Chapter Text
With a self-assuring smile, Aziraphale stepped into the elevator with the Metatron, who eyed him suspiciously but reached up to press the Heaven button all the same.
Wait. What am I doing?
“Doors closing. Going up,” chimed the elevator.
Why am I doing this? Wait.
The elevator car began to rise.
I can't go without him. I don't want to.
He brought his hand to his mouth again, lips quivering against his fingertips.
I can't do this. I can't leave him. Wait. Wait!
“Wait!” Aziraphale shrieked as he reached out in front of the Metatron and whacked the Earth button so hard it gave off a small spark. The elevator shook as it halted and began moving downward.
“Aziraphale! What in God's name are you doing?!”
The angel took a shuddering inhale. “The right thing,” he muttered.
“Beg pardon?”
He turned to face the Metatron, swallowing hard. “I must apologize. I very much appreciate this offer, but I am afraid I need to respectfully decline.”
“This is madness, Aziraphale! Think about what you're turning down!”
He swallowed again, willing the lump in his throat to go down. “Yes, I believe I have finally realized just what that is.”
The Metatron snarled. “It's a once-in-an-eternity offer is what it is!”
“Then I'm sure you'll find plenty of other angels who will leap at the chance.” The elevator stopped and Aziraphale faced forward. “There is another once-in-an-eternity offer I must accept instead.” If it's still on the table.
“You mean to stay with your musty old shop and your God-forsaking demon?” the Metatron mocked.
Aziraphale's expression and tone turned strong and brave, brokering no argument. “Exactly. My shop, and my demon.” It was a warning. The doors swung open and he stepped out without another word.
Crowley, who hadn't moved an inch from his position leaning against the Bentley, turned his gaze to the coffee shop. Nina looked up at that moment and gave him a small wave. He turned to the other side of the street, seeing Maggie had dozed off over her counter in the record store. Not daring another glance toward the elevator, his cursed optimism crushed, he reached down to the door handle only to receive what felt like a sharp, static shock to his hand.
“What the fuck?” he growled. He turned away from the Bentley, giving his hand a shake and looking at his open palm. When he looked up, he blinked with a small startle as he saw Aziraphale standing about two meters away. He pressed his lips together tight and moved back to leaning against the car with his right hand in his pocket.
The angel dared to step closer to the demon, arms at his sides, hands clenching and unclenching with nerves. With his eyes big and shining, and his lips curved up but still trembling, he was the first to speak.
“I got off the elevator.”
Upon utterance of his quickly planned announcement, he heard Crowley breathe a soft but rough sigh.
“So y'did. Bloody good job for you,” came the response, such bitterness to his words that Aziraphale could practically taste them. Like Brussels sprouts in apple cider vinegar.
Well. That line hadn't garnered the reaction he'd hoped for. It had seemed so romantic in his head on the way to Crowley's spot on the sidewalk. He was sure he'd read about or perhaps witnessed a similar situation in which one party announced that they'd departed from the vessel they were traveling on to stay with another party, and it had made the second party rush into their arms with great joy. Maybe he simply needed to make himself clearer.
Steeling himself, he stepped up close to the demon. “The Metatron's offer... I turned it down.”
“OhhIsssee,” the demon drawled, chin jutted forward. “The oat milk latte wasn't syrupy enough to sweeten your particular pot after all?”
Aziraphale looked confused. “What? No, that's not... and is it just me or was that rather odd? Him buying me a coffee?”
The demon couldn't agree as he saw the gesture for what it was - a move he'd been using himself with Aziraphale for most of their time together. The angel's love for more worldly pleasures was certainly no secret to anyone who knew him so he wasn't surprised the Metatron had done it too; first with the coffee and then the offer to restore his angelic status when he knew Crowley would refuse anyway. Crowley had often swayed Aziraphale into making the right choice in the past by reminding him what he'd be missing out on or distracting him with some type of offering.
Problem was, the last thing he'd offered was himself. And he hadn't been good enough to win out over Heaven.
Though his face and body were threatening to crumple, he managed to rein in his corporation enough to merely give a shrug. “S'enough to get you to follow him 'round like a damned lickspittle.”
The angel's nostrils flared. “Crowley...”
“Can't believe you didn't have him take you out for a celebratory breakfast at the Ritz first.”
“I beg your pardon?!”
“But I digress. You've come back for your shop, of course. S'the only thing that matters in the end, yeah? So I should leave you to–“
Aziraphale stomped his foot, not caring how uncouth he appeared at that moment. “Damn the coffee,” he yelled, “damn the Ritz, and damn the bookshop!”
The demon recoiled a bit at the shock of hearing the angel curse, eyebrows rising high over the rim of his glasses. Through the dark lenses, he saw some citizens had turned their heads toward the commotion or even stopped for a brief stare. Nina included – and she pulled out her phone as she eyed the pair warily from the window.
Aziraphale placed his hands on the demon's shoulders, his expression softening. “I came back for you, Crowley. Only you.” And then it was his turn to press his lips to Crowley's.
The demon made a disgruntled noise, trying to pull back but was chased straight away each time by the angel's mouth. Captivated by those soft lips, he kept being brought back in. All he'd wanted since he'd pried himself away from their first kiss was to do it again. But now he was at odds with himself, craving his kisses so desperately but still so angry with his angel. “Zir... mm... phale,” he grunted in syllables between each peck. “Damn... mm... fool, I'm... ngk... furious... mm... I... Zira...” His corporeal heart fluttered with an unquenchable spark of elation, of hope, and he could no longer resist, allowing the angel to guide their kiss.
Aziraphale poured everything he wanted to relay into that kiss. Their first kiss had been a desperate press of Crowley's mouth against his own, hard and unyielding, and the angel had still been at war with his decision, grasping and releasing the demon in irresolution. This kiss was steadfast but with the most tender sweetness he could manage, as inexperienced at kissing as he was. And he thought Crowley understood, at least a little, because the hand that had been resting in the pocket of those dark jeans moved to rest against Aziraphale's shoulder. Then finally, finally, Crowley began to really kiss back, sharing the lead.
So absorbed in their osculation were the two that neither noticed Maggie crossing the street with large, tiptoed steps as she held her hand over her mouth on her way into the coffee shop.
Aziraphale brought his thumb up to gently stroke Crowley's jaw and the demon's shoulders shook as he emitted a muffled noise into their kiss. That caused Aziraphale to pull back from the kiss and look at him with concern. “Crowley? What is it, dear?”
He released a rough groan through closed lips. “S'nothing. Leave it.”
Aziraphale did not leave it, opting to raise his fingers to the rims of the dark glasses, gingerly placing them atop Crowley's head. He gasped upon seeing the demon's eyes, slightly reddened and welling with tears. That prompted a sob of his own. “Oh, my dear, I've broken your heart.”
Crowley sniffed. “Brilliant observation from an idiot such as yourself,” he bit. “I would never leave you when you needed me, ever. Thought the feeling was mutual, didn't think you'd fuck off to Heaven when a chance at leadership was dangled in front of your face.”
“I tried telling the Metatron I didn't want to go back to Heaven, but then he said you could come with me, that's why I accepted!”
“Bollocks! You wanted that power, and sure, you wanted me there too, but only if you 'reinstated' me! Knocked the 'bad guy' out of me! Made me good enough, changed who I am entirely for you, for them!”
Aziraphale gasped, shook his head, placed his hand over his heart. “Oh, Crowley, I didn't mean–“
“And when I said no, you went along with him anyway!” Crowley let out an embarrassing sob and two tears finally fell. Aziraphale was quick to wipe them away before Crowley put his glasses back on.
Behind the coffee shop window, Maggie was letting out a quiet sob of her own and Nina was squeezing her arm reassuringly, the queue of customers forgotten.
“I am an idiot, Crowley. I've been a stupid, stubborn, selfish angel.” He quickly wiped his own eyes with his sleeve. “My words were so poorly chosen. I don't want you to change, my dear demon, you're perfect as you are. And if Heaven doesn't want you for who you are, then I've gone as far as I can with them.” Crowley's eyes widened a little in realization of what he'd just heard, so Aziraphale continued. “I just... I wanted everything, I always do. And I wanted you to be happy too, I did. Like before the Beginning. So I wanted to fix things upstairs so you could be happy.”
The demon huffed in frustration. “I was happy, Aziraphale.”
Aziraphale nodded. “I hadn't truly realized it before. I know now. And what kind of angel am I if I can't even respect my dearest's wishes? If I can't give him anything in return? And on the way up in the elevator I realized that if you aren't there, I don't want anything. Not directing projects up in Heaven, not meals at the Ritz, not even the bookshop. It all means nothing if you're not there too.” He took Crowley's hands in his. “I am tremendously sorry, Crowley. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry I even considered the Metatron's offer. You are what's most important to me. We are what's most important. I do want us to be us.”
Crowley exhaled another shuddering breath, one last tear slipping down from under his glasses.
“Now,” the angel began, voice cautious but hopeful, “might I tempt you to a, say, boozy little breakfast so we can discuss the topic of 'us' further?”
Crowley shook his head and released his hands to wipe his face. “It's too late for that.”
Aziraphale's heart had never sunk, nor his smile ever fallen, so fast in his existence. He was on the other side now, the one to be left standing on the pavement, watching the other walk away. Crowley had given up, was going to leave him, and–
“The kitchen is closing for breakfast by now.”
The angel's eyes lit up in realization as he looked up to notice the sun's position in the sky. “O-Oh! So it is.”
Crowley gave a bilabial trill. “Buuuut I s'pose I could settle for a spot of tea at your place.”
The angel smiled, making a happy little noise as he slipped a hand back into the demon's. “Our place,” he corrected and promptly escorted his dearest toward the bookshop.
Maggie clapped with glee as she watched the pair leave hand in hand. “Oh, I knew it, I just knew things would work out if they talked!” A sudden yawn escaped her. “Pardon me.”
Nina smiled. “Me too. Now go get some rest, angel.”
~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~
“Mr. Crowley! Oh, and Mr. Fell, hello!” Muriel chimed, setting the book they were reading down and leaping out of the desk chair. “You're back from Heaven already?”
“Ah, no, I never went, actually. I've decided to remain here.”
“Oh, that's nice,” they replied. “But... does that mean I'm not in charge of the bookshop anymore?”
Aziraphale looked a bit panicked and turned away from those innocent eyes to Crowley in a silent plea for help. He got none, of course, as Crowley simply leaned up against a pillar and smirked, enjoying the moment. “Ahem. I suppose I deserve that,” he uttered quietly.
“Deserve what?” Muriel asked.
“N-Nothing, Muriel. I'll tell you what... you can run the shop in my absence. If Crowley and I decide to pop off somewhere for any amount of time, I'll put you in charge. Does that sound alright?”
“Oh! Yes! I would still like that very much,” they exclaimed.
“Great. Now that's sorted,” Crowley interjected,” we're gonna need you to pop off for a while.” He swaggered over to Muriel and leaned near their ear. “We need that 'us' time I mentioned earlier.”
“Oh...for that 'ext-er-eeemly alcoholic breakfast' you wanted?” they asked and Aziraphale had to cover his mouth to hold back a laugh.
“Ngk. Somethin' like that.” He turned to the closest shelf, grabbed a large stack of books, and shoved them into Muriel's arms. “Take those, and this,” he directed, materializing some bank notes and shoving them into one of their lower coat pockets. “Head to the coffee shop. Go... read something, try the whole menu, whatever y'want.”
“Um... okay! When shall I come back?”
He flashed them what Aziraphale considered to be an unsettlingly large grin. “We'll come get you.”
“Read the books... try the menu... you'll come get me. Got it! Bye!”
Crowley dashed to the door and held it open for Muriel as they hurried out. With a snap of his fingers, the door shut and locked and the shades lowered.
Aziraphale tutted once Crowley had turned back towards him. “You're going to owe Nina for that later.”
“Naahhh, Muriel won't be a bother for her. 'Sides, she owes me, got her and Maggie set up after all.”
“Ah, no, my dear demon, I believe it was us who arranged that together.”
“Us, eh?” he drawled, striding over to the angel. “Was just gettin' to that...” He slipped off his glasses and set them in their usual spot before standing before him, palms turned forward. “Here it is, angel. The start of us.”
Aziraphale seemed to relax then, smiling and straightening his waistcoat out of habit. Blue and gold irises stared deeply, and then the space between them closed as the angel moved in to tightly embrace the demon. He tucked his arms under Crowley's and sighed happily as he felt the affection returned in the squeeze of those arms around his back. Turning his head, he pressed a kiss against the snake tattoo, prompting a tighter hug from Crowley as the redhead buried his face into the juncture between collared neck and shoulder.
“Don't wanna let go of you, angel.” It was nearly whispered.
“So don't, my dear.”
An exhale of breath caressed the angel's face as the demon moved to rest their foreheads against one another. “Are you sure? No regrets?”
The paler forehead shook quickly. “I've had qualms with myself, struggled to make decisions in the past. But being by your side? Crowley, I will never regret you.”
Their lips fit together for the third time, gently, sweetly. No desperation, no pleas to stay, to forgive. Only devotion, simple and pure. Fingers carded through soft, wispy hair and stroked over well-defined cheekbones and jawlines. Naught but the soft din of lips pulling apart before pressing together once more filled the room, until...
“Darling, listen. Oh, do you hear them?”
A nod, a hand taken in his own, a kiss placed upon each knuckle. “Sure do, angel.”
The pair returned to kissing, Crowley placing his tongue forward just enough to meet with Aziraphale's bottom lip. There was a soft gasp, and then the two tongues were introduced, delicately swiping as the kissing continued with open mouths and soft moans. Feeling a bit on the bold side, the angel deepened the kiss, humming in delight as he discovered the taste of the Chenevel Rouge the demon had imbibed just hours before. Crowley dared a deeper taste himself and hummed in approval. It seemed as though Aziraphale tasted of an amalgam of his favorite flavors, and he relished notes of raspberries, tea, almonds, and golden sugars. He tightened their embrace and his attention was drawn to the angel's show of interest against his hip.
“Oh, my. It seems I'm–“
“Me too.” Crowley shifted, allowing Aziraphale to take notice of his own show of interest. He cupped a soft cheek. “Would you like to do something about it?”
Aziraphale pursed his lips in a nervous twitch. “What have you in mind?”
“Anything. Everything. Or nothing. Whichever you wish. I know you haven't... before.”
“Have you?”
“Just with m'self.”
He took a moment to ponder. “Can we just... sit? For a while? And kiss? I do so enjoy kissing you. Maybe it will help me make up my mind.”
“'Course. I like kissing you too. And there's no rush.”
Crowley led Aziraphale to the sofa near the window, seating himself against the thick arm and the angel against his left side. Aziraphale promptly sought out Crowley's neck, fervently kissing up to the bottom of his ear and back down. That caught the demon off guard, soft moans pouring freely from him the whole time. He cupped the angel's cheek and leaned over to carefully brush his tongue behind his ear, ending the motion with a gentle nip to the shell. Aziraphale gasped and pulled back to look his dearest in the eyes, a fire flickering in his own. With eager mouths, they resumed their kissing, content with “making out” as the humans called it. As their session heated, he noticed Aziraphale tugging at his collar, his cheeks flushed.
“Want to get a bit more comfortable?”
“Heavens, yes.”
“What d'you want off?”
“Coat. Bow tie. Top button or two.”
Crowley snapped his fingers, effectively sending the angel's garments, plus his own jacket, scarf, and watch in a neat stack on the chair by the desk. The buttons, however, the demon opted to undo on his own. Aziraphale sighed in relief as his collar loosened and then their lips were pressing hard again, the kiss ardent and feverish. The white-blonde began panting through his nose, one hand on the redhead's cheek and the other reaching to grasp his shoulder. Crowley's desire was overwhelming, and he needed Aziraphale closer. So he grabbed him by waist and hip and tugged him up and over so he was in his lap, straddling his thighs.
“Oh!”
“Ngk!”
The angel's eyes were wide with astonishment. “Oh, I say... this feels...”
Crowley could only nod, voice having fucked right off for the moment.
“Let me try...” Aziraphale started, giving an experimental roll of his hips and promptly moaning at the new sensations.
“Guhh~” Crowley choked, rolling his eyes behind closed lids as that was the first sound his voice let him make upon returning, the bastard.
“M-May I continue?” Aziraphale pleaded, face awash with arousal.
“Fucking yes, angel,” he answered. In truth, his already tight jeans weren't doing his erection any favors and he could've used an adjustment. Actually, he'd rather have seen their clothing gone already. But he dared not discourage his partner, not when he was already moving, panting and moaning softly, open and unabashed in seeking his fleshly pleasures for the very first time. Even if it meant making an absolute mess of their trousers. He pulled himself out of his own head and focused on the prurience about them, leaning into the corner between the sofa's arm and seat back, carefully rocking his own hips up to meet the angel's. Shuddering with lust at each movement, he gladly went along with whatever the other wanted.
Aziraphale's breathing and movements lost rhythm and his hand clutched tighter to Crowley's shoulder. “Crowley, I think... is this... am I about to... to come?”
The demon looked down and saw the angel was just as hard as he was, felt the length of him twitching in his trousers. “Seems so. Do you want to?”
“Y-Yes, I want to try. What do... should I just keep going?”
“Yes, angel, whatever feels good to you. No wrong answer here.”
“Will you come as well? I want to see it.”
“Fuck. Yes. Yes.”
Aziraphale moved the hand on Crowley's cheek to the back of his neck and rolled his hips with more vigor. Crowley wrapped his arms around his torso, keeping him upright.
“Ah... nnh... ah!”
Crowley felt fingers digging hard into his neck and shoulder. “That's it. Jus' like that.”
“Crowley, I... C-Crow– OH!” Aziraphale's head tipped back as he cried out, overcome by pleasure. His angelic glow radiated as his body tingled with delight. His hips bucked of their own accord as he ground his pulsing cock against Crowley, his essence spurting forth into his pants, staining through to his trousers.
Gasping and gaping at the sight of his angel experiencing his first orgasm atop him, Crowley managed to hold off long enough for Aziraphale to set eyes on him before he let himself go. His jaw dropped and he emitted several broken moans as he came, head tipping back and nails pressing into Aziraphale's waistcoat.
The angel's cock gave one final twitch at the sight and then he collapsed forward against Crowley's chest, breathing tremulant. The demon clasped his hands together against Aziraphale's back to keep them from shaking, his body still overwhelmed. Neither spoke for a time, too wrapped up in the afterglow. Once they'd calmed and could hear nothing but the nightingales, the angel attempted to form words.
“Pfnch mm.”
Crowley gently tugged the angel's head back, pulling his lips off his neck. “Bit muffled there, wanna try again?”
“Pinch me.”
“Whatever for?”
“I believe I've discorporated. I must have, surely. I'm afraid to look.”
Crowley smirked. “Looks like you're all here to me.”
“Will you check?” Aziraphale requested with a little pout, eyes still closed.
“Angel, I can see–“
“But could you check anyway?”
Crowley gave a dramatic sigh. “Fiiine. Such a demanding angel,” he teased. He started by putting his hands in the bright curls. “There's your head, your hair, your ears. Face's got all the features, eyes, nose, mouth...” He proved himself by kissing each eyelid, the tip of the nose, and his lips. “Got my hands on your back so I know that's there.” Then without warning, he pushed Aziraphale down so his back was on the sofa and laid atop him.
“Crowley!” Aziraphale giggled.
“Have to check somehow, don't I? Now let's see...” He put his hands on his neck. “Seems all there. Got your arms... chest... stomach,” he said as he tickled his sides briefly.
“Haha-hey! Alright, you've proved your point.”
“Nonono, I promised you a thorough discorporation examination and I intend to follow through.” Crowley then reached back to grasp under Aziraphale's knees. “Legs seem to be in working order. Hips... those are more than alright, aren't they?” The angel bit his lip and the demon grinned. “Now, do you need me to check further or do you trust the rest of you is still intact?”
With a blush, the angel answered. “Check further, please.”
Crowley slid his hands underneath to his bottom. “Got one... and two halves of arse,” he announced, giving them a squeeze. “As for that cock of yours... oh my. Well, that's certainly still stood at attention, innit?”
Aziraphale finally opened his eyes and looked down at the erection still tenting his trousers. “Oh, dear. Is that normal?”
“'Course it's normal. Means you're still... excited. Crowley sat up to show off his own cock, still pressing firm against his jeans. “See? Me too.”
The angel sat up and took Crowley's hands. “So... does that mean you liked it?” He tried to be playful but the uncertainty in his eyes gave him away.
“Oh, Aziraphale.” Crowley gave those hands a squeeze. “It was fantastic. How about you?”
“It was incredible, my dear. I've never felt anything like that before. Thank you for sharing that with me and being so obliging.”
Crowley looked down sheepishly. “Yeah, super obliging demon, me. Don't have to thank me for that, though.”
“I want to. It was very special to me. And you were so kind, letting me take my time.”
Crowley let out a growl and the sound of it shot straight to Aziraphale's erection. “Not kind! Head hazy with arousal.”
Aziraphale held in a laugh. “Whatever you say, dear.”
“Do shut it, please and thanks.”
“You could make me 'shut it' by kissing me more.”
“Fair point.”
Crowley tugged him close and they kissed, playful at first, with little pecks all over each others' faces. But playful soon turned to passionate and Crowley couldn't possibly wait any longer for more, so long as Aziraphale was amenable. And fuck, did he hope he was amenable because his body was teeming with so much lust he thought he might discorporate. He broke away from their kiss, panting.
Wanna take you upstairs and fuck your corporeal brains out
“Lemme take you to bed, angel. If you want to.”
Wanna make you cry out my name again
“Wanna keep making you feel good.”
Aziraphale nodded. “Yes, I want to.”
Crowley smiled. “Are you sure?”
Aziraphale smirked and waved his hand. “Well, I do believe a room is available upstairs. It would be a terrible shame to waste it.”
“Aziraphale...”
“Yes, Crowley, I'm sure. I want to make love with you.” Crowley's smile was so open and genuine, Aziraphale just had to kiss it. “Take me upstairs, darling.”
The second they stood, Crowley winced and Aziraphale made a face, scrunching his nose.
“Right, forgot about that. I've got it.” Crowley snapped his fingers and the drying spots in their trousers cleared away.
“Shall we remove our clothing for the next round?”
“Good idea, that.”