Chapter Text
“Crowley.” The older man repeated again. “Did I – are you still hurt over the thoughtless comment I made?”
He winced. “Doesn’t just go away, angel.” He said hoarsely.
“W-Well, no, but… oh, my dear, I do apologise. I thought, with how good things have been, that you… I suppose that was perhaps a little naïve of me. Tell me, my dear, how can I make it better?” He asked, his gorgeous blue eyes wide open, eager.
Crowley wanted to kiss him – or to go home.
“What am I to you, angel?”
“Ah… pardon?” Aziraphale asked, his voice a little strangled.
Crowley said nothing – he’d asked his question – the real question, finally.
“Oh.” Aziraphale said, his voice a little off. When Crowley met his eyes, to his surprise, they were a little… wet? He leaned up on the couch.
“Angel?” Crowley asked, confused as anything as to why the other man might be near tears.
“No, I do apologise, my dear. I was only – well, I suppose, it was a little foolish of me to think that… I’m willing to accept whatever, ah, sort of relationship you think you would like to have.”
“What do you want, angel?” Crowley asked – he could give his own answer, sure, but Aziraphale had already made it clear that wasn’t an option, wasn’t on offer. Fuck his life and his stupid heart.
“W-Well, I should think I’ve made that rather obvious, by now. Oh, but don’t think I can’t take a no, my dear boy. Of course I can. I would just – well, I’m happy to continue as we have, if you like, but I can’t stand – I won’t accept money.”
Something… shifted.
Something in the way he looked at Aziraphale, the way he saw his angel, shifted about 30cm to the right, and it took him a moment to work out what – and why.
He rolled, nearly falling off the couch and catching himself with a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Why? Why won’t you take my money?” He asked hoarsely.
Aziraphale wouldn’t quite look at him. “You know why.”
“No.” He countered immediately. “Angel, I do not.” He wanted to stop there – he really did. His mouth didn’t get the memo. “Please.” He whispered, the grip he had on the other man’s shoulder tightening past the point of comfort.
“W-Well, I’ve… grown rather fond of you, my dear. Obviously. However, ah, unprofessional that may be of me… I do apologise. I hope it doesn’t make you uncomffff!”
Crowley cut him off, slamming himself forwards and into the other man. It should have been a kiss – might have been a kiss, had he approached it differently. Alas, he did not – he threw himself off the couch, against the other man, bodily colliding with him – including their faces. His nose smashed into the angel’s cheek, their teeth clicked together and might have bruised his lip – Crowley wasn’t sure.
Crowley didn’t care.
What he cared about was scrambling until he was pressing the older man flat to the ground, all four limbs trapped and fixed in place underneath him and oh, Crowley liked that view. What he liked more, however, was kissing the other man, properly this time.
He was rougher than usual, his lips demanding rather than asking, taking rather than sharing. Aziraphale made a noise in the back of his throat, but he wasn’t exactly pushing him off or fighting – in fact, he was kissing back. Not like Crowley was kissing him, but he was certainly kissing him back.
He broke the kiss, suddenly entirely out of air, and stared down at the other man. Blue eyes were wide with shock, confusion, and an obvious lack of understanding.
He swallowed thickly, wondering how to explain – how to verbalise the tangled knot of feelings, regrets, hopes and fears within him.
“I have been in love with you since I ate you out.” He blurted out, only for both of them to freeze. Him, because of the utter nonsense that had just come out of his mouth – Aziraphale, presumably, for a similar reason.
The other man squirmed. “At the, ah, Much Ado?” He asked slowly.
Crowley blinked, tried to make sense of it, then shook his head. “First, erm, first time? The suite?”
He hadn’t thought it possible for the other man’s eyes to widen any further, but they did – Crowley felt himself flush.
Aziraphale cleared his throat and squirmed, still pinned under Crowley. He should probably let him go, but… “Ah, it’s been – I believe, since the first time I called you darling. That isn’t – I do not – I don’t use that term. For… for others.”
Crowley remembered precisely when the first time Aziraphale had called him that had been. It was his turn to clear his throat. “You said that, erm, after… the first time I ate you out?” He checked. It wasn’t a question – or at least not one he didn’t know the answer of.
His angel flushed and, best as he could in his position, shrugged. “So it might have been. I wasn’t, ah, quite aware of it until a little while later. I’m a bit… slow, with such things. But, the point stands, my dear, my darling, that I’m… rather in love with you. It isn’t just sex.”
Crowley let his eyes fall shut and leaned down, not for a kiss but to rest his forehead against the other man’s. “First time we met, before we slept together, I remember thinking that I wanted – that I wanted it to be real. A real date. Shit, I’ve been a mess over you. Kept track of how many hours had passed since last time I saw you.”
Aziraphale giggled – and nearly effortlessly freed his wrists so he could wrap them around Crowley’s neck. He probably shouldn’t find that a turn-on, but he definitely did. “So we’ve both been, ah, wanting… more?”
“Angel. Angel. I want everything. I thought – I thought you didn’t want…”
His angel pulled him down into a kiss, a sweet, chaste thing of a kiss before letting him up again. “I didn’t. Not with anyone who isn’t… you. I feared – well, there is an assortment of anxieties and worries, all of them we will no doubt get around to discussing. Perhaps… later?” He asked, rubbing a hand across Crowley’s chest.
He shuddered and laughed softly. “Angel… never thought I’d say this, but… talk first? I don’t – I want to – please. I need to hear. I need you to explain, and…”
Aziraphale made a soft sound, brushing his fingers over Crowley’s cheekbones. “Oh, my dear… yes, I suppose that would be best. I apologise. I simply find this rather… interesting?” The other man gave him a smug look.
Crowley chuckled. “Me too, but angel… I’ve spent months pining. Thinking I didn’t have a chance. I need…” He trailed off with a sigh.
“I understand, my dear. Truly. I dare say, I could do with a conversation as well. Would you, ah, like to have said conversation sitting on the couch, perhaps?”
He hastily scrambled off the other man, suddenly overly aware of his gangly limbs and unsure where to put them as he gave the angel a hand up. They sat down, next to each other, suddenly both too awkward to speak – at least until Aziraphale stood again with a tut.
“Goodness, but we’re being silly. I’m making us tea.” He said decisively, before walking off to his kitchen.
Crowley followed him like a lost puppy, and wrapped his arms around the older man as he handled the kettle and teacups. “Angel.” He muttered gently. “My angel.”
“If you’d like.” Aziraphale answered quietly.
“I would – fuck, I’ve never? I don’t just like, I want, I need. ‘m arse over teakettle for you.” He admitted. It was easier, like this, his chin resting on the other man’s shoulder.
“Oh, darling… I wish I’d known. I assumed that while yes, you obviously enjoyed our carnal relations, you wouldn’t find me of much interest.”
For all that it was nonsense, Crowley could hear the ‘nobody else has’ he was all but screaming into the room. He tightened his grip. “You’re brilliant. You’re clever, fussy, a right bastard, god, I can’t – I can barely spell my own name when you smile.” He blurted out, only to cringe – he had not meant to say the last part out loud.
Well then… He sighed. Aziraphale wriggled in his grasp and turned around. His expression was fairly blank for several moments as they looked at each other – then Aziraphale beamed up at him. Crowley whimpered.
“You bastard.” He said after several seconds, laughing. Aziraphale’s smile only brightened more, and turned into something equally smug and beautiful. Crowley couldn’t not kiss him.
The whistle of the kettle interrupted their otherwise unhurried kiss.
Aziraphale sighed and moved away, finishing their teacups – and then abandoning them on the counter in favour of a lose embrace.
“I worry that my novelty will wear off. You are prone to boredom.” Aziraphale said after a soft sigh.
Crowley snorted. “What I’m prone to is being too much, too attentive, too there, too all the time.” He said – because that had, in effect, been the issue in all his previous relationships.
“I’ve never found you too much, my dear. If anything, I found myself wanting more. I suppose – our… issues might just be complimentary. I don’t like feeling neglected or ignored.”
“Angel, I don’t think I could.” He admitted. “But you’ll get tired of it.”
Fingers brushed his forehead, combed through his hair – Crowley realised he’d closed his eyes at some point.
“No, no I don’t think so.” He said softly. “You are – at the risk of sounding dramatic, your too much might just be my enough.”
Crowley whined, unable to believe him, unable not to believe him.
This was…
“I want you. All of you.” He whispered. “Soft, fussy, bastard of an angel, I’m so in love with you.”
Aziraphale groaned, stepped closer – pressed their bodies together as much as possible. More, apparently, than he’d thought was possible. His angel was hard. Crowley shuddered with want.
“More talking later?” He suggested.
“Certainly, my dear boy. Bedroom’s this way.” The other man said breathlessly, tugging him in the right direction.
Crowley hit the bed, already naked, moaning as Aziraphale leaned over him, equally bare. They’d both managed to strip on the way over to the bed somehow, and now Crowley got to feel the other man’s naked skin against his own – the man he loved.
He rolled them both, pressing his angel – his angel – into the bed, though he was now aware how much stronger the other man was.
“Tell me.” He demanded, uncaring that he wasn’t really making that much sense – that the other man might not understand. He needed to hear.
Aziraphale laughed, breathlessly, and arched up into him. “I’m dreadfully in love with you, my darling.”
Crowley murmured his own confession into their kiss, greedily swallowed up by the other man. Something happened – he wasn’t sure how or what – and they ended up the other way around, Aziraphale straddling his waist and rubbing himself back against Crowley’s cock.
“Gonna ride me?” He asked eagerly.
“Oh, quite.” Aziraphale agreed. He’d somehow managed to pull lube out from somewhere, and wasted no time at all before he started fingering himself open. “I wanted – ah, I meant it when I… when I asked you to make love to me. I thought – well I thought I’d shown my hand, then.” Aziraphale said.
Crowley was impressed – he wasn’t sure he was coherent enough to talk, and he was just watching. He tried to scrape together enough braincells to reply properly and moaned softly. “I was confused. It was lovely, it was what I wanted, but I thought you, hrng, you couldn’t have meant it like that. Didn’t want me like that.”
“Oh but I did – I do.” Aziraphale said, his eyes fluttering shut as he twisted his wrist just so. Crowley nearly choked on his own tongue, desperate to see more, see everything, to have the other man.
“But… not now, right?” He asked, his own hands massaging at soft hips.
“Oh, no.” Aziraphale agreed. “Now I’m going to ride you until neither of us can spell our names anymore, my dear.”
“Fuck, don’t know if I can last.” He admitted, the matter-of-fact tone a little more than he’d been prepared for.
“Oh, you will, won’t you, darling? For me?” The bastard above him asked, just as he positioned himself over Crowley’s cock.
Dazed, in awe, and really fucking desperate, Crowley nodded.
He would – he could. For the angel, he’d have to.
Aziraphale sat down with a soft laugh, taking him down to the root in one deliriously quick motion. The older man threw his head back and made a noise of appreciation, wriggling slightly, before lifting himself up, meeting Crowley’s eyes, winking, and… and good lord, the other man was trying to kill him.
Crowley cried out, hands on the other man’s hips to keep himself steady as Aziraphale started riding him, hard and fast, and with no warning at all. Despite his decision to make it good for Aziraphale, to last, he knew he wouldn’t be able to – it was too much, too fast, too good.
He wrapped a hand around his partner’s cock, jerking him off with the same urgency he felt boiling in his own blood. “Close?” He asked, more than a bit hopeful – desperate, even.
“Q-Quite. Ah, I’ve been a bit… riled up.” Aziraphale said, groaning as he ground his hips down harder.
“Good. Fuck. Want you to come for me, angel, love, please.” Crowley whined, snapping his hips up to meet his partner, drawing the loveliest sounds from him – and then, just as Crowley thought he couldn’t take it anymore, Aziraphale came, sagging hard onto him. It didn’t matter – the clench of his partner around him was enough to drive him over the edge too. He came with a quiet sob, riding his pleasure out at the same time as his angel.
By the time Aziraphale let himself fall into bed next to him, Crowley was most of the way to sleep.
He woke up overly warm but extremely comfortable – and for once, he didn’t have to think to work out why he was so comfortable. His head was pillowed on a soft chest, rising and falling with each breath, his legs entwined with Aziraphale’s.
He grinned and turned his face into the other man’s body, rubbing against him like a cat, just because he could.
“Good morning, darling.” Aziraphale said dryly – Crowley froze.
He had… assumed the other man was asleep. Raising his head to look, he found that his partner clearly knew this – his smile was more than a bit smug.
Groaning, Crowley pressed his face against the soft, warm skin before him again. “Morning.”
Fingers combed through his hair. “Did you sleep well?"
“Yeah, sure did. Erm… sorry…?”
“Oh don’t be. I rather enjoyed this.”
“This?”
“Reading while you sleep.”
“You wore me out.” He grumbled.
“Even though I’m the one who did all the work?” Aziraphale asked haughtily.
Crowley snorted and squirmed his way up until his face was level with his partner’s throat. He pressed a biting kiss there, licking at a sensitive spot until Aziraphale groaned.
“Pillow princess.” He accused. “I’m sure I’ll have you on your back, telling me how to get you off soon enough.” He teased without any malice – they both liked it precisely like that.
Aziraphale moaned. “In… in about five minutes if you don’t stop that, you fiend.”
Crowley stopped, and waited for Aziraphale to look at him. “I love you.” He offered, trying to put all the gravity of what that meant to him into his words.
His angel smiled. “As do I. I must say… a lot of the things I wanted to discuss with you – the things I was afraid of…”
He sighed. “They seem less scary now, don’t they?” He checked. “’s hard to be afraid like this.”
“Quite.” Aziraphale agreed. “Though I have a few things to say to you, still.”
“Go on.” He said, pretending those words weren’t sending a wave of anxiety through him.
“I haven’t – well, that is to say, I quit my other… clients. Very quickly after I met you. Gabriel is – was the last one I saw, still, and then only once after we… began.” Aziraphale said awkwardly. “I would very much like – if that is amenable to you – that is to say, I prefer monogamy to other… options?”
Crowley stared, wide-eyed, at the other man. “You… really?”
“If you prefer to, ah, keep your options open…”
“Fuck no.” He blurted out. “I’ve been basically picking colour schemes for our wedding since you rolled your eyes at me in the Ritz.” He blurted out – only to then groan in embarrassment. “Okay, the less lame version of what I just said would be, erm, I wouldn’t have asked you to stop, since it’s… well, your job, sort of, but I won’t pretend I’m not happier this way. And yes, monogamy. Definitely.” He agreed, before lowering his head to stew in his idiocy.
Aziraphale sighed, and ran his hands through Crowley’s hair again. “I adore your utter inability to edit your thoughts sometimes, Crowley.”
“Yeah, well, ‘m going too fast, aren’t I?” He asked mopingly.
The other man giggled. “No, I don’t think so. But you can lay to rest any thoughts about wedding colour schemes, my dear boy.” Aziraphale said decisively.
Crowley winced. “No, yeah, of course, I wasn’t serious, about that, it was just, erm, an example. Yes, an example of… things. Ngk. And…”
A finger pressed to his lips. “Blue, white, and cream.” Aziraphale said decisively. “And I will hear no argument on the matter.”