Crowley

[theangelfell]

Aziraphale didn't quite know what to do with himself.

Ever since the night before, when he'd blinked away from Crowley - Crowley who had kissed him. He was confused, and he was having feelings, and he didn't know how to deal with any of them.

So of course he decided to read one of his favorite books.

He put a "CLOSED" sign on the bookshop door, and sat down with a misprinted bible and a cup of tea.

Comments

[sauntereddownward]

Crowley watched him a long moment, that cheeky smile burning into what he would have imagined would have been his heart if he had one.

"Don't be so cheeky," he scolded, annoyed that Aziraphale had gotten the better of him. As he often did. Truly, sometimes the angel did sin better than the demon himself.

[theangelfell]

“I thought you liked me cheeky,” said Aziraphale. “Or rather... less angelic.”

[sauntereddownward]

"I like the bit of a bastard in you, I won't lie," Crowley said. Of course he'd lie...just not about this. Or, actually, many other things. The truth was, after all, so very damning for mankind.

[theangelfell]

“So why can’t I like the goodness in you?” Aziraphale asked quietly.

[sauntereddownward]

"Ohh, I doubt I'm as good as you think I am, angel," he replied. "You just bring out the best in me."

[theangelfell]

Still wrapped up in Crowley’s wing, Aziraphale hesitated, and then leaned in and kissed his cheek.

[sauntereddownward]

Crowley looked more than a bit shocked.

"What was that for?" he asked.

[theangelfell]

Aziraphale blushed. “I like bringing out the best in you.”

[sauntereddownward]

"You're mad," he accused, but his wing moved a bit, up and down, and he delighted in the Grace he could feel being so close. Impulsively, he kissed the angel in return, chaste and quick.

[theangelfell]

“Crowley,” said Aziraphale quietly, then stopped, because he didn’t know what came next.

[sauntereddownward]

What came next was the warm embrace of a dark wing, a slight pivot, and a proper kiss. Full on the mouth, one that had been stewing for centuries.

[theangelfell]

Aziraphale gasped in surprise, and... kissed him back. There wasn't really a question this time that that's what he was doing. And he felt... so many things, all at once, just as he had the night before. It was overwhelming and terrifying and wonderful.

[sauntereddownward]

Crowley kissed him well and proper, tasting the Grace that lingered on the angel's tongue. He finally pulled away, breathless.

"You're quite the surprise, aren't you?" Crowley said reverently.

[theangelfell]

Aziraphale swallowed hard, and looked something between stunned and terrified. "I - Crowley, why do you keep doing that?" He couldn't work it out. "If - if you're trying to trick me into lust, fine, you've succeeded. Are you satisfied?"

[sauntereddownward]

"I know you won't believe me, but I'm not trying to trick you into anything," he replied.

"I was just hoping you...well, erm...I was hoping you might feel a bit the same as, erm...me."

[theangelfell]

Azirpahale was quiet for a moment. "What do you feel?"

He was having trouble accepting that this was anything but Crowley making fun or trying to manipulate him. Perhaps because the alternative was so hard to wrap his head around.

[sauntereddownward]

"Rather the opposite of disgust and repulsion, I should think," he said, not quite able to use words like love or affection.

[theangelfell]

"You're not... trying to tempt me?" Aziraphale ventured, sounding unsure.

[sauntereddownward]

"Awwwohhh, well...I'm not trying...but I'd quite like to hope I am despite all things," he replied.

[theangelfell]

"Mostly I'm feeling very confused," Aziraphale said softly.

[sauntereddownward]

"I don't know why you should, unless you've not been paying attention for the last three thousand years," he replied.

[theangelfell]

"But you can't possibly..." Aziraphale hesitated, almost whispered, "want me. What do you want?"

[sauntereddownward]

"Obviously, I want you," the demon replied.

[theangelfell]

Obviously. Obviously. Really? Was it obvious?

Aziraphale was not actually completely dense, even if a bit clueless when it came to this kind of thing. But the disconnect here was that it would not even begin to occur to Aziraphale that Crowley was talking about feelings. After all, whenever Aziraphale spoke of his fondness for love in humans, Crowley made faces or changed the subject. So of course Crowley meant lust, when he kissed him, when he spoke of wanting him. Which, while within the realm of possibility, was a bit baffling to Aziraphale. Unless, of course, the joy was in tempting him. And in succeeding. And this was what made Aziraphale twist all up in knots.

Because of course he wanted Crowley, too. And it wasn't just his feelings - because of course he had those - but it was lust, too. This was something that Aziraphale felt, and then felt guilty for. But he had dreams so real they felt like memories. Dreams about Crowley, about his hands and his skin, and oh.

He decided then that, selfishly, he would take advantage of Crowley wanting him - whether it was his own lust or whether it was the desire to spark it in Aziraphale. Either way, it put their desires in perfect alignment. Except -

"I - I think kissing is all right," Aziraphale said softly. "But I don't want to think beyond that, okay?"

[sauntereddownward]

"Best if you try not to think at all," Crowley replied. "Just makes things messy. I'd encourage you, angel, to do what you think is right. I mean, that's gotten you this far, now hasn't it?" he said in a rather blase tone, as if he couldn't be less interested. Except he was interested. Very interested. And he had been for millennia.