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The first time Crowley met the angel of a man, he could only stare. Which was fine, really, since he was lucky enough to be wearing his glasses so nobody was able to tell.
The fact he also lost his ability to form words was slightly more difficult to hide, he supposed. Especially considering the fact that there was a very real possibility that if he opened his mouth, he was afraid he might drool all over his shirt like an infant.
The man, who was probably new here, judging by the fact Crowley had never seen him before (and he would have remembered him), beamed at him. Solidifying the new starter theory in Crowley's mind, because nobody smiled at him here. At least not in a way that could be associated with any positive emotions.
Crowley smiled too, more out of reflex than anything. Monkey see, monkey do, after all, and at this point he was just glad that his mental abilities were at a primate level.
"I am ever so sorry to bother you, are you Crowley?" the man asked, voice soft and hopeful.
Crowley nodded. He was pretty sure he would have admitted to being an aardvark if that pretty man was the one asking him.
The smile, somehow, got even brighter.
"Oh, perfect! My name is Aziraphale, Gabriel said that you might be able to help me?"
Had it been any normal, working-brain day, Crowley would have shuddered at the mere mention of that bastard's name. It was a true testament of how divorced from this plane of existence he currently was, that he simply nodded and gestured to the office chair next to him.
It also solved the mystery of which team the other man belonged to.
Finance.
The bane of Crowley's existence.
It was fine, though, he could find another one. Long existence ahead of him, he supposed. Long and hopefully, angel-filled. Marketing was pretty shit, what with their apparent need to change the software they used every few months. And Legal was always on his ass.
He'd figure something out. He was a smart man.
At least, he had thought so, this morning. Now, with Aziraphale sitting right next to him, he was less sure.
And, oh, the other man was holding a laptop. Had that always been there?
Well, it wasn't like he had allowed his eyes to wander, after seeing those gorgeous baby blue eyes and that pink mouth and those flushed cheeks. Not very good for his heart, he realised, looking at that man for too long. Especially when under that pretty face were broad shoulders, even broader chest. The most deliciously curved stomach and, Satan, those hips.
Aziraphale placed the laptop on the desk before them and scooted even closer. Crowley made a noise. He could only hope it was a dignified noise, but he wasn't holding his breath.
Nothing about the way he was acting was very dignified.
"Sure, yeah. What d'you need?" instead, he asked. His voice shook only slightly as he tried to focus on the laptop before him and not the gorgeous man, suddenly so close to him.
He wasn't sure if he was hoping for a simple request that would lead to the angel of a man leaving and being spared the brunt of Crowley's brainless behaviour. Or if it would be better if it was something complicated that would see Aziraphale having to visit him a few times in the upcoming days. The other man wouldn't have a choice, he would have to.
In the end, it was neither.
"I need a new arrow," Aziraphale said as if it was a perfectly reasonable thing to tell the head of the IT department.
Crowley blinked. "A what?"
Briefly, he worried if his brains really had fried from the intensity of that smile. What was he going to do with no brain? He would probably get fired.
Would Aziraphale want him if he ended up fired and possibly homeless? No, of course not, just look at him. With his pretty eyes and his soft smile, he could have anyone he wanted. What would he want from a man who was mishearing the most random bullshit while in his presence.
But, no, Aziraphale repeated his request. Tapped a finger against his cursor on the screen for good measure.
Oh! Well, yes, that made much more sense than Crowley having lost his mind because of how beautiful this man was. Only barely, though.
"You mean a new mouse?"
Even as he asked, Crowley bent down to unplug his own. There was no point going back to the storage cupboard to grab a brand new one just yet. And only because he was lazy. Certainly not because he didn't want to leave the other man alone. Above him, Aziraphale gave an indignant huff.
"I can assure you, I do not require any vermin. I simply need you to make the arrow move again."
How Crowley didn't fall from his chair laughing was only a testament to how many other ridiculous things he had heard from his coworkers. Even then, it was a very near thing. The laughter burst out of him, as if ripped out, and he doubled over, clutching at his stomach.
Which... still might have been the wrong reaction to have. Aziraphale blinked at him, rudy cheeks turning a vibrant colour, soft lips scrunching into a pout. Satan, Crowley wanted to bite him.
He quite liked his job though so he didn't. Well, he didn't like his job, but one could say that he liked not being homeless and labelled a deranged person. So that was that.
Pity, though. Aziraphale looked delicious.
"I'm sorry," Crowley hurried to say, hurried to shake his head. The smile was refusing to slide off his lips but only because the man before him truly was adorable and Crowley couldn't imagine not feeling that fluttering in his chest whenever he traced those soft features with his eyes. "Meant no harm, I promise. Here, let me try something first."
Aziraphale nudged his chair out of the way without a word and, oh, he was scowling now. Something like that looked so wrong on a face as if made to smile and Crowley panicked.
Unfortunately for him, when he panicked, he turned dumb. Worse than usual.
"Don't think I've seen you here before. Did you start recently?" he asked, eyes glued to the screen before him. Plugging a mouse took 5 seconds on average, but he was struggling with it as if he had never touched one of those in his life. It was fine, though. He suspected someone who had called it 'vermin' was unlikely to call him out on it.
Aziraphale nodded and pointedly refused to elaborate. That was fine, Crowley was used to filling in the silence while he worked.
"That's great. I mean, not great, not really. Hate numbers, myself, but I'd wager you don't. Why else would you work in Finance, right? Probably all good with numbers, you are. Look at you, beauty and brains. Deadly combination, 'round here. Gotta be careful. Not careful, per se, nobody is going to eat you-"
Crowley stopped to take a breath. Aziraphale blinked at him. So distracted by those stormy eyes, his brain beeped out of existence, long enough for his reflexes to kick in and his fingers to slide the mouse jack into the laptop port. The mouse connected with a happy sound. Fuck.
Even a luddite like Aziraphale would be able to tell there was nothing more to fuss over anymore. Crowley let go off the cable with a sigh.
Aziraphale had yet to say a single word to him. That, also, was fine, since Crowley was used to people staring at him like that, once he went off on his little tangents.
"Come now." He waved at the other man and Aziraphale obediently scooched over. "Let me show you how to control your vermin."
It took a few hours after that angel of a man had left his orbit and allowed his brain to go back to full capacity, for him to realise exactly what he had said.
Fuck, indeed.
It turned out Aziraphale was amazing at his job. It wasn't long before Crowley started hearing his name around the office. He had a head for numbers, it was said in the breakroom a few times.
Numbers apparently took a lot of space.
"Could you help me?" Aziraphale asked him a week later, laptop in hand, even as he was already taking a seat in what Crowley had started calling the angel's chair. Given the fact that Aziraphale had been sitting in it every day for the past one week.
"You do know it would be easier for you if you just sit next to me, right? It's not like you have to sit by your team. I certainly don't."
He hadn't even meant anything bad by it. He wasn't bothered by the other man's visits. If anything, it would have made him infinitely happier if he could secure more face and talk time with Aziraphale.
That wasn't how the angel took it, it seemed. His cheeks flushed again, his eyes darkening ever so slightly, as he reached back for his laptop. The one that he had already pushed between them and the simple routine of it, already, was enough to make Crowley's heart twinge a bit.
Before he had let himself overthink this, not one of his strong suits anyway, Crowley tugged the laptop closer to himself. Aziraphale's fingers closed around thin air.
"Let's see what we can do," Crowley said and watched as a smile tentatively bloomed on the other man's face.
And that was that. At least, that's what he thought.
Until he came to the office the next day to find an angel, sitting primly at the desk right next to his.
After that, it seemed natural for Crowley to decide it was time for him to try. Shoot his shot, right? No time like the present, right?
He started with something small, first, something that could still be laughed off.
And something that won't end with him sitting in HR's office, begging for his job back. At least, he hoped so.
Crowley placed the cup of tea, 2 sugars, a dash of oat milk, just like how he had seen Aziraphale make for himself a few times now, on the angel's desk. Waited for said angel to turn his bright blue eyes to him, blink, first in wonder and then in gratitude, as his smile brightened.
"Thank you, Crowley," Aziraphale whispered, soft fingers cradling the mug as if it was something precious.
Crowley made a noise. It wasn't the optimal noise and it certainly wasn't the one he had meant to make, yet, it still came out of his mouth. He had stopped questioning it some time ago.
All he could do was wait the required few seconds for his brain to reboot, before he got on with his plan.
"Listen, I wanted to ask-" This was good, nonchalance was good. That was how you charmed the pants off your gorgeous coworker. Or so he had been told. "About the last company you worked for?"
Aziraphale made a noise. No, that wasn't right. Aziraphale moaned into his tea and Crowley preemptively shut off his brain before the surge of unholy thoughts did too much damage.
He also made himself take a sip of his coffee, no sugar, no milk, just to cover up the fact he was unable to make any coherent noises for a few seconds.
"Wanted to ask if you used to work in Heaven. Cause you are an angel."
Realistically, it was a bad pickup line. It was corny and stupid. It barely made any sense. It still compelled his affection-addled brain.
Aziraphale stared at him over the rim of his mug. Silence stretched between them. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds, and yet, it almost felt like six millennia.
The angel shook his head.
"Haven't heard of that company, I'm afraid."
And then took a sip from his tea, made another one of those noises that did lethal damage to every one of Crowley's braincells, before calmly telling him about his last job.
As if Crowley hadn't just tried to flirt with him.
It probably meant that Crowley should give up. Aziraphale had probably just tried to let him down gently.
Except, well. Except Crowley had now spent a month sitting next to him and he had seen how deftly the angel dealt with people that bothered him.
Someone else, less educated in the ways of the angel, would have called his methods passive-aggressive. But there was nothing passive nor aggressive about the way Aziraphale smiled at the people in his team, soft and gentle, as he explained their errors. There was nothing aggressive about the ways he spoke to Sales when they came to him with unusual demands.
Satan, but not only was he gorgeous, but he was kind. And he was helpful. And yet, he was a right bastard sometimes. Which delighted Crowley more than it probably ought to.
So, of course, he tried again. How could he not?
"Are you a Wi-Fi signal? Because I'm feeling a strong connection here," Crowley said one day, in lieu of a greeting as he made his way to their side of the office. Half an hour late but holding a coffee for himself and a raspberry croissant for the angel.
Admittedly, he had googled that line. But he still found it funny, especially considering the fact he worked in IT.
Aziraphale seemed too preoccupied with melting all of his braincells with the beam of his smile, upon having seen the pastry placed before him, to respond. That was fine, since Crowley had gotten used to taking a backseat to all the treats he seemed unable to stop showering the other man with.
It didn't bother him one bit.
It did bother him how quickly he had managed to learn to operate on only 50% of brain power, though.
"Oh, really?" Aziraphale finally replied and Crowley braced himself for an answer to his flirting. This was the moment. What he had been waiting for. Make or break, as they said.
"My signal has been spotty at best today. Would you be able to take a look, my dear?"
And, Crowley, he blamed his professional pride and his near-constant desire to help Aziraphale, only registered the term of endearment once he was done with checking the other man's connection. Which was for the best, he thought, since he was pretty sure he might have crashed the whole network if the realisation had come any earlier.
But that meant he had a chance, didn't it? Surely, nobody went around calling their coworkers 'my dear' for no reason.
True, they had become friends. It was very hard not to, spending 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, sitting side by side. Especially with someone as brilliantly smart as Aziraphale.
So Crowley googled more pickup lines. And hoped for the best.
"Angel, if you were words on a page, you’d be fine print,” he said one day, while Aziraphale squinted at his tiny spreadsheet. He had shown him how to zoom in a number of times and yet, the angel insisted he liked this better since he could, and this was a quote, "See all the numbers together."
What a weird man. Crowley was starting to adore him.
"Frustrating and designed to deceive?" Aziraphale responded absentmindedly. His fingers had not stopped tapping on his calculator.
Crowley found it unfairly hot. Both the words and the nonchalance with which they had been uttered.
He laughed. Then went to make the angel some tea because he hadn't had any all day.
They were in the breakroom.
Crowley did not want to be in the breakroom.
He had so much to do. Someone from Legal had clicked on a phishing link so he needed to do a sweep of the system and see if any information had been leaked. Marketing was unhappy with their software, again, and were trying to get him to switch them to the previous one, again. Gabriel from Finance had told him their software was crashing more than usual, which, of course, had nothing to do with the fact all the accountants were trying to load more than 10 spreadsheets at the same time, each, because that was 'inevitable' and 'part of their job'.
He was frustrated and antsy and he did not feel like eating.
And yet, the moment it had been time for their break, Aziraphale had wrapped a warm palm around his shoulder and had ushered him up. And then he had linked their arms together and dragged him to the breakroom, where he had deposited Crowley at their regular table and went to heat up their lunches. And Crowley, too dazed by all that physical contact, had let himself be led like a toddler, too warm and squishy inside to do anything but lightly grumble.
And then Aziraphale was back with their lunches and that in itself was a miracle because before Aziraphale had started working here, Crowley hadn't even bothered with food. It had taken a week of the angel sharing his own food with him, despite his many protests, for Crowley to start bringing his own.
He still maintained he only did it so the angel didn't starve.
Eating regularly did make him feel better. Not that he was ever going to admit to that.
“Are you a magician? Because when I look into your eyes, you make everything else disappear,” Crowley said, as he tugged his expertly warmed lunch towards himself.
As far as corny flirting went, it was the truth. It had taken only a minute with Aziraphale's warm gaze on his own, that soft smile shining next to him, for all his frustrations to melt away. Nothing else mattered. Nothing but the angel next to him.
Aziraphale, as he was wont to, took his pickup line literally. Which was to say, he took out a deck of cards out of his jacket while proclaiming that, yes, in fact, he dabbled in magic.
An hour worth of grumbling and threats of making 'Aziraphale disappear' later, they went back to work. And somehow, Crowley found it so much easier to deal with all the issues piled on him.
It was strange.
Crowley could tell that the other man was frustrated. Angry, even, if one didn't know any better.
Aziraphale had barely spent any time at their desks today, instead having to go back and forth between Sales and his own department. At one point, Crowley was pretty sure he had even heard him raise his voice at Gabriel. Which had been as amazing as it had been terrifying. Also? Very hot.
He snuck out on one of their breaks once it became apparent that it was one of those days when the angel would not be able to sit down and have a proper break. Going to the nearby Tesco and getting all sorts of little treats he knew the other man would like, was even easier.
Actually forcing Aziraphale to sit down at his desk, so he could enjoy them, proved to be a problem.
He tried luring Aziraphale with sweets like he was one of those strangers his mother should have warned him about. That managed to get the angel to stop moving enough to take a bite out of his scone, give Crowley a distracted smile and a squeeze to the shoulder that still managed to make his cheeks burst aflame, before wandering away to scream at Gabriel some more.
Crowley tried asking him to stay, which did not work at all. But the hand slid further up now, fingers dancing over the tender skin of his neck, even as Aziraphale apologised for being too busy and Crowley tried to focus on not doing anything inappropriate for work. Or purring, which would have been fine, he supposed, in a work setting. But still deeply embarrassing.
Finally, he had had enough. The next time Aziraphale came to their desks, huffy and flushed red, Crowley tugged him down into his chair and turned him towards himself.
"I know you keep stealing my breath away, but I didn't know I did the same to you," he teased, voice surprisingly steady for the way his heart was beating from their proximity. "Breathe, angel"
Aziraphale opened his mouth to argue, but Crowley curled his hands over his and demonstratively took in a deep breath. The angel hesitated for a moment before following suit.
They held their breaths, as one, looking at each other. Crowley had never been more in love.
The thought hit him like one of those old time computers to the head. His breath was shaky as it left his lungs.
It had been coming for a while now, he supposed, as he took in another breath and watched as the angel did the same, with minimal fussing. Crowley could feel the tension bleed out of them both.
He liked it. He liked being connected like this.
"Thank you, darling," Aziraphale whispered after a few minutes of this, once his chest had stopped quivering in anger and his cheeks had gone back to their normal, rosy quality.
Then he extracted one of his hands from their embrace and opened his laptop.
The other one stayed clasped around Crowley's for the rest of the day.
Aziraphale had somehow coaxed him into spending their lunch break in the nearby park.
Crowley didn't like it. It was breezy and yet, somehow, the sun was shining in his eyes. There were way too many people around them, enjoying the unusually warm weather. He also had to hold his lunch box with one hand and his fork with the other.
Which left no hands to hold Aziraphale's with, which really was a shame. And unfairly frustrating.
He still hummed thoughtfully as Aziraphale told him about the book he was currently reading and then, in turn, told him about the TV show he was watching, once the angel asked him.
Aziraphale beamed at him, that beatific smile Crowley knew each and every dip of, and something in his heart stuttered. He would have told himself he needed to go to the doctor, but he knew what the only cure for his heart murmurs would be. And, frankly, he would rather die than give up the angel's presence.
“Did the sun come out or did you just smile at me?” he asked, his own smile shining on his face.
Twin suns, he supposed, and for once didn't mind the heat one bit.
Aziraphale's cute nose scrunched, as he looked around.
"It is a bit bright, isn't it? Would you like us to move?"
The question, as adorable as it was sincere, made Crowley feel all soft inside. So did the way Aziraphale had phrased it. 'Us'. It was always 'us' now, always 'ours' and 'we'.
It was soothing, spending time with the other man, just enjoying his presence. It felt almost unbelievable how quickly he had gotten used to it all. Aziraphale's warmth and his touch and his sweet smile and his bastard streak.
Crowley had realised, a few weeks ago now, that... He was looking forward to Monday, just so he could see the angel again. Counting the days until the weekend ended so he could drown in those blue eyes and feel the heat of that brilliant smile. An actual blasphemy in his world, and yet, as natural as the budding spring around them.
Crowley shook his head, let go of his fork so he could wrap a hand around Aziraphale's elbow. Felt his heart skip another beat as Aziraphale abandoned his own utensil so he could lace their fingers together.
"Do you want to go out this weekend?" Crowley asked, emboldened by the touch and his own thoughts. Desperate to spend even a minute more with the angel.
Aziraphale's smile really did resemble the sun coming out from behind the clouds as he nodded.
They went to the movies.
They had been friends for long enough for Crowley to know which one Aziraphale would enjoy. It didn't stop him from insinuating that he was bringing the other man to a gory horror that the angel would detest. A lie he kept up until they made their way to the screening room and Aziraphale could see the title of the movie flashing above them.
It also didn't escape his notice that, despite his teasing, Aziraphale still followed him without a complaint to what he believed was a horror movie.
They held hands during the movie. They held hands on the walk towards the restaurant Crowley had picked.
They even held hands over the table, while they chatted about the plot and the characters and the plot holes Crowley couldn't help but point out. It led to a minor argument, but one exchanged in low voices and in between grinning lips, so Crowley wasn't too worried. He never was, these days. Not with the angel around him.
Aziraphale fed him from his plate, despite Crowley's grumbling. Made noises that still somehow managed to make the other man's knees weak. Smiled brightly at the waiter, who had messed up their wine order, while still managing to sound like such a snob when he pointed out the wine they had been served was the '76 one and not the '74 and one could tell from the fact it was a lot more bitter than it was supposed to.
Crowley wanted to kiss him. So badly. Wanted to crawl all over the table and kiss that sweet pout right off his lips.
Instead, he contented himself with a squeeze of their interlocked hands and a wide smile, once Aziraphale turned curious eyes towards him. The sunshine beam he got in return, still felt like a heatwave inside his ribcage.
Pleasantly full of amazing food and shared giggles, they decided to take another walk in the park. Hand in hand, as it was turning to be their custom now. Smiling at each other, talking about nothing and everything.
“You’re so beautiful that you made me forget my pickup line,” Crowley said suddenly.
It was the truth, he had googled another pickup line just for this occasion. But, he realised, this too could be construed as flirting. Not that he was very much holding his breath, considering Aziraphale's track record of ignoring Crowley's pickup lines.
Yet, the angel continued to surprise him. The other man blinked at him, a confused sort of look twisting his features.
"What do you mean, a pickup line?"
It was the first time Aziraphale had even acknowledged that he was being flirted with, and it made Crowley pause. It also made him stop in place, which in turn made the other man stop right beside him, hands still linked together.
Crowley wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but he was never one to ignore a question, so he explained, "A pickup line is something you say when you want to show you are interested-"
Aziraphale waved their joined hands between them impatiently.
"I know what a pickup line is, my dear. What do you mean you forgot yours?"
He almost sounded frustrated and Crowley could only blink at him. Be it from the prolonged physical contact with Aziraphale that still seemed to make his brain run for its life, or the amount of wine they had had (a glass each, but he found it a lot less humiliating reason for how slowly he was reacting). Trust the angel to focus on that part and not the compliment.
"Well, I. Um. You see, I-" Had Aziraphale truly not realised he was being flirted with? Was that what was happening? But then how come Crowley had managed to secure a date with him?
Oh, no. Was this not a date? Were they just going to the movies and holding hands and sharing their food, as friends?
Fuck.
"I have been flirting with you," Crowley said, cheeks blazing. The quicker this was over, the quicker he could go home and start looking for a new job and ways to relocate to somewhere in the Sahara desert. "For a while now."
Aziraphale let go of his hand. Oh. Well. Crowley had expected it. It still managed to sting like a knife through the heart.
"You mean all those weird things you have been saying?" Aziraphale's voice was high-pitched and bewildered. Crowley squeezed his eyes shut, even as he nodded.
"Sorry," he said, even though he wasn't. Not really sorry.
Maybe a little bit that he hadn't stopped, once he had noticed that Aziraphale wasn't responding in kind. But then again, things had been going so well. They were so close, they were spending every minute in each other's presence. They always had so much fun when they were together. Aziraphale kept calling him all these soft pet names and they were holding hands, for Someone's sake.
Had been holding hands, he reminded himself.
"I'm just gonna-" He hooked a thumb over his shoulder, unsure if he was pointing in the right direction, what with having his eyes still firmly shut. Yet, not caring one bit. He just needed to get out of here. "Yeah."
Soft hands pressed on either side of his face and he froze. He wasn't being held in place, there was no force behind the touch. And yet, he couldn't bear the thought of moving, if it meant making that touch disappear.
"Open your eyes for me, darling, please?"
And Aziraphale's voice was so gentle, so soothing, yet authoritative, that Crowley felt himself blink his eyes open almost immediately. Really wished that he hadn't.
Because the angel of a man was looking at him, something so reverent softening his gaze. Crowley didn't think he would ever be able to forget it.
The hands on his cheeks moved, slid down so they were a comforting weight around his shoulders.
"I have been flirting with you. For a while now," the other man confessed and Crowley would have thought he had imagined those words if he hadn't seen his mouth open, pink lips move.
They blinked at each other. Aziraphale looked just as confused as Crowley was feeling. Slowly, as if expecting to be shooed away, Crowley raised his hands to wrap around the other man's waist.
If anything, Aziraphale leant into the touch. That didn't make it any easier for Crowley to hold onto his last remaining brave braincells.
"Since when?"
The other man's cheeks flushed even brighter. Not for the first or the last time, Crowley wished that he could take a bite out of them. Then he realised, he was surprisingly close to getting that wish granted.
"Well, I suppose- One could say-" Aziraphale hesitated, eyes drifting to the side before coming back to Crowley's, dark with resolution. His voice was firm, but gentle, when he said, "Since the very beginning. Perhaps, the day after, actually."
They stared at each other some more. Crowley wasn't entirely certain he could say anything. As in, he wasn't sure he had any control over his vocal cords or his brain, to make them do anything more than emit a frankly embarrassing high-pitched noise. One that he was thankfully containing in the cage of his mouth. But for how long?
He made a questioning noise. Aziraphale tilted his head, his eyebrows drawn together in baffled wonder.
"Surely, you didn't think that a brand new laptop could break every single day, did you?"
Well. Okay. In Crowley's defence? He hadn't really thought anything! There had been a pretty angel, at his desk, every day for a week, and if he pretended there was something wrong with his laptop, Crowley could get the man to spend some time with him. His brain hadn't really spent more time dwelling on the circumstances surrounding that.
He shook his head, but the confusion must have been written on his face way before that, because Aziraphale's eyes were softening even further.
"Did you see all of our interactions as us being friendly, my darling? The touches, the time spent together? You call me angel, dear."
It didn't feel like Aziraphale was mocking him, though, so Crowley nodded, slowly. The hands on his shoulders slid down further to curl around his elbows, until it almost looked like they were embracing. Felt like it, too.
And, yeah, put like that, it did feel like Crowley had been slightly oblivious. He had a very good excuse though.
"Not my fault," he mumbled, trying to ignore the sulky undertones of his voice. "Distracting, you are, with your curls and your smiles. And being this adorable. How am I supposed to think 'round you?"
Aziraphale didn't respond. Didn't have to. He leant closer, smiling mouth falling open ever so slightly and suddenly, Crowley's rant didn't matter one bit.
He let his body tip forward, into the warm embrace of the other man. Nodded again, quick and eager, following the rhythm of his thundering heart.
Aziraphale kissed him. Or he kissed Aziraphale.
A kiss was shared. Soft and gentle, they moved as one, twin moans pressed against equally ravenous lips. Their bodies sunk into an embrace, hands tightening around the other's body.
It was strange, but it was that kiss that made Crowley remember the pickup line from before. The kiss that both melted his brain but also finally managed to jump-start it.
“They say nothing lasts forever," he said, once they separated and Aziraphale stared at him, pink-cheeked and wonderful. "So would you be my nothing?”
And finally, finally, Crowley received a response to his flirting. It might have taken a few months, so much time and touch and tenderness shared between them, not to mention a date, but he finally had his answer.
Aziraphale laughed at him. Tipped his head back, throat vulnerable and so bare Crowley had the sudden urge to bury his teeth into it. And laughed and laughed and laughed.
Crowley couldn't even find it in himself to care, the picture before him so lovely that all he could do was smile and cradle that body close to his chest.
It took a minute for the other man to stop trembling in amusement and then Crowley was the one being tugged closer, enveloped by strong arms and pressed against plush softness. A kiss was pressed to his lips, his cheeks, his chin. Everywhere the angel could reach was blessed by that gentle mouth.
Aziraphale's voice was infinitely soft as he said, "I'd rather be your everything, my darling. If it's all the same to you."
And who was Crowley, really, to say no to that.