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Another failed date.
Aziraphale was really beginning to feel like he was destined to be forever alone. This date had walked out on him--without even paying their half of the bill!--for the same reason as the rest.
Aziraphale didn't get heats.
The Omega had seen every professional London and beyond could provide. He had seen doctors, "all your tests have come back normal, there's nothing physically wrong with you, try a therapist"; therapists, "it's not in your head, I can't help you, try a priest"; priests, "you are being possessed by a demon, it must be exorcised from you"; and sex workers, "no amount of sucking that dick is going to get you slick. Try a priest.” (See previous.) Oh, he could get hard, and he could orgasm well enough, but his hole remained drier than the Sahara desert, and his body temperature remained at a cool thirty-seven degrees C.
And yet he was definitely an Omega. He smelled like an Omega, and he had all the bits of an Omega; they just didn't function correctly.
Aziraphale had thought it would be different with this date, as they were a Beta, but all his dates reacted the same, and Aziraphale was left loveless and out of pocket for a coffee and pastry he didn't even get to eat. He alighted the bus on his way back to the bookshop and was furiously texting Anathema on the infernal device she insisted he have to message her details of his romantic failures--and she absolutely would not pick up the phone if he rang instead, citing " phones scare me "--when he collided head first with a redheaded man whose vision was obscured by a tall green plant he seemed to be talking to.
The Omega fell to the floor. The redhead fell to the floor. The plant's pot smashed.
Aziraphale quickly stood up, brushing soil from his favourite pair of tan slacks, offering his hand to the poor man he'd just barrelled into. "Oh dear, I am so sorry, I should have been looking where I was going. I'm sorry, mister…?"
The man didn't answer. He was dressed in black from head to toe, skinny jeans and a henley clinging to his lithe form, his shoulder length red hair tied back into a half bun. He was frantically readjusting sunglasses to cover a set of honey golden eyes Aziraphale had caught a glimpse of during their tussle.
Aziraphale, still with his hand outstretched, looked down at the mess of terracotta, soil, and a very sorry for itself fiddle-leaf fig. "I'm very sorry about your plant. I've got a pot I once tried to grow something in--oh, a while back now--that I've still got under my kitchen sink. If you want, you could come into my bookshop with me and retrieve it-?"
Aziraphale's voice went up as the man finally took his hand - a sensation like a bolt of electricity shooting up his arm and into his core, igniting something within him, causing him to pull the redhead towards him, and suddenly-
They were kissing.
Aziraphale was kissing a complete stranger.
It took all his willpower to push the man away, both of them panting to catch their breaths.
"I'm… ever so sorry about that. Don't know what came over me," Aziraphale apologised profusely.
The man made some nonsensical noises, seemingly as affected as Aziraphale, before asking, "Do you kiss every person whose plant you've smashed?"
Aziraphale was still gripping the man's shoulders, holding him away at arms length, the man doing the same to him, as if, if either were to move even a single inch, they would collide back together through sheer magnetism. Aziraphale's pulse quickened, and despite only drinking tea this morning, he was beginning to feel a little tipsy.
"Every person so far, it would seem." Aziraphale smiled shyly, chest still heaving. "That plant pot, are you interested…?"
"Oh! Oh, yes." The man exaggerated a nod. "Yes, absolutely, lead the way. I'll just…"
He seemed to be trying to make his fingers unclench from around Aziraphale.
"...collect up your plant and soil?" Aziraphale suggested, helpfully.
"Yes, that's the one."
They continued to grip each other awkwardly for a few more moments before finally releasing and pushing away from each other on the same breath. Aziraphale, missing the closeness of the man already, patted himself down, straightening out the creases from his favourite coat--antique, circa 1800--and took his keys from his pocket to unlock the door.
"Is it far?" asked the man, scooping up as much soil into his cradled palms as he could. "Your bookshop?"
"Oh, no, I'm right here," Aziraphale tittered.
The man looked up to see him open the burgundy double doors of his bookshop.
"Quick, hurry up inside. It wouldn't do to accidentally let any customers in," Aziraphale said with as much disdain he truly felt for anyone with the audacity to attempt a purchase of one of his books.
"Oh no, that would be… terrible ?" the man said, confused.
"Oh good, you understand. Walk through to the back, and I'll follow once I've locked the door behind me."
The redheaded man that Aziraphale had just met and already kissed walked through the doors and sauntered past him, hips swaying mesmerisingly, causing Aziraphale's already racing heart to beat a notch faster, and he was feeling increasingly hot and bothered under the collar. He locked up, quick as a flash, and followed the stranger, and it was in that moment that the scent finally hit him.
Liquorice.
Mint.
Alpha.
"Oh good lord, you're an Alpha?" Aziraphale blurted out.
"Last time I checked." The man smirked. "The pot…?"
"Oh, yes! Forget my own head next."
Aziraphale bent under the sink of the kitchenette and was retrieving the aforementioned plant pot when he heard a sharp intake of breath behind him. He turned to see the Alpha looking away in a random direction, cheeks flushed, subtly trying to readjust himself without any free hands.
Well. That was flattering.
Not used to that kind of attention, Aziraphale smirked to himself and turned back to get the pot, only this time he added a wiggle that may or may not have been all that necessary. When he finally stood up holding his prize, he turned to see the Alpha now shamelessly staring, jaw dropped. Aziraphale held the pot beneath the man's hands, letting the soil and plant drop into it with a whump . The Omega let his gaze fall to the Alpha's open mouth, lips pink and so kissable - Aziraphale recalled the feel of them on his own, the man's stubble still a fresh grazing burn across his skin.
He didn't even realise that he'd been gravitating towards him until the Alpha pulled away abruptly and made his way to the sink. Aziraphale felt an altogether uncharacteristic pang of rejection that he couldn't say he was a fan of. He was beginning to feel excessively hot, his clothes suffocating him, the air more stifling and unwelcoming than usual. He pulled at his bowtie.
"Right, well,” said the redhead. “Cheers for the pot, and the ki– the pot. I'll just wash my hands and leave you to your heat."
That brought Aziraphale up short.
"My what?"
The Alpha frowned at him. "Your heat ," he enunciated like Aziraphale's mind had trouble concentrating--which, to be fair, it did.
"M-my dear," Aziraphale stammered, "I don't have heats."
"You could try to fool me any other day, but not when I'm this close to- not today . Not right now, apparently," the Alpha muttered, seemingly getting quite flustered himself. "You're an Omega."
"An Omega I may be, but I'm telling you, I. Don't. Have. Heats. I never have!"
The redhead sighed, running his now-clean hands down his face. "If I stay here much longer, I'm not going to be able to leave."
Aziraphale couldn't see the problem with that, no matter how hard he tried. The smell of liquorice and mint was mouth watering, and the Omega very much wanted to sample the scent from the source. He took a step towards the Alpha.
"You can stay, if you want. Though I should warn you I'm beginning to feel not at all well. The most bizarre thing really; I was fine earlier-"
"Angel," the Alpha growled at him. Aziraphale hadn't been growled at since he was a pup. The sound made him want to fall to his knees and listen. "You're in heat. And I'm in rut--several weeks early I might add. Something about that kiss- if I stay, I won't be able to hold myself back from you."
That didn't sound too bad at all. Aziraphale had never spent a rut with an Alpha, but he had plenty of lubricant stored upstairs in his armoire. He hoped they could get to it in time before the Alpha lost control.
"I'm telling you-" Aziraphale began, but was cut off.
"There's slick running down your trouser legs."
"Excuse me?" Aziraphale looked down and indeed his trousers were soaked.
Ah, no lubricant needed then.
He started undoing his belt and buttons. The Alpha's pupils blew wide, and he started taking shallow breaths through his mouth.
"What are you doing?!" he demanded.
"Taking my trousers off before I ruin them."
"Why aren't you wearing an O pad?"
"I told you, I don't have heats. This has never happened before."
"That wasn't just a line to try to convince me to stay?"
Aziraphale stopped with his trousers around his knees. That line had only ever encouraged others to leave . "A line? No, of course not. What- what on Earth is this?" He ran his hand through the mess that was saturating his legs and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. The fluid was clear, slightly sticky, and smelled overwhelmingly of chocolate and marshmallow, his own scent.
"That would be your slick," the Alpha replied.
" This is my slick?" He thought it would be more repulsive, somehow.
"Seems like it."
"Well, dear boy, how do you make it stop? It's like a fount!" Aziraphale was kicking off shoes and trousers now, and began working on his waistcoat buttons. The cool air was a balm on his burning skin, and he desperately needed that feeling all over.
The Alpha started pulling at his own top, unsure whether to remove it or not. "Well, Omegas usually, you know," he gestured vaguely, "Plug it up with something."
"Oh, a plug?" Aziraphale lifted his head. "I have one of those."
"Not a literal plug." The Alpha forgot about his henley, and started to unbuckle his belt instead. "Like, a knot," he said, fighting the complicated design.
"Not a plug?"
"But a knot." And finally, the Alpha freed his own. It bulged proudly, a generous swelling at the base of his cock as it sprang free from the confines of his overly tight skinny jeans, harder and taller than any that Aziraphale had been privy to see.
Aziraphale's mouth watered, and for the first time it wasn't the only bit of him that gushed. He clenched his legs together and groaned.
"I'm going to have to get this carpet professionally cleaned," he complained. "How humiliating."
A commanding growl drew his attention away from the growing puddle on the floor. The Alpha had his trousers off, and had at some point cast his sunglasses to the side so they'd landed on the plant.
"Omega," he ground out. "Tell me you want this. I don't want to take advantage of you, but I can't stop myself now. Tell me this is something you want."
The redhead seemed completely maddened with despair and arousal, but at no point did a command slip into his words. It was simply a plea.
"I want this," Aziraphale said directly, and was surprised to find that he truly did. He needed this Alpha to stay with him and care for him through this apparent heat. Not just any Alpha, but this Alpha specifically. Aziraphale had his suspicions on why that might be, but he was too sceptical and heat-addled to give it any greater thought at this moment. "I want this," Aziraphale said again, feeling it deep in the core of him. "I want you . I need you, Alpha, please . It's- it's beginning to hurt," he whimpered.
The redhead was with him in an instant, holding him to his chest, carding his fingers through his hair. "It's OK, sweet thing. It's OK. Tell me, what do you need?"
"I don't know," Aziraphale said despairingly. "I've never experienced this before."
"That's all right, listen to your body, your instincts. What would make them happiest right now?"
The Alpha's naked cock was rubbing up against Aziraphale's stomach, his own brushing up alongside the impressive knot the redhead was boasting. He felt more slick slip loose from him and heard it splatter on the floor.
"Make the dripping stop, please," he begged.
There was a soft chuckle, and then, "That I can do."
The Alpha took Aziraphale's hand and led him to the sofa, where he sat resting against the backrest. Then he drew him down to sit in his lap, facing away. The cock and knot slotted nicely between Aziraphale's buttocks, the slick giving a nice smooth slide to the motion. The Alpha gave a small growl and bucked his hips, jolting Aziraphale upwards.
"Please, Alpha. I'm scared," he nearly sobbed, clutching at the other man's thighs beneath him, so unused to the hot, desperate need coming from inside him. "Can I- I want to face you."
Aziraphale went to turn, but strong arms wrapped around his torso, pinning his arms to his side, a head buried between his shoulder blades as gentle rutting continued beneath him.
"This position will be more comfortable, trust me. These afghans are machine washable, right?" the Alpha said into his skin, holding onto his sanity despite his rut.
"I don't know, they've never been washed," admitted Aziraphale shakily.
"Lots of firsts for you today, then."
And the Alpha raised Aziraphale up by his middle, and gently lowered him down onto his cockhead.
The Omega would forever deny the noise that tore free from him as he was breached. His hole stretched around the blunt head of the Alpha's cock like nothing he had ever experienced before. It was hot and hard, the sting delicious in a way that was never achieved with sex toys. Aziraphale was so wet with slick, there was a slurp ing noise, which at any other time would've been humourous and embarrassing, but now it was the most lewd and arousing sound Aziraphale could think of. Slick spilled out of Aziraphale's hole, coating the Alpha's cock in a wet sheath and forming a puddle in his lap.
The Alpha filled him, inch by glorious inch, and Aziraphale had never felt so full. A nose buried itself in his neck, followed by the lathe of a tongue along his scent gland.
"You're gorgeous," said the redhead beneath him. "You're so gorgeous. I wanted you even before you took my fucking hand. The sunlight behind you lighting your hair up like a halo--you looked like a fucking angel. And now I'm inside you. I can't believe I get to be inside you. I'm so lucky, I'm so lucky-"
Aziraphale preened under the continued onslaught of the Alpha's mindless babbling, the base of his knot finally resting against the rim of the Omega's hole. And then began the thrusting.
Aziraphale had used a lot of sex toys in the past. Large ones, small ones, ones that knotted, ones that vibrated, self-thrusting ones; nothing could compare to the pressure of a knot directly against his hole by a rutting Alpha. It was by far the best sensation he had ever experienced, and the only way he ever wanted it to end at all was if the knot was inside him instead.
"You're so tight. How are you this tight?" growled the Alpha into his neck, teeth pressed dangerously against skin. "Should've loosened you up on my fingers first, but there was no time. Had to fill you up."
It had been a while since he had used the large toys, Aziraphale supposed.
"You're squeezing around me--ah--taking me so well," panted the Alpha.
Aziraphale's brain was too scrambled to reply with anything coherent, so he just replied with a series of moans and more ’s and please ’s.
"Alpha…"
"I've got you," the other man said on each thrust. "I've got you, I've got- "
And his knot slipped into Aziraphale.
The Omega screamed, immediately ejaculating all over his own stomach, coming harder than he ever remembered doing his entire life, and it just kept going and going. The Alpha continued to grind his knot inside him, relentlessly pressing against Aziraphale's prostate in a way he'd never felt before, pushing him over the edge immediately into a second orgasm, also something unheard of for him. His hole twitched and spasmed around the Alpha's cock, the Alpha grunting and swearing his way through it until, impossibly, the knot swelled even larger, locking their bodies together, and wringing a third, dry orgasm from Aziraphale in as much as a minute.
The last thing Aziraphale remembered before passing out was the warm sensation of being filled with the Alpha's spend.
–
When he awoke, however much later, he could feel the stretch of the knot still very much buried deep inside him. Cool arms were wrapped around his still hot body, and he could feel a heartbeat that wasn't his own against his back. A face was buried in his neck, absentmindedly leaving licks and kisses all over the stretch of his scent gland. Though the fever of heat still burned through him, for now he was sated and his mind was clear.
He had just had sex with a complete stranger. He knew nothing about this man, except maybe that he spoke to plants. Speaking of which, good lord , the plant was looking right at them, sunglasses askew, having watched the whole thing. Though this Alpha had no claim mark on his neck, he may already have a mate, and Aziraphale had lured him into his bookshop, wiggled his backside at him, and then begged him for- he's not sure what he begged him for, exactly, it was all a bit of a blur. Something about afghans?
"I can hear you thinking," came a quiet voice murmured into his neck.
Aziraphale cleared his throat, trying to stay relaxed with all the questions racing around his head. "H-how long does this coupling usually last?"
There was a grunt. "Not sure," the Alpha admitted. "I've never spent a rut with an Omega before, let alone one in heat. S’all a bit…" The Alpha let go of Aziraphale's middle to gesture vaguely, " Different."
The Omega barely had time to mourn the loss of touch before it was returned, squeezing him comfortably and gently.
"No?" Aziraphale asked, trying to not be too obvious. "No one waiting for you at home?"
"Nope," said the Alpha, popping the p.
"It's just you? You're unattached?" Instincts in Aziraphale insisted upon making absolutely sure. The jealousy that blossomed in him at the very thought of this Alpha belonging to another-
"Just me, and don't say 'unattached' , it makes me sound like a garden hose," the Alpha snorted, nuzzling Aziraphale's temple. He relaxed into the gesture.
Aziraphale tried to twist around to see the face of the grandfather clock, but the action pulled at where Alpha and Omega were joined, causing them both to yelp, and the hold the redhead had on him to tighten.
"What about you then?" asked the Alpha in a strained voice. "Beginning to think you've never been knotted before."
Aziraphale tried not to let shame and embarrassment wash through him, but he didn't think he did a very good job of it. "Am I that obvious?" he asked quietly.
"What? No, hey, don't get upset," said the Alpha, reacting to the change in Aziraphale's scent. "Nothing wrong with never receiving a knot. I can't imagine why though; you're absolutely gorgeous and smell delicious. You must have Alphas fighting each other to get to you, is all."
Aziraphale blushed at the praise, scent getting lighter and happier. "They're definitely not fighting over me. I've never gotten slick before today."
"You're definitely making up for it--and that isn't a bad thing, by the way, so no feeling embarrassed about it. What does that have to do with being knotted?" The Alpha frowned.
"As soon as an Alpha learned that I'd need to use lubrication for penetration, they saw it as a failing on my part. It hurt their pride, their inability to get me wet, and thus: no sex, no knotting," Aziraphale said matter-of-factly.
"Bunch of pig-headed idiots," the Alpha muttered.
Aziraphale chuckled, enjoying the tug of the Alpha's knot inside him as he jostled up and down. He felt so full. Not even his widest anal plug could get him feeling as full and as satisfied as this. He sighed happily, and placed his hand on the redhead's arm circling his waist. He felt a wetness there, and brought his hand up to find red on his fingertips.
"Oh, my dear, but you're bleeding?" he asked, concerned. Aziraphale lifted the arm to find crescent shapes along the meat of it, shining bright with blood.
"Ah, yeah," the Alpha shrugged. "I did that to stop myself from biting your neck."
"Does it hurt?" Instinct told Aziraphale to soothe it with a good licking, but he didn't want to overstep.
The Alpha made some vague noises that sounded like the start of words, before saying, "Nnngk, not really, not too much anyway."
Aziraphale kissed the bite tenderly before lowering the arm back down to his waist. "I suppose I should thank you," he said, though to be completely honest he wasn't sure if he wanted to.
Now that his mind was clearer with a cock inside him, there was a word repeating itself in Aziraphale's mind over and over again that he had read about in books. Where Alpha and Omega are bound together by fate and destiny, drawn to each other like sheer magnetism, unable to pull away no matter how hard they try, that the first touch of physical contact could send both Alpha and Omega into rut and heat respectively, one that could cause them great amounts of pain and loneliness to spend without one another. It was so rare that it was thought to be a myth, something only found in storybooks or through hearsay.
Now Aziraphale wasn't too sure. "Darling, does the word 'Truemates' mean anything to you?" he asked tentatively.
Immediately there was a loud groan of relief and understanding. "Is that what this is? We're Truemates?" the Alpha asked, joy slipping into his scent and his tone. "No wonder the smell of you has made me so crazy. I got some oil from your scent gland on me when we collided outside, and I was so distracted that I let go of Eric."
"Eric?"
"The plant," he explained, the foliage in question still scrutinising them.
"Ah," replied Aziraphale, followed by a different kind of 'ah' when the fire inside him began to burn anew. It was just on the beginning end of smouldering, so he could still think clearly for now.
"That is to say, my dear…" he trailed off, realising he had no idea what this Alpha's name was.
The Alpha seemed to realise this, and quickly and awkwardly bent his arm around to Aziraphale's front to shake his hand. "Crowley," he, the Alpha--Crowley--offered.
"Crowley," Aziraphale repeated, the sound of the name on his tongue stoking the flames inside him. He shook his head to clear it. "That is to say, my dear Crowley," he repeated, "As we are Truemates--and I truly believe we are, why else would my first ever heat take me over four decades into my life until the simple touch of your hand-"
"You're babbling," interrupted Crowley, probably responding to the increased heat and clenching around the base of his cock.
"Right, yes. If you want to bite me, you may bite me," Aziraphale rushed.
"Bite?" asked Crowley. "You mean Mark you? Claim you?"
"Yes, mhmm," Aziraphale nodded, hoping he hadn't misinterpreted the Alpha's interest in him. "And I, in turn, could Mark you, if you wanted, if that's something you'd be interested in."
Crowley was quiet for a moment, and Aziraphale was beginning to regret mentioning this whilst locked together and unable to escape, but then the Alpha squeezed his arms tightly around Aziraphale's waist and buried his nose in his scent gland, licking and lapping at it, teeth grazing it carelessly and dangerously, hips bucking up into Aziraphale's backside, grinding the still inflated knot into him relentlessly as Crowley purred and purred and purred.
"Is that a yes?" squeaked Aziraphale, his own purrs threatening to break out.
"Yes, you lovely thing! Yes!"
"Oh, good." Aziraphale's purrs erupted, and he felt drunk on relief and love and pleasure. "If your knot ever goes down enough to slip free from me, would you like to move this to my nest?"
"Where is it?" asked Crowley.
"Up those stairs, second door on the left-!"
Aziraphale yelped as Crowley stood up, cock and knot inside him, arms hooked underneath Aziraphale's knees so he could carry him, and he walked up the stairs, groans of pleasure escaping from Aziraphale as the knot pulled and pushed at him with each and every step.
He came as they reached the top.
