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Aziraphale and Crowley were dining at the Ritz on yet another lovely night in London. They had reason to dine there as often as they did; it was comfortable, the atmosphere was pleasant, both food and drink were delectable.
In some ways, it was more than just a restaurant. It was a reminder that the Earth was still spinning and that things between them were well and good.
This wasn't a place Crowley would come alone, though anywhere he could be with Aziraphale was a place he enjoyed, especially if Aziraphale was fond of it himself. The angel surely loved human pleasures, food being the main one. Crowley didn't eat as much as Aziraphale did, in fact there were centuries he'd gone without eating at all, though he did always appreciate a cup of tea or coffee and more than anything he relished the alcohol. Oh, how he relished the alcohol...
Aziraphale was finishing off his plate of Crêpes Suzette, which had been prepared at the table and had delighted the angel (of course, it was food-related and anything food-related very often did delight Aziraphale). As always, the light-being moaned and groaned his way through nearly each bite, sighing with pleasure; eyes fluttering shut as he savored the taste.
Something about the way Aziraphale ate intrigued Crowley. There was nothing the angel seemed to enjoy more than taste and he hadn't held back on what he'd ordered that night. Crowley didn't think any human would have been able to stomach all that Aziraphale had consumed, and the demon came to thinking about how gluttony was one of the seven deadly sins and it brought a smile to his face. He was quite proud.
Aziraphale took one last bite and then he voiced his satisfaction before patting his mouth with a napkin.
Though he could have easily used a miracle to get by, Crowley reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet and paid. It had amounted to nearly £400 but that was nothing he couldn't afford and there were times he did enjoy doing things the more human way.
"What shall we do, now?" asked Aziraphale, as the two stood up from the table and headed for the exit. Crowley's brows immediately shot up.
"You want to... head to my place... do a bit of... mm?" he asked, looking over at Aziraphale through his dark sunglasses. He had a look on his face that said he knew exactly what he wanted and that he might even have been waiting for quite some time for it.
Aziraphale tried to meet the demons gaze but found it useless. He instead looked along Crowley's wrinkling forehead, his pursing lips. They gave him more of an indication as to what Crowley was talking about, although all Aziraphale seemed to deduce was that it was something Crowley was particularly fond of. Aziraphale's brows furrowed in confusion. He was quite good with magic, that penny was always very close to Crowley's ear, but he was no mind reader.
"You know..." Crowley went on, softly, wiggling his head from side to side. Aziraphale looked at Crowley a bit longer as they crossed the street.
"Ah, of course!" exclaimed the angel, but he still looked unsure. "Drinking! Yes, I would rather like to have a glass or two, or several, of your most delicious Chateau Lafi--"
Crowley cut him off.
"No, no, no!" the demon cried. Aziraphale was truly intelligent, a genius even, yet somehow he never seemed to pick up on anything. It could be quite irritating when Crowley didn't want to have to spell everything out.
"Not that! Well, perhaps a little bit of that," the red-haired demon added quickly and quietly before he continued. "But s'not what I'm talking about."
Crowley looked over and he dipped his head slightly so that his eyes were peeking over his glasses and somewhat visible. He stared at Aziraphale, telling him without words exactly what it was he was thinking. The angel would certainly pick up on what he meant this time, he thought. They were connected in so many ways, after all.
Aziraphale only looked back, then from the Bentley they were nearing, to Crowley, and back again. Crowley couldn't tell whether Aziraphale was pretending to be stupid or if he was really just that stupid.
"You know, the thing we did last time..." Crowley said quietly as they reached the Bentley. He leaned over the roof of the automobile and looked at Aziraphale, waiting as patiently as he could manage.
Aziraphale still had the same perplexed look on his face.
"Oh, for the sake of everything..." Crowley said (some time ago he gave up on deciding whether to say "for God's sake" or "Satan's" and just settled for "everything") and he rolled his head along with his eyes very dramatically before he opened the door to the Bentley and got in. Aziraphale followed him into the car and was quiet for a moment.
"We..." he started, and Crowley watched with a big frown and a raised brow.
Finally, Aziraphale's face changed. His blue eyes widened and his pink lips parted.
"Oh," he said, followed by a louder "Oh!"
Crowley nodded intensely.
"Oh, you mean-- um... of course. THAT thing," Aziraphale said, and he let out a nervous laugh while looking from Crowley to the road and back again.
"Yeeesss, THAT thing," Crowley said, and his voice was more pleased this time, because finally Aziraphale had caught on and they were actually getting somewhere with the conversation.
"Your place, then?" asked Aziraphale, back straight and running his palms along his legs anxiously.
"My place," Crowley repeated. He started up the Bentley and immediately took off, which resulted in Aziraphale yelping and holding onto the seat.
"Unless you'd prefer the bookshop, this time. We've not done it there in a while," Crowley added.
Aziraphale took a moment to respond as he gained his bearings. He never got used to the way Crowley drove, whether he used miracles to prevent accidents or not.
"Ah, better not," he said once he was able to speak.
"Afraid your books will catch on?" Crowley asked, sarcastically.
"No," Aziraphale said, a tad defensively. A bit too defensively for it not to be true, Crowley thought.
"Rather, that's not the only reason," Aziraphale continued. Crowley smiled.
"It's just that... I feel this sort of... acitivity... should be done in private. Where there are no... prying eyes, you see," Aziraphale went on.
"Oh, it's nothing the humans haven't seen before. 'Sides, nobody ever goes to your bookshop anyways, you make sure of that, don't you?" asked the demon.
"Well, yes," Aziraphale admitted. "Still, I would much prefer it if we were to do this in your bedroom. If it wouldn't be too much of a bother."
"Course not, angel," Crowley responded. He didn't care where they did it, really, as long as they did it. "My bedroom it is."
---
After parking, both the angel and demon exited the Bentley and made their way to Crowley's flat.
Crowley snapped the front door open and then gestured with his hand for Aziraphale to step in. He really could be polite when he wanted to be. Or more like, he was naturally polite, but had usually tried (and often times failed) to fight that politeness off.
Aziraphale smiled, a truly sincere and grateful smile. Crowley's kindness always filled him with such a feeling of love.
"Thank you," Aziraphale said as he passed by.
Crowley could hardly contain his own smile, though he did try, and it came off looking quite tense and somehow angry. Perhaps because in a way, he was angry, that the angel seemed to have such a hold on him.
Crowley followed Aziraphale into the flat and he snapped the door shut behind him. As soon as it was closed, he began to undress. He removed his coat and vest, both of which automatically disappeared. Aziraphale stood in the middle of the room, watching Crowley with hands folded behind his back. Crowley looked Aziraphale up and down.
"Don't you ever get tired of wearing all that?" asked the demon, face scrunching. Aziraphale paused then took in his own appearance before looking up at Crowley.
"Don't you ever tire of wearing your sunglasses indoors?" the angel retorted, and if Crowley hadn't been frowning before, he surely was now (although he had indeed been frowning before, it just wasn't as noticeable).
Crowley brought his hand to his face and removed his glasses, glaring at Aziraphale as he went to drop them to the floor. He snapped before they hit and caused them to disappear.
"Much better," Aziraphale said, smiling. "There really is no need for them, after all. It's just the two of us."
Crowley only continued to glare. His irritation was evident and he looked tight and tense. He looked about ready to strike, much like a serpent indeed.
"I could say the same for you, wearing that blasted bowtie everywhere you go. I'm sick of seeing it," Crowley muttered. And it wasn't true, he had nothing against the bow tie, but he felt compelled to attack at least something.
"Well, I quite enjoy it and I don't plan on disposing of it very soon, so you might as well get used to it," Aziraphale responded and he brought his hands to his bow tie to straighten it out, as if to emphasize his point. Crowley snarled and strode over to Aziraphale, standing very close, looking down at him almost threateningly. Aziraphale didn't seem too frightened.
"I could send it away," Crowley hissed. "With a snap of my fingers, gone forever."
Aziraphale's eyes widened and his brows creased; now he looked frightened.
"You wouldn't!" he shouted and he covered his bow tie with his hand, protectively.
Crowley looked at Aziraphale and seeing the fear on the angel's face softened him. He sighed and quickly uttered:
"NoIwouldn't," before he passed him and instead walked straight over to his plants.
"WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT!" he hollered. They immediately leaned away from Crowley and began to shake.
"IT'D BE A LOT BETTER FOR YOU, IF YOU'D FOCUS A LITTLE MORE ON GROWING, AND A LITTLE LESS ON WHAT I'VE GOT ON!"
Aziraphale turned to watch Crowley and he had a look of disappointment on his face.
"Oh, come now, is that really necessary? You don't have to be cruel," he said.
"Oh, I do," Crowley replied as he misted the plants, looking them over with a hint of danger in his eyes. "And I will. DON'T THINK JUST BECAUSE THE ANGEL'S HERE THAT I HAVEN'T GOT MY EYE ON YOU!"
Aziraphale rolled his eyes and watched as Crowley set the mister down then walked over to him.
"Can't have them thinking I've gone soft, now, can I?" he whispered. "They'll rot the second I turn my back." Crowley turned around to given them another nasty look after saying the words, to be sure exactly that hadn't happened.
"Have you ever considered that perhaps they wouldn't spot at all if you'd give them, oh, I don't know. A bit of love?" Aziraphale inquired as Crowley lead him to his room. Crowley was already responding before he even finished saying the last word.
"No, nope, never considered it. Love, not even sure what that is, really," Crowley said, shaking his head back and forth as they passed through the door.
"Oh, Crowley, you know as well as I do that that's not true," Aziraphale said.
The bedroom was spacious and there was nothing in it except for a big bed with black sheets and a closet. It was dark and there was one window with black shades that kept all light out. It was nearly pitch dark and so Aziraphale snapped a light into place, dim and warm, just above their heads.
"No I don't," Crowley said, stubbornly. "I don't know anything."
Aziraphale wanted to come back with something just as snarky, Crowley nearly set himself up for that one. He thought to say 'Oh, isn't that the truth!' but the angel decided against it, because it quite simply wasn't. Crowley was intelligent in his own way.
"Oh yes, you most certainly do," Aziraphale said instead. A part of him wanted to hold back from saying more, though a bigger part felt it was absolutely necessary. Things were different now, neither of them had to play by the rules of Heaven or Hell. They could say what they were thinking, freely, without fear of consequence. Even so, it was proving to be quite difficult to get used to and Aziraphale had difficulty pushing past his discomfort.
"I... I have felt it," the angel stuttered and he looked away from Crowley. "I have felt your love and it is no less powerful than my own," he said, taking nervous a breath once having said the words. He then looked over at the demon, who met his gaze only momentarily.
"Oh, shut it," Crowley said though Aziraphale could sense a change in Crowley, a sort of vulnerability. Vulnerability because, deep down, Crowley knew it was fact. As a result, Aziraphale couldn't seem to hold back and he beamed brightly.
Crowley scrunched his face up in mockery, giving a ridiculous and fake smile, as he paced around the room, touching the sheets, the walls, opening and closing the closet door. He was restless, that much was clear, and Aziraphale knew what he was waiting for.
"So," the angel began. "Same as last time?"
Crowley turned around and looked at Aziraphale. All the white in his big, golden eyes were suddenly gone. He stared, unblinking, for a moment before he turned away as if uncomfortable. He tried to come off as cool, calm and relaxed though Aziraphale knew better.
"Mm, meh..." Crowley made a few odd noises as he so often did. "I dunno, I was..." he shook his head back and forth. "S'thinking that..."
The last time they'd done this sort of thing, Crowley had been the one to take charge, and it seemed, this time, he was looking for it to be the other way around. The demon was having some trouble with coming out and asking for it and so Aziraphale made it easy on him.
"Of course, dear," he said. Crowley stopped trying and was relieved that Aziraphale caught on faster this time.
The demon was still as the angel stepped closer until they were only a foot apart. Blue eyes met gold and they looked deeply at one another for a moment, Aziraphale smiling softly and Crowley swallowing past the sudden lump in his throat. Aziraphale extended his hand and Crowley gently took it in his own, then the two of them shut their eyes.
The physical contact was not entirely necessary, neither was shutting their eyes, but perhaps they'd been on Earth so long that things weren't as easy as they should have been. The contact helped Aziraphale find his way and shutting their eyes helped them to focus.
That which made Aziraphale all that he was, excluding his physical form (because that wasn't who he was, not really) slowly made its way to Crowley's through their joined hands. And, oh, what a feeling it was when the two of their energies merged.
Crowley instantly let out a noise, sounding both pleasured and startled, as Aziraphale drew in a sharp breath. The feeling was unlike any other; like a cool river running through a stream of molten lava. The difference was both shocking and exhilarating, and left their bodies tingling from head to toe. And that was only the physical aspect of it.
The deeper Aziraphale went, the stronger the connection and the more personal it became. More than just feeling good, it became emotionally satisfying and enlightening. There was no better way to connect and see the other for who they truly were.
Aziraphale had gone in far enough to be made aware of Crowley's thoughts and feelings. There weren't words, but there was a knowing. And at that moment, Aziraphale knew that Crowley felt very, very good; if the serpent were to speak, he would say it. 'Oh, that's good, that's so good'.
There was love as well that if spoken would come out as 'I love this', perhaps even 'I love you'. These were words that were unlikely to ever leave the demon's actual mouth, but Aziraphale could feel it all the same and that's all he truly needed. Knowing.
The angel took that moment to stop moving and point it out.
'What? What are you doing, why've you stopped?' Crowley questioned. Aziraphale sensed some irritation and also slight fear.
If Aziraphale were to speak, he'd have said most cheekily, 'Oh, would you look at that. Love! You know what it is, after all.'
'Alright, alright, I get it, just keep moving,' was Crowley's wordless response. Aziraphale felt that Crowley was eager and he obliged, quite satisfied with himself. He went in deeper, stroking lovingly and delicately. Crowley responded in the same fashion. Though they felt quite different in some ways, they were also very much the same. Love was love and when both the loving energies met, it was calming; soothing. It left the two feeling whole and complete. Aziraphale's body let out a contented sigh.
The angel then drove in even further, and made it to the point where Crowley's memories from the day became his own. He sifted through them gently and softly; very carefully.
He saw himself through Crowley's eyes. Earlier in the bookshop, when he'd been reading.
'You'd been watching?' asked Aziraphale, heart fluttering as he was made aware of the admiration in Crowley as he'd looked upon him.
'No,' Crowley lied, and he tried to push Aziraphale along, to divert his attention.
'You can't lie to me while I'm inside you, Crowley, I can feel everything,' Aziraphale responded. 'I'll have you know, I find it very sweet--'
'Shut up, I'm not sweet, not sweet at all,' Crowley thought. Aziraphale only sent Crowley the equivalent of what would have been a smile. He then continued on. He saw himself through Crowley's eyes, as they'd eaten at the Ritz just a short while ago and he felt the demon's fascination, his intrigue. All of it, so clear and exposed.
'Stop it, this is just embarrassing,' Crowley sent the message. Normally he'd not admit to it, but with Aziraphale inside his own consciousness, anything was impossible to hide. The angel felt him trying nonetheless. He felt his best response would be to show the demon his own love, to show him that he wasn't alone in it and that he had nothing to be embarrassed about.
He sent it out, all of his love for Crowley, powerful and intense, like a sudden surge of electricity. Aziraphale felt a jolt as a reaction from Crowley, as well as heard his physical body gasp and felt him tighten his grip on Aziraphale's hand.
It had been shocking for Crowley, over-whelming even, though Aziraphale felt that it was also craved, that it was all Crowley ever needed, all the demon had ever wanted. If they were speaking, Crowley would have demanded:
'More!'
Aziraphale had never gone beyond this point before; he usually withdrew, because if he did keep going, he'd have left his own body entirely and he worried about whether or not he'd find his way back. He also was still somewhat worried about Crowley's body exploding; what would they do if that happened while they were inside it? They weren't on good terms with Heaven or Hell, it wasn't like they could just go and do some paper work to get a new body. It could be disastrous.
'Come on, deeeeepeerrr!' Crowley would have hissed, impatiently. Aziraphale hesitated.
'Oh... oh, we shouldn't!' he replied regretfully.
'Angel, I won't explode! Don't you think if I was going to, it'd have happened by now?'
'Well, I don't know, it's not like I've ever done this before!'
'Our energies are not so different, it'll be fine. C'mon, I know you want to. I can feel it. Take the plunge, eh?' Crowley tempted.
Another hesitation.
'No,' was Aziraphale's response. 'If your body is to explode--'
Aziraphale was interrupted as Crowley slowly coaxed him in further. It would almost have been like taking one by the hand and pulling them along. Aziraphale had difficulty not allowing it. Crowley's energy became more and more powerful and the closeness and love and desire was difficult to turn away from. To be surrounded by Crowley was a pleasure better than anything, including the taste of food, and that was saying quite a lot.
'It won't,' thought Crowley. 'S'ides, if it does, we'll just head on over to yours!'
'As much as I enjoy this... unification, I would rather like to keep my body to myself on most occasions, thank you!'
'Oh, I wouldn't stay forever! Just until I found someone else to possess! Ooohh, you feel that? Sssssgetting better and better.'
Aziraphale couldn't deny that. He was nearing the center of all that made Crowley and they were oh so close to being made one, to having merged entirely, and Aziraphale was sick of pulling out prematurely...
Crowley continued to tug him along.
'All the way, angel, all the way. Fill every last bit of me,' thought Crowley and Aziraphale couldn't prevent it at that point. With a single thrust of his energy, Aziraphale left his own body, which fell to the floor, and instead joined with Crowley's.
Everything Crowley was, all he'd ever been, all he'd ever thought and felt hit Aziraphale all at once. Flashes upon flashes, endless attacks of different feelings (happy, angry, sad, confused) and forms (snake, demon, human, random and frightening creatures) and thoughts ("if ducks do have ears, what do they look like?") and memories (all the way from Eden to the current moment, all within seconds. He couldn't keep up with them all and the memory that stuck out the most was that which had only just happened before they'd merged.)
It felt like being in a mine-field and Aziraphale worried if they were indeed on the verge of exploding. He wanted to pull out, to go back into his own body, but with that last memory, he felt a pain so extreme that he couldn't bring himself to turn away from it. What had happened so recently that caused that much pain?
'Waitwaitwait,' Crowley panicked, and he didn't seem very pleased anymore.
Aziraphale saw his own angelic form through Crowley's eyes and he heard his own voice say "Don't you ever tire of wearing your sunglasses indoors?"
With it came a flood of unpleasant emotions. Less of a thought and more of a feeling. Hatred directed towards those eyes he wanted to hide, anger at Aziraphale for having brought it up. And though Crowley didn't realize it, Aziraphale came to understand why Crowley had then felt the need to chastise his plants. He wanted them to feel his own pain, associated with the fall. The plants were for him, what he was to God. It was his way of gaining control because he truly felt he'd had none.
Aziraphale nearly wept through Crowley's eyes. He wanted to heal that pain, to take it away. He went sorting through Crowley's memories, to the fall, so he could do just that.
'ANGEL,' Crowley warned. 'Don't you dare! Get out!'
'Oh, Crowley... this pain, it is... it is nearly unbearable. I couldn't leave, not now. I can help, if you'd let me.'
'I don't want your blasted help! Get out of my body!' cried Crowley.
Aziraphale sent Crowley an apology as he did just the opposite and inserted himself into that most painful memory.
'Aziraphale, you bastard!'
Aziraphale was suddenly in Heaven. Though his voice was not his own, it was Crowley's. A very bright, white light was shining down on him.
'You don't want them to eat it, right? If you don't want them to eat it, why would you put it right there in front of their faces like that?'
'It is what I have decided, Gadreel. They must be tested,' responded the powerful, booming voice of God.
'Gadreel?' thought Aziraphale.
'Stop it, get out, it's not important,' Crowley thought in response, though he was also given the answer because, just as before, Crowley could not hide the truth while Aziraphale was within him.
Gadreel. That's what Crowley had went by, before he was cast out. That had been Crowley's name, when he'd been an angel.
'Why must they be tested? I don't see the point in all of this,' asked Gadreel.
'I work in mysterious ways.'
'Mysterious? Seems a bit cruel, if you ask me.'
And that's all it had taken. Aziraphale experience the memory through Gadreel's body as he was suddenly pushed through the bottom of the white floor.
'Oh, oh no, nonono, waitwaitwaitwaitwait! God, wait! I didn't mean it! God! Listen, I was only joking! God!!! I can't fall, not me! I'm not like them--!"
And then he was cast out of Heaven and sent falling down to Earth, down to Hell.
It was painful to say the least; like being set aflame but without the sweet escape of death. His beautiful white wings were burning, literally on fire. Gadreel was screaming the entire, very long way down.
He was not only in pain physically but emotionally as well, because he didn't understand. Why would God do this to him? Did she not love him anymore? He had only asked a simple question and now he was being sent away in the most excruciating of ways. His entire energy went from cool and calm to scorching hot and chaotic, burning him up from the inside out. He was struck by feelings he'd never had before as an angel and it was all very overwhelming.
Aziraphale had difficulty staying in this memory; it was indeed agonizing, as he felt all that Crowley, or Gadreel, had felt as he fell.
'You idiot! Why would you do this! Neither of us want to feel this, you weren't supposed to come here!' thought Crowley.
Aziraphale didn't leave even then; instead, he let his own love shine brightly, trying as best he could to lessen Crowley's pain.
'Oh, my dear, you didn't deserve this,' thought Aziraphale, and it did help to heal Crowley's pain, even if only slightly.
And then Gadreel was in Hell. It smelled horrible, it was terrifying, it was dark and wet and entirely unpleasant, entirely different than Heaven. Quite literally the complete opposite.
He couldn't stand; he was on his belly, writhing about, trying to get up but feeling unnaturally heavy and consumed by pain. Back in Heaven, pains like this didn't exist, and you felt light as a feather.
'So you've decided to join us after all, Gadreel,' said a voice, and Gadreel raised his head to look up at none other than Lucifer.
'Ah, but you must go by another name, now. You are no longer of God. Get up, would you? You'll be of no use to us down there, crawling about.'
Beelzebub came around the corner and looked down at Gadreel.
'Crawley. That'll be his name. There, I've made it easy for you,' said the demon prince. And with that, with being given his new name, Gadreel's golden irises filled his entire eyes and his pupils went from circles to snake-like slits. It couldn't be seen, but it could be felt, and the memory jumped forward, to who-was-then-Crawley looking at his own reflection in horror.
'Well... that's that, then,' he'd said, looking into his own monstrous eyes and at his ash-black wings.
It was getting harder for Aziraphale to fight the darkness off the longer he stayed in that memory; it was like being attacked with all that was wretched, but he didn't let it win. He forced his light to shine bright and it encompassed the memory entirely, it encompassed every bit of Crowley's energy. The demon went from cursing and trying to push Aziraphale out and away, to something that felt similar to weeping and then finally, Crowley gave in.
'I didn't mean to fall, angel, I was like you once. I only asked questions, I only ever asked questions,' was the message Crowley sent. His warm energy swam around Aziraphale's, relishing in the pleasure that came with a love that was much needed. Crowley ached for the comfort. Yearned for the energy that made Aziraphale, which felt so much as he had as Gadreel. Aziraphale tenderly stroked along Crowley's consciousness.
'I know, my dear. I know,' was all Aziraphale thought as he comforted Crowley in the best way he could. Soon Crowley's energy died down and things settled. It became difficult to even tell the other apart they were so well matched. Finally one, entirely merged. They took pleasure in the feeling of one another for a good while before Aziraphale finally let Crowley know he was preparing to pull out. Aziraphale felt a slight resistance coming from Crowley, and then he was let go.
As Aziraphale began to withdrew, he thought:
'I've left my body.'
'You've left your body,' Crowley repeated.
'Well, could you...' Aziraphale started but he realized, he had control over Crowley's form while he was within him, and he could do it himself. He opened their eyes and looked down at his own form, lying there on the floor. He bent down and rested his hand on his own arm, and with that, he slowly made his way back into his own body.
Aziraphale gasped as he sat up, having separated from Crowley entirely. Crowley shook his head back and forth and stood up, seemingly dizzy. A few moments passed as they regained their composure and then they looked at one another.
Crowley was just staring, and his face held no expression. Aziraphale looked back, but couldn't seem to hold his gaze for as long. He looked down and away as he fixed his coat. Another moment of awkward silence passed before Aziraphale spoke.
"It really wasn't your fault, you know," he started but Crowley held up his hand.
"Sssh. Let's never speak of it again. In fact, let's pretend it never happened at all, actually," he said. And with that, a £1000 bottle of Château Lafite Rothschild suddenly appeared in his hand.
"Shall we?"