.
They dressed again in silence, with Crowley darting to a nearby clothing store for a long beige skirt. Once clothed, Crowley took Aziraphale’s hand and led her from the shop and on to the street.
“Where to, angel?” He asked, squeezing her hand.
Aziraphale squeezed back. “Anywhere you want to go.”