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Chapter Text

Crowley POV

It was thundering, flashes of lightning outside Crowley's window was the only source of light in his drab flat. Crowley held a bottle of wine, officially his fourth one that night. He swayed in the middle of his bedroom, the room was dark, rain pattered down on the window. He quizzically stared up at the ceiling rather drunkly, he had misplaced his sunglasses on some hard refined surface around his flat.

"Hey, Supreme Archangel Aziraphale?!" He yelled at nothing, his head tilted back, golden snake-like eyes staring at the blank ceiling. "You hear me, you bastard?!" He stood there for a moment, swaying in the drunken silence, he lifted the wine bottle up, but something stopped him.

The flashing memory of Aziraphale's lips, how sweet and salty they tasted, he quickly gulped the wine down, trying to ignore that memory like he had been trying for the past eight months. But still that little part of him, he supposed to be the demonic part as it loved to torture him, thought how nice it would be to imagine the wine bottle to be Aziraphale.

He pulled away, casting the bottle on some forgotten ledge on the wall. He frowned at the ceiling. "Can you hear me?" He repeated, quietly this time, his anger receding. "..Did it.. did it hurt?"

He thought about the way Aziraphale pulled away from Crowley, the way he gasped in air. That betrayed look as if Crowley had shocked him with a thousand bolts of electricity. How his shoulders shook, his voice trembling.
"Did it hurt?" He sobbed, but no real tears could come, he had cried all of them anyway. He gave a deep sigh and fell against the lush pillows of his bed, and draped the thin grey blanket over himself.

"Crowley!" The angel would yell in his dreams. Aziraphale wore chains, his shoulders being held by Michael and Uriel. Crowley was watching behind glass, it was dark where he was, but the angel was surrounded in the fluorescent lights of heaven. Something was different though, but he only noticed it until it was too late. They were casting him to hellfire. The plan, they hadn't gone through with the plan. They were going to switch bodies, intimidate their respective head offices and get the peace and quiet they deserved on earth.

Or maybe they had gone through with it, it just didn't work, maybe His Royal Smugness predicted it. All this would run through Crowley's panic endured mind as he watched his angel get dragged into a pit of fire.

He sprung up in bed, sweat covered him, in a body that didn't need oxygen let alone sweat, it was a scary feeling. He looked around wildly, expecting to see Aziraphale screaming, his body turning to ash. But even if it was real, he wouldn't be able to see as his vision was blurred by tears. Crying? That was new. Crowley thought, he wiped his eyes and hugged onto a silk pillow.

I should tell Aziraphale. He thought, reaching to the phone on his bedside before his hand twitched and his mind cleared. This is reality. Aziraphale is gone. He closed his eyes and his hand curled in to form a fist, he plunged his fist down to the bedside table feeling the shock of pain and his hand hit the wooden surface. He bit his lip hard, trying to hold in the sob.

Alcohol. That's what he needed, he took a breath and opened his eyes, getting out of his bed. He stopped at stared at the reflection of himself in the mirror. On a typical day he would have given himself a pep talk about how he needs to act cool around Aziraphale. Or he would have given himself the eye. Instead, he took in all the stuff wrong with him, which was a lot. His hair had grown out again, it was long, the fiery ends touching the sides of his jaw. His eyes were a dim shade of yellow, his clothes were rumpled and smelled. Which made sense as he constantly slept in them, he couldn't even be bothered to miracle a change of clothes, or some deodorant.

He took a step closer, staring deeply at himself, then suddenly, he bore his teeth and growled at himself. Hasturs voice echoed in his mind, that bastard doesn't ever give him a moment to rest. "We are the fallen. Don't ever forget that." He said to himself, then he slowly backed away and walked out the room.

If you thought his look was manic, his flat was worse
The plants had dried out, wine bottles were everywhere, music discs and vinyls lay scattered on the floor. He swaggered to the fridge, all that was in there was a pack of cigarettes for some reason.
"Don't remember puttin' those in there." He mumbled.
The rest of the fridge held half a bottle of cola, the Christmas edition, and a glass of whisky. He thought about having all three in one go, but it was too early, even for a demon.

He swiped the pack of cigarettes and opened it, kicking the door of the fridge shut with the heel of his boot. A single cigarette fell to the palm of his hand, he put it in his mouth and turned around to the kitchen counter where the lighter and ashtray would normally be, instead there lay the photo of Crowley and Aziraphale. It was 1941, Aziraphale had that stupid moustache on, with his top hat. They were making the exchange of the rifle, Crowley had his glasses on but he knew the expression behind them. He had been scared, they were both terrified to perform the Bullet Catch.

He closed his eyes, he could smell Aziraphale's cologne if he tried hard enough.

He held a pen unsteady in his hand, Aziraphale's chair in the other. "Crowley, dear boy, you're shaking." Aziraphale stared up at him, his sparkling blue eyes filled with concern for the demon.
"I told you, you can't trust me with drawing straight, not after two gins." Crowley mumbled. It was a lie, he could hold his drink better than any human, even if he never really had gin. But watching humans be drunk is like watching.. well humans drunk. They embarrass each other, Crowley and Aziraphale just ramble on about ineffability.

But that wasn't what was troubling him, it was Aziraphale lips, how the side of Crowley's hand kept bumping into the angels soft plump upper lip. Or it was how he could smell Aziraphale so strongly, or maybe the way he stared up at Crowley like that. Those angel eyes. Those damn angel eyes.

"Crowley." Aziraphale held onto Crowley hand, stopping him. "My dear, what's wrong?"
"Wrong? Nothin' Wrong M' just-"
"Just what?" Aziraphale was turned in his dressing room chair, looking at his reflection, wiping off another failed attempt at a moustache. His gorgeous blue eyes flicked up to Crowley once more, Crowley anticipated this, which was why he was know wearing sunglasses, so Aziraphale couldn't see the potentially guilty/hungry look in his eyes. He felt bad, having these thoughts about his best friend.

"Just nervous 'bout the act. What if it goes wrong?" Crowley straightened his back, and looked around at all the knick-knacks around the dressing room.
"Oh we will fine, the act will go swimmingly, I'm sure!"
Crowley spotted a pack of Marlboro on top of the shelf, next to a top hat. He plucked it up and took one out, he hadn't had a smoke in Satan know's how long, he could sure use one too.

He sat down on one of the sofas and put it to his lips, and miracled a lighter in his hand.
"Now, ready to try again? Third ones a charm as I like to s-" Aziraphale stared at him. "Crowley!"
"What?" Crowley asked, voice slightly muffled by the cigarette.
"Get that disgusting, cancer ridden stick out your mouth!" He reached forward, held onto Crowley's chin with one hand, and prised the cigarette out his mouth with the other.
"It could kill you!" Aziraphale cried, he flicked his wrist and the cigarette was gone, he took out a handkerchief and wiped his hand with it.

"Oh you know it's only dangerous for humans."
"Yes but-"
"And plus, it's MY decision, just like its any humans decision to ruin their lungs. They make it, just like I do." Crowley reasoned, he stared at Aziraphale watching him through the dark tinted glasses.
"Yes but- The sign!" He cried. Crowley looked at him confused, and the angel pointed to the door.

'NO SMOKING'

"There are rules." Aziraphale huffed. Crowley smiled to himself then turned back to Aziraphale.
"If it would make you feel better then, very well. This is your special night after all." Crowley smiled at him.
"Oh thank you, thank you, Crowley. Now," He held out the biro with that classic sparkle returning in his blue eyes, "Again?"

Crowley stood in his kitchen, cigarette in his mouth, he spat it out, the taste suddenly becoming too much. He dropped the picture onto the counter, and fled. It's better just to run, if you have any emotion you either run or drink.. or do both. And Crowley chose to run.

Chapter Text

Crowley's POV

He opened the bookshop door, the bell sounded above the door. What used to be a heavenly sound, now felt sinful to Crowley's ears. The bookshop hadn't changed, though he wished it had, he wished it didn't smell of Aziraphale, or that all the angels belongings weren't still here. He wished that they were on a different version of earth, where Armageddon really was happening, and the bookshop was still on fire, and the fire had engulfed everything in its wake, including him.

But there was no fire, and Crowley was still living in his worst nightmare. Aziraphale's fancy wine stayed in the backroom, his jackets stayed laying around the back of chairs on hung up on pegs behind a door.

Muriel worked the bookshop, and Crowley came over every day just to supervise her. It was really to make sure she wouldn't sell any books.
"Hello, Crowley!!" She waved expansively, she had finally found some normal human clothes to wear instead of the Constable uniform.
"Why are you waving like that?" Crowley glared at her through his glasses.
"Because she just found out that's another way to greet people." Nina turned the corner of the bookshop, putting down a cardboard box onto Aziraphale's old desk.

Her hair was tied back and she wore a light brown cardigan over a black t-shirt.
"What's this?" Crowley sauntered over to the box and peered inside, it was filled with children's books.
"Well I was thinking of donating." She shrugged.
"Sorry what? Donating?" Crowley was gripping his hands into firsts, so tight his fingernails drove tiny bloodless crescents into his palms.

"Yeah, well Mr where-ever-he-is won't need these anymore, and they could go to a lot of children in need."
"Oh, oh they could could they? Well bugger those children!" Crowley grabbed the box, holding it tighter than he needed to. "You do NOT sell any of these books, understand?"

"But why bother keeping books if there's no one here to read them?" She questioned, hand on hip.
"People read them!" Crowley spluttered.
"I read them!" Muriel grinned, holding her hand up like a school child.
Crowley pointed at her, "See?" He turned back to Nina. She watched him with analysing eyes.
"Alright, I need a drink, and you need to calm down. Follow me."

She walked out the shop, that cursed bell ringing once again. He followed her outside into the busy SoHo street. "Calm down?! I'm perfectly calm." He shook his head, and dug his hands into his jean pockets. Nina didn't say anything until they got into her coffee shop, it was a Sunday so everything closed early, no one would bother the redhead demon and the caffeine addict in there.

"You're not calm." She said, her voice level as she poured out a glass of wine. "You've been in a mood since the day Mr Fell left. I don't know what happened between you two but it needs to be sorted out. I don't care who does it, as long as it happens." She said matter-of-factly.

Crowley dragged a deep breath in through his sharp gritted teeth.
"You don't know anything that's going on! And you wouldn't understand even if I did tell you."
"Try me." Was all she said before sipping her wine.

Maggie walked in. "Oh hello, Crowley. Hi, love." She smiled and walked over to them. "Brought some more almond milk, like you asked."
"Thanks." Nina smiled back at her, but kept her eyes trained on Crowley. He was seething. What is it with humans and not knowing when to keep their noses out of things? He didn't want to tell anyone how he really felt, not even himself. What's the point when everyone let's you down anyway?

"Crowley here, won't explain why he's being such a miserable bugger." Nina exclaimed.
"Well whatever it is, I'm sure we can help." Maggie spoke softly, looking at Crowley.
Crowley snorted. "Sure, alright then." He glanced around the room, sucking his teeth, thinking it over, then looked back at them, "I loved Aziraphale, he doesn't love me back. Then he left me to become the new boss of Heaven. How about that for backstory of a miserable bugger?" Crowley stared at them angrily.

"Oh.. Oh I'm sorry Crowley." Maggie frowned, she reached out for Crowley's hand on the counter. He pulled it away and stuffed it in his pocket.
He nodded, looking away from them.
"Sorry but that's not enough." Nina stared at him.
"Nina.." Maggie warned.
"No, why haven't you tried even talking to him? I thought you two had known each other for 6,000 years or whatever."
"Yes, yes we have! But none of that matters now with him up there does it?!" He yelled, he was slowly losing his will to stay calm.

"Why don't we try to figure out what you should say to him?" Maggie asked slowly.
"And how are you gonna do that?" Crowley laughed.
Maggie looked around, then reached across the counter and pulled out a bit of paper and a pen. "We could write it out?"

"Write.. it out? Like what 'Oh Supreme Archangel, please give up all your mighty jobs to stop Heaven from crumbling to the ground, which it already is, and come live in a run down bookshop?' What makes you think that'll work?" Crowley threw his hands up. Stupid humans and their stupid requests.

"Stop being such a pessimist! And he doesn't need a bit of paper to explain his feelings! Just practice on Maggie, that's simpler." Nina huffed.

"Sorry what?" Crowley and Maggie said at once.

"Pretend Maggie is Mr Fell." Nina rolled her eyes. "Go on."

Crowley stared at Maggie, her blue eyes stared back, just like Aziraphale's but without the angelic sparkle.
"Fine!" Crowley, who had a big imagination, suddenly found it rather hard to imagine what to say to Aziraphale. Would he be wearing a white suit like Gabriel used to wear? Would he have longer or shorter hair? He had been imaging Aziraphale's face for months on end, now his mind was drawing a blank.

"I- I can't do it!"

"Oh jeez!" Nina rolled her eyes, "Imagine, you told Mr Fell you had to speak with him, Maggie, start it off."

Maggie slowly smiled and sighed. "Fine.. you uh.. you wanted to talk to me, Crowley?" She stared at him intently.
Crowley closed his eyes, took a breath, and opened them. "Yes. Yes I wanted to say- Wanted to uh say.. Yes I wanted to.." His brain was short circuiting, the image of Aziraphale standing in front of him wasn't working, instead it was making him even more nervous.

"Wanted to..?" Maggie/Aziraphale gestured vaguely around with a hand.
"Yes, I wanted to.. Oh for Satans- This isn't bloody working!" He yelled.
"You're not trying hard enough!" Nina scowled. "What do you really want to say to Aziraphale?"
"That he's an idiot!" Crowley growled, but he knew that was wrong, he knew Aziraphale wasn't an idiot, but he was tired and wanted a drink.

"No, really dig deep. What do you want to say to him?" Nina repeated, "And take off your glasses, theres no sun in here."
"You won't like that." He shook his head.
"I've seen a lot of weird things, I'm sure I can handle it." Nina put her hands on her hips.

Crowley took his glasses off, a look of surprise dawned them. He looked at Maggie's blue eyes.

They sat in the bookshops backroom, celebrating their victory of thwarting Armageddon. They had just dined at the Ritz, but Aziraphale invited him over for some fancy wine.
"I'm uh, sorry for being a little begrudging earlier." Aziraphale stared in his wine glass, watching the red swirl round and round.
"Oh it's whatever, all worked out in the end mh?" Crowley raised his eyebrow above the rim of his glasses.
Aziraphale looked at him, and Crowley suddenly felt very put on the spot. The angel had looked at him many times of course, but never really looked at him like that.

Aziraphale put his glass down on the side table and rose up. Crowley watched him. The angel stared down at him and slowly raised his hands to Crowley face, and took his glasses off, revealing his snake-like eyes.
"Oh, Crowley, you needn't hide who you are anymore, we've won. No need for these tatty things." He placed the sunglasses down along with his wine. But his hand lingered, so many times their hands lingered, too long to be friendly. Too long to be just friends.

"They're gorgeous." He heard it in the angels voice, but really it was Nina.
"They're just.. who I am. It doesn't matter." He shook his head, put them back on, and left the coffee shop without another word. All that was left was the echo of Aziraphale's voice.

'Oh, Crowley.. they're gorgeous.'

Chapter Text

Crowley POV

Crowley felt like he was sinking, but it was just the sofa. Unsurprisingly he was half way through a bottle of scotch when he started to slip off. His eyelids fluttering as they closed. The room becoming dimmer bit by bit. When he opened his eyes, again unsurprisingly, Aziraphale was there. They were in the backroom of the bookshop. The angels hands lingering on Crowley's face, just like the memory from earlier, but this time they were closer. This time Aziraphales lips lingered against the demons face as well as his hands.

Crowley felt the familiar pool of warmth settle throughout his body, he shivered. The angels lips were on his, he was pulling Crowley's tie, tugging him to his feet. Suddenly they were on the sofa, Crowley could feel the scratchy blanket below him, the worn cushions by his side. Aziraphales knee was pressing against Crowley's crotch, rubbing against him. Crowley dug his fingers into the felt of the angels jacket, holding on so tightly. Aziraphale murmured praises into Crowley's ear, rutting back and forth into him. The warmth grew, giving way to a pit far down in his stomach.

Crowley groaned, leaning his head on the armrest.
"Aziraphale.." He breathed.
"That's it.. you're doing ever so well.." He heard the angel whisper, feeling his hand wrap around his member. Crowley closed his eyes tight, convinced this wasn't real, convinced that if he opened them Aziraphale wouldn't be there.

A sudden wave broke through the dam, all the pain he had been going through had fled. He could hear the angels voice repeating his name over and over again. Telling him how good he was doing. He even heard it when he opened his eyes, when he recognised the ceiling as his own and, felt no scratchy blanket or worn cushions below him. When there was no Aziraphale.

He was lurching off the sofa, hand gripping the side so tightly. "Fuck." He moaned, hanging his head to the side. He brushed his hair back and leaned back against the arm rest to catch his breath. "Fuck's sake Aziraphale." He cursed. The love of his life leaves him, but stays with him in his dreams? When he was just getting used to the constant nightmares of Aziraphale and hellfire, his brain throws him through the erotic section of his subconscious instead.

He chalked it up to the fact he hadn't wanked in a while, and sat up. Feeling rather uncomfortable in his now ruined jeans, he miracled it away.

A knock came to the door. Crowley rolled his eyes.
"What now??" He ran a hand through his hair and got up, walking to the door and opening it.
Nina and Maggie stood outside. "What are you doing here now? Aren't you supposed to be running your shops?" Crowley leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms.

"Well we thought it better to merge the two, but that's not important." Maggie smiled, "We thought if we practiced in your home.. it would be uh.. more comfortable for you."

"I don't need any tips on how to feel better or whatever. I know how to feel better."
"And that is..?" Maggie raised her eyebrow.
"Enormous amounts of alcohol." Crowley responded cooly.

"Yes, I can see that.." Nina murmured, peering into his flat.
"I'm a little busy right now anyway."
"With what?" Nina snorted.
"With, uh.." Crowley had to think of a good reason to get them out of here so he could think about all those noises dream-Aziraphale had made, "drinking my enormous amounts of alcohol."

"Well, let me help you. Could do with some." Nina walked past Crowley and into the flat. Maggie mouthed 'sorry' and followed. Crowley's good reason to get them out, indeed did NOT get them out. He was gonna be stuck roleplaying with two humans for a while.

As he thought about it it wasn't too far from his dreams, or the way he would stare off and imagine what would happen if Aziraphale was standing in front of him.

"Right so, what do you want to say to him?" Maggie smiled then blinked, "Or me I guess.."
Crowley sighed, tipping back the sliver of scotch left in his glass before responding.
"Don't know, really."
"Well let's start off slow. Hi Crowley, what did you want to talk to me about?" Maggie beamed at him, Crowley stared blankly back at her.
"About you leaving me." He finally responded.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Are you upset with me?"
"Upset with you? Of course I'm bloody upset with you!  After I just explained why Heaven and Hell are toxic you go ahead and board a fucking elevator up there! What is-" He sighed, holding his nose bridge. No, no, no, this isn't what he wanted to say at all.

"Well.. Let's just take a step back, that may have been a bit too harsh." Nina shook her head.
"Try to be a bit more gentle." Maggie added.
Gentle was Aziraphale's job, Crowley wasn't gentle, he was a demon.

But nonetheless he obliged. "What did you want to talk about?" Maggie repeated, trying to sound more chipper, trying to sound like Aziraphale. No one could talk like him, other than the Archangel himself, and that familiar pain ached at his heart.

"I wanted to talk 'bout you leaving me on earth." He frowned, Maggie wasn't looking a whole lot like Maggie anymore, instead it was a warped version of Aziraphale.
"Well you didn't have to stay on earth did you? I thought you wanted to go to Alpha Centauri." He pointed out, in that know-it-all voice.

"I did but not on my own! With you!"
"And I tried to tell you that I can't go to Heaven on my own. I gave you the option of coming with me and you said no."
"Yeah because they are toxic! Should I remind you of what your former boss tried to do to you? Cast you into hellfire and destroy you forever." Crowley took a step closer, he could almost smell Aziraphale, but something was wrong. It was like a mirage.

"We're done Crowley." Aziraphale spoke coldly, and for a moment the vision of him stopped going in and out of focus, for a moment it stilled. Aziraphale had a beard, he looked scruffy but somehow still kept in shape. He was pale, and rose up above Crowley like a headmaster to a school child. His eyes stormy and cold.

"What..? how d'you mean? What are you talking about Aziraphale?! We can't just be done! We've known each other since the beginning, you can't let all that go to waste!" He cried, taking another step closer, but the angel was still so out of reach.

"Well I have duties to attend to, I can't be teaming up with some wily serpent for the fun of it. If I betray God I- I could never forgive myself. God is oh so very dear to me." Aziraphale's voice was fading, and Crowley's mind was spinning. Was this real? It can't be.

He found himself falling, falling and falling through the dark sky. Black tar dripping off his wings. He had them curled around him, cradling him as he fell.

Suddenly he woke up, he was cocooned in blankets. He didn't own many blankets, and he could tell immediately they were Aziraphales by the smell. Nina and Maggie had left, or were they ever even there. Was Aziraphale actually there? He didn't know anything anymore. The wily serpent started to cry.

Chapter Text

Aziraphale POV

Heaven was more difficult than Aziraphale had hoped. He was standing at the window, over looking the rest of the buildings in Heaven. While hell had some weird run down flat, with peeling wallpaper and sickening green lights. Heaven had building upon buildings all polished and whitewashed, all sparkled in the morning sun. It was never nighttime, the sun was always up, and so was Aziraphale. He rarely slept on earth, never found the need, but in Heaven he felt so run down that he longed for a warm blanket and cup of cocoa.

But he couldn't let himself get distracted, they knew. They all watched him, looking over every decision, every thought and word. Maybe, Aziraphale wondered, that's why Gabriel was such a prick all the time, because he felt watched. Aziraphale had already snapped multiple times at people, for simple things, and Aziraphale would never snap.

Often at these times, he would stare at the window for ages. It was his morning routine. And often, and some point or another, Crowley's face would appear in the reflection next to him. His old friend's thin frame leaning against the window, smirking at him.
"Was it all too good to be true?" He would say, eyebrow raised over the rim of his glasses.

"Oh do be quiet." Aziraphale sighed closing his eyes for a moment.
"Is it too late to say told-you-so?" Aziraphale smiled softly, he was surprised at the accuracy of his imagination. It was as if Crowley was really there.
"Can't you say something comforting for once?" Aziraphale glanced over at the image. Fake Crowley opened his mouth to say something in some sarcastic tone, when the image faded. It was replaced by Uriel, she was walking towards him, shoes tapping on the marble floor.

"We have a meeting arranged for you, Supreme Archangel Aziraphale." She stopped, about eleven feet away from him, her voice echoed around the room. Aziraphale smiled, straighten his white jacket and nodded. "Very well."

Cherubs, he thought glumly. They were all arguing over the new rules for their section in Heaven. Cherubs had always been absolutely useless, he remembered in the old times of Heaven when they would tremble at the thought of 'Extreme Sanctions'. Now the book of life was real, but now they trembled before Aziraphale, rumours were already growing about his quick tempter, and already, some angels had been erased. In secret of course, can't let anyone find out Heaven had an institutional problem. Anyway, the Cherubs were more than upset.

"Alright, alright." Aziraphale muttered, his hand on his forehead, they didn't hear him. He stood up. "Enough!" He barked, they all turned and looked at him. "I am deeply sorry for the shock and confusion of the very much real Extreme Sanctions, but there is nothing I can do." Aziraphale sighed and smiled at them.

"It's ludicrous!" One of them yelled.
"Being erased entirely??" Another one shook their head.
"Yes, sounded like a good idea when they came up with it." He murmured, then shook his head and spoke up, "And it still is a good idea! Anyone not doing as they're told will have to fear Extreme Sanctions! That's just how it works, there is nothing wrong with it, and whoever says it's toxic will be cast to hellfire, is that understood?!" He cried.

There was silence, Aziraphale heard his own voice bounding around the cavernous space. It wasn't his voice though, not really. He would never yell like that, he got a little tetchy sometimes but so did everyone, Heaven was breaking him more than he thought. One by one the Cherubs left the meeting, heads hung low. Aziraphale lowered his head and gripped the sides of the glass table, he breathed heavily.
"Cast to hellfire?" Crowley asked, he was leaning nonchalantly against the table staring at the angel.
"You heard me." Aziraphale muttered, still staring at the ground.
"You know what I think, angel?" Crowley asked, his accent showing through when he called Aziraphale 'angel'

"I don't really care what you think, you're not real." Aziraphale muttered angrily.
"But you still want to know, anyway." Crowley smirked. "I think, you're starting to sound a lot like Gabriel." Aziraphale looked up, Crowley had vanished.

Even if Crowley wasn't real, he was right. Aziraphale anxiously gripped the bottom of his waistcoat.
The demon was right.. The demon was right.

Chapter Text

Aziraphale POV

There was still light outside of course, but Aziraphale had requested for an office, luckily no one bothered him in there. he had put curtains up around the windows to stop the sunlight. He sat in his chair writing, it was an uncomfortable wooden chair, most unlike like the chairs at his bookshop. He missed how they let him sink down into the fabric, how they smelt old with frayed edges. Overall, he missed feeling comfortable.

He was stuck in fancy (verging onto swanky) white tailored suits. He could have asked for a different chair, could have miracled it in himself, but some part of him felt like he should suffer, this is what he deserved. He didn't need reading glasses anymore, the powers of heaven fixed his eyes for him. He didn't need to sully his perfect immortal being with the likes of human food or wine.

It was rather frowned upon to have wine, unless in a group setting in heaven. Like the Last Supper. But Aziraphale still put his pen down, looked up from his paperwork, and thought to himself, 'I need a drink'
In which a bottle of fresh wine appeared on the table.

Few bottles in and he was up, pacing around his office.
"My love, you're pacing." Fake Crowley pointed out, he was sat in Aziraphales chair, wine glass in hand.
"It's your fault you know." Aziraphale stopped and stared at him.
"Oh pointing fingers now, are we?"
"No I just.. If only you said yes! Why couldn't you just say yes to me?!" Aziraphale cried, thrusting his arms out in the air to empathise his words, wine spilt onto the marble, which immediately vanished.

"Mh.." Crowley thought for a moment then looked at Aziraphale, "Shouldn't that be a question for the real me?"
"The real you? How could I possibly..?" He thought about how easy it could be, he could just walk straight to the elevator, all he needed to do was press a few buttons.

"It can't be that easy, alarms would go off." Aziraphale frowned, deep in thought.
"Yes, but what if you told them it was an important matter?" Aziraphale considered, then shook his head.
"They know I want to see Crowley, they know I want him on my side. They would track me down in seconds."

"Well I suppose you're just stuck here then, with meetings upon meetings. Michael and Uriel and all the Cherubs you could dream of rambling in your ear. And no word from All Mighty Herself." Crowley smirked and drank more wine.

Aziraphale groaned, he was stuck here. A plume of white and gold shot up in the corner of his room. Crowley jumped back. "What the bloody hell is that??"
"I don't know." Aziraphale slowly inched towards it, suddenly he could hear a voice.. A voice he thought he wouldn't actually hear ever again.

It was Crowley.

////Crowley's POV////

Crowley was fed up. He was fed up of drinking, something that he thought he would never admit, fed up of thinking about Aziraphale all the time. The dream did something to him. He had had multiple in the past, ranging from all different scenarios, when they had that argument about Holy Water. That dream was rather.. aggressive.

Or when they were in the midst of the whole keeping Gabriel/Jim safe, situation. It had been in one of the storage rooms, they had to be quiet and discreet. Old books piled up surrounded them.

He didn't always remember his dreams, but most of the ones with his angel in, he would remember.
But that dream.. it did it for him. He walked around his flat for the billionth time and stared at the painting of the Mona Lisa. A year ago behind that painting there was Holy Water. Crowley closed his eyes remembering the night Aziraphale had given him the thermos.

"Anywhere you want to go." Crowley had hoped he didn't sound needy, but he also couldn't care less. Aziraphale had just given him Holy Water. And Crowley couldn't be more grateful to have a friend like his angel. He could feel his heart fluttering in his chest.

Aziraphale gave him a soft smile, the neon lights from the clubs outside giving a red tint to his golden curls.
"You go to fast for me, Crowley." And he had left. Left him alone. Years later he realised, he wasn't being told to back off, he was being told 'I love you.'

Everything, everything they had gone through was together. By each others side. He knew what he had to do.

He grabbed his sunglasses and jacket and ran out the door. Down the steps and out the front door to his Bentley.

The Bentley had been driving him insane, so he rarely drove it anymore. When he would exit his flat he would see the Bentley coloured yellow. When he would get inside it would play Queen like normal, except it would play the saddest ones, or the ones that reminded him of Aziraphale.

But right now, he was dealing with it, he didn't care if the lyrics were potential foreshadowing.

🎵When I grow older I will be there at your side to remind you how I still love you.🎵
🎵Back, hurry back. Please, bring it back to me, back you don't know how much it means to me. Love of my life.🎵

He kept a spare key for the bookshop, he parked the Bentley at an angle to the shop, ready to make a quick escape if this doesn't work. He unlocked the door and entered. He stared at the rug covering up the portal on the floor, and swiped it across the room. He put down candle sticks, tapping it and watching the flame dance from his finger to the candle.

Soon the circle was ringed with candles. He frowned questioning his plan for the first time. Would it work? Technically he wasn't an angel anymore, but like he said to Muriel they never change their passwords. And even if his side won't be very happy with him after this, it doesn't matter anymore.

"Hello? Anyone there?" He stared at the ceiling far above him, nothing happened. He stared at the circle by his feet, it wasn't glowing. He sighed.
"I guess you want me to do it the proper way then?" Slowly, and somewhat gracefully, Crowley got down on his knees. He clasped his hands together and closed his eyes.

"Aziraphale, if you're listening," He murmured, "this is really humiliating, so it would be so lovely of you to just answer me now? Thanks."

He opened his eyes and saw a plume of light, didn't want to step in, he only wanted to talk. His plan was going well so far.

Chapter Text

Aziraphale POV

"Aziraphale, if you're listening, this is really humiliating, so it would be so lovely of you to just answer me now? Thanks." He heard Crowley say. Aziraphale moved closer to the ray of light.
"..Crowley?" He murmured under his breath, he was too shocked to find his voice.
"Helloooo? Oh, Archangel Aziraphale?" Crowley called, his voice reverberating around the room.
"Crowley.." Aziraphale swallowed and stepped closer to the warm light, "Crowley is that you?"

"Well who else would it be?" He heard the smirk in Crowley's voice, but he knew him well enough to hear the edge to it, Crowley was pretending to be happy. Aziraphale's heart ached. The flash of memory, that he had tried too hard to suppress, came through. Their kiss. Aziraphale shook his head and straightened his jacket, he needed to be professional and ignore the hairs rising on his neck from hearing Crowley's voice.

"What are you doing?? And how are you doing it? You're a demon, this shouldn't be possible!"

"Can you see me through the portal?" Aziraphale leaned over watching the gushing light as it suddenly cleared and an image of Crowley was displayed. He was in the bookshop, using its portal, but he was on his knees, hands together. It was the holiest image Aziraphale had ever seen, and Crowley was a demon.

"Uh.." He thought back to what the demon had said in the first place 'this is really humiliating' He decided against telling him the truth. "No, I can only hear you, my boy," He heard a sigh of relief come from the other line, "But what are you doing?"
"Praying. Boy that's gross to say, anyway, look I uh- I got some stuff to tell you, important stuff, so if you could just come down here that would be great." Crowley rushed his words out anxiously, so it was hard to dissect what he was trying to say.

"You want me.. to come down there..? To earth?" Aziraphale had a glassy look across his eyes, he wanted to go to earth and he wanted to talk to Crowley, but he couldn't disobey Heaven.
"Yes.." There was a hesitation for a moment then, he couldn't be sure, but he swore he heard Crowley say, "Please."

Aziraphale slowly nodded. "Alright then, but this is not good, I could get in a lot of trouble for this.." Aziraphale looked at the door over his shoulder, but the warmth of the light was too enticing, too holy.
Slowly he turned to face the portal, inching his foot closer to the edge. Finally he stepped in with both feet, and the room vanished around him.

Aziraphale opened his eyes, he was in the bookshop, he still wore his white suit, he was still a Supreme Archangel, but he was on earth. Back in his bookshop. He smiled and sighed as if a massive weight was taken from his shoulders. Then he looked forward and saw Crowley, still on his knees, staring up at him.

////Crowley POV////

It was magic, Crowley had never cared for magic, found it demeaning really, but when Aziraphale appeared through the haze of the portal like The big J.C  himself, it felt like magic.
Aziraphale was different. He wore a white tailored (almost too tailored) suit jacket, with a white waistcoat and light blue shirt. He also had a beard now, like Crowley had dreamt, it was slightly ratty but somehow well cut.

He also, surprisingly, had wings. Gabriel didn't have wings, maybe it was a choice. Aziraphale noticed him staring.

"You.. don't like them?" He asked, glancing behind himself slightly, his wings fluttered gently behind him.
"No, no, no." Crowley got to his feet, heat rising in his cheeks, "I like them.." The last time he had seen Aziraphale with wings was.. It hurt to remember, remember when he was an angel, but he could remember Aziraphale, how gorgeous he looked, how heavenly.

And staring at the Archangel himself now, was like looking back to that moment. To the beginning.
"You said you had something rather important to discuss?" Aziraphale said, suddenly sounding rather authoritative. It was a new look for the angel. He had always been a sharp tongue, but he never.. looked down on someone.

The heat rose higher, Crowley was certain his ears were now blushing scarlet. "Yes, yes, wine?" Crowley smirked.

They were in the backroom again, after so long, Aziraphale was hesitant, his wings were gone, after they accidentally knocked into a book.
"I can only have a glass, I'm on a strict time schedule."
"Mh yes, heavenly duties and such." Crowley absentmindedly poured out to glasses of wine.

They sat opposite each other, staring all around. Crowley stared at the wall, Aziraphale stared at the carpet. Crowley poured another glass for himself, Aziraphale stared at a book.
Finally Crowley noticed, the angel was staring at him. Crowley pretended to be interested in the wine, but he watched Aziraphale. Aziraphale gazed at him for a long moment, before sipping his glass, then resting his hands in his lap.

"Crowley, can you tell me now..?"
"Mh?" Crowley looked up and into the angels magnificent blue eyes.
"The thing you so desperately needed to tell me?"
"Ah, yes, that.. Thing.." Crowley racked his brain trying to grasp words to say. He thought about all the things Nina and Maggie went through with him.

"You leaving me for Heaven, let's start there." Crowley stared at Aziraphale over the brim of his glasses. The angels look hardened.
"Well it had to be done." He said matter-of-factly.
"Had to be done? Aziraphale you left me! Abandoned me here!" The demon cried.
"Abandoned is a little harsh." Aziraphale scoffed, "You didn't want to go with me, you rejected my offer, so I went on my own. Simple as that."

"Oh it's as simple as that is it?" Crowley watched him angrily.
"Mhm." Aziraphale nodded and took another sip.
"I see.." They sat in silence for a moment.

"Why didn't you say yes to me, Crowley." Aziraphale finally spoke, his voice was quieter, the know-it-all authoritative voice had disappeared, and there sat the real Aziraphale.

"Because for as long as you've known me, you know I want to be on my own side."
"But that's not how it works, Crowley! I needed you, I was offering you a place to work with me! Why couldn't you say yes to me..?" Aziraphale was breaking apart, a vale that had been painted onto him to seal his lips, was slowly slipping.

Crowley started noticing new things about his angel. the bags under his eyes, he had lost some weight but he didn't look very healthy. He looked sick, his skin pale.

"Aziraphale.." Crowley said in a more serious tone, "What have they done to you?" He was up from his chair, standing over Aziraphale, reaching his hand out to his cheek.

As he laid his hand on the angels cheek, he flinched, as if being burned, and pulled away.
"I- I should go.." Aziraphale hurriedly got up, but in the process, knocked over the wine and spilt it on the carpet. "I really need to go. Heaven would have noticed." He started to rush out the door of the backroom.

"Aziraphale." Crowley followed. The angel ignored him.
"Aziraphale why did you pull away?" The angel stopped, his back to Crowley.

"I wasn't expecting your touch that's all."

"No, not that. When I kissed you. You pulled away, as if I had thrown an electric eel at you." Crowley closed his eyes, the look on Aziraphale's face imprinted behind his eyelids.

Aziraphale turned and looked at him.
"Electric eel?" He asked, Crowley opened his eyes and nodded. He looked at the ground.
"You looked terrified... Please just tell me.. Did it hurt?" He muttered helplessly.
"Oh no, no, no, no." Aziraphale took a step towards the demon. "I- I wanted to say.."

"What? That I'm a demon? That we can't be together? That you hate me, and I'm disgusting and-"
"Do it again. I wanted you to do it again."

Chapter Text

Crowley POV

They stared at each other, the room silent apart from the humdrum of passing engines and humans prowling around outside. Crowley stared into the angels eyes, unsure of where to stand with him. It was certainly new information, information he was not expecting.

"You what?" He finally said. The angel watched him carefully, then took a step closer, he could smell the purity dripping off him.
"I want- I wanted you to do it again.." Another step "I want you.." Another step, there was hardly any distance between them, "To do it again." He whispered, staring up at him.

"That's.. what I thought you said." Crowley smirked but in reality his heart was beating faster than ever.
"So tell me.. my dear, tell me you want to." Aziraphale reached up and took the demons glasses off. They stared at each other.

"I want to."

Aziraphale reached up, taking the demons face in his hands and pulled them together. Their faces fit together so perfectly, like the last puzzle piece, finishing off a beautiful, full picture. It was perfect, feeling the angels lips on his for the first time in months. It made Crowley wonder why he ever let Aziraphale leave, he must have been mad. Then the air changed, Aziraphale's lips weren't just being that sweet innocent romantic feeling anymore. Crowley sensed the lust flooding into the room. He pulled away, shocked. He didn't know angels could feel lust, unless they really wanted to.

"What's wrong?" Aziraphale asked, but he wasn't watching the demons eyes anymore, he was watching his lips. Hungry for more.

"I.. I don't think I can do this.."

"What?" That made him look at Crowley, properly look at him.

"I'm sorry, Aziraphale." Crowley reached for his glasses, taking them out of Aziraphale's hand, and putting them on. Shielding his eyes from the ray of light in front of him, the ray of light he broke. He broke Aziraphale. He had broken an angel.

////Aziraphale POV////

He was back in the same place he had been 8 months ago, Crowley had put his glasses on, walked out his shop and left the feeling of impurity still freshly lingering on the angels lips. He pressed two fingers against his lips, and closed his eyes. Aziraphales body was on fire, a fire he had never felt before. Angels were typically sexless, unless they made a real effort, and something had happened just then, when he kissed Crowley.

His whole world was tilted to a different angle. He wanted more, wanted to taste more of the demon. It was almost, strangely, the same feeling he had felt when he first ingested human food. Crowley had offered him an ox-rib, and he had eaten it, expecting to be disgusted, but he only found out he had been starving.

Now, a new realisation had dawned on him, he had been starving, but for Crowley. For the connection they had, a connection he couldn't form with anyone else, demon or angel. He stood there for a moment, body burning, mind working furiously on this new sensation. What did humans do when they felt this way? Something embarrassing, his mind answered, something unholy. But he was done with all the holy stuff, right?

"Of course you are." Fake Crowley answered. Aziraphale opened his eyes and looked at his imaginary friend. He was leaning against Aziraphales old desk, drinking wine. "That's why you entered the portal isn't it? Leaving it all behind for good? Joining Crowley's side?"

"But.. but there can't be another side.. There's only-"

"Heaven and Hell?" Aziraphale silently nodded, and stared intrigued at the imaginary demon. "Think about it, angel, you are more human than any of them. You ingest human food, you read the arts of humans and respect them, even enjoy them." Aziraphale thought this over, "You're feeling lust for God's sake! No angel would ever drop down to that. No angel would ever kiss a demon would they? You're an outcast, Aziraphale."

With that, fake Crowley disappeared. Aziraphale looked down at himself, his body had calmed down, but his mind was still fast at work. "An outcast." Aziraphale echoed. "I need to get out of this ridiculous suit."

////Crowley POV////

Well, it was just like everyone had told him. He was a demon, evil at heart. All he could ever do was tempt people, and ruin lives. Even if that meant he ruined his 'best friends' life. He was leant against the kitchen counter in his flat, queen playing loudly over the speaker, pouring the rest of his bottle of sailors rum into a tall glass.

He would drink mindlessly then pass out on the sofa, like most nights. The angel probably had gone back to his other heavenly buddies, told them a dangerous demon had coorsed him to visit earth. He was the villain, and Aziraphale the damsel in distress, that only needed rescuing by a bunch of goons in white suits.

He was a good for nothing demon. Or was he a bad for nothing demon? If he was a demon that meant he was bad for nothing, right? Crowley pondered this drunkly. "I only ever wanted to help.. I never really wanted to hurt people. Or Aziraphale.. Especially Aziraphale." Crowley sighed and looked down at his glass, there was no point in talking to the ceiling, they couldn't hear him. He had gotten on his knees for nothin'. He had tempted an angel for nothing. He was a ruin.

Crowley let the tear roll down his cheek. He rolled the glass of rum across the counter, and slumped down in a chair. He would just sleep, sleep for another 100 years, by then the world would have moved on.

He fell asleep. Before drifting off, he muttered sleepily to himself, in almost a fleeting prayer, "Please don't let me dream of him. Don't let me dream of my angel."

When he opened his eyes, in his dream Aziraphale was stood above him. Nothing new there. Nothing new apart from the ropes on his wrists. "I won't let you ever get away from me again." The angel muttered. It wasn't Aziraphale though, or well it was, but in Crowley's body. They were back when they did the body swap. Crowley was Aziraphale, strapped to the chair like he had been in Heaven, when they tried to kill him.

"Are you going to be good?" Crowley nodded.

"I need it in words, dear. I need you to wake up." Crowley stared at him confused. Wake up?

"Please? Don't be mad at me.. I wanted to give you something kind. Wake up!"

Crowley woke up with a jolt. "Careful. Careful." Aziraphale muttered in a comforting tone, holding Crowleys shoulders. His face was close to Crowley's, noses almost touching.

"What..?"

"You were uh.. having what I thought to be a nightmare.. So I helped you, well I uh. Oh it's hard to explain.." Aziraphale rambled.

Crowley looked down at his wrists, they weren't bound to the chair, but they were bound by Aziraphales hands. "Hard to explain like, you holding down my wrists? And letting yourself in to my flat?" Crowley grinned, but he was confused, and embarrassed. He wished Aziraphale would let go of his wrist so he could wave away the obvious hard-on he had in his jeans.

"Well.." Aziraphale laughed, "Got any alcohol?"

Chapter Text

Aziraphale POV

A few minutes earlier.

Aziraphale looked at himself one more time in the mirror. He was wearing his old clothes, though he just couldn't find his favourite bowtie, so he wore a different one instead. He was going to fix this, fix it and figure out what to do next later. One thing at a time. He didn't know where Crowley was, but judging by the fact his Bentley was not parked outside, he should have been in his flat. So Aziraphale walked there. The whole time he reminded himself, one thing at a time.

Crowley was obviously upset, so he'll knock on the door, and they can discuss what's bothering him. If the bloody, old wile serpent ever opens up about his true feelings, of course.

Aziraphale noticed the car even before he reached the flat. As the Bentley was bright yellow, and the wheels were bending and relaxing again as if it were a puppy wagging its tail when their owner came home.

"I missed you too." Aziraphale smiled and patted the roof of the car before continuing up the stairs. He pressed the buzzer to Crowley's flat. Nothing. He opened the screen doors and walked inside, he walked up the stairs.
"Oi' If you're seeing the redhead, tell him to keep the music down will ya?" An old lady poked her head out her door and smiled at Aziraphale.
"Will do." Aziraphale smiled back and continued up the stairs, to where the sound of Freddy Mercury's voice was carrying through the stairwell.

Aziraphale reached the door and knocked. Nothing. He knocked again, this time he put his ear up against the door, other than Queen playing loud enough for people in both Heaven and Hell to hear, Aziraphale heard something else. It sounded like a strangled scream. Aziraphale, who was now growing a pit of worry in his stomach, miracled the door open.

Crowley sat, slumped in a chair next to the sofa. The chair, surprisingly, looked comfortable, unlike Crowley. His eyes were squeezed shut, his brows furrowed. His chest rose and fell dramatically. His head lolled back, his Adams apple on show. Aziraphale tried to ignore how good Crowley's neck looked on display. He also tried to ignore the whimpers falling out the demons mouth.

"He must be having such a dreadful nightmare." Aziraphale held his hand across his heart in sympathy. "I suppose..." Aziraphale suddenly pondered, "I suppose I should stop it for him, he doesn't deserve to be tortued in his sleep." One of Aziraphale's powers was to keep people's dreams happy, really it was to spread the word of God and positivity, and holiness, but who would say no to a good dream?

Aziraphale connected his mind to Crowley's wavelength. Suddenly he found himself surrounded by fire, a creeping sense of guilt rose in his cheeks. "He wouldn't like me spying.." Aziraphale banished the dream with a wave of his hand. "Hopefully now, you can dream of something you actually like." Aziraphale muttered, and left. He sighed, staring at Crowley's sleeping body.

"I suppose I should leave now." Aziraphale straightened his waistcoat, turned on his heel and faced the door. He was about to leave when he heard the quietest mutter of, "Aziraphale.."
The angel turned his head, Crowley was shifting in the chair now, little noises escaping his mouth.
"...Crowley?"
"Mh-" Crowley hummed.

What was wrong? "I thought I stopped the nightmare.." Aziraphale walked closer to the demon, he pushed up in the chair, hips moving in search for friction. Aziraphale glanced down, noticing the tent trapped below Crowley's jeans.
"Oh.. I- I see." Was all Aziraphale could muster, blood rushing to his cheeks.

"A-angel-" Crowley whimpered. I can't just stand here and watch, Crowley would most certainly not appreciate that.. But he looked so good like that. Aziraphale bit his bottom lip absentmindedly. He had to wake him. Crowley's nails were digging into the fabric of the armrests.

"Well that's just not good at all." Aziraphale held onto Crowley's wrists lightly, not enough to wake him, but enough to stop him scratching up his furniture. He didn't want Crowley to wake up and see scratch-marks all over his lovely chair, even if he could miracle it away.

Crowley was still for a moment, quietly panting, then suddenly he started pulling, trying to get free. The only option left was to wake him. Aziraphale took a breath, he did have to check, just in case it was a nightmare.

"Crowley?" He coughed and tried again, "Crowley are you okay?"

Surprisingly the demon nodded. Could he hear him?
"I need it in words, dear, I need you to wake up." Crowley stopped thrashing, his thigh twitched slightly.

"Please? Don't be mad at me.. I wanted to give you something kind." Aziraphale could feel the hot pool of guilt stabbing him in the back. "Wake up!"

Crowley jolted awake, golden eyes spread wide. "Careful. Careful." Aziraphale muttered holding onto Crowleys shoulders. He was leaning over Crowley and just realised how close he was to the demon.

"What..?" Crowley stared around the room for a moment before focusing on Aziraphale once more.

"You were uh.. having what I thought to be a nightmare.. So I helped you, well I uh. Oh it's hard to explain.." Aziraphale couldn't find the right words to say, and Crowley didn't know about his dream visiting ability. Aziraphale's hands had drifted again from Crowley's shoulders to his wrists.

"Hard to explain like, you holding down my wrists? And letting yourself in to my flat?" The demon grinned widely, but he was nervous, Aziraphale could tell. And Aziraphale on the other hand, was guilty. He should never have gone to the flat.

"Well.." Aziraphale laughed, "Got any alcohol?"

Aziraphale let go of Crowley's wrists and stood back, cupping his own hands together.

"Got any- Aziraphale, you've only been gone eight months, I haven't suddenly stopped drinking. Of course I got alcohol." Aziraphale blushed even more, which he thought was impossible, but suddenly he noticed something, the minute flick of the wrist. It wouldn't have looked like anything to the average viewer, but to Aziraphale he noticed it immediately.

Crowley's shoulders relaxed, his face fell slightly, and his pulled his t-shirt down. Aziraphale smiled. "Well perfect, I already spot the bottle on the counter over there." As he walked past, ever so slightly, he glanced down to Crowley's lap. The tension had gone, Crowley had miracled it away. Aziraphale smiled to himself, then grabbed the bottle of rum from the counter and got out two glasses.

////Crowley////

Crowley was embarrassed, confused, and uncomfortable. He didn't know where to begin. Let's start with embarrassed. He had fallen asleep and had an unexpected, erotic dream about his.. 'friend' which said friend saw. Confused, what was Aziraphale even doing in his flat?? And what did he mean when he had said 'So I helped you'?

And uncomfortable, well what were they supposed to do now?? They couldn't discuss what just happened.. but they also should probably clear the air. Luckily though, he got away with the miracle. He shifted in the chair, easing himself into a more comfortable place.

"So uh, thanks," Crowley took the glass of rum, "What did you mean when you said 'helped you'? How did you help me, exactly?" Crowley took a sip and watched the angel as he sat down on the sofa.

"I.. As an angel, I need to spread the word of God of course, just like you do with- with Satan. Like putting satanic messages into cartoons which you can only hear if you slow it down enough? Or making all of London." Aziraphale sighed, looking mildly embarrassed.
"With you so far." Crowley nodded.
"Now of course we do that too," Aziraphale continued, "giving cartoons happy 'love thy neighbour' messages and all that.. but we also do it within the confines of sleep, and dreams. And well, that means we have access to peoples wavelengths, and if we can access them we can access the dreams."

"To spread the word of God?" Crowley asked, but he knew what Aziraphale meant.
"Well- yes.. you would think so wouldn't you? But sometimes humans can dream up some pretty awful stuff-"
"Should see what my nightmares are like." Crowley muttered smiling and took another sip.
"Yes, well, thats exactly it. If a human is having a bad dream, we have the power to banish it, and wish them a good dream instead. When I entered your flat, I thought you were having a bad dream, so I decided to travel there. I banished the dream and wished you anything you would prefer. I just didn't know that meant.. you would dream like that.."

Aziraphale nursed his glass, and looked away from Crowley. "Ok, well uh.. Why are you still here?"

"Pardon?"
"Well it's just, you're not in that dammed white suit anymore, you haven't gone back upstairs, and you're even staying after.. that." Crowley noticed out the corner of his eye, Aziraphale shift in his seat. "So why?"

Aziraphale scoffed, "Oh come, old boy, I know you, you're not thick. You know why I'm still here." Aziraphale got up from the sofa, in search of the rum bottle left on the counter, Crowley got up too and, in a flash, they were against the wall.

Crowley took a deep breath, inhaling the lust filling the room. He was indeed a demon, he couldn't ignore his own instincts, he couldn't ignore his nature.

Aziraphale's eyes were wide, staring up at Crowley. Crowley remembered when they were at the former nunnery/turned paintball shooting ground, where Crowley pushed Aziraphale against the wall. The angel had stared up at him in surprise, but something was different now. Aziraphale had want and fascination in his eyes.

"I don't think I understand.. Angel." The demon slurred the nickname along his tongue as he spoke it. "Please, enlighten me." Crowley grazed a finger along the angels jawline, Aziraphale breathed in, closing his eyes.
"Well I love you, my dear." Aziraphale opened his eyes and held Crowley's wrist. "And I'm frankly burning with curiosity."
"Mh?" Crowley hummed, interested.
"What did you dream about, my love?"

Crowley opened his mouth, but Aziraphale cut him off. "I know it was about me, of course, but.." Aziraphale trailed his fingers across the demons chest, leaving little flames across Crowley's heart. It fluttered. "What precisely was happening. More importantly.." Aziraphale was walking now, and Crowley, only realising until the back of his legs hit the sofa, was walking too. "What was I doing to you?"

Chapter Text

Crowley POV

Crowley was rarely ever nervous, but now he was nervous. He stared at the excited eyes of his lover, as he was slowly trailing his hands along Crowley's chest.

"Crowley? Have I lost you?" The angel couldn't keep his amusement out his voice. He pulled on Crowley's tie. "Are you going to answer my question? Or will I have to guess?" Crowley didn't know what that meant, but he was ready to find out. Anything for his angel.

"I uh- You can guess. I'll give you hints." Crowley grinned widely.
"Very well." Aziraphale pushed him back, lightly though, the angel didn't want to hurt him, he realised. Crowley's grin fell into a soft smile. His heart warming.

"Something like this..?" Crowley leant the back of his neck against the top of the sofa, so he could watch Aziraphale. Aziraphale got on his knees in front of him, making his hands busy with the demons belt.

Crowley blushed hard, his body heating up. But he could tell something was wrong. He put a hand on Aziraphale's stopping him.
"Angel.. What's wrong?"
"Sorry uh- there's nothing wrong." Aziraphale smiled at him, then looked back down at the belt.
"If it's the belt I can just miracle it away you don't have to worry."

"Its not the bloody belt." Aziraphale scoffed lightly.
"Well what is it?" Crowley sat up slightly.
"I've never.. never done anything like this before. I mean it was seen as rather sinful by my people.. Especially with a uh.."
"Demon. Right." Crowley finished with a nod, staring away from Aziraphale to the wall behind him.

"Oh my love, I want to, I want to make you feel good. I'm just rather inexperienced at these things." Aziraphale blushed.

"I thought you and Oscar Wilde had something?" Crowley raised an eyebrow.

"Oh that was just a silly rumour!" Aziraphale blushed scarlet.
"Alright, alright.. how about I make it more comfortable?" Crowley stood up and held Aziraphales sides. "We just.. take it slow?"

"I would never expect you, of all people, to 'take it slow'"

Aziraphale's words rang in his ears. 'You go too fast for me Crowley.'

"Well.. just don't wanna go too fast." Crowley forced a smile, then looked at the angels eyes, and kissed him.

They stood there for a moment, before Crowley waved his hand and they were in the bedroom. Aziraphale pulled away and looked around the room in surprise, then turned back to Crowley and smirked.
"Very sly, my dear."
"Well what can I say? I'm a wile serpent."

They smiled at each other, then Crowley laid back on the bed.
"I still don't know-" Crowley shushed the angel, putting a finger to his lips, and took the angels hand, trailing it to Crowley's belt. "You were doing just fine earlier, keep doing that." Crowley smiled.

Aziraphale nodded, undoing the demons belt and taking it off, then unbuttoning the jeans and pulling them down. He watched with slight fascination as the angel eyed Crowley's bulge through his boxers. Then slowly pulled them down and held the demons member.

Aziraphale sized it up in his hand.
"What? Comparing?" Crowley smirked and the angel tutted, smiling.

He gently pumped him up and down till he settled in a rhythm. Crowley tilted his head back against the pillows, moaning.
"You're doing ever so well~" Aziraphale cooed, swiping his thumb across the tip, using the pre-cum as lubricant. He moved his wrist faster, each pump going from the top to right down to the base.

"Mh." Crowley hummed, shifting his hips, gently thrusting into Aziraphale's hand.

"Does that feel good?" Aziraphale asked, smiling.

"Oh, God yes, Angel~" Crowley muttered into the side of the pillow.

Crowley prayed this wasn't a dream. Aziraphale swiped his thumb along the tip once more, catching the pre-cum and slowly raised his thumb to his mouth. Crowley watched with wide golden eyes as Aziraphale sucked on his thumb, his hand still working away.

"Mhg- Angel.. I.. Might-" Crowley moaned helplessly.
"Shh, I know, its okay, you're doing so well. Here, can you sit on the edge of the bed for me?" Aziraphale stared up at Crowley, with sparkling eyes.

"Yes- Yes." Crowley nodded and sat up, moving to the edge of the bed. Aziraphale moved onto the floor, on his knees. Slowly, he felt the plush, soft lips of his angel, touch the tip. Crowley gasped at the new sensation.

"Already gasping? I haven't even done anything." Aziraphale smugly remarked.
Crowley opened his mouth to say something, but whatever he was going to say died on his tongue. As he felt Aziraphale's mouth take him whole. He held onto Crowleys thigh for support as his golden curls bobbed up and down.

"Fuck-" Crowley leaned his head back, hand trailing to those lustrous golden curls.
"Aziraphale- I'm gonna.." Crowley squeezed his eyes shut.

////Aziraphale////

He tasted like nothing Aziraphale had ever tasted before. Most food was processed, recycled garbage made into something boring to sell in shops, but he was real. This was real. Aziraphale wanted more, so he was on his knees for his demon. But now, he wanted even more, so he had to starve off the demons finish for a little longer.

He pulled away, breathing in heavily through his nose.
"I need you.." Aziraphale swallowed and cleared his mind, "I need you to wait. Is that okay, my love? Can you wait a little longer, for me?" Crowley could only nod, and Aziraphale smiled to himself. "Good boy."

"Now.. Let's switch." Aziraphale got to his feet, straightened his waistcoat and shouldered off his jacket. Then he laid on the bed, legs spread. He had miracled his trousers off, to not cause any trouble with unbuttoning and all of it, it was all too much faff. He had also miracled his clothes, and Crowley's to be set aside on a chair, neatly in a pile.

Aziraphale was already hard, which was also new. He had never experienced any sexual tendencies, he wanted to kiss Crowley before, even held his hands a couple times, but he never expected anything sexual.
It was delightful.

Almost Heavenly.

Crowley, lay in between his legs, his chest still rising and falling in rapid motion. Sweat gleamed on his forehead.

Slowly Crowley took Aziraphale in his hand. Wrist shaking. "My love, take your time." Aziraphale held Crowley's cheek, smiling down at him. He stared up at Aziraphale desperately, took a shuddering breath, and slowly put his lips around the angel.

Aziraphale leaned back into the pillows, watching Crowley, as his hair fell gently in his face, Aziraphale reached out and moved the strands of red hair away.
"That's it.." Aziraphale sighed, feeling Crowley's warm mouth engulf him.

Crowley kept going, slowly he brought his hands up and started stroking while sucking. It was heaven. Much better than the real heaven.

"Yes- Ah~ Keep going my love." Aziraphale gasped in the air. He was shuddering, it was better than anything he had ever experienced. Better than reading books in a comfy chair while it rained, better than sushi. And it was all his.

He came with a jolt, hand gripping the bed spread. He groaned. "Yes~ Oh, you're so good Crowley."
"Please Aziraphale.." Crowley's stomach was patched white with pre-cum, he was red and throbbing.
"Oh you poor thing, let me help you."

Aziraphale took Crowley once more in his hand, but he moved painfully slow, he had a plan.

////Crowley////

The bastard. He let himself come, but now, in Crowley's time of need, he stroked him slow. The bastard. Crowley let out an annoyed huff, Aziraphale acted like he couldn't hear.

"Crowley, my dear, I have a question for you." Aziraphale's eyes were hooded by his curls.
"Anything." Crowley mustered.
"When I left, and you, as a demon, felt lust. Or felt.. what humans call 'horny' what did you do? Don't lie to me now, and say you were perfectly sensible, I know you, you old serpent." Aziraphale smirked and looked up at Crowley.

He breathed in sharply. "I um.."
"Yes?" Aziraphale spoke patiently, but the pumps of his wrist were getting slower by the second, and Crowley's need for release was getting more intense.

"I jerked off."
"Right, and did you think of me?"
"Yes! Of course!" Crowley was getting desperate now, his eyes closed tight.
"Will you show me?"
"What?" Crowley's eyes popped open, he stared at Aziraphale wide-eyed.
"You heard me." Aziraphale smiled, his wrist falling away from Crowley.

"..Okay.." Crowley slowly, pushed his legs out in front of him, looking down at himself, red and pulsing. He had wanked many times in Aziraphale's absence, but that was when Aziraphale was gone.. but now the angel sat, quite happily, in front of him. And Crowley was giving him a close and intimate show.

Crowley slowly took himself in his hand, and started to pump up and down, swiping a finger along the tip gently. He gritted his teeth and leaned his head back.

"Mh.. that's it." Aziraphale hummed approvingly. "Not too fast."
"Yes.." Crowley answered. He was sweating, he started thrusting into his hand. "Angel, I need to."
"Just keep going."
"I- I can't." He was clenching his jaw tightly, trying to starve off his orgasm.

"Very well.. You've done awfully well, I suppose." Aziraphale took Crowley's tie, tugging him forwards, as Aziraphale leaned in to the demons ear and whispered. "Do it for me."

Crowley's mind went blank as he came. He shouted out, and fell back on the bed.

"You did great, my dear." Aziraphale kissed his cheek. And all he could say, as he rolled onto his side sleepily, and Aziraphale let him lean his head into his chest, was:

"My angel."