Happy Holidays, 7timesfate Part II
Title: Untitled
Gift for: 7timesfate
Author: malicehaughton
Rating: R
7timesfate requested: A/C-- focus on A's love of books, C discovers his interest in A, A is oblivious, reference to Queen mandatory; C gets A into something leather, chaos ensues; shower fic; or any combo of A/C prompts.
As was usual for the angel, Crowley spied him reading one of his blessed books as he entered the back room and sat down at the table. There was truly no sense in trying to get him to stop when he was in this deeply. It would just mean he would get glared at for being a pest.
Slightly angry at finding Aziraphale in such a mood, Crowley saw no other choices other than leave and have dinner on his own, or stare at the angel, hoping to change his mind about the book. Neither was really in his interest. What he wanted to do was yank the book out of perfectly manicured hands, put it down far away and treat Aziraphale to a nice filling meal.
"Be with you in a minute, dear," Aziraphale stated, as he quickly wrote something down on a notepad by the book that Crowley only just noticed. So, it was one of those books. Crowley relaxed. Books of prophecy were favourites of the angel, as were bibles, but since the Apocalypse that almost happened, the prophecy books didn’t hold as much interest, but Aziraphale still worked diligently on them to figure out the inner meanings.
He figured it had something to do with getting his hands on the one book that had every prophecy come true go through his hands. It must take some of the fun out of it.
The pen went down to lie in its spot by the writing pad and Aziraphale stretched before getting to his feet. "Would you like some tea? Cocoa? Wine?"
With a smirk, Crowley shook his head. "Come on angel, I’m taking you out. First to get something to eat. I was thinking Thai tonight, and then off to have some fun."
Seeing the wary look come into the angel’s eyes at the way he had said fun, made his day. Honestly, he had said it like that so many times, and Aziraphale always thought the worst. One day he would have to take him to an orgy or something utterly ridiculous like that just to see the look on his face. The thought made him chuckle.
"Don’t worry. No place that bad. Just thought of going to a pub, or club. Somewhere where there is a decent bar."
"Oh, well, that’s alright then," Aziraphale replied to his suggestion, before grabbing his coat and heading towards the door.
Glad that everything was once again going his way, he closed the door behind the angel and opened the passenger side door. He got a smile and a nod for his trouble.
He almost shut off the music when the first thing he heard was "Crazy Little Thing Called Love." The last song he had been listening to had been on the radio after all, which was usually blissfully free of Queen. So, why was he listening to it now? Hitting the eject button, he raised an eyebrow at the sight of no tape.
Figures. Thinking of a nice night out with Aziraphale where some modern music younger than Queen was playing(1) he hadn’t expected this. Meatloaf played after that, the song "I’d Do Anything for Love." With a sigh as Aziraphale began to smile at the song lyrics, he decided to let it go.
Going soft. Too many years around humans, that had to be it. Yeah.
* * * *
The dinner passed by uneventfully, as they had talked about trivial things(2) before they left to go to a club that Crowley had spotted on their way to dinner. It had looked like his kind of place really. Lots of flashing lights and people dressed either in leather or barely anything at all. He saw Aziraphale squirm in his seat, and just knew he was about to protest.
Before he could, Crowley snapped his fingers and Aziraphale was sitting beside him wearing a leather outfit. Crowley was too busy parking his car a mile away from the club(3) to notice what Aziraphale looked like, but the moment he opened the door to see what the angel looked like, he was glad he hadn’t changed his own clothes as his body immediately reacted in a wholly unexpected way.
He only managed to curb the urge to look down. If he had, he would probably have to change his clothes regardless. Aziraphale wearing all black, a snug looking t-shirt and a leather jacket was just a little bit more than arousing, it was almost orgasmic. It was that unexpected a sight. He had thought Aziraphale would change his clothes back.
"Wow, you look more than good in this outfit Aziraphale."
He was frowned at by the long suffering angel. "I feel ridiculous, Crowley. Is this necessary?"
"Just this once angel, I promise." He wished he wasn’t, but he would. Aziraphale wouldn’t allow it again anyway, he just knew it.
His eyes slipped down to the tight leather pants and he quickly removed his eyes from that place and towards the club. He wouldn’t change his clothes after all. At least he was wearing all black, and he could always make the humans inside think he was wearing leather.
The thought of being seen so aroused was embarrassing him, and he had no idea why. Perhaps he had been hanging around with angels too long. Either way, he shook his head, made sure that he wasn’t showing his current state in any way although it is quite common in these kinds of clubs and made his way inside, Aziraphale tagging along beside him.
By the time he had his third drink, he didn’t bother hiding anything. He changed his clothes and spotted Aziraphale looking at him strangely. He smiled a bit lopsidedly, a little drunk, and grabbed hold of him, dragging the angel to the dance floor, rubbing their bodies together in the most intimate gesture he had ever done with anything in his life.
Aziraphale said he didn’t dance, but he danced that night like a modern wild thing. By the time they had sobered up and were getting into the car, both of them were smiling and full of good cheer. And he wasn’t the only one in the Bentley aroused now.
He had hoped that the good feeling would last for at least a few days, but it fled immediately as they got onto Aziraphale’s street and saw the bookshop in flames. Crowley had parked in front of the shop, jumped out and ran in there to see the damage. Not much of the store was on fire, and it hadn’t yet reached the back rooms where the really valuable stuff lived, but the shop was as familiar to him as his own flat, more so even.
He grabbed the fire extinguisher the angel had installed just in case and used it, before going back out and telling Aziraphale that it was only the first few stacks at the front of the shop and the desk holding his computer that had gone up in flames.
The shop was almost instantly empty of books. The ones at the front of the store were left there to smoulder. Crowley winced, as he remembered that Aziraphale’s Wilde collection had lived in that part of the store.
"Come on. You can stay at my place."
He didn’t set a day for Aziraphale to go home.
* * * *
There was one tiny little problem with Aziraphale living in his flat with him. Well, there were several, but the biggest one was that Crowley had just discovered something. Well, several somethings. One, the angel was a wreck without his books. Aziraphale had gotten into the habit of locking himself in the spare bedroom and not coming out for long periods of time.
The other problem, and this was the big one, was that every time he saw Aziraphale, he started getting all weak-kneed and light headed and his heart started ramming in his chest with what felt like the power to almost jump right out. Parts of his body rarely in use decided to work without the effort usually required and all this while Aziraphale was wearing his normal out of date clothing. While in the leather, he could understand but this…this was ridiculous.
There was something wrong with him, he just knew it.
Seeing the fire in the bookshop had also given him nightmares. Aziraphale had invaded his bedroom some nights after he had woken up after visions of flame and suffering. He was also having odd flashes of something he had forgotten, something about the end of the world, in which the bookshop had been completely burnt down around him and Aziraphale being discorporated.
He didn’t want Aziraphale gone like that again. He had gotten comfortable with the body the angel was inhabiting now and couldn’t imagine him any other way. Not that Aziraphale wouldn’t be beautiful to him no matter what...form...
"Beautiful?" he whispered to himself as he lay in his bed one night shortly after the fire, thinking of his problem. He closed his eyes and groaned with horror. "Oh no! How could that have happened?"
He had a crush. And by the way his body was reacting it wasn’t just a small one either. And yet it seemed Aziraphale was oblivious to the fact. If Hell ever got wind of this, he would be a laughing stock for the rest of eternity, not that he wasn’t any way but still... a crush on an angel!
He was determined to get over it, and fast.
* * * *
Living with an angel that you had a major crush on was not an easy arrangement as Crowley soon discovered. His dreams had gone from nightmares to erotic acts that had him waking up screaming anyway. He knew Aziraphale worried over them, but he had told the angel that he was used to nightmares now, and that they would pass as soon as the present situation had ended.
Aziraphale didn’t realize that at the moment he was the present situation, and it was driving him to distraction.
He had gone flying that afternoon with the hopes that the cold air would cool down his libido a bit. All it had done was make him sweaty, sore and tired. But he did feel better for it. It had been such a long time since last he had flown that he had stayed in the air too long and his wing, chest and back muscles were hurting.
What he needed was a long hot bath to soak in. Too bad he didn’t have a bath, only a shower. He would truly have to fix that problem, and while he would like to conjure one up, with the angel around right now it wasn’t a good idea. Especially since Aziraphale easily got angry over small things since the accident.
Thank someone that the only books that burned were the ones in the front of the shop. If the fire had spread any further it could have taken the entire collection. Still, why such a small fire had scared the angel to move in with him, along with all his books, was beyond him.
It was likely because his flat was more or less fireproof.
He winched his wings in, knowing they would be a pain wet, but feeling that they may be less cramped if he let them stay out. It would help with the muscles. He could treat himself to some grooming later, or a massage.
Aziraphale was at the table, a crossword book in front of him, slowly chewing at the end of a pen. "I’m home," he stated, before heading straight for the bathroom, undoing his belt along the way. He had forgone wearing a shirt, knowing that it would have been wrecked when he had let his wings out.
His pants were soon joined by the belt on the floor of the bathroom, before he closed the door(4) and turned on the taps, waiting for the water to heat up to just the right temperature.
Slipping under the blast of hot water begun to soothe his aches and let him relax a bit more than he would truly like to. Being a demon called for at least a little bit of paranoia after all. It felt good though to let go of some of the tension that had been building in him since the fire.
He turned round, letting his head lean against the wall, an arm supporting it there. He took a deep breath and decided if there was ever a good time it was now, when he was at least partially alone in his flat. The sound of the water would also muffle any sound he may make, but he was determined to be quiet. The last thing he needed was Aziraphale coming in here while he was...
A blush slowly began to creep over his face. He blamed it on the temperature of the water, though he knew he was trying to delude himself. This was awkward enough as it was. With a slight clearing of his throat, he let the hand that wasn’t supporting his head against the wall to wander down his body.
He had only done this twice before. The first time had been an experiment, when he had gotten his first fully functioning human body. He just couldn’t help but try out all its abilities, and while he had enjoyed it greatly, he just didn’t see the point in doing it regularly. He rather enjoyed the simple pleasure of sleep better.
The second time he had been the participant of a rather graphic type of movie. If one was lucky, they could still find the video and be dazzled by his rather flexible body. And of course, then it had mostly been shots that were below the belt. His hand had been the star for that one.
Aziraphale had never shown the least amount of sexual interest in him, and while he was trying to hide from the angel that he was feeling things he really shouldn’t be feeling, he was one to think he would know if Aziraphale thought such things back. He was good at sniffing out lust a mile away.
Speaking of things not meant to be felt; he shivered and bit his arm to stop the silly noises he was beginning to make as what he was doing began to feel more than just a little good. He knew as his hips began moving with the movement of his hand that this had been the wrong thing to do. He wouldn’t be able to stop.
He hunched forward, trying to find some support other than his arm on the wall, but not finding it. He looked down, not necessarily to watch what his hand was doing but so to be more... comfortable with his current position. As soon as he spotted what he was doing, he screwed his eyes shut but completely lost control of his body. His knees went weak, his back arched backwards, along with his head and he let out a strangled cry. His whole world had just exploded.
His feet moved slightly and to his surprise he fell backwards, having slipped on the wet floor and he found himself sitting in a daze for a few minutes. It took him that long to realise someone was banging on the door calling out his name.
"Crowley? Are you alright," Aziraphale asked, his voice sounding a bit worried.
Crowley cleared his throat again. "Yeah, I slipped. Stupid me. And ow." At least his voice was steady. His ankle wouldn’t support him though. Damn, he must have twisted it.
"I’m coming in," Aziraphale stated, opening up the door and peeking his head towards him.
Crowley glared at him, glad that his body had calmed down and didn’t seem to be in the mood for a repeat performance. He managed to heave himself to his feet, not putting any pressure on the one that hurt, thankful the water had gotten rid of the evidence of what he had just been doing and turned off the taps.
He grabbed the nearest towel, wrapping it around his waist, and scowled. "It was a stupid thing to do. I think I may have twisted something..." He rubbed angrily at his right foot, trying to stop the ache.
Aziraphale walked around him and reached to heal the appendage. Crowley jerked out of the way. "I would be a whole lot more comfortable with clothes on angel, or at least pants. You can look at my ankle afterwards."
With that said, he limped out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. He went through his clothes, until he had found a pair of tracksuit pants(5) and put them on.
If he was going to have his body reacting he would like to have something loose on to try and hide it from Aziraphale. He sat down on the edge of his bed.
The angel walked up to him, kneeling on the floor between his legs. Warm hands began to explore the area he hurt. He hissed in pain and started slightly as those fingers found the sprain.
"There, you’ll be fine. What happened anyway?"
"Slipped on some water," he mumbled into his hands, where his head lay. Once Aziraphale had done with healing the small injury, he was too sleepy to think of doing anything else. He hadn’t been getting enough sleep lately and his body had slowly become dependent on it throughout the years.
His dreams were pleasant that night, and didn’t leave him waking up after having a nightmare, neither was he all sticky as was becoming irritatingly normal for him. Aziraphale must have gotten him into bed, as when he woke up feeling more refreshed than he had in days, he was tucked in nice and snug and decided that if this was to become a regular occurrence, at least it was a nice one.
* * * *
One good thing that had come out of the fire was Aziraphale’s desire to read had died a bit. He still got lost in books, but not as often, or as long. Crowley thought it was because he couldn’t enjoy the books that had been burned any longer and it had dampened his spirit slightly.
Never even thinking it possible, he was truly beginning to worry whenever Aziraphale did anything other than read. The angel spent an uncanny amount of time staring out a window, looking off into the direction of his shop. And the stubborn being refused, refused, to go back and see what was left from the shop.
After all, it was only one little part that had burnt, but it was also the part that Aziraphale had kept the books Wilde had given him. Aziraphale had been very fond of Wilde. Crowley was now beginning to realise that he had been insanely jealous, and Aziraphale still hadn’t told him if the relationship the two of them had was sexual or not. He hoped not.
Crowley shook his head as he watched the angel eating the toast he had made for breakfast. Yawning widely, he reached for the marmalade and his fingers brushed lightly against Aziraphale’s. It sent bolts of electric-like energy flowing through him and he shivered before he could control himself. Thankfully the angel hadn’t noticed. Crowley frowned. How could Aziraphale not have noticed anything by now?
The relief at not being spotted yet was becoming a bit annoying. In fact, it was beginning to get him angry instead. Was Aziraphale really that dense? Was he really hiding it that well? Did he want to start anything with his counterpart that might upset their friendship if it didn’t end well?
Slowly eating his toast, he rubbed at his temple with his free hand and decided he needed to get out of the flat for a bit. He had only left that one day to go flying, and that had been a week ago now. He had been staying in the flat mainly for Aziraphale’s sake. It was pathetic really, this worrying.
"Let’s do something today. I am getting bored of the flat," he stated, after finishing off his breakfast. "We could go feed the ducks? Haven’t done that in a while..."
With a quaint little nod, Aziraphale agreed, but hesitated at the door when they had been about to leave.
"Crowley... I want, no need, to see the shop I can’t stand this any more. But I’m afraid of what I might find."
Draping an arm over Aziraphale’s shoulder, the demon smiled and nodded. The relief that had fled come rushing back to him at Aziraphale’s words. Finally it seemed the angel was ready to go on without his precious books. "Sure. You want to go there first, or to the park?"
"Do you mind terribly stopping by the shop first? I just want to see it. See what is gone, what can be repaired, that sort of thing."
"Nah, I don’t mind. Come on, I’ll drive you over there now."
The drive only lasted a few minutes, but Crowley could see that it felt a lot longer to the angel sitting beside him. Aziraphale had been unconsciously squirming since they had gotten into the Bentley, and it was grating on his nerves.
"Aziraphale…please stop moving, you are giving me a headache," he said, rubbing at his forehead where he felt the beginning of just what he said. With a small apology Aziraphale tried to stop but was at it again in a few seconds. Crowley sighed, shook his head and let it go. Obviously, the angel was much too concerned with what he will find to follow orders today.
Well, at least it was better than the listlessness the angel had been showing since this whole mess began.
The shop was still standing, and thanks to the shields Aziraphale had put up around the building, hadn’t yet been looted. It was only a matter of time though. Crowley wondered how much a book in Aziraphale’s shop would sell for. Even though most left behind were not the ones the angel treasured. They were safely back at his apartment, stacked in the spare bedroom.
They got out of the car and stood out front of the bookshop until with a deep breath Aziraphale marched forward and opened the door, the bell jingling merrily from its usual place. It had always annoyed Crowley, as it always gave him away, well, unless Aziraphale had been stuck in his own little fantasy world of Bibles, prophesies and/or Wilde.
"Oh!" shouted the angel, rushing forwards. The section that had Aziraphale worried about the most was hardly touched, though the fire had begun to spread there. Falling to his knees, Aziraphale began to touch each book, opening them up, checking the spines for damage. Some had been burnt, but not so far as to be unsalvageable by someone who could heal almost anything. If the books had been utterly destroyed like Aziraphale had feared then they would have been lost.
To Crowley’s shocked embarrassment, Aziraphale began to get weepy over the books. "Er, angel, the books are fine. You don’t need to cry over them," he said, his voice slow as if trying to get the point across. Aziraphale always found some way to embarrass him. At least this time no one was around to see.
There was no answer, so Crowley gave him a small pat on the shoulder, not knowing how to comfort someone well, and went to wait by the car.
After a few minutes the back seat of the Bentley was filled with neatly piled books. With a roll of his eyes, Crowley opened the passenger side door, and it was filled with angel after a few seconds as Aziraphale stepped outside and to his usual spot in the car.
He shut the door and hopped in behind the steering wheel side, happy that Aziraphale seemed alright now. Hell, he was even happy that the books weren’t completely lost. The drive to the park was quiet, but a much calmer place to be in than the journey to the shop.
"I will have to go back sometime soon you know? I can’t just keep invading your home like I am, and I know now that the damage wasn’t too severe and can be fixed. Most of the books burnt beyond repair were ones I didn’t favour too much anyway. Not that I don’t dread the thought of books burning," Aziraphale stated, as they sat down on a bench in St James Park, a loaf of bread sitting between them as they noticed the ducks, so used to them, come to sniff the ground at their feet.
Aziraphale happily began to tear tiny bits off the slices and gave them over to the hungry birds. Crowley, just glad that everything seemed to be on the right track again, let himself watch with a slight smile on his face. He let his arm rest on the back of the seat, his hand going for Aziraphale’s shoulder. It put them so that they were sitting almost in each others laps, but that was fine by him.
He froze a little when Aziraphale leant into the touch and laid his head on his shoulder, but soon calmed. It was completely comfortable, despite the rather wooden chairs, and the awkward angle. He let his head drop to rest on top of Aziraphale’s. The angel let out a happy sigh.
It surprised Crowley to hear that. While touch was part of their normal routine, it had never been this intimate before, and those small touches were usually enough to get him in trouble of some kind. To have Aziraphale enjoy this as much as he did made him feel all warm inside.
With a small happy sigh of his own, he let his head leave its place on dusty hair and looked down. You know I like you right? I mean... in more than just a friendly way?”
Blue eyes looked up at him, and he could see he was being smiled at. "Of course." That head moved to make both of them more comfortable, but it blocked his view of the angel’s eyes. "You should know that I do too. I mean, like you that way. I have for a long time. I only realised that you returned my feelings only recently."
Crowley laughed at that. He felt like he was flying or some such thing. He felt all light.
"I’m so glad you let me do this."
It was a mutual thing. They were both glad really.
As Aziraphale let his head lean back so he could kiss full lips, he felt a contentment that he hadn’t in a very long time. It was like a tiny piece of Heaven was given back to him, and it was just the part he liked.
* * * *
(1) He wanted to annoy Aziraphale. It was always fun to do so.
(2) Thankfully the weather didn’t enter the picture. You could only talk about English weather so many times, before the conversation turned to just “So, how about the weather? Rainy isn’t it?” And that got a bit boring after a while.
(3) They would damn well walk back to the club. He wasn’t leaving his precious car around those hooligans.
(4) Give the angel a glimpse at what he was missing.
(5) Dark green instead of his normal black, he used them for gardening purposes.
Gift for: 7timesfate
Author: malicehaughton
Rating: R
7timesfate requested: A/C-- focus on A's love of books, C discovers his interest in A, A is oblivious, reference to Queen mandatory; C gets A into something leather, chaos ensues; shower fic; or any combo of A/C prompts.
As was usual for the angel, Crowley spied him reading one of his blessed books as he entered the back room and sat down at the table. There was truly no sense in trying to get him to stop when he was in this deeply. It would just mean he would get glared at for being a pest.
Slightly angry at finding Aziraphale in such a mood, Crowley saw no other choices other than leave and have dinner on his own, or stare at the angel, hoping to change his mind about the book. Neither was really in his interest. What he wanted to do was yank the book out of perfectly manicured hands, put it down far away and treat Aziraphale to a nice filling meal.
"Be with you in a minute, dear," Aziraphale stated, as he quickly wrote something down on a notepad by the book that Crowley only just noticed. So, it was one of those books. Crowley relaxed. Books of prophecy were favourites of the angel, as were bibles, but since the Apocalypse that almost happened, the prophecy books didn’t hold as much interest, but Aziraphale still worked diligently on them to figure out the inner meanings.
He figured it had something to do with getting his hands on the one book that had every prophecy come true go through his hands. It must take some of the fun out of it.
The pen went down to lie in its spot by the writing pad and Aziraphale stretched before getting to his feet. "Would you like some tea? Cocoa? Wine?"
With a smirk, Crowley shook his head. "Come on angel, I’m taking you out. First to get something to eat. I was thinking Thai tonight, and then off to have some fun."
Seeing the wary look come into the angel’s eyes at the way he had said fun, made his day. Honestly, he had said it like that so many times, and Aziraphale always thought the worst. One day he would have to take him to an orgy or something utterly ridiculous like that just to see the look on his face. The thought made him chuckle.
"Don’t worry. No place that bad. Just thought of going to a pub, or club. Somewhere where there is a decent bar."
"Oh, well, that’s alright then," Aziraphale replied to his suggestion, before grabbing his coat and heading towards the door.
Glad that everything was once again going his way, he closed the door behind the angel and opened the passenger side door. He got a smile and a nod for his trouble.
He almost shut off the music when the first thing he heard was "Crazy Little Thing Called Love." The last song he had been listening to had been on the radio after all, which was usually blissfully free of Queen. So, why was he listening to it now? Hitting the eject button, he raised an eyebrow at the sight of no tape.
Figures. Thinking of a nice night out with Aziraphale where some modern music younger than Queen was playing(1) he hadn’t expected this. Meatloaf played after that, the song "I’d Do Anything for Love." With a sigh as Aziraphale began to smile at the song lyrics, he decided to let it go.
Going soft. Too many years around humans, that had to be it. Yeah.
* * * *
The dinner passed by uneventfully, as they had talked about trivial things(2) before they left to go to a club that Crowley had spotted on their way to dinner. It had looked like his kind of place really. Lots of flashing lights and people dressed either in leather or barely anything at all. He saw Aziraphale squirm in his seat, and just knew he was about to protest.
Before he could, Crowley snapped his fingers and Aziraphale was sitting beside him wearing a leather outfit. Crowley was too busy parking his car a mile away from the club(3) to notice what Aziraphale looked like, but the moment he opened the door to see what the angel looked like, he was glad he hadn’t changed his own clothes as his body immediately reacted in a wholly unexpected way.
He only managed to curb the urge to look down. If he had, he would probably have to change his clothes regardless. Aziraphale wearing all black, a snug looking t-shirt and a leather jacket was just a little bit more than arousing, it was almost orgasmic. It was that unexpected a sight. He had thought Aziraphale would change his clothes back.
"Wow, you look more than good in this outfit Aziraphale."
He was frowned at by the long suffering angel. "I feel ridiculous, Crowley. Is this necessary?"
"Just this once angel, I promise." He wished he wasn’t, but he would. Aziraphale wouldn’t allow it again anyway, he just knew it.
His eyes slipped down to the tight leather pants and he quickly removed his eyes from that place and towards the club. He wouldn’t change his clothes after all. At least he was wearing all black, and he could always make the humans inside think he was wearing leather.
The thought of being seen so aroused was embarrassing him, and he had no idea why. Perhaps he had been hanging around with angels too long. Either way, he shook his head, made sure that he wasn’t showing his current state in any way although it is quite common in these kinds of clubs and made his way inside, Aziraphale tagging along beside him.
By the time he had his third drink, he didn’t bother hiding anything. He changed his clothes and spotted Aziraphale looking at him strangely. He smiled a bit lopsidedly, a little drunk, and grabbed hold of him, dragging the angel to the dance floor, rubbing their bodies together in the most intimate gesture he had ever done with anything in his life.
Aziraphale said he didn’t dance, but he danced that night like a modern wild thing. By the time they had sobered up and were getting into the car, both of them were smiling and full of good cheer. And he wasn’t the only one in the Bentley aroused now.
He had hoped that the good feeling would last for at least a few days, but it fled immediately as they got onto Aziraphale’s street and saw the bookshop in flames. Crowley had parked in front of the shop, jumped out and ran in there to see the damage. Not much of the store was on fire, and it hadn’t yet reached the back rooms where the really valuable stuff lived, but the shop was as familiar to him as his own flat, more so even.
He grabbed the fire extinguisher the angel had installed just in case and used it, before going back out and telling Aziraphale that it was only the first few stacks at the front of the shop and the desk holding his computer that had gone up in flames.
The shop was almost instantly empty of books. The ones at the front of the store were left there to smoulder. Crowley winced, as he remembered that Aziraphale’s Wilde collection had lived in that part of the store.
"Come on. You can stay at my place."
He didn’t set a day for Aziraphale to go home.
* * * *
There was one tiny little problem with Aziraphale living in his flat with him. Well, there were several, but the biggest one was that Crowley had just discovered something. Well, several somethings. One, the angel was a wreck without his books. Aziraphale had gotten into the habit of locking himself in the spare bedroom and not coming out for long periods of time.
The other problem, and this was the big one, was that every time he saw Aziraphale, he started getting all weak-kneed and light headed and his heart started ramming in his chest with what felt like the power to almost jump right out. Parts of his body rarely in use decided to work without the effort usually required and all this while Aziraphale was wearing his normal out of date clothing. While in the leather, he could understand but this…this was ridiculous.
There was something wrong with him, he just knew it.
Seeing the fire in the bookshop had also given him nightmares. Aziraphale had invaded his bedroom some nights after he had woken up after visions of flame and suffering. He was also having odd flashes of something he had forgotten, something about the end of the world, in which the bookshop had been completely burnt down around him and Aziraphale being discorporated.
He didn’t want Aziraphale gone like that again. He had gotten comfortable with the body the angel was inhabiting now and couldn’t imagine him any other way. Not that Aziraphale wouldn’t be beautiful to him no matter what...form...
"Beautiful?" he whispered to himself as he lay in his bed one night shortly after the fire, thinking of his problem. He closed his eyes and groaned with horror. "Oh no! How could that have happened?"
He had a crush. And by the way his body was reacting it wasn’t just a small one either. And yet it seemed Aziraphale was oblivious to the fact. If Hell ever got wind of this, he would be a laughing stock for the rest of eternity, not that he wasn’t any way but still... a crush on an angel!
He was determined to get over it, and fast.
* * * *
Living with an angel that you had a major crush on was not an easy arrangement as Crowley soon discovered. His dreams had gone from nightmares to erotic acts that had him waking up screaming anyway. He knew Aziraphale worried over them, but he had told the angel that he was used to nightmares now, and that they would pass as soon as the present situation had ended.
Aziraphale didn’t realize that at the moment he was the present situation, and it was driving him to distraction.
He had gone flying that afternoon with the hopes that the cold air would cool down his libido a bit. All it had done was make him sweaty, sore and tired. But he did feel better for it. It had been such a long time since last he had flown that he had stayed in the air too long and his wing, chest and back muscles were hurting.
What he needed was a long hot bath to soak in. Too bad he didn’t have a bath, only a shower. He would truly have to fix that problem, and while he would like to conjure one up, with the angel around right now it wasn’t a good idea. Especially since Aziraphale easily got angry over small things since the accident.
Thank someone that the only books that burned were the ones in the front of the shop. If the fire had spread any further it could have taken the entire collection. Still, why such a small fire had scared the angel to move in with him, along with all his books, was beyond him.
It was likely because his flat was more or less fireproof.
He winched his wings in, knowing they would be a pain wet, but feeling that they may be less cramped if he let them stay out. It would help with the muscles. He could treat himself to some grooming later, or a massage.
Aziraphale was at the table, a crossword book in front of him, slowly chewing at the end of a pen. "I’m home," he stated, before heading straight for the bathroom, undoing his belt along the way. He had forgone wearing a shirt, knowing that it would have been wrecked when he had let his wings out.
His pants were soon joined by the belt on the floor of the bathroom, before he closed the door(4) and turned on the taps, waiting for the water to heat up to just the right temperature.
Slipping under the blast of hot water begun to soothe his aches and let him relax a bit more than he would truly like to. Being a demon called for at least a little bit of paranoia after all. It felt good though to let go of some of the tension that had been building in him since the fire.
He turned round, letting his head lean against the wall, an arm supporting it there. He took a deep breath and decided if there was ever a good time it was now, when he was at least partially alone in his flat. The sound of the water would also muffle any sound he may make, but he was determined to be quiet. The last thing he needed was Aziraphale coming in here while he was...
A blush slowly began to creep over his face. He blamed it on the temperature of the water, though he knew he was trying to delude himself. This was awkward enough as it was. With a slight clearing of his throat, he let the hand that wasn’t supporting his head against the wall to wander down his body.
He had only done this twice before. The first time had been an experiment, when he had gotten his first fully functioning human body. He just couldn’t help but try out all its abilities, and while he had enjoyed it greatly, he just didn’t see the point in doing it regularly. He rather enjoyed the simple pleasure of sleep better.
The second time he had been the participant of a rather graphic type of movie. If one was lucky, they could still find the video and be dazzled by his rather flexible body. And of course, then it had mostly been shots that were below the belt. His hand had been the star for that one.
Aziraphale had never shown the least amount of sexual interest in him, and while he was trying to hide from the angel that he was feeling things he really shouldn’t be feeling, he was one to think he would know if Aziraphale thought such things back. He was good at sniffing out lust a mile away.
Speaking of things not meant to be felt; he shivered and bit his arm to stop the silly noises he was beginning to make as what he was doing began to feel more than just a little good. He knew as his hips began moving with the movement of his hand that this had been the wrong thing to do. He wouldn’t be able to stop.
He hunched forward, trying to find some support other than his arm on the wall, but not finding it. He looked down, not necessarily to watch what his hand was doing but so to be more... comfortable with his current position. As soon as he spotted what he was doing, he screwed his eyes shut but completely lost control of his body. His knees went weak, his back arched backwards, along with his head and he let out a strangled cry. His whole world had just exploded.
His feet moved slightly and to his surprise he fell backwards, having slipped on the wet floor and he found himself sitting in a daze for a few minutes. It took him that long to realise someone was banging on the door calling out his name.
"Crowley? Are you alright," Aziraphale asked, his voice sounding a bit worried.
Crowley cleared his throat again. "Yeah, I slipped. Stupid me. And ow." At least his voice was steady. His ankle wouldn’t support him though. Damn, he must have twisted it.
"I’m coming in," Aziraphale stated, opening up the door and peeking his head towards him.
Crowley glared at him, glad that his body had calmed down and didn’t seem to be in the mood for a repeat performance. He managed to heave himself to his feet, not putting any pressure on the one that hurt, thankful the water had gotten rid of the evidence of what he had just been doing and turned off the taps.
He grabbed the nearest towel, wrapping it around his waist, and scowled. "It was a stupid thing to do. I think I may have twisted something..." He rubbed angrily at his right foot, trying to stop the ache.
Aziraphale walked around him and reached to heal the appendage. Crowley jerked out of the way. "I would be a whole lot more comfortable with clothes on angel, or at least pants. You can look at my ankle afterwards."
With that said, he limped out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. He went through his clothes, until he had found a pair of tracksuit pants(5) and put them on.
If he was going to have his body reacting he would like to have something loose on to try and hide it from Aziraphale. He sat down on the edge of his bed.
The angel walked up to him, kneeling on the floor between his legs. Warm hands began to explore the area he hurt. He hissed in pain and started slightly as those fingers found the sprain.
"There, you’ll be fine. What happened anyway?"
"Slipped on some water," he mumbled into his hands, where his head lay. Once Aziraphale had done with healing the small injury, he was too sleepy to think of doing anything else. He hadn’t been getting enough sleep lately and his body had slowly become dependent on it throughout the years.
His dreams were pleasant that night, and didn’t leave him waking up after having a nightmare, neither was he all sticky as was becoming irritatingly normal for him. Aziraphale must have gotten him into bed, as when he woke up feeling more refreshed than he had in days, he was tucked in nice and snug and decided that if this was to become a regular occurrence, at least it was a nice one.
* * * *
One good thing that had come out of the fire was Aziraphale’s desire to read had died a bit. He still got lost in books, but not as often, or as long. Crowley thought it was because he couldn’t enjoy the books that had been burned any longer and it had dampened his spirit slightly.
Never even thinking it possible, he was truly beginning to worry whenever Aziraphale did anything other than read. The angel spent an uncanny amount of time staring out a window, looking off into the direction of his shop. And the stubborn being refused, refused, to go back and see what was left from the shop.
After all, it was only one little part that had burnt, but it was also the part that Aziraphale had kept the books Wilde had given him. Aziraphale had been very fond of Wilde. Crowley was now beginning to realise that he had been insanely jealous, and Aziraphale still hadn’t told him if the relationship the two of them had was sexual or not. He hoped not.
Crowley shook his head as he watched the angel eating the toast he had made for breakfast. Yawning widely, he reached for the marmalade and his fingers brushed lightly against Aziraphale’s. It sent bolts of electric-like energy flowing through him and he shivered before he could control himself. Thankfully the angel hadn’t noticed. Crowley frowned. How could Aziraphale not have noticed anything by now?
The relief at not being spotted yet was becoming a bit annoying. In fact, it was beginning to get him angry instead. Was Aziraphale really that dense? Was he really hiding it that well? Did he want to start anything with his counterpart that might upset their friendship if it didn’t end well?
Slowly eating his toast, he rubbed at his temple with his free hand and decided he needed to get out of the flat for a bit. He had only left that one day to go flying, and that had been a week ago now. He had been staying in the flat mainly for Aziraphale’s sake. It was pathetic really, this worrying.
"Let’s do something today. I am getting bored of the flat," he stated, after finishing off his breakfast. "We could go feed the ducks? Haven’t done that in a while..."
With a quaint little nod, Aziraphale agreed, but hesitated at the door when they had been about to leave.
"Crowley... I want, no need, to see the shop I can’t stand this any more. But I’m afraid of what I might find."
Draping an arm over Aziraphale’s shoulder, the demon smiled and nodded. The relief that had fled come rushing back to him at Aziraphale’s words. Finally it seemed the angel was ready to go on without his precious books. "Sure. You want to go there first, or to the park?"
"Do you mind terribly stopping by the shop first? I just want to see it. See what is gone, what can be repaired, that sort of thing."
"Nah, I don’t mind. Come on, I’ll drive you over there now."
The drive only lasted a few minutes, but Crowley could see that it felt a lot longer to the angel sitting beside him. Aziraphale had been unconsciously squirming since they had gotten into the Bentley, and it was grating on his nerves.
"Aziraphale…please stop moving, you are giving me a headache," he said, rubbing at his forehead where he felt the beginning of just what he said. With a small apology Aziraphale tried to stop but was at it again in a few seconds. Crowley sighed, shook his head and let it go. Obviously, the angel was much too concerned with what he will find to follow orders today.
Well, at least it was better than the listlessness the angel had been showing since this whole mess began.
The shop was still standing, and thanks to the shields Aziraphale had put up around the building, hadn’t yet been looted. It was only a matter of time though. Crowley wondered how much a book in Aziraphale’s shop would sell for. Even though most left behind were not the ones the angel treasured. They were safely back at his apartment, stacked in the spare bedroom.
They got out of the car and stood out front of the bookshop until with a deep breath Aziraphale marched forward and opened the door, the bell jingling merrily from its usual place. It had always annoyed Crowley, as it always gave him away, well, unless Aziraphale had been stuck in his own little fantasy world of Bibles, prophesies and/or Wilde.
"Oh!" shouted the angel, rushing forwards. The section that had Aziraphale worried about the most was hardly touched, though the fire had begun to spread there. Falling to his knees, Aziraphale began to touch each book, opening them up, checking the spines for damage. Some had been burnt, but not so far as to be unsalvageable by someone who could heal almost anything. If the books had been utterly destroyed like Aziraphale had feared then they would have been lost.
To Crowley’s shocked embarrassment, Aziraphale began to get weepy over the books. "Er, angel, the books are fine. You don’t need to cry over them," he said, his voice slow as if trying to get the point across. Aziraphale always found some way to embarrass him. At least this time no one was around to see.
There was no answer, so Crowley gave him a small pat on the shoulder, not knowing how to comfort someone well, and went to wait by the car.
After a few minutes the back seat of the Bentley was filled with neatly piled books. With a roll of his eyes, Crowley opened the passenger side door, and it was filled with angel after a few seconds as Aziraphale stepped outside and to his usual spot in the car.
He shut the door and hopped in behind the steering wheel side, happy that Aziraphale seemed alright now. Hell, he was even happy that the books weren’t completely lost. The drive to the park was quiet, but a much calmer place to be in than the journey to the shop.
"I will have to go back sometime soon you know? I can’t just keep invading your home like I am, and I know now that the damage wasn’t too severe and can be fixed. Most of the books burnt beyond repair were ones I didn’t favour too much anyway. Not that I don’t dread the thought of books burning," Aziraphale stated, as they sat down on a bench in St James Park, a loaf of bread sitting between them as they noticed the ducks, so used to them, come to sniff the ground at their feet.
Aziraphale happily began to tear tiny bits off the slices and gave them over to the hungry birds. Crowley, just glad that everything seemed to be on the right track again, let himself watch with a slight smile on his face. He let his arm rest on the back of the seat, his hand going for Aziraphale’s shoulder. It put them so that they were sitting almost in each others laps, but that was fine by him.
He froze a little when Aziraphale leant into the touch and laid his head on his shoulder, but soon calmed. It was completely comfortable, despite the rather wooden chairs, and the awkward angle. He let his head drop to rest on top of Aziraphale’s. The angel let out a happy sigh.
It surprised Crowley to hear that. While touch was part of their normal routine, it had never been this intimate before, and those small touches were usually enough to get him in trouble of some kind. To have Aziraphale enjoy this as much as he did made him feel all warm inside.
With a small happy sigh of his own, he let his head leave its place on dusty hair and looked down. You know I like you right? I mean... in more than just a friendly way?”
Blue eyes looked up at him, and he could see he was being smiled at. "Of course." That head moved to make both of them more comfortable, but it blocked his view of the angel’s eyes. "You should know that I do too. I mean, like you that way. I have for a long time. I only realised that you returned my feelings only recently."
Crowley laughed at that. He felt like he was flying or some such thing. He felt all light.
"I’m so glad you let me do this."
It was a mutual thing. They were both glad really.
As Aziraphale let his head lean back so he could kiss full lips, he felt a contentment that he hadn’t in a very long time. It was like a tiny piece of Heaven was given back to him, and it was just the part he liked.
* * * *
(1) He wanted to annoy Aziraphale. It was always fun to do so.
(2) Thankfully the weather didn’t enter the picture. You could only talk about English weather so many times, before the conversation turned to just “So, how about the weather? Rainy isn’t it?” And that got a bit boring after a while.
(3) They would damn well walk back to the club. He wasn’t leaving his precious car around those hooligans.
(4) Give the angel a glimpse at what he was missing.
(5) Dark green instead of his normal black, he used them for gardening purposes.