Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was raining when they landed.

His mom held his hand a little tighter and the gum he was chewing had long since lost its banana flavour, but he didn’t know to be nervous over something like a wet runway. He didn’t know the journey down the runway lasted longer than normal, nor did he hear the clapping of passengers when they finally slowed to a stop at their gate. He didn’t hear them or the captain over the music in his headphones.

As everyone around them began to rise and gather their things from the overhead compartments, he stuck his gum to the underside of the seat when mom wasn’t looking. When she laid a hand on his shoulder, he turned his music down but didn’t take the headphones off. He liked the muffled backdrop of the anonymous crowds vacating the plane.

Dad was already off by the time they made it to baggage claim, and mom scowled briefly before approaching him. They didn’t know he heard their argument, as he heard all their arguments. He was used to it by now. He was almost ten whole years old, and they’d been arguing probably longer than that. This time, it was about dad being selfish enough to demand and then accept the upgrade to first class when it was her family they were visiting and their son’s first time in England since he’d been a toddler.

Dad waved her off, glancing at his phone. “Honey, look, I used my air miles. It isn’t my fault the company wants me on flights so much, I racked up the points.”

“No, but you could have stayed in economy with Warlock and I.”

“Hon,” he protested, “it’s a seven hour flight.”

She didn’t have a chance to retort, instead turning towards baggage claim. Dad stepped up, and Warlock lifted one headphone off a single flopped ear. “Hey, bud, are you excited to be in London? A whole nother country. It’s fascinating, isn’t it?”

Warlock blew a bored bubble with his new gum. He really didn’t like when dad called him bud. It just sounded so fake, and it was totally embarrassing. “I guess.”

“And to think you were born here. We were staying with your mom’s cousin then, too. Antoine may be an omega, but he-”

“It’s Anthony,” mom corrected, setting one of the suitcases down with a huff, “and he prefers Crowley. You know that, Thad.”

“Right, right. Say, Harriet, is he-” His phone rang and, as usual, he quickly stepped away to answer.

Warlock and mom both pressed their lips together, but Warlock masked his disappointment by adjusting his headphones and turning his music up a click.

Eventually, mom got all the bags off the belt and they made their way to the rental facility with dad on his phone all the while. She talked to the agent, who kept glancing at the alpha chatting loudly on his phone beside her. She apologized for him six times - Warlock counted - before they finally received their keys.

“Hang on, Henry. I’ll drive, Harriet.”

“Thad, it’s probably not a good idea. It’s been raining for-”

“Harriet,” he repeated, “I’m driving.”

Reluctant, sighing, mom handed him the key and he returned to his phone call. He made his way through the parking lot while Warlock waited with mom’s hand on his shoulder. “Does it always rain here?” he wondered.

“Not always, but a lot. And it’s foggy pretty much every morning. It’s pretty different from New York, but I think you’ll find it’s the same in a lot of ways too.”

“Are we still going to ride the giant Ferris wheel?”

“The London Eye?” She smiled down at him, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “You bet. We’ll pick a sunnier day and Crowley can take us. I think you’ll like his car. It’s pretty cool.”

He scoffed. “It’s just a car, mom.”

“Don’t tell him that. You’ll hurt his feelings.”

She smiled in a way that confused him, but it faded pretty quickly as dad pulled up alongside them. His phone call was now happening through the rental car’s Bluetooth, his partner at the firm chatting away about cases dad was supposed to be putting on hold. They were only there for a week, and he’d promised to put his wife and son first this time. It was the same thing he always promised, so Warlock wasn’t surprised to be shushed as he and mom climbed into the car.

“Here. I’ve got the directions-”

“I remember where he lives, Harriet - Paddington.”

She sighed gustily. “Mayfair. He’s been there six years. Let me input the directions, and-”

“Everything okay there, Thad?”

“You bet, Henry! You know how turned around things are in Europe.” He chuckled. “Nothing like the good old-”

Warlock drowned him out with his music, turning to look out the window instead. He didn’t hear his mom shriek when his dad turned straight into oncoming traffic.

Chapter Text

His swishing tail stirred up the dust motes as thoroughly as his old feather duster. It was quietly amusing to him, which only encouraged the silly wagging. Not quite dignified for an alpha, perhaps, but Aziraphale had rather thoroughly given up on anything he “should do” as an alpha. The appendages wouldn’t be out as permanently as they were if he did cater to expectation, but he was rather happy with these aspects and had been since he’d been a child. He’d been very reluctant, or so he’d been told, to turn human at all as a young pup.

Aziraphale was inclined to believe that as he was still known to shift as he liked. Sometimes, to annoy a customer into leaving so he could close without losing one of his more cherished books. The bookshop he owned on the corner of Soho was a family heirloom as certainly as his name but it was, for the first time since its 1800 opening date, optional. Ironically, Aziraphale didn’t carry the reason in his own shop. Besides the first set of editions he received and was expected to sign and sell per his contract, none of his own books ever ended up on his shelves. He dealt best and most fondly in antiquities, far more willing to sell the occasional lamp than a beloved Wilde. Modern classics didn’t appear until they could prove they stood the test of time and newfangled technologies.

Or were first editions. Aziraphale had a decidedly soft spot for first editions of any age.

Really, anyone with sense would tell Aziraphale to close the bookshop entirely. Buy a home in the country where his Victorian sensibilities weren’t side-eyed quite so intensely. Perhaps one day he would. A little place near the sea where he could write in peace.

For now, though, and for a great many years, he was happy where he was.

And closing permanently, well, that wouldn’t be very sporting. He had to give would-be purchasers some opportunity to come explore his wares. He even allowed a few to be sold now and again, depending on the customer and the tome they carried to a cash register Aziraphale’s great-grandfather had purchased new in 1916.

The hours were, as a result, exceptionally sporadic and his “Yelp” reviews abysmal. He didn’t care enough to recall what exactly “Yelp” was, but it didn’t affect his own books, so it didn’t seem to matter. He still got customers and, occasionally, he received shy fans who walked in with apologies and hopeful smiles that he might sign their copy of whatever latest mystery he’d penned. He was always happy to do so… depending.

Though as he flipped his Closed sign to Open and unlocked the doors, the man who rushed up and was the first to jingle the bell was not a fan. He smelled, however, like something Aziraphale’s hindbrain wanted to sink his teeth into. Sweet caramel apples and omega. Ginger, gangly-limbed, and in dark sunglasses that masked his eyes even in the dimness of Aziraphale’s shop, he was certainly a sight and a scent to behold.

Aziraphale’s brows lifted, but he continued to dust without offering any sort of greeting. Heaven help him should the man make the mistake of thinking Aziraphale would help him find a book.

Anthony J. Crowley did not want help finding any sort of book. Any book he might have wanted could be much more easily found on his Kindle, which was much more sensible, in his opinion. Square footage in London was a hot commodity and only people much richer than him could afford the space to own many physical books.

No, it wasn't the books Crowley was interested in but the place they were being kept. The building was old, eighteen hundreds if the paperwork was to be believed. He hadn't, actually, believed it at first, even the antiquated outside could have just been a facade. But no. Everything from the dusty wooden floors, to the rickety leaning shelves full of leather tomes, to the crown molding around the top of the center pillars screamed original.

He might have even mourned how it was all going to be gutted, updated, and turned into some haute couture clothing shop or whatever but the second he breathed the dusty air, his sense of smell was bombarded with rich chocolate, bourbon, and alpha.

It made him want to start salivating. Which was embarrassing. He hadn't sat outside with a mocha cappuccino for over an hour waiting on the damn place to open to get distracted. And curse the entire firm for not warning him.

Crowley put on his best charming smile, something polite and non-threatening. The alpha’s ears and tail were out, on full display, which was unusual for this day and age. It wasn't fashionable but neither was the waistcoat or the, someone help him, tartan bow tie. Who even wore bow ties these days if they weren't doing some historical reenactment?

Whatever, it didn't matter.

Crowley sauntered between the shelves. If the fluffy haired proprietor didn't want to greet him, that was fine. It would give him a chance to get used to the alpha smell and do reconnaissance.

Aziraphale watched him carefully, unsure what to think about the thoroughly modern man sauntering about his antiques and books as if he owned the building. If he was that sort, at least Aziraphale had practice in dealing with them. Whether threats or money, he knew how to say no to people who wanted his shop.

Even if he didn't want the shop, it would be easier to shoo him out now than allow him to linger. It wasn't often that an omega scent turned his head, and he wasn't going to let this handsome one keep him distracted for long.

“Hello,” he greeted when the omega wandered near the spiral staircase. “So sorry, my dear fellow. The upstairs area is entirely off-limits.”

Bugger. Getting a look at what he was working with upstairs would have been a boon but no matter, he'd also somewhat figured it wouldn't be allowed. Crowley did his best to smile and not be affected by the rich alpha scent. “Oh? Sorry, there, er, wasn't a sign or anything. Don't mind me.”

Aziraphale arched a brow, regarding him cooly. He didn't want to take advantage of their differing presentations, but his tail was perked and still and his floppy ears shifted forward in curiosity. “If you're browsing for something particular, do tell.”

“Aahh-” The whole package was terribly distracting, especially with this alpha's entire attention on him. His ears were so light blond they could have been white and Crowley’s fingers itched to find out if they were as soft as they looked. He shoved them in his too-small trouser pockets to fight the urge. “N-not really. Just, ah, just looking around I suppose.”

“I see. I can't imagine I would have much to interest you.” Aziraphale smiled, warm and easy and full. It was as much to put the omega at ease as it was because this omega was truly attractive up close. His ginger coif looked featherlight and made him wonder what his ears might look like. Probably just as charming. “I deal predominantly in antiques, you see, and you don't appear as though that sort of thing would be of interest to you.”

He had one thing that interested Crowley. But he couldn't just come out and say it. Hastur and Ligur had thoroughly ruined that by being too pushy and rough. Cases like this required finesse they just didn't have. “Oh, I don't know about that. I, ah-” He frantically thought of something to hopefully ingratiate himself with him that wasn't entirely a lie. “My mother collected antiques. Glassware. The-the green ones. Jade, I think she called it.”

“I see. I believe I have a jade tea set in near mint condition if you're continuing the tradition.” Suspicion melted right away, Aziraphale’s tail giving a small fluttery wag. “But I must say it isn't something I specialize in.”

“That's not a problem,” Crowley said quickly and attempted to ignore how cute that wag was. He was a handsome alpha, yes, but this was work. “I'd, ah, love to see it. If that's alright, of course.”

“Certainly. And please don't feel pressured at all to make a purchase. Or to engage with me at all, for that matter. I try not to be quite as forceful as, ah, many of my peers.”

Crowley blinked a few times behind his dark glasses. Times had gotten much better for omegas but there was still the odd alpha or two who still had ‘traditional values.’ Crowley had expected this shop owner to be one of them, with his wardrobe and shop being what it was. “Oh, that's- It's fine.” He smiled a little wryly. “Not afraid to tell an alpha to back off if I have to.”

“Excellent.” Blue eyes seemed to sparkle in the shop's dim lighting. “Come along, dear fellow. I keep some of the tea sets this way.”

Aziraphale led Crowley through what seemed like a maze. Shelves of books took up most of it, but there was the occasional shelf filled with bric-a-brac. Several pieces of furniture - accent tables, ottomans, a couch, a loveseat, two couches? Was that the same couch? - had tags on them, but looked well-loved. They even passed a globe that looked pristine but for a worn away spot on California, signs of a dream that may or may not have come true for its previous owner.

How no one had tripped, broken a bone, and sued had to be some sort of miracle. Same with the lack of a fire. The place was a death trap unless, it seemed, one was its owner. Aziraphale moved through the shop effortlessly, wagging tail never hitting a thing. He chatted aimlessly as they went. The weather, an antique they passed that he was fond of, an interesting tidbit about the building's centuries old history that Crowley’s estate agent mind hoarded like a dragon.

In the middle or perhaps the back of the shop - Crowley certainly didn't know where the front door was - they seemed to stumble upon something very strange indeed: modern technology. A neat little laptop sat on a table beside the most comfortable looking chair Crowley had ever seen in his life. There was also a couch covered with two ornately decorated blankets - a rich blue and vibrant red - that looked as if it would be perfect for an afternoon nap.

“These are my personal things,” Aziraphale said, noting Crowley’s wandering gaze. “I was doing a bit of work before I decided to open the shop.”

“W-work. Right.” The entire shop was a bloody maze and Crowley didn't even want to imagine the amount of work it would take to clean it out to update the place. He had half a mind to call it hoarding if everything hadn't obviously been hand picked and placed just so. It was going to take an entire team of people to move this guy out of here; no wonder he was being stubborn about it. If he had this much crap, he'd be resisting moving too. “You say that like running a shop isn't work.”

“Oh, it hardly is. I've been here my entire life, you see. This place has been in my family since 1800, and it's the only business which has ever stood here. It's more home than work.” Aziraphale trailed fingers lovingly along a shelf's edge. “I'm an author by trade.”

Well that explained the, frankly, outrageous opening hours. “So it's… more sentiment than necessity.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “The business side is, I suppose. I do live upstairs, which is why it's thoroughly off-limits.”

“Must be pretty rough, living in a building this old. Does it even have hot water?”

Aziraphale paused, casting him a sidelong look. “No, and it doesn't have electricity either. It was left entirely as it was the day it was built.”

“That's-” Crowley gaped at him, unsure how someone even survived without electricity, before catching another look at the laptop. He wagged a finger at him with a small grin. “Alright, you had me going there for a second. But you have to charge that laptop somehow, I do know that.”

“Yes, congratulations.” Aziraphale turned towards him, hands clasped neatly behind his back. “Have you a card, Mr...?”

“Crowley. Anthony Crowley, but it's just Crowley.” And while, yes, he did have business cards, that seemed like a bad thing to hand over when he worked for the firm that had, in no uncertain terms, been told to never contact him again. “And I assume that would make you the 'A.Z. Fell' and not the Co.”

“Ah, yes. The full thing's a bit of a mouthful, so it's acceptable if you prefer 'Mr. Fell.' The majority of my readers seem to.” Aziraphale smiled again. “It's lovely to meet you, Crowley.”

“Likewise.” And it was. Fell was… nice. Calm. There were still plenty of alphas who threw their weight around for little consideration of others, least of all omegas. “Now, about that jade.”

“Of course.” He wiggled, tail swishing happily as he turned towards the shelves. “Here now. I have a complete Jadeite set.” He looked to Crowley, lips twitching in amusement as he decided to have a spot of fun. “Of course, if you're familiar with these, you'll know how rare complete, undamaged sets are. Made in the, ah, 1830s, as I'm sure you know.”

“O-oh, right. Of course.” He had no idea. While the lie hadn't actually been a lie - his mother had collected Jadeite - it wasn't as if he'd ever cared one whit about it.

“Yes. And if you care to look, you'll see every piece is stamped with the 'McK' symbol, as they were the original creators of this fascinating line.” That bit, at least, was true and did, in fact, drive the cost up. But not to, “I may be willing to part with it for, say, two thousand pounds?”

Crowley almost choked. “T-two thousand pounds!?”

Aziraphale’s lashes fluttered as innocently as could be. “I see your mother didn't pass along much knowledge about this collection of hers?”

“I- That's- You can't possibly be serious. Someone would actually pay two thousand pounds for some glassware?”

“Actually, yes.” Aziraphale’s hands disappeared behind his back, ears perking and amusement lighting up his smile. “Just not Jadeite. In actuality, I would let this set go for five hundred pounds. It's from the 1930s.”

Well that sounded significantly more reasonable, if still more than Crowley could imagine paying for glassware. He huffed, amused at both the little prank and this oddly silly alpha. “Haha, very funny, you definitely succeeded in pulling my leg there.”

“Clearly.” He wiggled gleefully, a shimmy that seemed to start at wide hips and head straight up to his shoulders. “It is an excellent set, even if your reasons for looking are more sentimental than practical. I would suggest putting research in, my dear, lest someone with fewer scruples than I get a peek at your cheque book.”

“Ah, yeah, that would be the smart thing to do.” Not that he could afford to shell out five hundred pounds for glassware he'd never be using anyway. This alpha was… adorable, though, and it left Crowley feeling somewhat off kilter. From Hastur and Ligur's recounting of the short and terse conversation he'd expected a man that was rude and standoffish. Not some soft looking gentleman who bloody wiggled when he was happy.

“It would be.” Beaming, Aziraphale adjusted the tea set and knew from experience that the omega wouldn't be making a purchase. “This is the only such set I can lay claim to, however. They're becoming more difficult to find as of late. Was there anything else you might like a lesson in?”

The question caught Crowley off guard. It could have been an innuendo or flirtation - he'd certainly heard it phrased as such from others - but there hadn't been any sort of inflection in his voice or scent to suggest it was anything more than a kind offer. “Ah, not today I'm afraid. All learned up, I think.”

“Wonderful. Then I’ll show you to the door.” The cheerful smile didn’t waver. “I’m afraid the layout can be a bit disorienting to persons not used to it.”

“Heh, you can say that again. Bit like a labyrinth in here.”

“It can be.” Aziraphale led him around one single corner and they were right back in the front of the shop. “Or perhaps it just seems that way.”

Crowley laughed, he couldn't not. This ridiculous alpha had led him around in circles on purpose and had been entirely charming while doing it. If he wasn't here for work he might have been tempted to ask him out for a drink or two, he was fairly handsome after all. “I guess that's me schooled, then.”

Aziraphale’s tail betrayed him as it was wont to do, the gentle wagging speeding up for a few beats. The cackling laughter was a surprise. Most customers would’ve been annoyed at him for “wasting their time.” And, in most cases, that was the intention. “There was a time where I considered a career in education, so I suppose old habits.”

“Seriously? That's pretty unusual- er…” Crowley flushed and rubbed the back of his head. “I mean- That is- You know how it is.”

“Yes.” Aziraphale’s smile softened. “Frankly, that was part of the allure. But it wasn’t quite right for me in the end.”

“Oh, well, this whole 'not running a bookshop and actually writing' thing seems to suit you.”

“Thank you. I thought so as well. And what is it you do, my dear? I feel as if I’ve chatted your ear off to no end.”

“Oh, right.” Crowley reached into the inner pocket of his black suit jacket and pulled out a business card. “It's nothing much, but if you're ever in need of my particular services…” He offered the card with his best winning smile and a surety that came with being successful at this exact sort of thing.

It was like switching off a light or closing a door. The steady wagging stilled and the brightness in eyes and smile vanished, though the smile did stay on his face. “I can quite definitely say I will not require your services. Have a lovely day, Mr. Crowley.”

“Er, well, I mean plenty of people say that, but you never know when feelings will change or if it's just time for something new.”

“My dear, as I have told your coworkers, I have no interest in pawning off my family history. I don’t know what they expected, sending you in their stead, but my answer remains the same.” Aziraphale offered his card back, fangs seeming sharper in his smile. “I won’t be needing this, and I’d appreciate the lack of waste.”

There was an uncomfortable squirming in his gut at not being able to please this alpha, a feeling Crowley balked at. He hadn't actually expected a sale today, not this time. That hadn't been the point. “That's fine. Maybe next time.”

“As far as my business is concerned, there will be no next time.” Aziraphale had to focus on keeping steady and mostly human. He didn't want to attack so much as he wanted away, but the way the desire pulled at his skin caused the same sort of discomfort. And there was something else, something deeper, that was upset with this omega on a very basic level. A betrayal by a potential mate, which was foolish. He knew better. Even in his prime, he wouldn't have turned this head. “You, like your coworkers, are banned from these premises. And I will not hesitate to involve a higher authority if need be.”

“Wha-” Crowley took an involuntary step back. Surprised at the sudden change in attitude and how his scent had gone from rich and inviting to something sharper that stung his nose. Anger and a hint of hurt that Crowley instinctively wanted to soothe, which only made him frustrated at his own ridiculous instincts. “Banned? What do you mean banned? I haven't done anything!”

“You knew I didn’t want estate agents here or you would have given me your card when I asked.” Aziraphale arched a brow. “You came in here with every intention of encouraging me to sell. While I’m sure your temptations go well for you on a typical day, they’ve failed here. I would like you to leave now, Mr. Crowley.”

His instincts wanted to immediately bow to the alpha's whims, to do as he was told. A grating compulsion that Crowley had never been very good at listening to. “Unlike my coworkers, I came in here to develop a working relationship.” He snatched his card back. “You can interpret that how you like.”

Aziraphale folded his hands behind his back, refusing to feel bad about upsetting the omega. “Goodbye, Mr. Crowley. I will not be selling now nor ever.”

“Fine.” Crowley grumbled on his way to the door, refusing to acknowledge the instincts that screamed at him not to turn his back on an upset alpha. “Enjoy not selling anything or whatever.”

“I shall, thank you. I wish you better luck in other endeavors.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” He'd be lucky if they gave him anything worthwhile after this. The commission he would have made off this purchase and its subsequent sale washed down the drain. He snapped the door to A.Z. Fell and Co. closed probably harder than he needed to and stalked down the street towards where he'd parked his own antique.

The nineteen-twenty six Bentley purred to life and Crowley tapped his forehead against the wheel a handful of times. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

His pity party was, unfortunately, cut short by Freddie singing out “I'm having such a good time.” Crowley groaned as he dug his phone out of his trouser pockets and then groaned again when a very familiar number flashed across the screen. He answered with a swipe of his thumb. “This is Anthony Crowley.”

“Mr. Crowley, this is Headteacher Kaur from Fox Primary. I’m afraid we need to discuss Warlock Dowling.”

Crowley pinched the bridge of his nose and rested his forehead on the steering wheel. “Of course we do. What did he do this time?”

“He was caught bullying several of his peers, Mr. Crowley. Now we’ve tolerated quite a few behavioural issues of his in deference to his… situation, but he’s going to be presenting soon and we can’t have him calling fellow students names or making threats.”

“Of course. I understand. I'll be sure to have a talk with him.”

“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to do so during his two-day suspension. We’ll need you to come pick him up now.”

“Right. Of course. I'll be right there.” Great. Just what he needed.

“Thank you. We'll expect you promptly. I'm sure you recall the way to my office.”

“I do, yes.” After a round of uncomfortable pleasantries Crowley ended the call and specifically did not think that today couldn't get any worse because if he did, then it surely would.

Warlock thought it and thought it hard, arms folded and back hunched when Crowley arrived with a strained smile and talked to his not-principal. He didn't care what she was actually called. He didn't care about much of anything. So there.

Except when dark glasses focused on him, and he knew the eyes behind them were looking at him, he shrank down. “What?”

“Don't give me that,” Crowley said as softly as he could. After a year he generally knew how Warlock responded to any amount of raised voices. “Have you got all your things?”

He bit his lip to keep it from quivering. “Yeah. My teacher gave me work to do during suspension too. Which blows,” he added quickly, trying to sound angry.

“Of course it does. This is punishment, not vacation.”

Warlock ducked his head, dark hair falling in front of his eyes as he slunked off the chair and slung his backpack over one shoulder. “Whatever,” he muttered.

Crowley resisted a sigh, it would only make Warlock retreat into his shell even worse. Of course Warlock kept his head down the entire way through the school and to the car. “Alright, wanna tell me what happened?” Crowley asked once they were both seated inside the Bentley.

He jerked his shoulders in some form of a shrug. He still wasn't used to Crowley caring the way that he did, always expecting him to fall into the patterns of his own parents'. Besides, he wasn't stupid. He knew money was tight, and he knew he was why. Him and the jerk lawyer Crowley had hired at first. The one who'd told Crowley to “get bit or give up” before getting fired.

So did Warlock want to tell Crowley? Yes. Did he see a point in opening up to him? “No,” he mumbled, arms crossing.

“You don't have to if you don't want, but that means all the information I have is from the headteacher. Thought you might wanna tell your side, is all.”

Warlock turned to look out the window, checking both ways and tensing as Crowley pulled the Bentley out of the parking lot and onto the road. “They started it.”

Crowley hummed at that, fingers tapping along the wheel and pointedly not looking at Warlock. The kid's anxiety about being in a vehicle, any vehicle, was a long process and one they were still working on. “How did they start it?”

Fidgeting with his backpack strap, Warlock didn't look at him either. “There's this girl who presented as an omega. And they were making fun of her. And calling her names. And I got mad or whatever.”

It made Crowley’s chest swell with just a little bit of pride. Warlock might have been a troublemaker in the eyes of the school but he was a good kid. He cared about others and that was more important to Crowley than following school rules to the letter. “So you defended someone who was being bullied by others.”

“I guess. I mostly just said there wasn't anything wrong with being an omega. Like we're not in, like, dinosaur times or whatever.” Warlock's shoulders jerked again. “But the teacher only heard me say I'd club 'em like cavemen if they didn't shut up.”

Crowley snorted and used one hand to partially cover his mouth. He knew he shouldn't be laughing, but in his defense it was pretty funny. “Well, I'd say that's as good a reason as any to threaten someone.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, obviously. It was people who stood up and said somethin' and did somethin' that lets me do and say the shit I do.”

Warlock nodded, looking out the window. He didn't wear headphones in cars anymore. “Did I mess up your job?”

“Nah, it wasn't going well anyway. Don't worry about it.”

Warlock frowned at him. While he'd inherited plenty from his parents, the majority was locked up tight until he was an adult. He knew very well that money was tight, even though Crowley hadn't talked to him about it. He wasn't stupid. “Are you gonna get fired?”

“No, I'm not going to get fired.” He tried to be as candid and upfront with the kid as possible. Warlock was smart, lying to him was a sure-fire way to damage the tentative trust that had been hard enough to build. “I'll just be working remotely till you go back to school.”

“How come I can't go to showings with you?”

“You know I wouldn't mind you coming along, but it's not a professional look and if I want them to keep taking me seriously and giving me the high-profile clients, I can't have a pup tagging along.”

“I'm eleven,” he grumbled. “That's basically not a pup anymore.”

Crowley chuckled and gave his knee a pat. “Basically, but not quite an adult yet. Enjoy being a pup while you can, hellspawn.”

“If I wasn't a pup, you wouldn't be stuck with me,” Warlock mumbled.

“Excuse you,” Crowley said in mock offense. “You're stuck with me, not the other way around.”

Warlock's lips twitched against his will. “You're not that bad. I guess.”

“I'll remind you that you said that tonight when you're mad about doing homework.”

“Do I have to do homework tonight? I've got two whole days!”

“Think of it this way: if you do all your homework tonight, you have the rest of the time to not worry about it. Get the punishment out of the way and you can have as much fun as you want.”

He sighed gustily. “I don't think I should even get a punishment.”

“While I agree, not doing it at all will just cause you more problems with your teacher.”

He sighed again. “Fine. Will you help me with history? I hate history. There's too much of it.”

Crowley chuckled and nodded. “Sure I will. Might be as bad at it as you, but I'm sure with putting both of our heads together we'll figure it out.”

“Okay. I mean, were the 1600s even real?”

“Course they were real. I was there.”

Warlock looked over at him. “You're old, but you're not that old.”

“But are you sure about that?”

He rolled his eyes hard. “Don't be dumb. Mom said you guys were kids together and that wasn't in the 1600s. That's, like, 400 years ago.”

Crowley laughed. “Well I'm glad you think I look good for 400.”

“You're so weird,” Warlock accused, doing his best to muffle the laughter in his own voice.

“You have no idea.”

“You can't quote that. You never ever saw it until you got me.” Warlock laughed after all, relaxing as they pulled into Crowley’s usual spot in front of his apartment complex. “Did you go to the bookshop you're supposed to sell?”

Crowley groaned and sighed. “Yeah. The guy that owns it is a hardarse. He doesn't wanna sell, but they all do eventually.”

“Maybe he'd sell if you brought a pup with you,” he tried, waiting for the engine to be turned off before unbuckling his seat belt and opening the door.

“Nice try, hellspawn,” Crowley chuckled, climbing out of the Bentley and making sure the doors were locked. “But I don't think he's the type to go in for that sort of thing.”

“Why not?”

“Because he's an alpha and a bachelor as far as I could tell. And his shop was full of breakable knickknacks and rare books that most collectors wouldn't want pups around.”

“Oh.” Warlock scurried along to keep up with Crowley's long-legged strides, crossing the street with him. “It sounds lame.”

“Maybe for a pup, but it can be pretty interesting for us adults. The value of some of that stuff.” Crowley whistled. “Nothin' to sneeze at.”

“So why do you think he'd sell the whole building if he's got all that rich-people stuff in it?”

“Because no one says 'no' to The Ninth Circle for long.”

“Even alphas?”

Crowley grinned down at him. “Yes, even alphas, stubborn as they might be, can be worn down eventually.”

“So what're you gonna do?” Warlock wondered, watching Crowley swipe his keycard and stepping in ahead of him. His dad had never told him about his day like Crowley did, had never shared his plans. He'd never picked him up from school either, not without a phone call happening or his mom driving. It had taken time to get used to and, sometimes, he still was.

He hummed, following Warlock through the shiny lobby and to the lift up. He hadn't been able to give it much thought yet, too busy worrying over his pup to think about work. “I think I'll let him stew on it a bit, focus on other clients, and come back in a few days after he's had time to think things over.” And hopefully some time to not be nearly as mad.

“Okay.”

When they stepped inside, Warlock found himself reaching out automatically. Sometimes, he still expected his mom's hand to wrap around his. Soft palms and gentle fingers with neat nails. Crowley’s hands were different - long-fingered and a little rough - but he held just as securely. And, unlike anybody on his dad's side of the family, Crowley wanted him.

He shuffled closer to his side, breathing in caramel apples. His mom had smelled like caramel too, so it was almost like she was there sometimes. The blanket he had with her scent on it was so faint, he almost couldn't smell her anymore at all. He only had a single thing with his dad's scent: a shirt taken from his luggage after the accident. He'd always been too busy to mark something just for Warlock. Another thing he'd promised to get to but never had.

He had two things with Crowley's scent: one of the small blankets in his nest and a small kerchief to hold. It was important to carry around the scent of a trusted adult, and it had just been nice. Something given to him when he'd first woken up in the hospital, soaked in Crowley’s scent in hopes that the boy might manage what neither parent had. Something for comfort when doctors and nurses came in and checked legs propped up and covered in thick casts. Sometimes, it still hurt to walk. Sometimes, he still woke up expecting to be in the hospital with Crowley sleeping in one of the uncomfortable chairs by his bed and itching in spots he couldn't reach.

Worse was when he expected to wake up in a bedroom in New York with their cook making breakfast down the hall. The apartment - flat - always seemed wrong on those mornings, though they were happening less and less. He was starting to feel kind of, basically, maybe happy there with Crowley, and he didn't want to lose him.

“I hope you sell it.”

“I do too.” The first time Warlock had reached out and grabbed his hand like that had been a surprise. He wasn't the touchy feely sort of kid, even when he might have needed it. Whether that was the trauma or the upbringing, Crowley couldn't say. He hadn't known him well enough before to know the differences, but he still held on tight everytime Warlock reached for him.

The flat was a lot less empty feeling with a pup around and Crowley found he actually liked it. He actually had food in the fridge and cupboards, blankets and pillows on the sofa. It felt like a home rather than just somewhere he slept.

For Warlock, slotting into Crowley’s life had largely been done without his input. Friends of his parents, including lawyers like his dad, had gone into their house and emptied it. Everything that was Warlock's had been shipped on Crowley’s dime to the UK and he'd filled one of his empty bedrooms. Leaving the hospital in a temporary wheelchair had been an ordeal, but being able to stay in a room that smelled of himself had helped. Having a few momentos of his parents had helped.

An almost infinite well of patience from Crowley had helped, as had the reassurances that he was wanted. Even if he acted out at school and refused to learn British terms for things. The amount of times he'd been sent home with bruises or hurt feelings or both the previous year would've been enough to drive anyone else away, but Crowley had kept at it. Had kept him.

So it was with an ease of routine that Warlock carried his bag to the kitchen table, kicking his shoes off somewhere in the vicinity of the small foyer on his way. He pulled out his books and started on math first since, for reasons beyond Crowley, that was his favorite subject.

English would be last, whatever his protestations of history. English had been flipped on its head for him. Different words, different spellings. He'd spent several stubborn months adding arbitrary Us to words with Os out of some odd protest. Students with only loose grasps of history had taken to tauntingly calling him a traitor and throwing tea bags at him, yelling about a Tea Party they had little understanding of.

It had gotten to the point where Crowley had gone in at the start of this year to speak to Warlock's teachers about how they would grade his spelling and papers. It was the same language, but different enough to be frustrating for a boy whose entire life had changed through no fault of his own. By rights, his life should've been ended entirely. So there was no real reason, was there, to make it more difficult? If they could handle “cookie” and “elevator” in his papers, he would work on the behavioural issues.

It was something of an uphill climb, but there were peeks of sunlight ahead. If only the courts would listen. If only this new lawyer could be more helpful than the last.

How had Crowley not proven that he could take care of this boy on his own yet? Unwed and unclaimed didn't mean faulty. He wanted to adopt Warlock. It shouldn't be so hard.

He was going to get that commission off that bookshop sale. He had to.

Chapter Text

The nerve of that omega and the company he worked for kept Aziraphale irritated the following day and glued to his keyboard. He couldn't yet make the cool ginger he'd added into his latest tale the victim, fingers faltering each time he tried, but he'd get there. Mr. LaVista and Mr. Melion had been rather simple to dispose of in character form, but Mr. Crowley was proving difficult.

Perhaps it had been that fascinating time between his initial arrival and the receipt of that business card. Perhaps it had been the laughter. Perhaps it was so base as to be his presentation as omega.

Whatever it was, Aziraphale had to close his laptop and walk away midway through the Thursday after his visit. He nearly opened up the shop, but a shocking lack of tea had him stepping outside. There was certainly no shortage of tea shops right there in Soho, but he had a particular supplier in mind. She'd be happy to come up with ways to murder the Mr. Cowwley of Aziraphale’s books. He'd need a better name for him eventually, but was satisfied for the moment.

As satisfied as he was with the blue skies overhead. The autumn was a crisp one, so he made sure to retrieve his coat before stepping out into the world. The sunshine made him smile, tail wagging and floppy ears perked as he joined the crowds and headed for the tube.

It took Warlock several minutes to realize that the toffee apples he was smelling weren't some concoction in the kitchen, but himself. On the second day of his suspension, he smelled sweet.

He ran into the bathroom, nearly slamming into Crowley on the way, and leapt into the shower as if he could scrub the scent off his skin. Off his very being. Off the ears and tail he couldn't make go away. It was all he could do not to transform entirely.

He didn't want to be an omega!

He wasn't supposed to be an omega. The doctors had all said he'd be more likely to present as an alpha with his parents gone and with only an omega around, and he'd been fine with that. He'd been prepared for that.

So why was he an omega?

Eventually, he slunk out of the bathroom and slunk over to Crowley with hunched shoulders and upset eyes. His new scent was sour with distressed misery, and he didn't know what to say. He just slammed his face into the couch pillows and, with a pop, was suddenly a very small black wolf pup with his tail between his legs.

Crowley sighed softly and gently scritched behind his folded back ears. His black fur was shaggy and still damp from his shower. All the doctors might have said he'd be an alpha, but Crowley knew the pup, who he was as a person, and the little black furred omega curled up beside him wasn't as much of a surprise to him. “'S not so bad, you know.”

Warlock whined his disagreement. It was just so unfair. Everyone was going to make fun of him at school, which already sucked, and it wasn't like he was going to be able to get homeschooled. At least as an alpha, people would make fun of him less. Being a beta would've been less humiliating.

“I know it doesn't feel very good right now. I was upset when I presented too, but you said it yourself: there's nothing wrong with being an omega.”

That didn't mean anything if everyone was going to bully him. He turned around and popped back, ears and tail both drooped as he laid his cheek on Crowley’s thigh. “Can I stay home tomorrow too?”

Crowley ran his hand through his hair, long since Warlock had resisted having it cut. “I'm sorry, hellspawn. I gotta get back to the office and I'm still not supposed to leave you on your own.”

“You could. I wouldn't tell,” Warlock muttered.

Crowley sighed and continued to pet him, hoping to be soothing. Because he did know exactly how Warlock felt. Things had come a long way for omegas, but there was still stigma, things children heard their parents say that they then parroted. It wouldn't be easy, but with support and a loving home he'd be alright. Crowley was sure of it. “Yeah, I could, but if we got a surprise home visit that'd be another black mark on me. And neither of us want that.”

“No... But-” He was cut off by the ring of Crowley’s phone, Freddie sounding too loud in Warlock's flattened ears.

Crowley glanced at his phone and swore quietly. “Fuck, that's the office. I gotta take this.” He stood, giving Warlock another head rub, and headed for his office. “There's waffles in the kitchen, help yourself.”

Warlock frowned as he walked away. Crowley didn't often brush him off like that. Not even when he was working from home. He'd make a joke about saying he was in the bathroom and missed the call. But he was stressed. Warlock knew he was stressed.

He walked towards the kitchen, stomach twisted in knots. He didn't want to be an omega. He didn't want to get teased at school. He didn't want... He didn't want any of it. His dad would've been embarrassed by him.

Stopping at the junction between the entrance and the hall leading to the kitchen, Warlock shoved his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders.

He didn't want waffles.

He wanted his mom.

Warlock glanced towards Crowley’s office and, perhaps, he would've stayed had he seen the door cracked. Even if he was on the phone, Crowley would usually let Warlock stay close. As long as he was quiet, it was usually okay.

The door was closed, however, and by the time Crowley’s call was wrapped up, the pup was gone.

“Alright, kid, I told the boss you weren't feeling well so just let me-” He stopped mid-sentence when no excited pup came barreling around a corner.

“Warlock?”

He wasn't on the couch where Crowley had left him, nor was he at the island in the kitchen. The waffles were all accounted for and cooling on their plate on the counter. Crowley frowned and started checking under chairs and tables, just in case he'd transformed again. When no little black pup was forthcoming, he figured maybe Warlock had gone back to his nest. It was instinctual, even more so for an omega, to seek your nest when you were upset.

Crowley knocked on Warlock's bedroom door, hip leaning against the nearby wall. “Hey, I got good news.”

The lack of a response was frustrating but not, necessarily, unusual. When he was mad at an adult, Warlock tended to ignore them entirely. “Alright, I know I brushed you off and I'm sorry. But I'm not going in tomorrow, I can stay home with you.”

More silence followed and Crowley tried not to take it too personally. They'd worked hard to get where they were in so little time, to build a trust that was still so fragile. The occasional backstep was to be expected, or so Warlock's therapist had warned him.

But it still didn't sit right with him that Warlock hadn't even eaten. That nurturing instinct rearing its head. He knocked again, slightly more insistent this time. “I know you're upset, but I'd really like it if you ate some breakfast. Just a bite of something - anything - don't care. Just wanna know you ate something.”

Crowley pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed when he still didn't get a response. “Come on, hellspawn. Work with me here.”

The continued silence was… concerning. Crowley couldn't hear a single sniffle or shuffling beyond the door. He fidgeted, fingers tapping on his thighs with the unease of not being able to see his pup but still smelling his sour distress. His sour distress that was fading.

“Warlock?” Crowley tried again with another knock. He tried not going in his room without an invitation, it was just a common courtesy. Even kids deserved some privacy. “Warlock, I'm going to come inside if you don't say anything.”

Right. Something wasn't right with his pup and Crowley had to fix it. He didn't start truly panicking until he opened the door and found Warlock's room distressingly empty.

It was the smell which caught Aziraphale’s attention first - toffee, apples, new, and fright. It was the fear which had his ears perking and his gaze lifting from the book he’d brought to the tube. He scanned the area and knew he wasn’t the only alpha doing so. A frightened omega was enough to alert any senses. A frightened omega pup was worse. He found the source easily enough: a shivering, shaggy black pup weaving his way through the boarding crowds to tuck himself beneath the seats.

He could see another alpha saw him too, Aziraphale’s eyes narrowing at the predatorial way she tried to creep closer. He rose and walked up, sitting directly on the seat above the young pup. She snarled and he growled back, the sound low and warning. She could just want the glory involved in returning a lost pup home or want something more nefarious; either way, Aziraphale wasn’t comfortable letting anyone approach a pup like a predator. He needed help, not another threat.

When she walked away, he opened his book again and got comfortable in his new seat. “Don’t mind her, little one. Or me, if you’d prefer not to. I know presenting during the school year can be rather difficult, so I’ll stay right here and you can mope quietly all you like. Or you can come out and sit next to me. If you tell me where you’re going, I’d be happy to assist.”

For several minutes, it was quiet but for the normal sounds of passengers on the tube. The doors slid shut and the car began to move, rattling along the underground rails. Aziraphale continued to read as the pup slipped out from beneath the seats and a far more human-looking boy sat on the seat beside him. He fidgeted with the long coat he was wearing, glancing at Aziraphale several times. His ears were flat in distress, tail curled around his waist. He was very newly presented indeed, poor thing.

“I- I think I got on the wrong subway,” he mumbled, surprising Aziraphale with an American accent. “Er. T-tube?”

“Well, it’s a bit difficult to read when transformed. Our eyes don’t work quite the way they do otherwise. Now where might you be headed? We’ll see if I know it.”

The pup nodded, gaze averted still. “Um. I’m supposed to go to- to West Ham.”

“Ah. Then, yes, I’m afraid you most certainly have boarded the wrong train.” He looked up at Aziraphale with wide, dark eyes and a flare of upset in his scent that Aziraphale couldn’t help but respond to. “It’s alright, dear boy. Don’t fret. We’ll get off at Warren Street, and pop right back onto the Victoria Line. It’ll get us back to Oxford Circus, and we’ll take the Central Line.”

“‘We?’” he mumbled cautiously.

“I cannot, in good conscience, let a lone pup travel about the Underground when he’s already upset and turned about.”

He studied Aziraphale for a few minutes, frowning. “Are you a ghost? You’re dressed like a ghost.”

Aziraphale chuckled. He’d never been called old-fashioned in quite that way before. “Rude thing. No, I’m not a ghost. I suppose I’m just rather comfortable with antiques.”

“Oh.” His ears perked slowly, the distress fading from his scent some when the alpha laughed instead of yelled or got annoyed. Even being called rude wasn’t that bad, especially since Crowley usually called him hellspawn. “What’s your name?”

“Aziraphale Fell. And yours?”

“Warlock,” he admitted, waiting for the usual tease. He’d been fielding those his whole life so expected it.

Instead, Aziraphale chuckled quietly. “Your parents certainly are imaginative. Will they be worried about you, young Warlock?”

He was quiet for a moment before shaking his head. “That’s where I’m going. Where they are.”

“Alright, my dear. I’ll get you to them, safe and sound.”

“I’m not supposed to trust strange alphas, and my cousin’s already gonna be mad at me for leaving without telling him.”

“Would you prefer that I turn you over to a proper authority?”

“Like a cop?” Warlock made a face, scrunching his nose in a way that made Aziraphale’s lips twitch.

“Of course.”

“No way. What’s after the Central Line?”

“I believe it’s the District Line at Mile End.”

He looked up at Aziraphale through his bangs, frown still firmly in place. “How do you know that?”

“I’m, ah, rather unfortunately familiar with the East London Cemetery.”

Warlock looked down, fidgeting with his coat again. So was he, but he’d never gone alone. “I guess you can come with me,” he mumbled as the train came to a stop.

“How kind of you.” Aziraphale tucked his book under his arm as he rose, gesturing ahead of himself. “Come along now. We don’t want to miss the connection.”

And, though it was in the opposite direction of where he’d been intending to go, Aziraphale got the young pup on the right train. He made note of the phone he pulled out of his pocket, watching the game he played for a moment before returning to his own book, and stayed beside him in the companionable silence he seemed to prefer. Hopefully when they were above ground, he would call his parents and they could pick him up. Then Aziraphale would resume his day as planned. It was a little more than an hour of a delay, and Tracy wouldn’t mind his tardiness. She never did.

Warlock appreciated the silence mostly because he didn’t know what to say to a not-ghost. And because he expected adults to pester him, especially since his game looked like it was super violent. It was just a tower defense game with a math component he liked and that Crowley rolled his eyes over. It didn’t need an internet connection, thankfully, so he usually played it on the subways.

Besides, “I’ve never been on the subway here alone before,” he admitted as others boarded at one of the various stops along the way. He had to scoot closer to let other people sit. When he’d been very young, he’d sat in his mom’s lap. And when the trains were especially packed, he’d sometimes transform and settle safely in Crowley’s. He was admittedly tempted to do the same thing with the alpha by his side. He seemed soft and safe, his scent not quite as sharp as he was used to alphas being. While he couldn’t quite identify it, it mostly kind of smelled chocolatey to him.

Plus, seeing an alpha with his ears and tail out when he didn’t even have to made Warlock feel a little better about his own being stuck for a few days until his hormones could settle into his new presentation or whatever. He didn’t understand it all and didn’t need to beyond knowing it sucked.

“I take it you’ve been alone elsewhere?”

“In New York. I used to have to take the subway home all the time after school.” Mom used to take him in the mornings, but she was usually too busy in the afternoons. Dad had never taken nor picked him up. “I get picked up now.”

Aziraphale looked over, but Warlock didn’t look up from his game. “I imagine being in a new country makes things very different.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“And presenting as an omega during the school year. Not any easier, I’d imagine.”

That earned him a glance. “It blows. I wanted to be an alpha.”

Aziraphale lifted his brows. “Now why would you want something like that?”

Warlock stared at him as if he had two heads, but he seemed genuinely curious and surprisingly harmless for an alpha. “B-because nobody makes fun of alphas.”

“Oh, now that isn't true at all. Have you ever seen an alpha with ears like mine?”

Not a grown-up one. Pups like him had floppy ears all the time, but they usually straightened out by adulthood. “But you can put those away.”

“No, actually, I couldn’t, but why would I want to? I’m comfortable with them out, and I prefer being able to hear better than I can with my human ears.” There was a beat, and he smiled. “You see, when I say that, most people tend to comment that they’re surprised I can hear with floppy ears.”

“That’s dumb. Mine are, and I can hear way better.” Aziraphale chuckled, reaching out, but pausing before he actually touched Warlock’s ear. His brows lifted and Warlock realized with a start that he was asking permission. “I… I don’t really like getting touched.”

Aziraphale’s hand fell away without question, and it was so much like Crowley that Warlock’s chest felt tight. “That’s alright, and it’s good of you to speak up. Anyway, yes, your ears work perfectly well folded, and so do mine. But because it isn’t the typical sight on adults, I do get negative comments.”

He guessed that made sense, but, “Why don’t you growl at them?”

“Growling at all of life’s problems is not going to solve them. Ignoring them and continuing on as I like, however, makes me comfortable.”

Warlock nodded and fell quiet again, playing his game as the tube rattled along beneath London’s busy streets. If he scooted a little closer to the calm alpha beside him, Aziraphale was good enough not to mention it.

The streets were never deserted in London and, if one was, it was likely for a very good reason. The crowd made Aziraphale jumpy, having a fresh omega by his side. People looked at that new scent, and the alpha in him didn't want a single eye on the shy, quiet pup beside him.

Stay away, don't touch, don't look.

They weren't instincts he'd used overmuch. He did have a dear friend with pups, but he'd never spent much time alone with them. Certainly not time on a busy street when presentations had begun. They'd had their parents for that. He'd been about as their parents' friend and as someone who'd run about with them as a wolf now and again. More often than Aziraphale might admit aloud, perhaps, as it wasn't the sort of thing people apparently wanted their alphas to do. Alphas weren't supposed to want family to love, exactly, but to protect and pass on a lineage.

With this little pup, those protective instincts were on high alert. But at least the shy thing was staying close to him, seeming as wary of the strangers as Aziraphale. It was distracting for him, nearly too much so, as he didn't realise where he was being led until the cemetery came into view. “Warlock...”

He fidgeted with the sleeve of his jacket, head ducking. “This is- My parents are in there.”

The scent of his misery was so sour that Aziraphale almost couldn't stand breathing it in. But he didn't back away. He just said, “As are mine.”

He looked up, ears twitching and tail flicking nervously. “Really?”

“Mmhm. They have been for quite some time, and I wouldn't mind a visit with them if you'd oblige me.”

The little omega nodded, hands disappearing into his pockets as they made their way into the cemetery. They talked a little, Aziraphale handling most of it while the sour sadness circled him. Cemeteries weren't all about misery, in his opinion. Good memories lived there and, if such places really were for the living, they should be celebrated. Loved ones were in better places, empty vessels now nourishing the Earth, and the markers were just places one could safely share memories and chitchat without others looking at you as if you were a bit mad.

“You had two moms?”

“Oh, yes. They were brilliant women and made quite the impression on me,” and on the country, really, “when I was young. I miss them very much even though it's been several years since they passed, but that's alright. I can always come here if I want a bit of a chinwag.”

“A what?”

Aziraphale chuckled. “A conversation. I come here when I'm sad and when I'm happy.”

He scoffed. “Why when you're happy? So you can get sad instead?”

“Heavens no. I enjoy sharing good news with them as much as I did when they were alive. They'd both be terribly upset if I only told them terrible things.”

Warlock didn't seem to know what to say to that, brow furrowing in confusion, so Aziraphale took pity on him and encouraged him to guide the way to his own markers.

Thaddeus Dowling had a small American flag tucked into the soil by his half of the marker whilst Harriet just seemed to have flowers. More flowers than Thaddeus. Flowers and, as he kept looking, an empty bottle of wine wearing an ugly sweater-patterned insulation sleeve. How... unusual.

He didn't ask Warlock what it represented, letting the boy wander closer to the half which bore his mother's name. He traced the letters of it over and over again, uncertain and seeming very unhappy indeed.

“What made you want to see your parents today, Warlock?” Aziraphale wondered quietly. “If you don't mind my asking.”

Small shoulders jerked in some sort of a shrug, but he eventually sighed when Aziraphale let the question live and breathe in the air around them. “I presented as an omega and- and I hate it. Dad would've been disappointed. He was always saying he expected me to be an alpha just like him and be a lawyer just like him. But mom was an omega a-and so's my cousin. He's cool. He takes care of me now. Since, like, since no one else wanted to.”

Aziraphale’s heart broke for him. To feel as if no one in the world wanted you after losing both parents on, apparently, the same day... And in a completely different country besides. “Is he the one who picks you up from school now?”

“Yeah. And he takes me every morning. He... He listens to me. Adults never listen to pups,” he lamented, and Aziraphale wisely refrained from pointing out that he was currently listening. “It blows. Everyone at school's gonna make fun of me, and my teacher's not gonna help, and... And all the doctors said I was gonna be an alpha. So I thought I'd be able to be... Alphas are strong, y'know?”

“Omegas are as well, my dear. Not naturally as strong as alphas, but they can certainly train to be as strong or even stronger. The ability to carry pups takes strength alphas can't have. If not for omegas or womb-having betas, there would be no persons on this Earth. Alphas and certain betas are only a small part of that process.”

His shoulders jerked again. That was about the extent of what he knew about where puppies came from, though he'd never heard an alpha make a big deal out of it. Like having them was some kind of amazing ability that should be admired. “You're kind of weird.”

“So I've been told.” Aziraphale smiled, unoffended by the rude, blunt pup. “Does your cousin know where you've gone?”

Warlock stubbornly looked back at his mother's headstone, finger tracing along her name again. The words Loving Mother. “Not... Not exactly. He's probably gonna be mad at me. I'm not supposed to run out. He actually cares about knowing where I am.”

And how terrible that that should feel unique. Aziraphale sighed quietly. It seemed as if he'd have a pup until this mysterious cousin could be reached. The poor dear was likely driving himself mad with worry.

Crowley was trying not to panic and failing miserably. He didn't know where Warlock would go. He hadn't made any friends yet and it wasn't as if there was any other family on this side of the pond he could seek out. He'd already searched the entire flat building, knocked on multiple neighbours' doors, called and called and called his cell, and circled the block twice on foot.

The school had been called, but not told he was missing. Just… not feeling well. He couldn't tell them he'd lost the pup; if it got back to social services somehow, they'd take him for sure. What kind of guardian was he supposed to be if he couldn’t even handle one bloody pup? And why in the world would Warlock run off? Sure, he might have joked about Warlock being the one stuck with him but… he wasn't that bad, was he?

He swallowed back a whine as he jumped into the Bentley, now was not the time to devolve into instincts. He needed to keep his head, find his missing pup, and-and… he didn't know what else but finding Warlock was number one.

Crowley wished he could just use his nose to track him, but the scent was too new and with so many other scents and smells in London it was nigh impossible to follow one you weren't familiar with yet. He drove slower and more carefully than he usually would by himself, searching for any sign of black fur or dark haired pup. More than once he slammed on the brakes, heart in his throat thinking he'd finally found him, only for the pup in question to not be his.

At around the three hour mark he could feel his nerves frayed and shot. They were going to take Warlock away at this rate. All the work he'd put in to help him heal, all the trust they'd built, all of it would be gone.

Crowley was pulled out of his spiraling panic by his phone crooning out Freddie Mercury. He fumbled with it at first, hopes rising that one of his calls to Warlock's cell might have gone through, only to have those same hopes dashed at the unknown number. He growled at it, worried and scared and frustrated in equal measure, but he couldn't let it go to voicemail, not if it was a client.

“Please make this quick, I'm waiting on a very important call right now.”

It gave Aziraphale pause. It wasn’t exactly the usual greeting for a telephone call. Additionally, the voice was… strikingly familiar. “Yes, well, I do apologise if I’m holding you up, dear fellow, but you wouldn’t happen to know a Warlock Dowling, would you?”

“Obviously he knows me,” Warlock protested in the background.

Crowley blinked at the phone and almost ran right off the road before correcting at the last minute. Was that- “Fell?”

Aziraphale blinked twice before gasping. “Mr. Crowley!”

“Ngk- Er, hi… No! Wait. How do you know about Warlock?” He didn't remember mentioning him the other day.

“Oh, good Lord.” Aziraphale rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to slot in the cousin Warlock had spoken so highly of with the omega estate agent who’d bothered him. “Well. The shortest possible thing I can tell you is that he’s at my shop. And, ah, I suppose you can consider yourself unbanned.”

He made a relieved sort of noise and resisted just collapsing against the wheel. “Oh, thank someone.” He was safe. “Is he- Is he hurt? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, Mr. Crowley. We’ve had quite the adventure, as a matter of fact. I discovered him traveling on the wrong tube a few hours ago.”

It was like a great weight had lifted off his shoulders. “Bloody hell, I've been worrying myself to death over here.”

“I’m terribly sorry. It’s taken a bit of effort to get your number from him. Obviously, he shared that before he did your name. You’ve quite the cautious pup on your hands.”

“I- Yeah, he's somethin'.” But obviously not nearly cautious enough to not just run off on his own. “I'm only a few streets away. I'll be there soon to get him out of your hair.”

“Ah. Yes. Of course.” Aziraphale cleared his throat. “We’ll see you in a few minutes then, Mr. Crowley.”

“Yeah, see you.” Crowley swore colourfully once the call had ended. He hadn't expected to be seeing Fell so soon and certainly not with Warlock around. But at least his pup was safe. He was safe and in the company of an alpha that Crowley couldn't bring himself to be concerned about.

An alpha who was currently rather stunned and positively flustered at the revelation that the cousin he'd heard so many positive things about was, in fact, the same man who'd so irritated him two days before. After intriguing him, which only made things much worse. He should've known, perhaps, considering the apple scent. They were similar in that regard, but goodness.

“You know my cousin?” Warlock asked, intrigued.

“I certainly do, my dear.”

“How come?”

Aziraphale resisted the urge to wring his hands together, instead smoothing down the front of his trousers. “Why don't I start us some tea?” Warlock's dubious look made him smile. “Tea comes with cake.”

“Cool. Whatever. Yeah.”

Aziraphale smiled and disappeared into the back, leaving Warlock to his own devices so he could fret and rearrange his opinions in peace. He only had a few short minutes to do so, just long enough for the water to boil. He carried the tray towards the front, studying Anthony Crowley with fresh eyes. He looked the same physically, but stressed around the edges. His sunglasses couldn’t hide the worried furrow of his brow or the way the emotion clung to his scent. Poor dear had probably been marinating in it since discovering Warlock missing.

“He’s just back here, Mr. Crowley. Come have a seat.”

“Right. Thanks.” He could smell Warlock's new scent, no longer distressed, and that was helping to settle his erant nerves. Not to mention how Fell's own rich scent seemed to encourage comfort. “Not gonna lead me in circles this time?”

“No, my dear fellow.” Aziraphale smiled, soft and kind and nothing as he had when he'd made Crowley leave before. “You smell as if you've had more than enough stressors in your morning.”

Crowley huffed out a small laugh. “You could say that again.”

“Yes, well, no need to fret. I was off to visit a dear friend this morning when he scampered onto the train.” Aziraphale shook his head, leading Crowley to the little sanctuary in the middle of his shop. He pretended not to notice the way Warlock tensed on the couch, simply setting the tray on the coffee table. “Of course, I couldn't leave the rapscallion to fend for himself. Have a seat. How do you take your tea, Mr. Crowley?”

“Sugar's fine,” was all Crowley could manage before he marched right past him and slid onto the couch next to Warlock and pulled him into his arms. He felt him tense and while Crowley knew Warlock didn't often go in for the whole physical affection thing, he bloody needed it so the pup would deal. “You had me worried sick.”

Warlock shrugged as best as he could, hiding his face against Crowley when Aziraphale gave him a pointed look. “I'm... sorry.”

“I just wanted to know you were safe. Even a bloody text would've been better than nothing. I called and called.”

Warlock pressed himself more firmly against Crowley. “I know... Aziraphale told me to call, but... I mean, there wasn't service on the subway.”

Of course there wasn't. Crowley pressed his nose to Warlock's temple and breathed him in, committing the scent to memory like he should have done that morning. “Gonna make me go grey young at this rate, hellspawn.”

“You're not even young. You're old,” he mumbled, closing his eyes and letting the adult in his life have his way. Because he did feel bad, just running away without saying anything, and he missed his nest.

He laughed, feeling flooded with relief. If Warlock was trying to take digs at him, they must be alright. “Four hundred's pretty young for people like me.”

“If you were four hundred, you'd dress like Aziraphale. And talk like him too.”

Aziraphale lifted his brows and perked his ears as he settled in his chair, tea in hand and cake at a small side table, but he didn't argue. He let guardian and pup have their moment.

Crowley lifted his head and eyed who was apparently 'Aziraphale' from his carefully polished brogues to the tartan bow tie. “No, you see, he's older 'n me and just never learned to blend in proper.”

“I certainly did, dear boy. I simply stopped adapting in the Victorian era.”

Oh, oh, he was playing along. A grin spread across Crowley’s face at the realisation and if he'd had his tail out it would have been wagging. “Sounds like laziness to me, Aziraphale.”

His lashes fluttered. He found he didn't mind Crowley using his first name. So few people bothered, after all. “Some of us would simply call it having a preference, my dear. I'm sure you're quite fashionable by today's standards, but tartan is consistently stylish.”

“You're both weird,” Warlock accused.

“You bet your tail I am!”

Aziraphale chuckled, his tail gently beating against his chair. “Have your cake, silly boy. It's been a long morning.”

It had been a long morning and Crowley was happy to watch Warlock scarf down the provided cake. Though he felt like he should apologise for his pup causing problems, for him being his pup after being so definitively told he wasn't welcome back. Crowley sipped his own tea, almost surprised his request had been granted. “Thanks for, well,” he waved his hand in an all encompassing sort of gesture, “everything, I guess.”

“It was no trouble, ah, Crowley.” Aziraphale smiled, neatly sipping his tea. “Young Warlock just needed a bit of guidance today.”

Warlock poked his fork at his cake. “I... I wanted- I wanted my mom,” he mumbled.

“Oh, Warlock,” Crowley murmured and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “You know I'll always take you to see her when you ask.”

“You walked away because of work, and you're not supposed to leave when you're on the clock.”

“I know, I'm sorry.”

“Aziraphale took me instead. He's- he's nice.”

Crowley glanced over at Aziraphale, feeling somewhat like no matter what he said here it was a trap. “Yes, yes he does seem to be.”

Aziraphale’s lips twitched. “First impressions notwithstanding, I suppose.”

“That's, er, something we can put behind us, right?” Crowley asked and rubbed the back of his head.

“Possibly.” Aziraphale studied him over the top of his cup, something in his chest warm at seeing him with a pup snug by his side. No wonder he hadn't been able to kill him off. “I still have no interest in a business relationship with you. If that's acceptable to you, we can put the negativity away.”

Crowley sighed. “Well, it's not like I can make you sell.”

“No, but-”

“Wait, Aziraphale’s the hardass?” Warlock interrupted, and Aziraphale’s ears perked in sync with his lifted brows.

Crowley flushed red and slung his arm around Warlock's shoulders again and leaned in. “Why don’t we keep the things I've said between us, hm?”

“Oh, no, I'm quite curious. A... A hardarse? Me?”

“You did take one look at my business card and ban me from coming back.”

“You were dishonest. And, well... Your predecessors are rather terrible examples of what your company has to offer. Their ban still stands.”

“Hastur and Ligur are slimeballs even by my low standards but I don't know how I was dishonest! I didn't tell you a single lie.”

“That entire bit about being interested in jadeite wasn't false? Not a, ah, clever ruse to allow you to - what is that phrase? - scope the joint.”

Crowley grinned, barely holding back a laugh. “I do believe you’ll recall I said my mother collected it, which was true. She loved the stuff. And while it's pretty to look at, I don't really have any need for it myself.”

“Yes, well, I didn't think it suited you. I still don't. As a matter of fact-” He broke off when the boy suddenly became a wolf, and smiled soothingly when his snout wrinkled. “Don't fret now, Warlock. Even alphas can't quite control transforming when first presenting. You'll gain yourself back soon.”

“You know, some kids hate being people shaped and refuse to transform back. I'm sure there'll be a few of those in your class.” Crowley scratched him behind the ears and laughed at the way his tail thumped.

“I was certainly of that mind,” Aziraphale admitted with a warm smile. “If I could read whilst wolf-shaped, I may have been one of the woodland alphas.”

Crowley raised his eyebrows and gave Aziraphale another, more obvious, once over. He had manicured hands, a waistcoat, and pressed trousers. “No offense here, but you don't seem the type.”

Aziraphale wiggled, as much a sign of his amusement as the laughter that bubbled out. “My dear, neither do you. But I can assure you I’m as comfortable in the wild as I am here, but one learns one’s overall preferences with time.”

“Yeeaahhh, can't see it, sorry.”

Aziraphale lifted a brow, still thoroughly amused by him. “Crowley, are you making judgments of someone you hardly know? In front of your own young cousin?”

Crowley raised his hands. “I'm just saying with how buttoned up and proper you look I can't see you roughing it up in the woods.”

Aziraphale rose, neatly straightening his waistcoat. “I don’t know the last time you transformed, but I don’t recall buttons being involved.” And in his place was a wolf. He wasn’t what anyone would call sleek, his white fur curly, but he was enormous. Nearly a metre tall, toe to ear, the ice-eyed alpha did indeed look as if he’d survive the wilderness easily enough.

“Oh,” Crowley breathed without really meaning to. His cheeks went pink when he realised he'd spoken out loud, but he couldn't help the way his fingers itched to sink into the white mane around his neck or the way his instincts insisted he submissively bare his throat. He bobbed his head instead, swallowing hard. “Yup. You, er, definitely look like you can hold your own.”

Transforming had been a mistake. With every inhale, it was only omega - one to claim and one to protect - and the instincts were so much harder to fight when like this. It was part of what made living in the woods easier, part of the draw in rejecting a human lifestyle. He stepped closer, circling the couch with a low, predatorial sound.

He was a smidge taller than the back of the couch, and Warlock watched him with wide eyes and a cautiously wagging tail. His own instincts were a confused jumble, so many of them too new to sort, so he wasn’t sure if he needed to be afraid of the white wolf as he approached again or accepting of his presence. Caught, he stayed still even when Aziraphale’s mouth opened. Teeth white and large, jaw strong enough to crunch bone, he plucked Warlock up by the scruff as delicately as Aziraphale’s hands handled a teacup. With a little wiggle of his tail and a mischievous glance at Crowley, he swiped the pup and disappeared amidst the shelves.

Crowley stared after them for a moment, trying to get his rapidly beating heart to not thump its way right out of his chest. Though the moment that curly white tail disappeared around a shelf and didn't reappear it jumped for an entirely different reason. An alpha, a transformed alpha, had just run off with his newly presented pup.

He shot off the couch and around the same bookshelf only to discover no white wolf or his pup. “Aziraphale?”

It was part test, part game. Aziraphale wanted to ensure the omega cared enough about a missing pup to follow, wanted to see if the omega would find them, and he just wanted the pup. A brand new omega to keep safe from anyone who might harm him, even though there were no threats in the bookshop. The game was simple keep-away. So he headed for the stairs, instincts guiding him towards his nest where all the things most important to him should be.

He felt like he was being led in bloody circles, and probably was. Crowley didn't know the shop like the owner did, like the alpha, and quickly became turned around. When he passed by the exact same globe for the third time Crowley let out a rare growl.

Well. If he couldn't find them using his eyes, his nose would have to do. Following Aziraphale’s scent would be useless, the entire shop was permeated with it, but Warlock's… Warlock's he could follow. The new toffee and apple scent wound around shelves and tables in a zig-zag like manner, around the far walls of the shop, and then a sharp turn… up.

Crowley stopped dead at the foot of the spiral stairs, eyes still following the curve of them and the railings above. He could recall Aziraphale saying he lived upstairs, it was ‘off-limits.’ He scowled at the stairs and took a very deliberate step onto them because if Aziraphale hadn't wanted him going up there, he shouldn't have nabbed his pup.

He shouldn’t have, no, and at least had the presence of mind to not actually try going into his nest. That was an overwhelming sort of pressure he wouldn’t put any omega through, not a fresh one and especially not two who hardly knew him. He’d settled Warlock on the floor instead, nuzzling the tiny pup and satisfying both sets of instincts.

When Crowley made his way up the stairs and down the hall, it was to find the wolves in front of a door. Aziraphale’s tail thumped against the floor in pleased wags, and Warlock was tucked between two large paws, a strikingly dark blotch against all the white, and he looked as smug as a pup could, an alpha hovering over him.

Crowley huffed at the sight of them, tension melting away now that he could see his pup was safe… and shielded by an alpha. There was some small anxiety about approaching an alpha protecting a pup, but Crowley marched down the hall all the same. “Thought you didn't want to give me any more stress today,” he said and knelt in front of them.

Aziraphale’s tail thumped harder, faster. His instincts swirled and leapt in his mind, a loop of “good omega, brave omega, protective omega, mate.” It was an effort to keep himself from surging forward and latching onto his throat. It was more dangerous in this shape. Not to mention the base awfulness of marking someone without permission. Abruptly, human knees bumped Crowley’s. Warlock stayed tucked between them, but Aziraphale cleared a human throat. “So sorry, dear boy. Instincts, you understand.”

“R-right. Instincts.” They hadn't been this close before, not downstairs and not the other day, close enough to feel a slight warmth there their knees brushed. “'S alright.”

Aziraphale offered a smile, but too much of him was still too aware of the fact that he had a potential mate right outside his nest. He rose quickly, scooping up Warlock on the way. The pup grunted his disapproval, which helped the smile soften. “Now you didn’t protest when I scruffed you. This is just as dignified, I should think.”

Crowley chuckled and pushed himself to his feet, still feeling somewhat off kilter. This alpha was charming and kind and had protected a pup that wasn't even his, both when it had been needed and when it didn't. It did something floppy to his insides that he was terrified to examine right here and now. “Yeah, he, er, doesn't do physical affection much. Weird pup.”

“Now, there’s nothing at all wrong with that. It just makes it mean more when he’s in the mood. Regardless, his legs are a bit short and the steps a bit awkward.” Aziraphale scratched him behind the ear and held him out. “Here you are.”

“Thanks,” Crowley murmured as he took him and tucked Warlock against his chest. There was still a lingering scent of Aziraphale on his fur and Crowley was struggling to be upset by that.

“Of course. Were he mine, I'm quite sure I would've been beside myself the whole morning.” Aziraphale folded his hands, a little sad that they were empty. “Why don't I walk you to the door? He could do with some time in his nest.”

“Oh, er, sure. Yeah.” Crowley followed him back down the hall and stairs, right behind that bourbon and chocolate scent. He didn't know how to feel about how much he liked it. It would be something to examine later, when he wasn't right in the middle of it. “You know, I didn't peg you as someone who was good with pups- Er… that sounded better in my head.”

“It isn't the pups which made me turn away from teaching, my dear.” Aziraphale smiled, pausing at the doorway. “But I'll take the compliment you intended.”

Part of him wanted to ask about it, but he couldnʼt tell if it was because he just wanted to know more about Aziraphale or if it was his tendency to ask too many questions. There were some questions, however, that he couldn't resist. “So am I going to be banned again when I leave?”

“Oh, Crowley, really.” Aziraphale huffed at him. “I would be quite happy to have you and Warlock back at any time. Particularly if I'm open. You'll give me an opportunity to close.”

Crowley laughed. “You could just stay closed if you don't want to be open.”

“That would hardly be sporting.” Aziraphale beamed, bright as the sun, and gave another one of those wiggles. “Ah! But I wonder if I might have your card? Two of them, if you would.”

“Oh, er, sure.” He reached into his jacket with a free hand to produce two business cards. “Why two, though? Worried you'd lose one?”

“Oh, no. I take good care of my things. But Ms. Hensley. She owns the coffee shop across the street, you see, but she wants a larger location. And to sell her own. And it's so difficult to separate the decent estate agents from the wretched ones.” Aziraphale tipped his head just so. “I thought, being in the business, you might... know someone.”

Crowley chuckled and grinned. Soho real-estate was expensive any way you sliced it, any property here could net him a big enough commission to settle at least a few debts. “I think I could get her in touch with someone.”

“Lovely. And do you only work with businesses or are you familiar with residential properties?”

“If it pays, I'll do it. Not picky, me.”

“Alright. Do a good job with Ms. Hensley, and we'll talk. But keep in mind, this isn't a business arrangement. It's a friendly one.”

Crowley cocked his head to the side, studying him. “Does that mean we're friends, then?”

“It means we're friendly. If that's acceptable.”

“I suppose I can be alright with that.”

“Good. Warlock and I, however, are friends.”

The pup made a sound that was the equivalent of a laugh, tail beating against Crowley’s chest even as he hid his furry face.

Aziraphale smiled. “I hope the rest of your day goes well, Crowley. Mind how you go.”

Crowley laughed for him. “Thanks. You too, Aziraphale.” He smiled and waved as he left, but the second the shop door had closed behind him, he found he didn't actually want to leave. He missed that rich alpha scent and how cosy and safe the shop had felt. “Come on, pup,” he murmured instead. “Let's get you home.”

Chapter Text

He felt guilty the whole way home. Glad that he'd found Aziraphale since that, apparently, was going to come in handy. And since his cousin didn't exactly have many friends. His social life, at least since Warlock had known him, seemed pretty nonexistent. So having a friend didn't seem so bad.

Plus, the alpha actually had a lot of neat stuff in his very packed business.

Still, though, it was nice to be home and he relaxed enough to have two legs the moment Crowley put him down on the floor. “Are you mad at me?”

Crowley sighed and ruffled his hair. “I'm not mad, hellspawn. Just wish you coulda sent me a text. I about turned this flat inside out lookin' for you.”

Warlock looked at his feet, then back up. “You walked away. So- so I was mad at you.”

“I know, I'm sorry. Think you can forgive me?”

Warlock jerked his shoulders. “What was the call about?”

“That was just Beez wanting to know my plan for, well, Aziraphale’s shop… and to berate me about not being able to convince him to sell.”

Then he didn't know if he wanted to forgive Crowley yet. It sounded like a lame call to him. “Do you have to sell it? Since you're doing the other place now?”

Crowley hummed, considering. “I'll get reprimanded for sure. But the other sales should cover it.”

“Okay.” His ears flattened, hands disappearing into his pockets. “I still like him. Aziraphale, I mean. He's okay. And he... My dad never transformed. That I saw. He never played with me like that.”

Crowley hadn't either, hadn't transformed at all in years. Being wolf made everything so much… more. Instincts and senses both heightened. And while he'd grated at the last lawyer who'd implied pups needed both an omega and an alpha to grow up properly, if Warlock liked him… “If you want to visit with Aziraphale I wouldn't mind. Seems to be an alright sort.”

“Y-yeah. He was... He told me- He said being an alpha wasn't as great as people like to say. That there were bad parts just like there are with being an omega.” Warlock poked the toe of his shoe against the floor. “The only time he growled was at some other alpha who was looking at me weird.”

Protecting a pup he didn't know, that wasn't his. Crowley’s stomach did a funny little flip at that and it was getting harder and harder to ignore the way his instincts wanted to insist that he'd found a potential mate. “I'm glad you found him, then. He's right, too. Being an alpha has its own challenges.”

Warlock nodded. “Can I... Can I go to my nest now?”

“Of course you can. I'll be out here if you need anything.”

“Are you still working?”

Oh, right, he hadn't told him yet. “Nah, while you were runnin' away I told Beez you weren't feelin' okay so I took the day off.”

Warlock lit up before he could remind himself it was cooler and safer to not care at all. “The whole rest of the day?”

Crowley smirked and put a hand on his hip. “Yes, hellspawn, the whole day. Tomorrow too. Got a sick pup to care for, after all.”

Warlock quickly schooled his features into something that almost wasn't excited, but couldn't quite hide his eyes. Eventually, he was going to get sunglasses like Crowley. “Can we, y'know, maybe watch a movie later?”

“Sure, I'll even let you pick.”

“Okay. Um.” Warlock looked as if he was considering asking something, but stopped and shook his head before heading for his nest. “See you later.”

“Oh, sure.” Crowley watched him go with the distinct feeling like he was missing something. Unfortunately what his brain insisted he was missing was someone who smelled of bourbon and chocolate, which was not helping. He gave himself a shake that didn't help in the slightest and made for his office. Just because he wasn't on company time didn't mean he couldn't do some initial research on that coffee shop.

It took some time, enough for Warlock to find comfort in his nest and the familiar scents within. It also gave him some time to imprint his new scent into the blankets and Crowley wasn’t at all surprised to find both couch pillows missing when he emerged from his office later. It wasn’t abnormal for an omega to want as many pillows as could be in a nest, and it was hard to find the exact right balance at first. If he wanted the couch pillows back, they’d have to go shopping.

After a movie and popcorn, wherein Warlock spent more than half of it with his wolf-pup head on Crowley’s knee. It was still hard to control the transformations, and would be for a few more days.

“Do I really have to go to school?” he grumbled later that night, new pillows on his bed and one of Crowley’s nearby. He’d said he didn’t want it, but Crowley knew better.

“I'm sorry, kiddo, but I can't ignore work forever and you can't avoid school forever either,” Crowley said from the chair at his bedside. “I know it’s not fun, but just think: now that omega in your class that was being bullied won't be so alone.”

“Oh, great, so we’ll both get bullied.”

“I meant you can support each other. Maybe even become friends.”

Warlock jerked his shoulders. He didn’t have friends. He hadn’t been that good at making them in New York, and he definitely wasn’t good at making them in London. “I guess.”

Crowley squeezed his shoulder. “Just give it a try for me? I'm sure they appreciate you standing up for them.”

“Maybe.” Warlock drew his knees up and rested his chin on them. “Are you gonna come tell the teacher I presented or whatever?”

“I do have to let the school know, yes. And I'm sure you won't be the last of your classmates to present this year.”

“Can I… Can I call you if I get made fun of?”

“Of course you can. You can call me any time and I promise I'll pick up. No matter what.”

“Okay,” he sighed. “Do you think maybe we can go see Aziraphale again? Like after school or- or this weekend or something.”

“We sure can,” Crowley said, perhaps more eagerly than he'd intended. “Er, I mean, I'm sure he won't mind us visiting.”

Warlock nodded, scent spiking with an excitement he tried his best to hide. “Okay. And, um… Why don’t, um, why don’t you ever change? Into a wolf?”

“Er…” That was a loaded question, but one he'd expected Warlock to ask eventually. Crowley sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “'S a bit of a story; you sure you wanna hear it?”

He shrugged. “Yeah?”

“Well, alright. You know how Aziraphale said when he was a pup he didn't want to change back? Well, that's pretty common, actually. Most don't stick with it for more than a few weeks or a month or two at the most. Humans get running water and electricity and opposable thumbs.” He wiggled both of his and Warlock hid a little laugh.

“Humans get the better end of the stick, in my opinion, but pretty much all pups go through a phase of not wanting to be human-shaped. Homework, responsibilities, homelife, stress - it's a lot for someone who's still growing. And being wolf is easier. Simpler. Got no responsibilities as a wolf.

“I, of course, went through that phase. School was getting to be too much, most of my friends had started to move on, pressure to get a job, home wasn't very fun. So I changed and ran off into the countryside. It was great for a while, till winter came. By then I'd been a wolf for a good four months, I think, and, well, wolves don't take medicine either. I still had my mind, of course, and I knew it had been some time since I'd had my suppressants and I didn't want to have a heat in the middle of bloody nowhere with who knew what kind of alphas in the vicinity.

“So I figured it was about time to change back and deal with the mess I'd made. But… but I couldn't. I couldn't change back. No matter how hard I tried, it just didn't happen.” Crowley clenched his eyes shut. “I can’t tell you how bloody terrified I was of being stuck like that. I had a den, of sorts, but it wasn't nearly enough to survive a winter, I had no pack, I had no one but myself.

“I eventually, somehow, found my way into a nearby village. I was cold, I was hungry, I was scared. I don't know how I got there and some of my memories of that time are fuzzy at best, but I did eventually wake up in a hospital, human-shaped.

“After that I… I got worried I'd forget how to change back again, that I'd get stuck like that again and not be able to go back. So I… don't. Not if I can help it. Which probably sounds really dumb but-” He shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“Do you... think I'll forget?”

Crowley ruffled his hair and shook his head. “No, I don't think you will. It's a pretty rare thing.”

“Oh. Is it true that sometimes... sometimes mates transform together?”

His cheeks pinked, but Warlock had presented and it was better he have accurate information than none at all. “Y-yes, sometimes. Usually during matched cycles, it can be… difficult not to.”

He nodded, tugging at one of his blankets. “Would you if you had an alpha?”

“I… I don't know. Maybe? It's not something I've given much thought to.” Not in a long time, anyway.

“Okay.” There weren't many questions Warlock could ask about finding and having an alpha, not when Crowley hadn't. “Is heat... Like... Does it- Does it, like, hurt?”

“No. No, it doesn't hurt,” Crowley said quickly, trying to ignore how warm his face was getting. “The first few times will be… uncomfortable. It'll feel more like you're having a particularly nasty fever but without the chills and headache. And later, well-” Crowley cleared his throat. “It's a lot of instincts that can be difficult to manage. And we can discuss what you'd like to do when that time comes.”

Warlock nodded again, his own cheeks heating up. “If you could be an alpha instead of an omega... would you be?”

He actually had to pause and think about it, the question unexpected. “No… no, I don't think I would. Being an omega has its challenges, but I like being able to point to the things I've achieved and tell everyone I told them I could do it.”

“Like... like adopting me.”

“Exactly. And we're well on our way to having those papers signed.”

Warlock smiled slightly, wanting to hope but afraid to. They'd have to tell the lawyer he'd presented too. “You gotta sell a café first.”

Crowley laughed and ruffled his hair. “No problem. Selling a place when the owner wants to is a lot easier than convincing them to sell in the first place.”

“Yeah. Um. Thanks, Crowley.”

“You're welcome. Being here for you's what family's supposed to do.”

It was only a little like what he'd been used to before. While more attentive than his dad, mom had been just as bad in some ways. Crowley was the first adult in Warlock's life who'd ever focused on him so completely. He made him feel safe, even without the scent of strong alpha.

He let Crowley ruffle his hair again and went to bed for the night, feeling a little better about his presentation between Aziraphale and Crowley both supporting him, so he was hopeful the next school day wouldn't be completely awful.

The bell above the door jingled. From his booth, laptop in front of him and tea at his elbow, Aziraphale looked up with a small smile. When Ms. Hensley had told him she hadn't seen anything of Crowley the day before, he'd been hopeful to see the estate agent come by. He could admit, privately, that he wanted to see the omega again.

Without a pup clouding his vision. Or his own canine instincts urging him forward. The ones that clung to his human form were still eager, tail beating against the side of his chair as he watched Crowley step inside. Those dratted sunglasses were still on his face, but he knew the moment Crowley saw him. And he couldn't help but smile.

He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised to see Aziraphale at the coffee shop, but seeing him outside of his anachronistic shop did feel a little bit like seeing a time traveller.

A very handsome time traveller.

Crowley tried not to smile back, but it was difficult when Aziraphale actually seemed pleased to see him, his tail giving him away easily. He made his way over and leaned his hip on the edge of the table, attempting to project an air of cool nonchalance. “Avoiding customers or making sure I treat your neighbour right?”

“A bit of both. Additionally, I like to work in different environments now and again. Whoever you sell this place to in future had best be amenable to visitors.” Aziraphale folded his spectacles. “How did Warlock get off to school today?”

“Reluctantly,” Crowley sighed. “But that's nothing new and he didn't run away again so I'm counting it as a victory.”

“I'm sure it wasn't any easier for you. You'd know what it's like to go to class as a new omega.”

“In some ways I think he has it harder than I did.” Crowley slid into the chair opposite Aziraphale and set his chin in his hand. “He was convinced he was going to be an alpha based off his doctors’ predictions. ‘Bout as accurate as the weather forecast if you ask me.”

“Oh, for Heaven's sake.” Aziraphale looked as displeased as he had when he'd found out Crowley was an estate agent. “He did mention that to me, but I didn't want to alarm him with irritation. Why would they put such pressure on the boy? I'm sure he's been through enough.”

Crowley returned the look, just as displeased. “It's the new thing they're doing. Since genetic markers for both are the same till you present, they're trying to predict it with environmental factors. And it doesn't help that some of the kids in his class have been bullying other omegas. I tried having a talk with his teacher but she's a beta and said nothing's going on.”

Aziraphale nearly offered to talk to her himself, but that was clearly going too far. He hardly knew the man, and it wasn't his place to undermine Crowley’s authority anyway. Being an alpha should not make his word more important than that of the boy's legal guardian. “I suppose there's no one else for you to speak with or you would have by now. It's terrible the things some parents raise their children to believe.”

“Already went to the headteacher, and she wouldn't do anything either. Warlock…” Crowley trailed off at first; there hadn't really been any adults he could actually talk to about this. “He had some behavioural problems at first. Nothing out of the ordinary, honestly. But he was acting out at school and his attendance hasn't been the best with all the doctor visits after the accident. So they labelled him a troublemaker, and now anything he says just gets overlooked.”

Aziraphale frowned. “Would switching schools at this point be out of the question? There are several nearby.”

“I've thought about it, but haven't brought it up to Warlock yet. The grief counsellor said keeping everything as consistent as possible would help him settle and process everything.”

“Ah, yes. Well, far be it for me to try overriding a counsellor. I hope today goes better for him than he expects. I did my best to assure him that there was nothing at all wrong with his presentation, but it's easier to hear multiple peers than one adult.”

“Can say that again. I hope him and the other omegas band together or somethin'. He's had the worst time tryin' to make friends.”

Aziraphale softened. “The poor dear. He's clearly trying to be very... cool and grown, but he'd be much better off being himself.”

Crowley scowled and leaned back with his arms crossed. “I blame Thaddeus for that.” At the slight furrow of Aziraphale's brow Crowley backtracked a touch. “Oh, er, his dad. The man was as detached as anything. Never had any time for the kid stuff, wanted him to grow up fast. Though, honestly, Harriet wasn't much better.”

“Ah, yes. He did say they argued often.” Aziraphale looked down, fidgeting with the arms of his spectacles. “He also told me he isn't sure why he even misses them, but grief isn't a rational sort of thing.”

“It's not, no. And I wouldn't say they were bad, really. Just… absent, I guess. Detached.”

“Yes... If it matters, he had some very complimentary things to say about you.”

Crowley flushed and shifted around in his chair. “R-really?”

“Oh, yes.” Aziraphale reached out and patted his arm. “I'll save you both the embarrassment, but just know he loves you very much.”

“O-oh,” Crowley murmured, unable to fight back the warmth in his face. “He, er, likes you, too. A lot, actually. Never seen him take to someone so fast.”

“Then I'm honoured.” Aziraphale smiled, slipped his spectacles back onto his nose. “And I believe I've taken up enough of your time. Do try the raspberry scones, my dear. They're Ms. Hensley's personal recipe, and she appreciates a compliment as much as anyone else.”

He smiled, even though he could tell when he was being dismissed, and stood. “Thanks for the recommendation and, ah, enjoy your writing, then.”

“Thank you. If you wanted to get a second scone and bring it to me on your way out, I wouldn't object.”

Crowley’s smile morphed into a grin. “And is there anything else you'd like me to do for you?”

“We'll see. A scone will suffice for now.”

“Alright. One scone, coming up.” This time of day wasn't terribly busy in the small coffee shop and the aforementioned Ms. Hensley was there at the counter when he approached. The way she eyed him, eyes sliding down then back up quickly, made him want to preen a little. It had been awhile since anyone had shown any sort of obvious interest.

Crowley smiled and leaned against the counter. “Hi, you must be Ms. Hensley, right?”

“Oh, yes, I am.” Her eyes fluttered, brown and pretty. “And that would make you Mr. Crowley. Mr. Fell didn't say nearly enough about you, I think.”

It was an obvious flirtation and one that made him flush a little. “Just Crowley, please. Mr. Crowley was my father.”

She giggled at the joke and leaned on her side of the counter. “Well, it's lovely to meet you then, 'just' Crowley.”

Aziraphale tried not to watch them, lips pressing together and jealousy having to be carefully removed from his scent. He was nearly ready to walk right up to them with a growl in his throat, and haul his potential mate away. But he didn't. He had no right to do so, just a strong desire.

They exchanged a few more pleasantries. Crowley found her sweet enough and, honestly, it was just nice to be flirted with even if she was a beta and knew it wouldn’t go anywhere. He left the counter with two raspberry scones, a drink with more sugar than coffee, and a promise from Ms. Hensley that she would email him photos to start a sale listing. The lingering scent of… jealousy when he returned to Aziraphale’s table was surprising. He hoped he hadn't been encroaching on the alpha’s territory by flirting back with her. “Er, raspberry, right?”

“Yes, thank you.” Aziraphale breathed in caramel apples and had to remind himself that he couldn't just take a bite out of him. Particularly not since the omega clearly wasn't interested. “That went well for you.”

“Suppose so. Said she's gonna email me photos for a listing. This place should sell pretty quick; Soho's a hot commodity.”

“I'm well-aware. It always has been, really.” Aziraphale nibbled on his scone, eyes closing and tail returning to its easy wag on a low, pleased sound. “Mm. It certainly helps that this business is successful. Anyone who wants to open a new coffee shop in its place should be equally so.”

“Can't guarantee the next owner'll do coffee, but the success of this business will help it stand out.”

“Yes, well, you would be the expert. Have you been in this line of work for long?”

“Not terribly long,” Crowley said with a small laugh. “Just a few years. They started me off as a secretary, just answering phones, the pillocks. But I proved to have a knack for talking people into things so they gave me a pay raise and said don't screw up.”

Aziraphale huffed. “Well, at least you were given an opportunity for advancement. That's more than can be said for far too many omegas. No matter how many equality laws are passed, people always seem to have a knack at evading them.”

“You're tellin' me. Now if only I could get the courts to actually bloody follow the laws we have, that'd be great.”

Aziraphale arched a brow. “Any laws in particular?”

Crowley sighed. “Nothing concrete, really. They've been trying to deny me actually adopting Warlock in full for months. Everytime we go before the judge it's just a call for more impromptu home visits and calls with social workers.”

Aziraphale set his scone down with an affronted gasp. On anyone else, it may have been comical exaggeration. But from perked ears to dropped jaw, every bit of him was sincere. “How awful! What on Earth would be- Goodness. Because you're-” He lowered his voice. “Because you're unclaimed?”

“Yup,” Crowley said with a pop. “Unclaimed and unwed. Obviously unfit to raise a pup. Course they can't, actually, find anything substantial at fault with me. Nothing that holds up proper, anyway. But the lawyer fees are nothing to sneeze at.”

“I can imagine.” Aziraphale frowned, removing his spectacles. “It's ludicrous reasoning. He's happy with you, and you so obviously care for him. I don't see why-”

As worked up as he was, he didn't notice Ms. Hensley's approach. Not until she set a fresh cuppa at his elbow and earned herself a fierce, low growl for daring to come near him and his omega. When her jaw dropped, his eyes went wide. “Oh, my dear girl! Terribly sorry about that. My deepest apologies.”

Crowley’s eyes went wide as well, but they were hidden by his glasses, the low sound making his stomach drop and swoop. He watched her quickly scurry away with hastily thrown together apologies and swallowed hard when he realised he wanted her to come back just so Aziraphale might do it again. “A-Aziraphale?”

Aziraphale cleared his throat and saved his work, closing his laptop with a neat click. “Goodness. I'm so sorry, Crowley. I wasn't paying any attention, and she gave me a bit of a start. I don't believe she's ever heard me quite so... agitated before.”

“That's, ah, that's alright.” He had to take a large gulp of his coffee to wet his suddenly dry throat. “Didn't mean to get you all riled up.” Though if it meant he'd growl like that again, Crowley certainly wouldn't be opposed to it.

“I understand. I truly am sorry, Crowley. I didn't mean to frighten you.”

“You didn't,” Crowley said quickly, face heating a bit at how fast he was to reassure him. He was far from frightened. Very, very far from frightened.

“Are you sure, my dear? I-” Aziraphale stopped, brows lifting high as he actually took in Crowley’s scent. It was certainly not fright. “Ah.”

“I'msorry,” he said even faster than before, certain his face was as red as his hair. Crowley stumbled to his feet, utterly mortified at how a simple growl had him wanting to bend over and present in the middle of bloody public. “I should- I should go.”

“N-no, I- Gosh.” Aziraphale wanted to growl again, this time in command.

“I think I've embarrassed myself enough.”

Aziraphale blinked at him. “Oh, but- No. No, I- I understand, of course. It's a... It's a natural reaction to a-an alpha. Nothing to be embarrassed about. I know better than to take such things personally. Yes.”

Crowley’s fingers twitched. He didn't actually want to run off, it had just been such a long time since anyone had been able to get such a reaction out of him. He sat back down carefully, nervous fingers tapping lightly on the table top. “Right. Course. Natural reaction.”

“Quite.” Aziraphale chuckled, the sound strained at the edges. “I'm well aware of my, er... Well. Nevermind that. I'll just promise not to growl or any such thing in your presence again. I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable around me.”

Which was exactly the opposite of what he wanted. He liked it. Though it was probably for the better if he was going to act a fool about it like this. There was no reason to go getting himself all excited over an alpha who was clearly not interested. “It's fine. I'm an adult, really should have a-a better handle on myself.”

“My dear, I did just growl at a harmless friend because she got near you. Instincts do take over now and again.”

Crowley stared at him. “You- you growled at her because she got near me?”

“Well, I...” It was Aziraphale’s turn to blush now, cheeks turning a light pink. “I was already irritated on your behalf. It just rather... It spilled out.”

Crowley cocked his head to the side, curious and prone to asking too many questions. “Then what was that jealousy I smelled earlier?”

The pink deepened. “Oh, Crowley, I'm terribly sorry. Again. I- You're free to do as you please. Obviously. I'm sure you're quite used to being... To others finding you attractive.”

It was much more fun to be on this end of things and not be the embarrassed one for a change. He set his chin in his hand and grinned. Had his tail been out it would have been twitching. “Are you saying that jealousy was directed at me?”

“How- My dear fellow, do you mean to tell me that you didn't know that?”

“Hadn't a clue.”

“Then who did you- Ms. Hensley,” he realised with a giggle. “Oh, good Lord. Not at all, dear boy. There are others I could've given your card to were I involved with her in some way.”

Crowley smirked a little; as nice as it had been to have the interest of the beta shop owner, it was even nicer to have from an alpha. It satisfied the instinctual want to be desirable, wanted, and it was even better that Aziraphale hadn't acted on it. “You're a very strange alpha. Most would have marched over there and set the record straight.”

Aziraphale scoffed. “I may be able to become an animal, but that does not mean I have to behave like one. We are not romantically involved, and if we were, I would trust you not to take it beyond a harmless flirtation.”

“Then your trust would be well placed,” Crowley said with a laugh. “I don't mix work and personal. It never ends well.”

Aziraphale wondered, then, where that placed him. Would Crowley consider him a business contact, considering how they’d met the first time? Not to mention him giving Crowley Ms. Hensley’s name and the other names he had in his proverbial back pocket. Or would he be considered personal due to the meeting with Warlock? Used to having very solid ground beneath his feet, Aziraphale took a sip of his tea in an effort to find something to hold on this shaky terrain. “I suppose not. Helping people find homes and livelihoods likely has many emotional pitfalls.”

“It can, yeah. And you'd be surprised how many people seem to think there's a special list of properties to be bought right now and they only have to do or say the right thing to be on it.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “I’m sure that isn’t how it works, and I’ve never bought nor sold property.”

“That really isn't how it works.” Crowley smiled and slid a foot across the floor beneath the table to bump the shoe of the alpha across from him. “I'd say I'm surprised you haven't bought or sold anything, but that shop's been in your family so I suppose it isn't that surprising.”

“Yes, and I’ve lived in it since my parents passed on. The lawyers handled the sale of their home, so all I needed to do was sign a few papers.” Aziraphale shrugged lightly, nudging Crowley’s shoe in turn, fascinated by him. “I’d need very specific circumstances to require a property of my own.”

“Yes, you are very attached to that bookshop. Suits you though, I think.”

“As it should if I’m… What was it?” He smiled, bright with amusement. “Over four hundred years old.”

Crowley laughed, enjoying the way Aziraphale’s smile seemed to make everything brighter. “Thanks for going along with that. He likes to call me old so I just… lean into it.”

“Yes, well, that isn’t a bit surprising. He asked me if I was a ghost because I dress like one. Blunt pup.”

“I mean, can you blame him? You wouldn't look out of place at a Victorian reenactment.”

“I am comfortable. And, well, the coat is actually one hundred eighty years old. It’s been kept in tip-top condition, but I fancied it enough to start wearing it.”

“It looks good, too. You've obviously continued to take good care of it.”

“I do try. I wouldn’t be much of an antiques specialist if I ruined my antiques, after all.”

“That's true. You've got to be pretty knowledgeable about a lot of different things to keep everything in your shop in good condition.”

“Yes.” Aziraphale leaned forward just a hair, his eagerness clear and that bourbon scent getting lighter in his delight. “My family’s always been the sort to collect things, you see, so the knowledge on how to care for everything has been carefully passed down through the generations. Some of the more creative aspects have been lost - I have a great-grandmother who enjoyed blowing glass, for example - but her pieces are still kept cool and crisp and uncracked. I know how to polish them without eroding any of the colours.”

“Wow, blowing glass. That's- That's terribly interesting, actually.” Crowley smiled at the increased wag of his tail at the encouragement. “I'm afraid my family history isn't nearly so interesting. Unless you like sheep herding in Scotland.”

His ears perked. “On the contrary, I do find that intriguing. I would rather herd than hunt. It was part of my decision to stay human. Warlock said you were the only one he had on his mother’s side of the family, though, so I suppose...”

“Ah, yeah, sorry. Parents sold the whole lot after I moved away. Didn't really have anyone left to help run it proper. Though it was great fun runnin' wild in the country as a pup.”

“Oh, I’ve no doubt. I went to Wales before uni and spent several months doing just that. It’s a bit difficult to be, ah, wild growing up around antiques and politicians, so it was the first chance I really had.” He shrugged lightly, watching Crowley above his cup as he took another sip. “What brought you to London?”

“Ah-” Crowley looked down at his own cup, fingers playing along the warm sides. “Had a bad experience and wanted to get as far away from 'wild' as I could. The city seemed perfect for that.”

Aziraphale nudged his shoe beneath the table, smile softening. “I’m so sorry, my dear. I’m sure you’ll do what you can to guide Warlock in avoiding or navigating his own bad experiences.”

Crowley glanced up and nudged him back with a smile. “Certainly tryin'. The pup's had enough bad experiences already, I think.”

“He certainly has, poor thing. I do hope you’ll bring him to visit again soon.”

“Oh, I definitely will.” Crowley bit his lip and considered his next question. Alphas didn't often like someone else taking initiative… but this one seemed different. “And, ah, I hope you wouldn't mind me dropping by without him on occasion.”

“Gosh. Ah. No! No, I wouldn’t mind at all. That would be tickety-boo.”

“Good. I hoped you'd say that.”

“I'd hope you wouldn't offer if you didn't want to visit.” Aziraphale smiled again, then waved a hand towards Crowley’s wrist. “Spare the time, my dear?”

“Huh- Oh, yeah. Sure.” Crowley slipped his sleeve back and visibly paled. “Fuck. It's just past two. I'm supposed to be back at the office by now.”

“And I have a meeting with a client at half-past.” Aziraphale wiggled out of his seat and gathered his things, quick and neat. “We'll have to do a proper meal sometime soon, rather than scones and caffeine. Yes?”

Crowley followed him up, significantly less neat. “Yes! I-I mean, yeah. That sounds good.” His cheeks pinked as he tried to tone down any enthusiasm. It was just a meal.

Aziraphale smiled, tail giving an eager little swish. “Wonderful. Come by soon, my dear. If the door is locked, just call the shop. I always answer if I'm home.”

“You, er, don't have a cellphone, do you?”

“What on Earth would I want with one of those?”

Crowley stared at him a moment before he burst out laughing. The few other patrons looked up from their food or drink at the sudden outburst and Crowley made a valiant attempt to rein it in. “I'm- Ha- I'm sorry. Of- Snk- Of course you don't.”

Aziraphale wasn't entirely sure if he was being made fun of, but he handled it with the same basic cheer he always employed. “Quite. Now shall we?”

“Heh, yeah, sure.” He hadn't meant to, and it wasn't intentional, but as they turned to leave together his hand fell on Aziraphale’s upper arm.

Aziraphale didn't pause, but it did surprise him. He wasn't entirely used to being touched. “I take it you don't still believe I'm a hardarse.”

Crowley laughed to hopefully cover up his embarrassment over just reaching out to someone who was practically a total stranger. Though Aziraphale wasn't shaking him off, so he left his hand where it was. “Would you believe me if I said that was said more out of frustration than reality?”

“I may.” Aziraphale’s smile softened as they reached the door, and he held it open. “After you.”

“A gentleman Victorian ghost, I see,” Crowley said as he stepped through, cheeks pink. He couldn't remember the last time someone had held a door for him.

“If I'm going to play a role, I may as well play it to the fullest.” Aziraphale walked down the steps with him, stopping on the sidewalk. “You frustrated me as well, but only at the end. Before that, I found you more than tolerable.”

“More than tolerable,” Crowley repeated back at him. “You know, I do believe that's the most complimentary thing you've said about me so far that wasn't in direct relation to Warlock.”

“Is it?” Aziraphale smiled brightly at him before taking his hand and lifting it to his lips. “Have a good day, Crowley.”

Oh. And definitely no one had ever kissed his hand like out of some sort of period novel. Crowley’s heart beat a little harder as he bobbed his head quickly. “Y-yeah. You too.”

With a happy little wiggle and a swish of his tail, Aziraphale turned away to stroll towards his bookshop. “Mind how you go.”

Crowley watched him go and did his best to slow his heart before it gave out entirely. How could one alpha possibly be so adorable and cheerful? And that growl… He hadn't expected to be knocked on his arse and then swept right up, but that was surely what just happened.

His phone crooning out Freddie Mercury was enough to snap him out of his stupefied state. Crowley swore. He was late, very late, but he also couldn't bring himself to be all that worried about it. Not when he had a guarantee of seeing Aziraphale again.

Chapter Text

Crowley couldn't say he liked his office, but he didn't hate it either. He figured, like any workplace, it had its pros and cons. It wasn't lit very well, was located in an older building with a boiler that clanged something awful, and only had three very small windows, none of which were anywhere near his own desk. On the other side, though, he didn't actually have to be there all that often. Most of his job was either spent out with clients or could be done from the comfort of his own home office. The pay, also, was better than expected. At least when he actually made a sale.

“Where the bloody hell've you been?”

The coworkers were another con. Crowley sighed and slid into his chair, he didn't get along with Hastur on a good day. “Working while at lunch. What have you done today?”

He got eyed suspiciously at that, which wasn't new. Hastur and his partner, Ligur, were under the impression he didn't work at all and could not be swayed otherwise. Not that it mattered to Crowley what they thought; all his pay came from commissions.

“Why don’t you let Beez worry about what we did today, eh?” Ligur growled at him, but it didn't have the same weight as an alpha’s growl. No beta could get the right pitch.

“Let Beez worry about me, and I'll let zer worry about you. How does that sound?”

The glowering continued even when the door to Beez's office slammed open. While his boss was short in stature, ze had a presence that was hard to ignore… the metallic alpha scent definitely helped there, too. Ze sent zer own frown around the small space, lingering on tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum until they ducked their heads behind their whirring computers. The frown landed on Crowley, who smiled and wiggled his fingers in a wave.

“Office, Crowley. Now,” ze said and didn't even wait for him to get up before ze marched right back in.

Welp, he didn't have much of a choice, really. Crowley clambered back to his feet, ignoring the snickers and beady eyes that followed him and were subsequently gone when he quietly shut the door behind him.

Beez's office was just as dark and dingy as the rest of Nine Circle Realty, but with the added bonus of piles and piles of paperwork. There was probably a leak somewhere, as the stain on zer office ceiling had only grown in size since the last time he'd seen it, but Crowley cared about his job enough to not mention it as he settled into the squeaky chair in front of Beez's desk. It was way too short for his noodle limbs, but such was the price he paid for a paying job.

“What's up, boss?”

Zer glare hadn't lessened a smidge even though it was now turned on zer computer screen. “You didn't get the bookshop.”

Prepared for this exact thing, Crowley was unperturbed. “Not yet, no, but I'm also not banned from the premises like Hastur and Ligur and I've gotten in good with Mr. Fell.”

The eyebrow raise he received said ze was unconvinced. “But will he sell?”

“Not yet. He's attached to the place. Sentiment. Just let me work my magic on him a little longer and I can promise I'll have something for you.” It wouldn't be the bookshop, but that coffee place was worth just as much, probably more with it not needing updates. He just needed time.

Zer black eyes narrowed at him, as if trying to suss out his lies, but they flicked back to zer computer quick enough. “You have a week to show me something or you're going back to reception.”

A week. A week was more than enough time to have the coffee shop up and listed and ready for viewing. “You got it.”

The worst thing about school was all of it. Warlock wanted to go home before he even reached his classroom. Crowley had walked him in and to the office, updating his records to reflect his presentation. He also got a new guidance counsellor, which didn't seem that bad. A bitter alpha way too close to retirement age was traded for a young omega with wolf ears perked and scent sweet enough to be soothing. She almost reminded him of Aziraphale, but she kept her tail away and didn't make him feel safe in the same way.

He was still happier in her office than he was in his classroom. When his new counsellor guided him to it, Warlock was so tense he nearly turned wolf right in front of everyone. Instead, he trudged on two legs to his desk near the front of the room, where all the “troublemakers” had to sit, and dropped his stuff. Not only was it his first day back from suspension, but it was Friday. The teacher paid less attention and the bullies knew it.

The only one up front who'd presented was an alpha and, when the teacher gave them an assignment and let them sit where they liked to complete it, Warlock found himself with a softly growling alpha at his back.

His instincts screamed at him to turn around, to keep the threat in his sights at all times, but he knew that's all the jerk wanted.

And the teacher couldn't hear him under the noise of the classroom, nor would she have understood why growling was a problem. He'd heard her brush other omega concerns off as if they didn't matter, so expected his to go no further.

He endured it quietly, ate his lunch tucked away by himself like normal, and stared at Crowley’s contact on his phone screen for way too long before ultimately deciding it didn't matter anymore than telling the teacher. No one listened to him anyway.

And the omega who he'd stood up for avoided him. Or at least she didn't approach him, which he took to be the same thing. He spent the day quietly suffering and was the first out the door when the bell rang, even though Crowley was never the first person to arrive. He could press his back against a post and hug his bag to his chest while he waited, but his scent was clouded in misery and exhaustion when the familiar Bentley pulled up and Warlock could slink inside.

Crowley could smell it the second the door was opened and watched Warlock curl around the bag in his lap and hide his face with his long hair. “That bad, eh?”

“My teacher's stupid.”

“Wanna tell me about it?”

His shoulders jerked, frown deepening. “She thinks alphas growling is them purring, and it's not.”

“No, it's not.” And of course leave it to a beta to not be able to tell the difference, especially in children. “Was someone growling at you?”

“Yeah. He always growls at omegas. He's the same jerk I got suspended about, so... So it's not like anybody would listen to me anyway.”

“Sounds like someone needs to growl at him for a change,” Crowley grumbled and resisted growling himself. It wouldn't help change anything and Warlock had been growled at enough today.

“I guess. He's the only alpha in our class so far, so nobody stands up to him.” And Warlock's attempt had backfired. “But it's not like alphas can even purr, so she's extra stupid.”

Crowley blinked once and did his best to not take his eyes off the road. “Warlock. Who told you alphas can't purr?”

“My old guidance counsellor. He said purring's for pups and omegas.”

“And that's why the old fart will die sad and alone. Alphas can purr, they just don't do it as often. It's more of a-a voluntary thing for them.”

Warlock looked unconvinced. “Dad never purred.”

Crowley pressed his lips together in a thin line to keep from saying some of the things he actually wanted to say. Because he'd tried to like Thaddeus the few times they'd been in the same vicinity and he didn't want to badmouth the guy to his own son, but… “I'm sure he did so for Harriet.” And he thought that maybe, maybe, Aziraphale would. He seemed like the type that would like to purr.

“I guess. Just 'cause they were mates?”

“Could be. Some like to keep it private, think it's a show of weakness.”

“Oh.” Warlock still thought his teacher was stupid for not being able to tell the difference yet telling omegas they were wrong, but he nodded. “Okay. I bet Aziraphale purrs. I mean, he keeps his ears and tail out.”

Crowley felt himself blush and tapped his fingers along the steering wheel. He couldn't help but wonder what it might sound like, if it would feel just as comforting as everything else about him was. “He, ah, he might. Could ask him. When we see him again. 'M sure he won't mind.”

“Okay.” Warlock stared at him, not missing the blush at all. “It's not a- a mate thing only, is it?”

“Wha- No! No, no it's not- It's not like that.”

“Oh.” Warlock eyed him, not quite sure if he believed him. “Can we go see him today?”

“I don't see why not. He was asking after you, after all.”

“What?” He sat up straighter, eyes wide. “When?”

“Er-” His flush only deepened. “Earlier today. We met up - not on purpose, mind - at the coffee shop across from his.”

Warlock's brow furrowed, but he was fascinated by the thought that an adult had remembered him and asked about him. Like he was important enough to think about. “Is that the place he wanted you to sell?”

“Yes!” Crowley said quickly, latching onto the new topic to, hopefully, save his dignity. “Yes, it is. Pretty hoppin' place, should sell quick once it's listed.”

“So he told you to go... And then he was there when you got there.” He looked unimpressed immediately. “So you went on a date.”

Crowley’s face turned as red as his hair. “N-no! We were not on a-a date. That's-that's ridiculous.”

“Why? You don't like him?”

“I didn't- I didn't say I don't like him.”

“So if he asked you on a real date, you'd say yes?”

“I- I don't know? Maybe? Why are you so interested in my love life all of a sudden?”

“You don't have a love life. That's why.”

Crowley’s shoulders went up to his ears. “Don't have to be so blunt about it,” he muttered, then blinked a handful of times. “Hold on. You… wouldn't mind if I… dated?”

Warlock's shoulders jerked. “I don't know. I guess not. If they're not jerks.”

“Gimme some credit here, I wouldn't date someone that's a jerk,” Crowley muttered. Not that he didn't have his fair share of ex's that were “jerks” - one in particular readily came to mind - but he hoped he'd grown up enough to not fall into that anymore.

“Not if you're gonna date Aziraphale.” Warlock's lips twitched at the high color still in his cousin's cheeks. His own scent had lightened considerably, cheered by both the teasing and by the idea of seeing an alpha who didn't completely suck.

“Whether or not I… date Aziraphale isn't just up to me.” Though the kiss to his hand came to mind, as did the growl, and Aziraphale had said he wanted to have a 'proper' meal. But whether that translated to date or just something friendly, he didn't know.

“He’d probably date you. You’re both weird.”

“Thank you for the shining endorsement, hellspawn.”

“You’re welcome. So are we gonna go see him or what?”

“Yes, we're almost there,” Crowley said as he manoeuvred around a slow moving lorry. “There's never anywhere to park in that part of Soho, so we'll have to walk a little.”

“Okay.” Warlock’s ears perked as he straightened in his seat, peering out of the windows with only a few nerves tight in his chest. But all seemed well and safe enough. “Did you know Aziraphale can’t drive? I didn’t know adults existed who couldn’t drive.”

Crowley laughed. “Most people here in London don't drive. Actually, it's pretty common here in Europe in general to not own a vehicle.”

That was kind of weird, and Warlock saw plenty of traffic that said otherwise, but, “People in New York didn’t own cars all the time, but everybody knows how.” Probably.

“I can guarantee you not everyone knows how to drive in New York.”

“You don’t know that,” he shot back, glad when they stopped. He spilled out of the car with his bag slung over his shoulder. It was different heading to Soho instead of stopping at home, but it was kind of cool too. A change in their Friday routine. “I bet if you asked him to go out to dinner tonight, he totally would.”

Crowley quickly followed him out and locked the Bentley behind them. While the prospect of having an actual date with Aziraphale made him feel warm all over, he wasn't convinced the alpha was that interested in him. “I'm sure he'll have seen enough of me today.”

“He still has to eat,” he pointed out, staying by Crowley’s side as they made their way down Soho’s busy sidewalk. Between the bad day and the crowd, he found his hand in Crowley’s soon enough.

And Crowley didn't mind, not at all. He was just glad for even the meagre amount of physical affection that Warlock was comfortable with. Luckily, today, he'd been able to find a place to park just a block from the bookshop and they only had to cross one street before the jingling of a bell announced their arrival. Crowley didn't see Aziraphale right away, but he had the feeling that wasn't unusual. “Hey, er, I hope you don't mind us dropping in.”

When he appeared, it was with a bright smile and a wagging tail. His smile quickly fell to Warlock, which made him perk up and briefly forget that he was holding Crowley’s hand like some pitiful little puppy. “I certainly don’t. It’s lovely to see you both. How was school today, young Warlock?”

“It sucked.”

Crowley sighed and gave his side a bump. “He had a rough time of it today.”

“So I hear. Come. I was just about to close up shop and have a bit of a snack. You can sit in the kitchen and join me, hm?”

“Okay,” Warlock readily agreed.

Aziraphale smiled at him, then at Crowley. “And you, of course.”

“Oh, thank you, I wasn’t sure if I was invited along or not,” Crowley said with a hand pressed to his chest in mock sincerity.

“Thankfully for you, I have manners. And for all I know, all you’ve eaten today is a scone. That, my dear fellow, will hardly do.” He may not have been an omega, but he didn’t hide the protective instincts that came with being an alpha. He may not have been protecting either omega from a predator, but the pup’s upset still lingered in the edges of his scent and that just wouldn’t do.

It made Crowley feel a little warm, he wasn't used to anyone wanting to take care of him. “I might be able to nibble, if you're offering.”

“Nibbles are the best I have at the moment, so that’ll do. I have some pastries from a shop I like down the way.”

“Are they selling too?” Warlock wondered, breaking away from Crowley to walk by Aziraphale.

“Good Heavens, no. I’d be terribly disappointed. They’ve been here for, oh, most of my life now. A staple of the community, really.” Aziraphale didn’t ruffle his hair, resisting the urge with some difficulty. “Now what about today was so bad?”

“My teacher thinks a growl and a purr are the same thing, so… so the one alpha in my class gets away with growling at omegas all the time.”

There was a whip crack of something in Aziraphale’s scent. It was a brief, sharp flare of something dangerous that was banked as quickly as it stirred. “How awful. And your educator… a beta?” He nodded and Aziraphale hummed. “Well, I’m sure Crowley has already assured you they are not the same.”

“I did, yes.” And because he wasn't above being a little petty and because he also just wanted to see what Aziraphale would do, he smirked a little at Warlock. “But it would seem the pup doesn't believe me that alphas can even purr at all. Something about his old counsellor saying it was for, what was that, 'pups and omegas'?”

“That’s what he said, yeah. And my dad never purred, so…”

“Mm. Are you asking for a demonstration?” Aziraphale asked, leading them towards a kitchenette in the back. He retrieved a kettle to fill up and heat.

Crowley leaned against a nearby shelf and crossed his arms. “That's a very good question.” He raised an eyebrow above his glasses in Warlock's direction.

Warlock fidgeted with his bag strap for a moment before dropping it onto a chair at the little table. “I mean... Maybe. Kinda. What makes you purr?”

A partner. The tops of Aziraphale’s cheeks turned a fetching shade of pink, and he cleared his throat. “Well... I purr rather often, admittedly. A good book and a fine tea are usually enough to set me off. Rather simple things, I suppose.” Dull.

“That's adorable,” Crowley said before he could stop himself then flushed furiously. “Er, I mean-” He covered up his mouth to keep from putting his foot in it again.

Aziraphale’s brows lifted in surprise, but then his lips curved and his purrs rumbled. It was similar to a growl, low and with an underlying viciousness that omegas just didn't have. Their purrs said, “I'm here, I'll keep you safe, I'll die for you.”

Alphas said, “I'm here, I'll keep you safe, I'll kill for you.” But it was sweet, designed to reach into an omega's instinctive desire for protection in a solely affectionate way.

And it definitely reached Crowley’s. It had been so long since he'd heard an alpha's purrs and it was a test of his willpower to not just melt into a puddle of goo right where he stood. He wanted to press his ear to Aziraphale’s chest just to hear it better. He swallowed thickly instead and bobbed his head. “See? Told ya. Alphas can purr. Just like we can.”

“It's not exactly the same, but yeah. It's still really cool.” And, while not about to melt like Crowley, it did touch something in his younger instincts. Something that made him want to hide behind Aziraphale’s legs and cling to his coattails. Like he'd be safe and warm and guarded wherever Aziraphale was. He usually felt that way when Crowley purred, but that often made him sleepy. Aziraphale’s made him feel like he could go and do anything and should. “Thanks.”

“Of course, dear boy.” Even though it had come about more because of Crowley, because of an omega's approval of him. “I'm happy to answer any alpha questions you may have.”

“It's appreciated. Firsthand accounts and all that.”

“Of course, and there are so many misunderstandings on both sides.” Aziraphale shook his head, reaching into his cupboards for a package of biscuits. And a newer pack with some more suitable to a young, American palette. It was, perhaps, a little silly to buy soft biscuits in the hopes that Crowley would bring Warlock to see him before they went bad, and he'd felt foolish in the store that morning. Shuffling his feet, hemming and hawing over the choice.

Meeting Crowley at the coffee shop later had made the trip feel worthwhile, particularly as the omega seemed amenable to a luncheon with him. He was a handsome, fascinating creature, and Aziraphale wasn't nearly suspicious enough to wonder if it was all a ploy. After all, what sort of omega - or any person - would use a pup to further their hand in business?

“Here we are.” Aziraphale set the packages down on the table, noticing the curious way Warlock eyed them. The way his floppy young ears perked with curiosity. They were already starting to straighten out, and he felt another wave of protectiveness when Warlock realised they were soft biscuits and gasped his excitement. Such an easy kindness met with such enthusiasm. His tail wagged in an easy, steady rhythm. “What sort of tea would you like, Crowley? I have quite the array available.”

“Hm? Oh, er, s-something sweet?” He flushed at being pulled from thoughts of what it might be like to have an alpha around more often, this one, in particular. He was good with Warlock and kind and, if Crowley let himself be honest, handsome as both a man and a wolf.

“Of course. I have a vanilla chai mix, if you'd like. And plenty of sugar.”

“Mom used to send him flavoured coffee all the time,” Warlock revealed, trying not to hope too hard when Aziraphale pulled milk from the small fridge the kitchenette had.

“Oh?”

Crowley shot Warlock a glare, though he felt the effect was entirely lost with his glasses in the way. “The States have a lot of… unique flavours available. I think it was mostly her way of teasing me about not being much of a tea drinker.”

“Yes, I did notice you picked a coffee earlier today.” Aziraphale sent him an apologetic smile as he poured and set a glass of milk down in front of Warlock just as the tea kettle began to squeal. He plucked that off the heat and filled two mugs. “I apologise that I’m not prepared to accommodate to that degree.”

“'S fine. Know it makes me a bit of an oddball.” He found he liked watching Aziraphale make tea. It was such a domestic sort of thing and he couldn't help the way he softened at the way Aziraphale filled each mug with a careful, steady hand.

“Oh, I wouldn’t call you an oddball. There are plenty of people who prefer coffee to tea, else it wouldn’t be such a popular drink.” He picked out two tea bags, dropping one into his own and spooning sugar into Crowley’s. It was a simple task for him, one he was very comfortable with and one he was always happy to share with someone. “Here we are. Have a seat, Crowley. And a biscuit before Warlock has them all.”

“I’m not gonna have them all,” he protested, crumbs already clinging to his lips.

“You'd better not,” Crowley said as he pulled out the chair beside him and sat, snatching a biscuit from the container for himself. “Eating all his nibbles, Aziraphale might not let you come back.”

Aziraphale chuckled as he set Crowley’s drink down, then sat with his own clasped between his hands. His fingers were thick, the palms broad like his shoulders. “I am rather particular about who I share with, but growing pups should have after-school snacks. I dare say you should be more worried than he is, my dear fellow. You’re all grown up, after all.”

Crowley threw a smirk at him and set his chin in his hand. “Are you trying to say you think I don't eat enough?”

Before he could answer, Warlock scoffed. “If he came to dinner with us, he’d be able to make sure you ate.”

“Warlock!” Crowley hissed, face flushed hot. “You can't just-just invite someone to dinner like that.” He wanted to go hide. How was it he'd ended up with such a blunt pup?

“I didn't say he could come. I said if he did. That's totally different,” Warlock defended. “Besides, how are you supposed to invite somebody to dinner if you don't ask them to come?”

He wanted to say 'not by asking like that,' but could only get out nonsense that consisted of mostly consonants.

Aziraphale reached out and touched Crowley’s arm gently, the soothing little growl slipping out without his say-so. “If you wanted to demonstrate a proper invitation, I don’t have other plans.”

It helped, the sound not one of anger or frustration but almost protective, and Aziraphale’s hand was warm. He wanted to lean into it and find the offered comfort. “I-I, er, didn't- don't have plans. Either, that is.”

“I see.” The rejection shouldn’t have been a surprise, but it was and it gave him pause. He’d misunderstood and misinterpreted the intention. Of course he wasn’t looking for any sort of romantic connection with anyone, particularly not someone who was possibly twice his age. Aziraphale mustered up a cheerful smile regardless, quietly chastising himself as a fool. “That’s alright.”

He didn't know how to go about this anymore, too out of practice. And this alpha… he didn't just assert what he wanted and expected like the ones Crowley was used to. Refreshing and strange all in one. “I, er, I'm not sure what you like.”

Aziraphale paused again, brows drawing together in befuddlement. Was he trying to invite him to dinner? Was it simply to humour Warlock? “I’m so sorry, dear boy. I don’t quite understand.”

Warlock, who was mightily unimpressed, rolled his eyes. “My way of inviting him was way better. This is gonna take forever.”

Crowley’s scent flared with something too close to embarrassment and stress for Aziraphale’s liking. He gave his arm a gentle squeeze, catching his attention again. “There’s a small Italian eatery just up the road. Would you and Warlock care to join me this evening?”

“Yes!” Crowley said a little too quickly for his own liking. He was so bad at this, more so than he thought he should be. What kind of adult couldn't even ask someone on a bloody date? “Er, I mean, that-that sounds fine. Italian is fine.”

“Lovely. Now-” The bell above his door jingled, the sound carrying back to them. “Oh, I forgot to close properly. If you’ll excuse me.”

When he rose and scurried off, Warlock slanted Crowley a look. “You’re lame.”

“It's been a few years,” Crowley hissed back, hating that he'd basically failed at asking for a date in front of the pup. “We'll see if you do any better when you like someone.”

“I guess. He made it seem really easy, though.”

“You're awful at being encouraging.”

Warlock tried to kick him under the table, but couldn't quite reach. “I'm eleven.”

“Awful,” Crowley repeated with a slight grin and stole another biscuit. “Never had a worse wingman.”

“I don't know what that is, but you still got the date. Even though I basically did everything.”

“You about made me have a bloody aneurysm is what you did.”

“I still think that's your fault. He was being nice. He even growled nice.”

“I know. I heard.” It made him want to curl up right against his chest and never leave.

“What would happen if you purred at him? Do alphas even care?”

“Of course they care. Just as comforting for them as it is for us when we hear it.” He ran a finger along the lip of his mug. “And I dunno what Aziraphale would do.”

“What I would do about what?” he wondered, brows lifted and a book in hand as he stepped back into the kitchenette.

“Ngk- N-nothing important. Just, er-” He struggled to find a way to explain that wasn't entirely embarrassing and came up depressingly short.

“You're so lame,” Warlock accused again.

Aziraphale’s brows arched, but he patted Crowley’s shoulder. “It's alright, my dear. No need to be flustered.” He found it charming. He was so very different with Warlock than he was alone. He was able to hold onto that cool facade better when he was alone. With the boy, he seemed so much younger. More vulnerable. More someone Aziraphale needed to protect. He wanted to pull Crowley into his lap and hold him, soothe him however he could.

“Thanks,” Crowley mumbled, feeling very much like he was making a mess of things. He could have sworn he used to be smoother and cooler than this.

Warlock rolled his eyes hard. “What do you do when an omega purrs?”

Aziraphale stopped, hand stilling on Crowley’s shoulder. “O-oh.” Well. He had told him he could ask anything. “I suppose that would depend on my relationship to them. I know when one of my mothers would purr when I was a pup, I'd want to press close and hold on. I imagine that might be the reaction I'd make to any omega I was related to. Ah. If I don't know them, it certainly catches my attention but I don't do anything. It isn't my business.”

“What if you know them and aren't related?” he wondered, though was more curious now than asking for his cousin.

“That depends too, doesn't it? I do have very dear friends who are omegas. I've heard them purr several times, and every reaction is different. Sometimes, they purr for me so I'm comfortable with an embrace. Often, however, it's simply because they're delighted by something. It... On an instinctual level, it's always a bit of a thrill to be near a purring omega. Particularly when they're friendly. On a personal level, I would likely feel the same about their purrs as I would a beta's smile or an alpha's purrs. Were we friends.”

“What if you're... y'know, like, in love or whatever?”

Aziraphale fell quiet for a moment, smile softening. “I'm afraid I've never experienced that, my dear pup, so I can't say.”

Crowley gave Warlock's hair a ruffle. “That's a very personal thing to ask someone you barely know.” Though it made him just a little sad. Aziraphale seemed like such a sweet alpha; kind and generous and respectful. It was surprising that no one had turned his head.

Warlock swatted at his hands, though Crowley dodged him easily. “But I want to know.”

“Some things you just have to experience yourself, I’m afraid.”

With a sigh Crowley propped his head in his hand. “When you like someone like that it's… it's like finally getting to curl up in your nest after a long day. Even when you're upset or stressed, just hearing someone you care about like that purr… just takes all that away.”

“That's surprisingly romantic from you, Crowley.” Aziraphale clasped his hands together. “I didn't think you were that sort.”

Crowley flushed and rubbed at the back of his head. “Just bein' honest.”

“Yes. It's charming.”

Oh. Crowley couldn't ever remember being called charming before. His eyes went wide as, much to his embarrassment, he began to purr. “Er, sssorry. I, ah-”

“No, I...” Aziraphale’s smile brightened, tail swishing. “It's nothing to be embarrassed over, my dear.”

It was, actually, but apparently not embarrassing enough. He was comfortable here, in this cluttered bookshop with this oddly cheerful alpha and his rich scent. “R-right, thankss.”

It was a thrill to imagine he'd made the omega comfortable enough to purr. That he might feel safe enough here to do so. Even the little hiss of a lisp was darling. Aziraphale wiggled, then returned to his seat with his book safely on the table and not in the hands of the would-be customer who'd attempted to buy it. “In any case, I've closed properly now. So there shouldn't be another interruption.”

Crowley latched on to the significantly less embarrassing topic. “Does that happen often? Forgetting to close up?”

“Yes. You wouldn't believe how many times I've gotten an idea for a scene and rushed off, leaving the sign turned and the door unlocked.” He hummed over a sip of tea. “Unsurprisingly, most customers who wander in those times get frustrated when no one appears to help them, and they simply leave again.”

Crowley snorted. “Suppose it's a good thing you don't actually have to sell anything, what with how easily distracted you are.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “I daresay if I did have to sell things for a living, I wouldn't be distracted from it. Little pries me away from my words when the mood strikes.”

“What would?” Warlock wondered, casting Crowley a sidelong look when he slid the cookie package away to fold it shut.

Aziraphale didn't miss it either, but decided not to comment. Far be it for him to tell Crowley how to raise the boy. Besides, he agreed. They were going to eat soon. “Good company. Occasionally, the end of whatever record I've got playing.”

Crowley smiled as if he hadn't seen Warlock's look from the corner of his eye. “And before the boy asks, what do you write? I'm afraid I don't recall any 'Fells', though I could imagine it's something terribly esoteric.”

“I can't tell if you mean that as an insult, dear boy.”

“I don't, just an observation.”

“An observation of what? What's that mean?” Warlock wondered.

“It means only a few people might understand my writing, and while I understand perfectly why you might say so... No. I wouldn't characterise it that way at all. While the setting is, admittedly, a bit further back than modern times, the subject matter is hardly niche.” He turned pink, realising he was rambling rather than answering. He didn't want to annoy either of them, though Warlock seemed more puzzled than anything. “I have a mystery series set in the Regency period. There's, ah, typically something of a romantic bent to it.”

“A mystery series,” Crowley murmured. “Alright, I think I can see that. Though the romance aspect is surprising.”

Aziraphale’s flush deepened. “Alphas are not immune to some romance. Now and again.”

Crowley grinned. “I didn't say anything about you being an alpha.” But he did pull out his phone and tapped on the Goodreads app.

“For Heaven's sake.” Aziraphale finished off his tea and rose, plucking up Warlock's cup as well to rinse them.

“But it's a series?” Warlock asked. “How many books do you have?”

“Ah... Three in the current series. It's going to be four, and I'm working on that one at the moment. So book three hasn't been released just yet. So, ah, I've published seven titles so far.”

And they all had rave reviews, especially the newest ones. A murder mystery in which the protagonist helps wealthy families resolve inheritance disputes when foul play is suspected. “Wow, none of these are rated below four and a half stars.”

Aziraphale’s tail swished so hard it thwacked into the cupboard when he turned. He stilled it, clearing his throat. “You're looking them up?”

“You got me curious. Never known any authors before.”

“Well, it isn't quite as exciting as knowing... a-anyone else, really. They're just the tales my mind comes up with. The response to them has been... surprising. And quite flattering, really. It's certainly allowed me to continue.”

“Are they only popular in London?” Warlock wondered.

“Oh. Well. Ah. No.” He wiggled, a little uncomfortable. As if he wasn't used to talking about himself, let alone his accomplishments.

“Course it's not just London, look.” Crowley tilted the phone so Warlock could see. “Over fifty-thousand ratings just on the first one.”

“Whoa!” His ears perked curiously. “That's actually kinda cool.”

“Oh, no, those are just- just dedicated readers. I didn't make the New York Times best sellers list until the third, so I'm really not-” He paused. “That sounded less braggadocious in my mind.”

Crowley threw his head back on a laugh. “You're allowed to brag about your accomplishments, you know.” He nudged Warlock's side. “Do you want them?”

“The books? Yeah.”

“Oh, goodness.” Aziraphale waved his hands, cheeks seemingly stained a permanent pink. “Now they aren't written for pups, and I won't have you spending your money on them. For Heaven's sake.”

Crowley raised his eyebrows. “Not for pups? How, er, exactly how adult are these books?”

“Oh, good Lord. They aren't, er... explicit. The second one I published would be alright, but the rest I would at least suggest you read them first.”

“He doesn't read,” Warlock replied, more curious about them now than he'd been.

“That's right. No books for me,” Crowley said as he pulled up the Amazon page for the ebooks. “And as long as there's no sex stuff the pup should be fine. I'm not against erotica, but eleven's a bit young for that.”

“Oh, good Lord. The second one I published is fine. I can go fetch a copy, if you're being insistent on this.”

“I am being insistent on this. Which do you want: the digital you can carry around on your phone or a physical one from the man himself?”

“Crowley, really, don't spend a pence on it. It's alright.”

“I want both.”

“Come now, you're both being ridiculous.”

“Aziraphale, really, spending a few pounds on an ebook won't break the bank. It's fine.” Not to mention he'd already bought the lot of them for himself.

“It's needless.” Aziraphale scurried out of the room, tail curled high.

Warlock leaned in closer to Crowley. “Why's he embarrassed?”

Crowley leaned in too, voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. “Because people you know seein' something you made and might have poured your heart into is a lot different then people you don't know seein' it.”

“Oh. If it sucks, do we have to be nice about it?”

“Yes. We do. You don't have to pretend you loved it, but if you're mean about it I will be very disappointed in you.”

“‘Cause he probably won't date you anymore?”

“No. Because it's needlessly mean and we don't hurt people that we care about.”

Warlock rolled his eyes. “I'm not gonna be mean. Tons of other people like it, anyway, so I probably will.”

Crowley shrugged. “You might. Go ahead and get the ones that interest you on Kindle. Far be it from me to tell you you can't read a book.”

He took Crowley’s phone, pausing when he saw them all already purchased. “Seriously? You're so lame!”

“You keep using that word, I don't think it means what you think it means.”

“I'm right. I bet if I told Aziraphale you bought them all, he'd blush all over again and you would stutter.”

“Probably, but I don't see how that's lame.”

“‘Cause it is. If you were cool, you'd, like, not even care.” He got the second book, deciding he'd just steal the rest from Crowley if he liked it.

“I'm legitimately wondering where you got that idea from, pup. Is this like a new-fangled thing the kids are doing? Pretending to be aloof and like you don't care about anything for The Cool Points?”

Warlock rolled his eyes. “There's no such thing as cool points.”

“So if you don't get anything for acting like a broody robot with no feelings, what's the point?”

“You're a broody robot,” he muttered, folding his arms.

Crowley gave him a nudge. “You can think I'm lame if you want, but I'd bet Aziraphale doesn't.”

“No, he thinks you're cute.”

Aziraphale set a book down on the table, startling both omegas. “I also think he's quite cool. Here's your book, dear boy.”

“How did you do that?” he demanded, and Aziraphale smiled secretively.

With a flush Crowley slid the book over to Warlock. He hadn't expected Aziraphale to be so light on his feet, and it wasn't as if they could have smelled him coming in this space so thoroughly ingrained with his scent. Crowley smiled up at him and tried desperately to ignore the screaming in his mind over Aziraphale not denying he thought he was cute and saying he was cool. “'S not nice to eavesdrop, you know.”

“It was unintentional, I assure you.”

“I hope I haven't embarrassed you too much by wanting to read your books.”

“No, it's alright. I'm just rather... Well. It's one thing when strangers read it, you see. Their opinions aren't nearly so valued as the ones from friends. Or... Or those closer.”

“Course. That makes sense.” Though it made him feel warm to think Aziraphale might want to be… closer. He was glad his tail was tucked away, as it would have been twitching and curling in the way it did when he was interested in someone. “'S a bit like bein' vulnerable.”

“A bit, yes.”

“Whoa, you signed it!” Warlock realized and Aziraphale laughed, a bubbling, joyful sort of sound that filled the kitchenette.

Crowley grinned up at him and had to stop himself from trying to reach out. “Oh, good, that saves me the trouble of askin'.”

“Happy to help, my dear.” He smiled. “Very happy indeed.”

Chapter Text

The restaurant was small, an intimate little space wherein Aziraphale was recognised and greeted immediately. That was familiar to Warlock. People had always rushed up to and greeted his dad when they went places, ready to bend over backwards for him. It had always been annoying, especially since dad was usually a jerk to the staff. Mom usually stayed back and tipped them behind his back, and he was expecting more of the same. 

Except when they were seated, Aziraphale asked the young waitress about her family and remembered names. He patted her hand in the same light, friendly way he had with Warlock and Crowley. 

And then, instead of looking to Crowley to make sure he was impressed when she walked away, he looked at Crowley and smiled warmly. “If you have any questions about the menu, they're very good here. Very open to alterations if there are any food sensitivities between you.”

“It's appreciated, but unless one of us has spontaneously developed an allergy we should be alright.” Crowley placed his chin in his hand and smiled. “The host knew you on sight.” 

Here it came, Warlock thought, ready to roll his eyes over any bragging. 

Aziraphale chuckled. “He did. I'm here and in most Soho restaurants fairly often, so I do try to get to know the workers and owners. Just something of a busybody, I suppose.”

“It's nice. How waitstaff react to someone they recognise says somethin' about them, I think. Big red flag when they see you and get that ‘oh no, not you again’ look.” 

“Oh, I do try not to be a bother.” Aziraphale picked up one of the smaller menus and slid it closer to Crowley. “Tell me, my dear, do you fancy the occasional glass of wine?”

Crowley took it with a bit of a crooked smile, both of them ignoring Warlock’s dramatic gagging sound. “I indulge on occasion. Significantly less now than when I was younger.”

“Yes, I could say the same. But it’s difficult to have Italian without a glass.”

“Crowley has a whole wine cabinet in the kitchen,” Warlock announced, clearly having no trouble at all spreading all of Crowley’s secrets.

“...Yes, I do. Though, to be entirely honest, most of it is shite wine your mother sent me for various reasons.” 

“Because you like wine, and she doesn’t. D-didn’t.” Frowning, he flicked his menu up and hid his face behind it, and Aziraphale sent Crowley a concerned look.

Crowley gave a slight shake of his head and threw his arm over Warlock's chair. “No, she didn't; that's why all the wine she sent me was awful. But at least I paid her back with the most god-awful Christmas sweaters I could get my paws on.” 

Warlock glanced up at him. “She used to wear them on Christmas morning, all the way until she had to get ready for whatever party they had to go to. It drove dad crazy.” The previous Christmas had been the first one he’d ever had where no one spent half the day either getting ready to leave him alone or leaving him alone. He’d had Crowley all day to watch Christmas movies with or play his new games with. He was looking forward to another Christmas like that.

“And she would take a picture of the expression on Thad’s face when he saw her in it and send it to me. I still have all of them.” 

“‘Cause you’re a brat,” he muttered, clearly quoting something he’d heard his mother say before, but he was smiling again.

“Been told that a time or two.” Crowley ruffled his hair and laughed when his hand was shoved away. He'd found out fairly quickly that Warlock didn't respond well to being treated carefully or like he was fragile. He wanted to be treated like everything was fine, so that's where Crowley would meet him. 

Aziraphale smiled, quietly making note of the relationship between them. At the familiar way memories soothed even when they hurt. As he’d told the boy, he understood loss. But it was nice that he had Crowley, someone who was willing to take the time to nurture and understand. When the waitress peeked their way, he waved her on so they could have more time. “I can see why. It’s a very good description for you.”

Crowley threw a smirk at him. “Brat, trouble, pest. I'm sure there are a few others I'm missing.” 

“Rascal,” he suggested, as pleased as Crowley when Warlock muffled a laugh. “Rapscallion.”

“Oohh, rapscallion. Haven't heard that ten dollar word in a while.”

He lifted a brow. “Miscreant.”

“Now you're just showing off.” 

“If I wanted to show off, we would have gone to my favourite Japanese restaurant.”

“Why?” Warlock wondered, dropping his menu.

Aziraphale’s eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the blue in them shining. “I think we’ll save that for next time.”

Next time. His tail would have been wagging like anything had it been out, though it was dampened somewhat by next time with the pup. He wondered, hoped really, that he could get a next time with just the two of them. “Well, don't let me stop you from showing off.” 

“I think there’s been more than enough focus on me for one afternoon, my dear. I’m not nearly interesting enough to share all of my secrets in one go.”

Crowley wasn't so sure about that. Aziraphale had a way of speaking, the mixture of the sound of his voice and how he phrased things, that Crowley wouldn’t mind listening to for hours. “I'm afraid I'm not much more interesting, myself.”

“Oh, I doubt that.” Aziraphale found himself greedy to know everything. From the eye colour that remained a mystery hidden behind dark glasses to how he’d grown up to what it felt like, trying to raise a pup on his own. How he’d made the decision to do so. “You’re quite intriguing.”

Crowley didn't think so at all, but hearing that made him blush. “Just an ordinary bloke, me.” 

“I don’t see why ordinary can’t be fascinating, my dear. I make my living writing about ordinary people.” His smile turned a little mischievous. “And occasionally I kill the ones I dislike.”

His jaw dropped in surprise, but a delighted grin quickly replaced it. “Oh, you're a little bit of a bastard, aren't you?” 

“If you ever do decide to pick up one of my books, you may recognise your coworkers.” His lashes fluttered. “But I assure you any likenesses towards actual persons is entirely coincidental. It says so in the disclaimer in front of each book.”

Crowley had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing out loud and disturbing the other patrons. “Oh, I have to read them now. You'll be fulfilling my darkest fantasies, there.” 

“Who?” Warlock wondered. “‘Cause your office is, like, the worst.”

“Thing One and Thing Two, I would assume.” 

Warlock grimaced. “Hastur smells like poo. He bothered you?”

Aziraphale had to very carefully school his expression into something neutral, though he was desperate to laugh. It wasn’t an inaccurate statement. “Him and Mr. Melion, yes. They are… unpleasant to deal with.”

“I’d kill them off too. And I don’t think you have to worry about them reading your books. I don’t know if they’re smart enough.”

Aziraphale’s lip twitched. “Thank you, Warlock. I do appreciate the support.”

“Say, how much trouble do you think I'd be in if I read the parts where they die out loud at the office?” 

“I can’t say, but I can say my agent would be utterly furious if you gained access to something that isn’t even close to being published yet.” Not to mention the idea of Crowley recognising himself in one of the characters was too embarrassing to even fathom. While terrible, it was ultimately a relief to find out the man didn’t read books.

“Aww, you won’t share even a little bit with me?” Crowley asked with his best innocent smile. 

“As sweet as you smell, pet, I’m not yet willing to risk my career over you.”

Crowley’s eyes widened behind his glasses as he flushed. He couldn't deny that being told he smelled sweet by an alpha made him want to melt into a puddle. “Ngk- Mm, that's, ah, that's fair.” 

Aziraphale smiled, though part of him wanted very badly to lean across the table and growl at him. Something that encouraged the sweet scent to heighten, something to have the omega opening for him right where he sat until the sweet scent of his slick-

“Why do you have an agent when you can just publish it on your own? Like other people do.”

The pup. There was a pup. Right there. Aziraphale cleared his throat, tearing his gaze away from Crowley to focus on Warlock. “It all seemed a bit complicated to me. I’m not one for the world wide web.”

“The internet.”

“That too.”

It was like he could suddenly breathe again. He hadn't expected Aziraphale’s gaze to turn hungry, predatory, but it had. Crowley shifted in his chair and swallowed hard. “You, ah, you realise it's the same thing, right?” 

“Is it?” 

He seemed so genuinely confused that Warlock's brow furrowed. “Are... Are you actually four hundred years old?”

“Told you, we're immortals.” 

“Quite. And I do, in fact, have a twitter-dot-com. My publicist required one in my contract.”

Crowley struggled to not laugh. “Aziraphale, do you even use your Twitter?” 

“Yes! I'm required to in order to promote my work, and it isn't very difficult to type something on the website.”

“You use the site instead the app?” Warlock asked. 

“App?” 

“Like on a phone?” 

“Oh. No. I don't have a mobile, Warlock.” Aziraphale smiled apologetically. “I'm afraid I'm not very modern as far as technology goes.”

“Oh my god. You don't even have a Facebook, do you?” 

Aziraphale blinked at Crowley. “I... assume that isn't an actual book.”

Crowley gaped at him for a moment then shut his mouth as he shook his head. “No, no it's not an actual book.” 

“Then I clearly do not have one.”

“Don't anyway. They're lame,” Warlock announced, his prevailing wisdom for most things. 

Aziraphale chuckled. “I can promise you I have no trouble keeping my, ah, internet-ing to a minimum. I really only need it for email, my twitter-dot-com, and the occasional bout of research when I can't get my hands on the right book. I'm perfectly fine without all the modern technologies besides.”

“As absolutely bonkers as that is, you're not missing out on that much. But now I have to find your Twitter.” 

Aziraphale smiled. “On your mobile? It's simply AZFellAndCo. No spaces, though I'm told that's common for twitter-dot-com. I occasionally use it for my shop, as people have sent me messages asking if I'm open or if I have a particular item in stock.”

Of course they had. The opening hours sign on the front door was incomprehensible. Crowley was sure he'd only been able to catch him open because he'd camped out and waited. “Well yeah. Considering your opening hours are something written by a mad-man, I'm not surprised.” 

Aziraphale laughed. “My grandfather wrote them, as a matter of fact, and it's something of a tradition now. They've been laminated.”

“You know how to use a laminator?” 

“Of course not. I took it to the library like any sane person.”

“They're really easy to use, actually.” 

Aziraphale lifted his brows. “Do you need to laminate often in the real estate business?”

Crowley shrugged. “Not really, but we have one at the office. Ligur laminates all his business cards for reasons that are beyond me.” 

“Probably 'cause he's slimy,” Warlock muttered. “Like a lizard. And he gets his lizard slime all over his cards.”

Aziraphale smiled and flipped up his menu. “That seems plausible,” he agreed with a laugh. 

Eventually, they were able to order. Pasta and a glass of wine each for the adults. Warlock was surprised again when Aziraphale didn't try flaunting his wine knowledge as he'd seen others do at the parties his parents threw or the few he'd been allowed to attend. He just asked what Crowley liked and made recommendations and listened. With his floppy ears perked, it seemed like he listened with his whole body. Like everything in him was invested. It was new for Warlock and, really, for Crowley too. 

Even when they eventually left, unnecessary tip left discreetly and no one angry at them or having to make apologies, the alpha's attention didn't waver. 

“Are you parked nearby, dear fellow?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Just down the street there.” The restaurant had been within easy walking distance of the shop; it was no surprise Aziraphale had been recognised. “Are you gonna walk me to my car like a proper Victorian gentleman?” 

“If it pleases you, yes. I'm quite sure you'll be fine, but I don't know that I could stand my own instincts if I didn't walk an omega and his likewise pup to safety. As it were.”

“Well, so long as it gives you peace of mind it doesn't bother me.” And if it meant he got to spend even more time with Aziraphale, he'd take it. 

“How good of you to indulge me. After you, my dear.” 

Warlock kept himself between them as they walked, the crowds in Soho just as thick on a Friday night as they were during the day. It definitely reminded him of New York, of holding mom's hand as they rushed across Times Square after dinner or on their way to a Broadway show. Dad had never been around for the latter, and he'd never mentioned his instincts so freely. Like they had never mattered to him. 

He glanced up at Aziraphale when he chuckled, not really paying attention to the niceties going on over his head, but no one smelled displeased. There was an easy happiness from both of them, scents light and airy, and Warlock liked that. He didn't like that it was new. He didn't like thinking that his dad had been a bad alpha. 

As oblivious to his thoughts as Crowley, Aziraphale was very tempted to try taking Crowley’s hand. It seemed a silly desire, something most likely born of instincts. Walking an omega and his pup to their car felt domestic in a way he wasn't at all used to. Like Crowley, he'd been a lone wolf for some time. And something in him was giddy at gaining not one, but two members for his pack. 

Something else, something bigger and more important than those base instincts, just liked them. He liked how easily he could make Crowley’s cool facade crack. He also liked the cool facade. He liked the playful mischievousness of him and his laugh and his hair and his scent. He liked how hard he was trying for Warlock, who was also thoroughly likeable despite the moodiness. He liked the pup's questions and the way Crowley didn't shut down his curiosity. He liked the peeks into his sense of humour and the bursts of joy hidden under a cool facade that wasn't nearly so easily cracked, reinforced as it was by youthful grief and bullies. 

Aziraphale didn't take Crowley’s hand like he wanted to, keeping his own linked firmly behind his back, and hoped that the lovely omega might allow him another outing soon. “I hope you aren't entirely sick of me, my dear. We've seen quite a bit of one another today.”

“Nah, figured you'd be the one sick of me.” Crowley threw an easy grin at him. It had been so long since he'd felt this comfortable around someone, especially an alpha. He found he wanted to bask in his scent, to learn its various notes and how it changed with his mood. Aziraphale had made such fascinating little hums and moans over their meal, he wanted to know if he did that only for food, or if there were other things he made noises over. 

“Hardly. There are still mysteries about you to solve. Your eye colour, for example.”

“Very curious about that, are you?” 

“Well, it is rather difficult to miss someone consistently wearing sunglasses. And I know you aren’t blind.”

Crowley raised his eyebrows, his grin never faltering. “I could be. Maybe that's why I don't read.” 

“Then, my dear fellow, I can’t imagine how you drive.”

“No, see, that's why I have Warlock. He tells me when I'm about to hit a pedestrian.” 

Aziraphale chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s terrible.”

“It's not! He's my seeing-eye-pup, aren't you?” 

Warlock scoffed. “This is exactly why you’re lame,” he accused, and Aziraphale laughed.

“You shouldn’t insult the blind,” he said lightly, content enough to not see Crowley’s eyes if the subject made him uncomfortable. There would hopefully be time enough for it.

“If he’s blind, I guess he was lying about thinking you’re cute.”

Crowley gasped and sputtered, throwing an arm heavily across Warlock's shoulders. “You are an awful pup!” 

Aziraphale looked down at Warlock, winked. “On the contrary, I think he’s rather delightful.”

“You would, seeing as he's revealing all my secrets.” 

“Oh, so he’s correct?” Aziraphale’s eyes shone, tail flicking playfully. “You do think I’m cute, then?”

“I-” He was blushing, could feel it climbing to his hairline. “Y-yeah. No use lyin' about it.” 

Aziraphale’s smile softened, but his tail continued to cheerfully wag. “Well, being that I don’t have a pup spilling my secrets, it seems only fair that I admit to finding you… quite attractive.”

From anyone else it might have felt a bit insulting, but coming from Aziraphale it made him want to puff up his chest and walk a little taller. He could practically hear Warlock rolling his eyes and Crowley was very happy to ignore that entirely. “Why, Aziraphale, I would almost say that you liked me.” 

“Well… Admittedly, I don’t dislike you. You don’t die with your coworkers,” he teased.

Crowley’s mouth fell open in a little 'o', eyebrows rising up above his glasses. “You put me in your book?” 

Oh, bugger. “I didn’t say that.” Aziraphale wiped his hands over his thighs, the gesture a nervous one.

“No, no. You said you didn't kill me off with my coworkers. So, unless you're an actual murderer…” He wiggled his eyebrows. “My devilish good looks must have worked on you.” 

“Shush. There’s still quite a bit of book to go.”

“Am I in it?” Warlock wondered.

Aziraphale turned pink anew, tugging at and straightening his waistcoat. “I’m afraid I can’t divulge too much information.”

Crowley grinned. “That means 'yes' in legalese. Should get royalties with how much we inspired,” he teased. 

“Now stop that. All, and I do mean all, similarities to actual persons is entirely coincidental.” And he was going to stick to that, no matter how humiliating the two of them were.

“Alright, alright,” Crowley said, hands in the air. He didn't want to push him too far, that wasn't any fun. “I'm definitely reading this one when you're done, though. I'm terribly curious how insufferable I am.” 

“More by the moment,” Aziraphale huffed, though his lips were threatening to twitch into another smile.

“Ooohh, maybe I'll annoy you enough to kill me off properly.”

“That shouldn't be hard,” Warlock muttered, which only made Crowley gasp and nudge him. 

“Excuse you! I'm delightful.” 

“We’ll see how things shake out,” Aziraphale chuckled, brows lifting when they stopped beside a sleek antique automobile. “Goodness. This is yours?”

“Yup,” Crowley said with a little pop at the end and leaned his hip against the back wheel. “This is me.” 

“Oh, it’s a stunning thing. An antique, clearly, and so well-maintained.” Aziraphale’s tail flicked this way and that, his delight with it and with Crowley clear. “How lovely.”

“Crowley says the Bentley’s better than modern cars.”

“Built to last, most definitely.”

“That and I actually know how to maintenance her myself. New cars these days all require specially made tools to do just about anything. Bentley, though, all I need is a wrench and socket set and a good amount of elbow grease.” 

Something about that made Aziraphale’s gut tighten with arousal. The image of this particular omega bent over, up to his elbows in a filthy engine. He wondered how he might react if he found those tight denims around his knees, filled and knotted and- Aziraphale cleared his throat, deciding he needed to check his calendar to make sure he wasn’t coming near a rut. He’d never had quite such a visceral reaction to an omega before. “That’s incredibly impressive, my dear.”

Crowley preened a bit and not just from the praise. That predatory glint had returned to Aziraphale’s eye, only for a moment, but it had been there. His scent gone richer and slightly sharper before it had been scrubbed away. He didn't know exactly what he'd done to cause such a reaction but he wasn't complaining. “'S alright, I guess. Doesn't feel that impressive when I've done it since I was a pup.” 

“Well, being that I hardly know a tyre from a timing belt, it’s thoroughly impressive to me.” Aziraphale smiled, careful to keep his fangs from flashing more than they normally might. He didn’t want to make either omega nervous around him, and the preening was precious, though he was sure Crowley would object thoroughly to the adjective. “Now I should leave you to your own devices. I’m sure I’ve taken up more than enough of your Friday.”

“Not a bad way to spend the end of the week, though.” Not a bad way at all. It had been easy to spend time with Aziraphale, easy to sit and chat at his shop, easy to have a meal with. 

“It was pretty cool,” Warlock agreed.

Aziraphale’s smile warmed. “Well, I consider that to be high praise. It’s been lovely spending the evening with the two of you, as well.”

“Can we do it again?” he asked, looking between both adults.

Crowley looked to Aziraphale, a little hopeful. “I wouldn't be opposed so long as Aziraphale isn't.” 

“No, I don’t have any objections. Now you have my number, dear boy. You can telephone me whenever you like.” Aziraphale held out a hand for Warlock to shake, waiting patiently while he debated actually reaching out before carefully doing so, but his young grip was firm enough. “I promise.”

“Okay.” Warlock smiled, though he kept most of his face hidden behind his bangs when Aziraphale squeezed his hand. “See you.”

Crowley ruffled his hair despite Warlock’s verbal protests and waited until he'd climbed into the Bentley and shut the door before clearing his throat. “I, er, had a nice time, Aziraphale.” 

“As did I. Both earlier today and with Warlock this evening.”

“Yeah. I, ah-” Crowley shuffled his feet and tried to fight back the blush on his face. “I was hoping, maybe, you'd like to do it again- just-just us, though. Just the two of us.” 

“I was quite serious when I suggested we have lunch sometime, Crowley. I realise dinner alone may be difficult when you have a pup who has and deserves so much of your attention.” Aziraphale took a step closer to him, smile softening. “I would like an opportunity to spend more time alone with you, whenever your schedule permits.”

Crowley mirrored him, taking his own step closer, drawn in like a magnet. “I'd like that,” he murmured, the corner of his mouth giving a twitch. “And maybe I'll even show you my eyes if you ask nicely.” 

The sweet scent of him drew Aziraphale even nearer, his hand lifting to cup Crowley’s chin before he could stop himself. His thumb brushed his lower lip, his low hum perilously close to a purr. “Is that a privilege I have to earn?”

His breath hitched, lips parting automatically, and it was a near thing that Crowley was able to stop himself from swiping his tongue out. Aziraphale's hand was so warm, he wanted nothing more than to tip closer and find out if the rest of him was the same. “Might be.” 

Part of Aziraphale wanted to press his thumb between those parted lips, to see what Crowley would do, but he kept his hold gentle. “I can't imagine much would be worth more than earning any piece of you, sweet omega. I'm very willing to work my schedule around yours and Warlock's, so do telephone me soon.”

He wanted to melt into a puddle right there on the sidewalk and getting his rapidly beating heart under control was something of a challenge. His hand shook a little when he reached up to grasp Aziraphale’s wrist, moving his hand so he could turn his head to press his lips to his palm. It wasn't quite a kiss, but it still made him feel like his heart was going to jump out of his throat. “I'll be sure to, alpha.” 

The rumble in Aziraphale’s throat was somewhere between a growl and a purr, but it rippled with approval. “I should be going now before I embarrass myself.”

Crowley nodded and swallowed thickly. He had to let him go despite instinct insisting he hold onto this alpha, this potential mate. Before he did, though, Crowley took in his scent one more time, rich dark chocolate and bourbon. “Well, we wouldn't want that.” 

“I should hope not.” Aziraphale stepped back, lips curving even as contact between them broke. “You know, I've always had something of a weakness for caramel apples.”

“Is that so?” Crowley murmured. “Well, I don't think I've ever met a bourbon I didn't like.” 

Aziraphale chuckled. “If things between us keep going well, we'll see about you getting a sample. Have a lovely night, my dear.”

“Y-yeah, you too.” Crowley watched him go with wobbly legs and told himself he was going to swoon. He wasn't. 

The passenger door cracked open. “Stop looking at his butt, so we can go home!”

His face turned beet-red. “I wasn't!” Crowley hissed at him - he was, he absolutely was - and quickly got in on the driver's side. “You are a menace.” 

“Maybe.” Warlock hugged his bag to his chest as the car started, quietly waiting for him to pull into the road. “Do you like him for real?”

“I- I don't know yet. Maybe? Seems like a decent bloke. 'M willing to give him a chance.” 

Warlock turned away to look out the window. “It's... He's not like my dad. I think my dad was a huge jerk.”

Crowley bit his lip and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. He tried not to badmouth Thaddeus in front of Warlock. Harriet had to have had a reason for marrying him, even if Crowley couldn't see what she saw in him. “No, Aziraphale isn't like Thad. He's better looking, for one.” 

Warlock scoffed. “You're the only one who cares about that.”

“I can guarantee you I'm not the only person who cares about the physical attractiveness of the person I'm interested in.”

Warlock's shoulders jerked. He couldn't actually think of a dispute for that. “He listens better than my dad. And... And I think it's cool he's not always on a phone. Like he doesn't even have one. I'd get bored, but he's... I don't know. He's- Like he's weird? Y'know?”

“He is, a little bit,” Crowley said with a chuckle. “Not a bad weird, though. More like… quirky. Eccentric.” 

“Yeah. But smart. A-and still treats us like we're normal even though we're omegas.”

“That's how decent people act.” 

“That's not how my dad acted,” he mumbled, “or my guidance counselor.”

“I don't know your guidance counselor, but I knew Thad and…” Crowley sighed. “Do you want my honest opinion of him?” 

“You didn't like him.”

“No, I didn't, but I try to be objective when talking to you about him. He was your dad and my personal problems with the man don't have to colour your opinion of him.”

Warlock hunched his shoulders. “Am I a bad kid if I don't like him either?” he whispered.

“Wha- No!” Crowley said quickly. “Of course you're not. Plenty of people, kids and adults, end up not liking their parents for some reason or another. You're not a bad kid.” 

“Even though he’s dead?”

“Being dead doesn't erase what kind of person he was. Now, I know not everyone will agree with me, but just because someone died doesn't mean you have to forgive everything they did, doesn't mean you can't say anything bad about them ever. We're the ones who have to live with what they left behind and I say we can damn well be pissed off about it.” 

Warlock considered that, glancing at the tense lines of Crowley’s body. “Okay. I… Okay. Even though I miss mom… I like you more than dad. And if you want to date Aziraphale, that’s okay too.”

Crowley sighed his relief. “Well, I'm glad you like him. Would make things pretty awkward if I dated someone my pup hated.” 

“Guess it’s a good thing you were wrong about him not liking pups.”

“Yeah, well, I'm not always right. Only most of the time.” 

“Nuh-uh.” Warlock smiled slightly, feeling a little less guilty over his complaints about his dad and the comparisons between him and another alpha. “So when’re you gonna go on another date with him?”

“Er…” That was a good question. “Dunno yet. We'll have to talk about it. And I'll have to see when Tracy is available.”

“I don’t need a pupsitter,” he groaned. “I can be at home alone.”

“While I agree that eleven is a perfectly fine age to be left alone for a few hours, unfortunately social services doesn't agree with me.” 

Warlock huffed, but at least knew better than to argue about that. And at least Tracy was nice. Really weird, but nice. “At least she won’t try to set you up if you’re already going on a date.”

Crowley grimaced, he wasn't so sure about that. “One can hope.”

“I bet Aziraphale would growl at anyone who tried to date you instead of him.”

He recalled their meeting at the cafe just the other day, the way Aziraphale had growled at the beta who ran it. It might have embarrassed Aziraphale, but Crowley wanted to hear that again. He'd been growled at plenty. Being growled for was more novel, exciting. “Yeah, I'm pretty sure he would. Wouldn't surprise me.” 

The pleased reaction wasn’t what Warlock had expected, but it only made him roll his eyes. Of course he’d like that. “Can we get ice cream?”

Crowley sighed. “Haven't you had enough sweets today?” When Warlock slanted him a look, he sighed again. “Yeah, fine, alright. I'll stop at an ice cream place on the way home. Will give me a chance to find his Twitter before I forget anyway.” 

“I already did. It’s kind of hilarious. He argues with people over definitions.”

Of course he did. Crowley failed to cover a snort of amusement. “Yeah, I can definitely see him doing that. God, I still can't believe he doesn't have a phone.”

“He has four at his bookstore. He told me there’s three downstairs and one upstairs. Like it’d be way easier to just have a cellphone.”

“Christ on a bike. It's like I'm dating a fossil.” 

“Yeah. You're not ever gonna be able to pretend you're super old with him around. He's got you beat.”

“You say that as if I don't like feeling young and hip.” 

Warlock shrugged. “Then he's gonna cramp your style.”

“No no no, you see, next to Aziraphale I'll always be the young and hip one.” 

Warlock grinned, sharp and wicked. “People are gonna think he's your sugar daddy.”

It took him a moment, but when Crowley fully understood what Warlock had just said he flushed hot. “Y-you don't even know what that means!” 

“Yes, I do. You get money because you're sweet.”

Crowley wheezed. “Yeah, that's exactly it.” 

“Are you lying?” he demanded, eyeing Crowley warily.

“Technically, no.” 

“Then I'm right.”

“You're partially right about what that phrase means. But you are missing nuance that you're too young to understand.” 

“You can't tell me that and not tell me what it means!”

Crowley sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Bloody nosey pup. “It's sexual, Warlock. A sugar daddy is an older man that gives money and expensive gifts for sex to his significantly younger partner.” 

“Oh.” He made a face, grossed out and unimpressed. “Then no one's gonna think he's that. Not with you.”

“Thanks,” Crowley said with a roll of his eyes. “I'm glad I don't look nearly young enough for such a thing.” 

“I'm just saying Aziraphale could do way better. Even if he is a fossil.”

“Wow. You don't think I'm good enough for him?” 

“Not good enough to get presents for- for naked stuff.”

“You know what? I'm not even going to go there.” 

Warlock stuck his tongue out at him. “I'm gonna Tweet at him and see what he thinks.”

“Oh my god. Do not tweet at Aziraphale to ask whether or not he would give me things for sex. I swear to someone.” 

“No. I wanna know if he knows what a sugar daddy is.”

“And what are you going to do if he doesn't?” 

“Tell him to ask you. Duh.”

“I swear, if I receive a phonecall with Aziraphale asking me about this…” 

Warlock lifted his chin. “You'll thank me since he'd be calling because of me. Then you can ask him on a real date.”

Crowley groaned. “As much as I appreciate the help, I really don't need it, despite all points to the contrary.” 

“I guess. What if you went to lunch Monday?” Warlock suggested, as eager as Crowley to see what might happen next. And maybe, though he didn’t want to admit it, part of him was selfish enough to recognize that his cousin getting with an alpha would make things much easier. “Then I wouldn't need Tracy because I'd be at school.”

“We'll see how busy I get at work.” As much as he would like to have his lunches free everyday, free time meant less money coming in. “Last time we had lunch, we lost track of time and I got an earful when I got back. Can't make a habit of that.” 

“I guess not.” He tumbled out of the car when Crowley pulled over, waiting for him to come around so they could walk into the ice cream parlour together. “Are you going to tell the lawyer you got a boyfriend?” He grimaced. “Do we have to tell the social worker?”

Crowley put a hand on his shoulder as they approached and he opened the door. “No. I don't have to tell anyone I have a…” Boyfriend sounded too juvenile to be applied to Aziraphale and they weren't boys, not really, they were grown men. Partner was… it felt a bit presumptuous, they hadn't even gone on a proper date yet. “A relationship.”

“Okay. I don’t want you to get in trouble or anything. Or make stuff harder. It’s annoying.”

“Don't worry,” Crowley said with a chuckle. “It's none of their business who I do or don't date.” That could change if they decided to make things more… permanent, but Crowley swatted that thought away entirely. It was way too soon to even be thinking like that. 

“Okay.” Warlock still mulled it over while they ordered ice cream, only giving a half-hearted protest when Crowley told him he could only have one scoop. He didn’t know if he should tell his therapist about it at their next session, not since Aziraphale was making him realize just how toxic his dad had actually been. He was always careful with what he shared with anyone, wary of doing anything to jeopardize his burgeoning life with Crowley. He didn’t want to get thrown into foster care. He didn’t even particularly want to go back to the States. Whatever trouble school was, everything else about the move seemed better.

When they sat - because no food in the car was a number one rule - Warlock jabbed at his ice cream and watched Crowley tug out his phone. “D’you think he’ll follow you back?”

“I doubt it. With how popular his books are, his notifications are probably a hot mess.” Finding AZFellAndCo was easy. His profile picture was of the shop sign, his banner a picture of his books lined up on an old table that Crowley was sure he'd seen in the shop. Neither of those things were surprising, he couldn't imagine Aziraphale taking selfies, let alone posting them on 'the world wide web.' What was surprising, though, was his sixty-thousand followers. “Christ almighty, he's like a minor celebrity.” 

“Well, yeah. You literally saw his book reviews,” Warlock reminded him, jabbing at his ice cream some more and swinging his feet. “You should check out his tags. People take pictures with him, and he’s, like, always got his ears and tail out.”

Yes, he had seen the reviews, but it was still sinking in that he was dating a Bestselling author. His single follow was a drop in a very large bucket. He probably wouldn't even notice. And the tags were something, it was like a game for his dedicated fans to find the shop when it was open just to get a picture with him. “You absolutely should take a picture with him the next time we're all out at a meal. Make all sixty-thousand of his followers jealous.” 

He huffed out a small laugh. “That’d be cool.”

“Yeah, it-” He froze mid-sentence when a little notification popped up at the top of the app. “Oh my god, he actually followed me back.” Crowley immediately scrolled back to the top of Aziraphale's Twitter to send him a message.

That was quick. Were you waiting for me? ;) 

I just so happen to be posting a required Social Media update. 

Seconds later he added, Which I now appear to have lost so must begin again.

Crowley snorted and shook his head. Well dont let me distract you from Required Social Media Updates. 

“Are you guys already talking?”

“We are, yeah. I'm surprised he messaged me back that fast.” 

“Why? He's all alone.”

“Er…” Crowley looked up from his phone at him. “Yeah, but I'm sure he's busy.” And he didn't want to say that he wasn't used to feeling that important to anyone.

Warlock shrugged, unconvinced, and Crowley’s phone pinged with a new message. You're an acceptable distraction, my dear, and my required post has been accomplished. Have you and Warlock arrived home safely? 

Crowley got a little thrill every time the notification popped up. It'd been years since he'd actively anticipated texting anyone. Nah. The pup wanted ice cream, so we stopped to get him some. 

Of course. Do tell him hello, and I hope you both enjoy your dessert.

“Aziraphale wants me to tell you he says 'hello',” Crowley said in a terrible impression of Aziraphale's voice. 

It made the pup snicker. “Okay. Hi back. What's he text like?”

“He texts exactly like he talks. Like, I can practically hear it in his voice. It's uncanny. Perfect spelling and grammar too.” He grinned as he shot a message back. Warlock says hi back.

How kind of him. I followed his profile as well, even though he isn't of the proper age to utilise twitter-dot-com. Please do not take that as a judgment of your parenting skills, however. I have been told no one actually reads the Terms of Use and such, so it is merely an observation.

Please dont tell me you actually read the full TOS. 

It was quite lengthy. I won't bore you with the details. 

Omg. You're joking. 

Certainly not. It said to read them whilst creating the account. 

“What?” Warlock demanded. “Why are you laughing?”

Crowley sent a series of crying-laughing emojis while he tried to stop laughing enough to respond. “He-he read the Twitter terms of service. What kind of person is this?” 

Warlock's jaw actually dropped, the pup gaping at Crowley before whipping out his own phone. 

did u really read the TOS???????? 

Yes. And that's enough laughter from the pair of you, thank you. 

“Crowley, he did!”

“Yes, yes, I know. I can't believe this.” 

Crowley’s phone pinged again. I hate to fuel your fire, but my lawyer had a similar reaction when I called him to discuss ways to renegotiate twitter-dot-com terms. It turns out, that isn't possible.

He let out a snort that the other patrons surely heard. Because NO ONE reads the tos. Youre killing me here. 

 Always happy to entertain, dear boy.

“I cannot believe I'm dating a man that wanted to argue with Twitter over their terms of bloody service.” 

“I can.”

Crowley narrowed his eyes at him, an expression that lost any weight it might have held hidden as it was behind his dark glasses. “And what's that supposed to mean?” 

Warlock wouldn't have been intimidated by it anyway. “It means you're a huge dork.”

“Like recognises like, I suppose.”

Warlock stuck his tongue out. “I’m not a dork. Just you and Aziraphale.”

“Sure, sure.” Crowley smirked at him. “I'll be sure to tell Aziraphale that.” 

There was an instinctual lurch that immediately objected to an alpha finding out he’d insulted him, one that made Warlock’s ears twitch and his heart hammer. He shoved a spoonful of melting ice cream into his mouth to help ignore those new instincts. “I bet he knows he’s a dork and likes it. He wouldn’t dress like a ghost or leave his extras out if he didn’t.”

Crowley watched the mild panic rise then quickly be shoved away. He was learning fast which instincts to listen to and which were best ignored. He didn't think Aziraphale would mind being called a 'dork.' “Do you think he even knows what that is? I mean, he thinks it's The World Wide Web and Twitter-dot-com.” 

“Maybe. He called somebody a ‘pedantic blunderbuss’ on Twitter for correcting something in one of his books, so there’s probably a fancier word for dork he’d know better.”

“Oh my god.” Crowley couldn't stop from snickering. In his opinion, a public social media roasting was absolutely deserved if you tweeted corrections at the bloody author. “This is going to make for excellent bedtime entertainment.”

“You’re probably gonna need a dictionary,” Warlock teased, neverminding that he had to as well. “He uses huge words sometimes.”

“It's called Google, pup, I thought you knew this.” 

“It’s basically the same thing.”

“Don't let Aziraphale hear you say that, he might think you actually don't know what a dictionary is.” 

He grinned in a rare way, expression bright and mischievous. “What do you bet he calls it google-dot-com?”

Crowley grinned right back. “Ten pounds he calls it The Google.” 

And then Warlock actually giggled. “You’re on.”

Chapter Text

“Oh, luv, you know I can rearrange my schedule for you.” Marjorie Potts, as so few knew her, laughed across the telephone line. “You know I love spending some quality time with Warlock, and it’s about time you stepped out of the house for a spot of fun with an alpha. Or anyone, for that matter.”

Crowley let go of the breath he hadn't realised he was holding. Tracy hadn't turned him down for pupsitting yet, but there was always that chance. “You say that like I'll be doing something inappropriate. It's just a date.” As long as Aziraphale agreed. He still hadn't asked him and even though he'd said he wanted to, there was still that nagging worry that he'd changed his mind.

“Oh, I wouldn’t call anything you might want to do inappropriate! So long as it’s between two consenting adults.” Her tone shifted into something playfully sultry. “Or between a whole gaggle of adults, but I won’t ask for details you’re not willing to give.”

“Oh my god.” His cheeks pinked, but Crowley had known Madame Tracy long enough to be mostly used to it. “I swear it's just a date with a nice bloke. That's it.”

“Uh-huh. If Warlock needs to stay the night, you just let me know,” she teased.

Now that was a thought. He didn't think something like that would happen, but it still made his stomach flip to imagine inviting Aziraphale back here, possibly being pushed against the wall in the entry. What would Aziraphale kiss like? Would he be rough and hurried or slow and meticulous? Enthusiastic?

Crowley crossed his legs and cleared his throat. “That won't be necessary, but thank you.”

She clucked her tongue. “Well, the invitation is open if you continue enjoying the company of this ‘nice bloke.’ Does he have a name?”

“He does, surprisingly enough. His name is Aziraphale.”

She gasped audibly over the phone. “Aziraphale Fell?”

Crowley grinned and leaned back in his desk chair. “Why, yes, that is his last name. Don't tell me you read his books.”

“Well! I should say I do, but I think a friend should read another friend’s success.” Mirth filled her tone. “I’ve known Aziraphale for years, luv. Who do you think taught him how to use email? The sweet old soul.”

Crowley snorted. “I assumed it was his agent. What a small world this is.”

“A small world?! Crowley, I've been trying to get you to meet him for months! That nice alpha I was telling you about? Who's a little bit old-fashioned?”

“Wot?!” Crowley gasped. “You've been trying to set me up with Aziraphale?”

“Course I have! Ooh, he's going to get quite the earful come tomorrow. I knew the pair of you would get along like a house on fire, and you go meeting one another behind my back.”

Crowley laughed. “Now, don't go getting your knickers in a twist. We met purely by accident. Ninth Circle wanted his building and sent me in to convince him to sell.”

She cackled. “Surprised he didn't boot you out on your arse for that. He loves that building like it's his own pup.”

“Oh, no, you see, he absolutely did kick me out. Said I was banned and everything. And that woulda been all she wrote, but then Warlock presented as omega and was havin' a rough go of it. Bloody pup tried goin' to the cemetery all on his own and got lost on the tube and was found by Aziraphale.”

“Oh, so that's the pup he met. He told me all about that. He was on the tube coming to see me, actually. He's running low on his favourite teas, and you know I've got some of the best blends. Said he was sweet and sad.” She chuckled. “Also said he met the pup's very handsome guardian.”

Crowley flushed, pleased. Aziraphale thought he was handsome. “But he didn't tell you the pup's guardian had tried getting him to sell his shop.”

“He certainly didn't. He just said you were dashing and had a roguish charm.” She laughed again, clearly delighted. “And when I asked if he was planning on taking this handsome rogue somewhere nice, he stuttered at me and said you probably wouldn't have time for an old fuddy-duddy like him. Silly thing, he is.”

“Oh, come off it. He didn't say any of that. I can barely get a 'more than tolerable' out of him.”

“Oh, as much as he wears his heart on his sleeve, he keeps what's really important hidden away.” Tracy hummed. “You didn't hear this from me, luv, but he's been hurt quite a bit. He's a little scared to put himself out there, but I know from how you've been raising Warlock that you've got enough patience for him.”

He supposed that was true enough. It was a year's worth of work to get where he was with Warlock, some patience for a romantic partner wouldn't be difficult. “I guess that makes sense. We've all got our baggage.”

“That we do. So you just be yourself, and I think you'll both be happy. He's a good alpha, Crowley. A soft touch in some ways, but fairly strong in others. He's named after an angel, or so I'm told, and I think it fits.”

“Right. I-I'll keep all that in mind.” Be himself. Right. That was easier said than done. The words of previously failed relationships rang loud; too needy, too clingy, too much. “Thanks.”

“You're welcome. Now you just ring me back as soon as he says yes to whatever day you have in mind, and I'll be ready to take Warlock for a bit. Alright?”

“I will, I will. And then you can ring him to give him an earful, eh?”

“Oh, believe me, I won't hesitate. Bye now.”

“Bye, Tracy.” He ended the call and laid his head on his desk with a soft groan. He needed to call Aziraphale and actually plan the bloody date, calling Tracy first had just been… putting it off. Not that they hadn't talked at all. There had been plenty of messages sent back and forth via Twitter - Crowley didn't think he'd ever spent so much time on the damn bird app - but asking for a date felt like it needed something less… impersonal than Twitter messaging.

Crowley groaned again and found Aziraphale’s shop number in his phone, still saved as The Bookshop from when he'd called about having Warlock. He blew out a breath and mustered up what courage he had to call and hope he wasn't interrupting anything important.

There was music playing in the background, something cheerful and classic, when Aziraphale answered. “Hello! A.Z. Fell and Company. Unfortunately, we are closed at present.”

“Well it's a good thing I don't plan on buying anything, then.”

“Crowley,” he realised, his name rumbling on a low purr. Crowley could all but see his tail wagging. “Hello, my dear. How unexpected.”

“Hi,” Crowley said, cheeks pinking at how pleased he sounded. “Hope I'm not interrupting any important writing.”

“No, just a bit of tidying.” He chuckled. “Hardly an interruption at all. How's Warlock?”

“He's alright, doing homework at the moment… or at least he's supposed to be.”

“Which means he could be up to anything.” There was a sound like a chair moving. “He told me about his transformation during English, the poor thing. He embarrasses so easily.”

“To be fair, at that age most of them are embarrassed about anything and everything. Just wish he'd transformed during literally any other class. English has been an uphill battle already.”

“Yes, I have no doubt.” Aziraphale clucked his tongue. “Now to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”

“Weelll-” Crowley dragged the word out. “I was hoping you'd agree to have dinner with me. If you're still interested, of course.”

His purr was audible through the line. “My dear, of course I am. When works best for you?”

The sound made Crowley want to melt right there at his desk and all over his desktop keyboard. He cleared his throat and tried not to imagine laying his head on Aziraphale’s chest just to feel the vibrations of it. “R-right. Good. I, ah, if it's not too soon, I thought we could do dinner tomorrow?”

“Ah, yes. That should do nicely. Did you have something in mind?”

“Er, to be entirely honest I wasn't sure I'd get this far.”

“Then allow me. What time?”

“Is six alright?”

“Of course, pet. I'll be waiting. And, ah...” Aziraphale cleared his throat. “Please don't take my lack of pressure as a lack of interest. The latter could not be further from the truth, I assure you.”

“Oh. That's-that's good.” Crowley could have hit himself over the head at how stupid that sounded. The bloody 'pet' must have scrambled his brain. “I was, ah, hoping that was the case.”

“I'm glad. Would it soothe some of those fears to know that I've been thinking of you often? Hoping you might telephone me for just this? Talking to you over the computer is pleasing, but I enjoy your voice.”

Crowley flushed and lamented the lack of a phone wire to twirl around his fingers. Sometimes everything going cordless was not, necessarily, better. “I-it does, a bit. I'm afraid I'm a bit of an anxious mess on a good day, but I like hearing yours too. Y-your voice, that is.”

“Some anxiety is alright, my dear. I honestly find it quite adorable, particularly that little hiss you do. A lisp?”

“Y-yeah. A bit of one. Mostly trained myself out of it now, but you shoulda heard me as a pup. Sounded like a bloody snake half the time.”

Aziraphale chuckled, adding a soothing purr into it. “That genuinely sounds precious.”

Crowley’s eyes widened and he suddenly found himself at a loss for words. “I- Er, that is-”

“Don't start fretting now, sweet omega. It's a simple opinion. Or is it the purring?”

“N-no, no. It's just- no one's ever said that before.”

“Really?” Aziraphale huffed. “That seems ludicrous to me. Well. I, for one, look forward to hearing it a bit more tomorrow evening when it's just us two.”

Crowley flushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, you probably will. It happens more often when I'm embarrassed or-or distracted.”

“Mm. Any other times, pet?”

With his pulse thundering in his ears Crowley bit his lip. He had a quick choice to make here and if Aziraphale was as interested as he said… “Oh, sure, but I, ah, might need another date or two to tell you about that.”

“Something to look forward to, then. Though, in the interest of full disclosure, I am due for my next rut in roughly three months. I may be a bit... Well, I'm sure you know. Alphas must surround you when ruts draw near.”

“I- I mean yeah, it happens, but not more than other omegas, I'm sure. But, ah, thanks for the heads up, at least.” Though he couldn’t deny the very thought made him clench around an unfortunate emptiness.

“Of course. I don't want the... possessive growling to make you nervous.”

Crowley bit his tongue to keep from saying Aziraphale could growl at him whenever he liked. “It's appreciated, but I think it would make Warlock more nervous than me.”

“Yes... I'm afraid I've only rarely been around a pup whilst nearing rut, but I do promise to try and keep as even as possible.”

“I'm sure you’ll do just fine. I only mention it ‘cause he's so new, still getting the hang of things.”

“Yes. I don't want to frighten him.” He sighed. “I should be alright until it's truly imminent.”

“Alright. He-he likes you quite a lot, you know. Never known him to take to someone so fast.”

“That does make me happy, Crowley. He's had a difficult time of things, and I don't want to be a cause of pain for him. Whatever happens between you and I.”

“I don't think you will be,” Crowley murmured. Not only out of an instinct to reassure an alpha, but also because he honestly couldn't see Aziraphale hurting Warlock in any way. “You're like a-a bloody angel.”

“I am named for one,” Aziraphale admitted, the smile clear in his tone. “Perhaps I just enjoy living up to the, ah, hype.”

Crowley chuckled and rested his cheek in his hand. “Well, I'd say you were Warlock's guardian angel when you found him on the tube, so I think you're succeeding.”

“Oh, I hardly did anything. But thank you.”

“I disagree. You kept him safe from the weirdos and actually spent the time to take him to his parents' graves. You protected him. You left an impact, I'd say that's certainly something.”

There was a soft moment of quiet before Aziraphale sighed. “Any pup as frightened and distressed as him would've gotten the same treatment from me, so I suppose it just seems... natural. I am happy to continue being in his life so long as his actual guardian allows.”

“I think I can make room for a guardian angel.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “My dear, you already have been. And I have plenty of room for the two of you, even as cluttered as my shop is.”

“I suppose we'll have to visit more often, then. I don't mind the clutter, it's… cosy.”

“That isn't what most say, but yes. I'd be happy to have visitors more often. Including tomorrow night, yes? I need to make a few telephone calls, but you'll be here at six?”

“I will be, yes, but it'll be just me. No Warlock this time.”

“Yes, my dear, I understood that. I'm... quite glad we finally get to spend some more time alone.”

“Hey, I'm just making sure. My last attempt didn't go nearly as well.”

“Last attempt?”

Crowley flushed. “O-oh, er, when I tried to ask you to dinner at your shop. Kinda botched that one up, I think.”

“Ah. Well, don't fret over it, dear boy. I'm sure next time will go just as well as this one. Or even better.”

“Heh, yeah, maybe. Before you go, though, I feel it's only sporting to warn you that you’ll be receiving a phone call in a few minutes from our mutual friend, Tracy.”

Aziraphale gasped. “You're acquainted with Madame Tracy?”

“Bit more than acquainted,” Crowley laughed. “She's my pupsitter.”

“Really? How fascinating. I met her years ago when...” He trailed off, then gasped again. “You're the handsome omega with the darling pup,” he realised. “Oh, for Heaven's sake.”

Crowley only laughed harder. “Apparently, yes. And you're the sweet alpha with a big heart. She was quite incensed that we met entirely on our own after resisting her attempts to set us up.”

“Of course she was, and now she's going to gloat endlessly because she was correct. You are exceptionally- ah. Mm.”

“Hmm? I'm exceptionally curious about what you were going to say.”

“Well, now you're just fishing for compliments.”

“Ooohhh, you were going to compliment me.”

“Oh, do hush. Obviously I was.”

Crowley laughed again. “Well, if it's any consolation, I'd say Tracy was right about you, too.”

“I'd hope anyone you'd compare to an angel would be big-hearted.” Aziraphale huffed lightly. “But I do appreciate the warning. I'll be able to head her off easier now.”

“You're welcome. I'd hate for her to catch you unawares.”

“As I'm sure she did you. Wicked woman.” Aziraphale clucked his tongue, but there was too much fondness in his tone for any true disapproval to come through. “I'll let you return to parenting now, my dear, and I'll look forward to your appearance tomorrow.”

Crowley was tempted to tell him he didn't have to go and prolong the call, but he probably had more important things to get to, writing and such. “Alright. I'll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow. Mind how you go,” Aziraphale wished and ended the call.

He stared at the call ended screen with a sort of antsy excitement. They were going on a date. A proper date. He hadn't been on a date in… Crowley didn't want to think about it, a while. Certainly before Warlock. He needed to not screw this up.

The call back to Madame Tracy went much faster than the second. He did his best to dodge or ignore her smug teasing and insinuations. She might have been right that they would get on well, but he didn't need any more reason to be nervous. It was just dinner, nothing would happen, and besides, Aziraphale didn't seem like that sort of alpha. But just to get her back a little, he didn't tell her he'd warned Aziraphale. Let her find that out on her own.

“Bloody hell, how do I have nothing good to wear?” Crowley announced to his empty bedroom. Well, empty except for half his closet scattered about on any available surface, floor included. He'd tried on no less than six outfits, none of which felt right. He was confident about the particular pair of black trousers that laid across the foot of his bed, the specific cut made his arse look phenomenal. The trousers were fine, as were the snakeskin boots. It was the shirt he was having trouble with.

Black didn't feel different enough from his usual kit, red felt too loud, grey was dull, and the nice purple one he had on felt way too different from his usual colors to be alright for a first date. The Hawaiian shirt in the very back of his closet that Harriet had sent him on her last Hawaii vacation was rejected outright on principle.

There was also The Pants situation, but at least he was fairly certain something simple and no nonsense was best there.

He grabbed the grey shirt and held it up to himself with his trousers in front of the mirror again. “Ugh. It's too monochrome.”

“You always wear monochrome,” Warlock said from the door, bored of waiting in the living room. “What are you doing?”

“Failing to get dressed, obviously,” Crowley grumbled and tossed the grey shirt in the 'absolutely not' pile.

The pup picked his way through the piles, dropping dramatically onto the bed and messing up every single pile there in the process. “Your room's more of a mess than mine.”

Crowley rolled his eyes and grabbed his red shirt from the chair it was draped over to hold up and squint at. “I'd hope so, since you were supposed to clean it before we go.”

“And you were supposed to look at it.” Warlock huffed at him. “That’s a dumb shirt.”

“How's it dumb? Red's a nice colour.”

Warlock rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I don't think Aziraphale likes red that much.”

Crowley huffed and turned back to the mirror. He couldn't tell if the red clashed with his hair or not. “Why? Because he doesn't wear any?”

“I don't know. But it's too bright. What about green?”

“Urg.” Crowley made a face at him in the mirror. “Green and my red hair do not mix well. I look like a salad.”

He laughed. “You're a dork. You do not.”

“Okay, fine.” He tossed the red shirt over the chair again, not writing it off entirely, and carefully made his way back to the bed. “Not green, but-” He grabbed a midnight blue shirt from one of the piles Warlock had mussed and held it up. “What about this instead?”

It looked okay to him, but he didn't get what the big deal was in the first place. “I think he's gonna care more that we're late than what your shirt looks like.”

“What do you mean we're-” Crowley launched himself at his phone, haphazardly tossed onto the bed, and swore colourfully. He had just under five minutes until six o’clock.

It wouldn't be the first time Aziraphale was stood up. He tapped his fingers against his thighs, trying not to stare at one of his clocks. He did try very hard to be an optimist, but he'd always been rather terrible at it. At 6:05, he began to fidget. At 6:10, he considered calling the restaurant to push back their reservation and by 6:20, Aziraphale was babbling cheerful things to himself in a bid to convince himself that Crowley had a perfectly good explanation for being late.

Or for not coming at all.

“No, no. Of course he's coming. You're being ridiculous,” he said quietly, but checked his pocket watch. Disappointment was a heavy, familiar weight as they ticked closer to 6:30. He'd already set their reservation for 6:45 with plans of inviting Crowley in for an apéritif, but that was right out the window. They'd need every minute just to get to the restaurant.

If Crowley arrived at all.

Aziraphale pressed the air down with his palms, and glanced at his phone. Perhaps he could telephone him and find out what the hold up was?

“No, for Heaven's sake. You know better. He won't want that. He won't want to be smothered. It could be anything. Warlock could be having a-a-an emotional evening. Yes. He's a moody young thing.”

And that did make him feel a little better. It wasn't that Crowley didn't want to step out with him. It was that he had outside responsibilities. Yes. Of course. Perfectly excusable and reasonable and-

He rapped his knee when the phone rang at 6:26, fumbling a bit with the receiver until he could get it to his ear. “Hello?”

“Oh, luv, you are worried if you're not going to give me the whole spiel. Is the shop open?”

He huffed. “Tracy, really.”

She clucked her tongue. “Now none of that. I hear you fretting. Warlock just told me they were running late, and I know you like to work yourself up.”

Aziraphale’s heart fluttered. Running late. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Yes, you do. You can't lie to me, Aziraphale. I know you too well. Now step outside. He'll be there any minute now. And you have yourself a lovely night.”

Aziraphale rubbed a reddened cheek, huffing. “I'm sure I will. We will. Tell Warlock I said hello, and I'm not upset over Crowley’s tardiness.”

“Well, I'm not going to lie to the dear.”

“For Heaven's sake.”

She laughed. “Night, luv.”

“Goodnight, Madame.”

Aziraphale hung up his phone carefully, giving his knee an absent rub before he looked towards the door. Running late. Alright, then. Perhaps a bit more optimism had been in order.

He made his way to the coat rack, donning his coat and stepping outside just as the antique car screeched to a stop at the curb. Not quite the start of their night he'd been expecting, perhaps, but at least he was there. He was still interested.

Crowley tumbled out of the Bentley, keys left behind in the ignition in his haste. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry,” he said quickly. “I hope I'm not too late.”

“Oh...” Aziraphale made his way down the steps quickly, the panic in Crowley’s scent adding a rotten quality to the apples in it. He cupped his cheeks, the instinct to soothe a strong one. He rested their brows together in a gentle nuzzle, ignoring the peculiarity of looking at his own reflection in the shine of Crowley’s sunglasses. “Hush now, none of that. You aren't too late, pet.”

Bourbon, rich chocolate, alpha. He smelled soothing, comforting. Crowley gripped the elbows of Aziraphale's coat and just breathed him in for a moment. He was here, he hadn't written him off as a lost cause yet. “Well, that's embarrassing,” Crowley murmured. “Thanks.”

“You're welcome, my dear. I was working myself into quite a state until Tracy telephoned me, so no need to be embarrassed now.” Aziraphale smiled. “But we are going to be cutting it very close to our reservation.”

“Right!” Crowley gasped, pulling away from him reluctantly. He caught one of Aziraphale’s hands as it fell and tugged him to the car, swiftly opening the door before he had a chance to himself. “Then we have no time to waste.”

“My dear, you have no idea where we’re even going.”

“Well, maybe you should tell me so I can drive us there and not ruin the first proper date I've had in years.”

“Quaglino’s,” he replied simply, slipping into the passenger seat and giving Crowley’s hand a light squeeze. “On Bury Street. I thought you might enjoy some live music?”

“That sounds fantastic.” Crowley squeezed back briefly before letting him go to shut the door for him and rush around to slide into his own seat. “Alright, I think I know where that is. It's near St. James, isn't it?”

“Near there, yes.”

The car smelled almost exclusively of Crowley: caramel sweet enough to melt on the tongue and apples crisp enough to sink one's teeth into. There was only a hint of pup, Warlock's scent still so new and his time in the vehicle infrequent and brief enough that it hadn't yet sunk in. It was only a matter of time, he was sure, but there was something intimate about his own scent filling the vehicle as well. Like stepping into an omega's bedroom.

Aziraphale hummed, reining in the instinctual satisfaction as the old car roared to life. This omega wasn't his. It was only a date. “Have you ever been?”

“Can't say that I have, but I've passed by it often enough. My flat's just west of there, across Piccadilly.”

“Gosh. You aren’t far at all, are you? You could walk to my shop if you wanted to.”

“Oh, sure. Might even be faster than driving some days.”

“I’m sure, but you’ve only come to visit for work and on your way home with Warlock. So it does make sense that you haven’t had cause to head my way on a stroll.”

Crowley blew out a breath. “To be honest, going for a stroll isn't usually on the agenda. Even before Warlock work kept me busy enough.”

“Ah, yes. I’m sure you have to be available often if things crop up. I did see the For Sale sign at the coffee shop. Ms. Hensley seems tickled pink.”

“She should be. If that place sells for even a fraction of what she wants for it it'll be more than enough to move where she wants.” And the commission would put a serious dent in his accrued debt.

“Oh, I’m sure. She does say you’re a pleasure to work with, so thank you. The next time you come by, I have an... Well. I have a very dear friend for you to work with. It’s a delicate situation, but I believe I can trust you with it.”

Crowley raised his eyebrows and cocked his head curiously. “That sounds a little ominous.”

Aziraphale waved a hand. “Delicate in a tragic way, I’m afraid. But dealing in antiques as I do, I’m privy to quite a few estate sales. I even travel when something catches my attention or when a contact assures me that an event will be worth my time. And, on occasion, I become friendly with persons holding events or those who are otherwise involved.” Or he'd known them their entire life and just didn't yet want to admit that Crowley.

“Oohh, an estate sale. Haven't done many of those.” He hummed, considering. “Usually requires special handling with wills and the like.”

“Yes, but I can assure you the home is owned entirely by the widow. I assisted with that. The paperwork side of things. She was rather... Ah. It’s only that she’s been searching for someone trustworthy to handle the sale for well over a year now. Poor thing lost her alpha rather suddenly, and she and her pups are... They just need to part with it.”

Crowley grimaced. Poor things, but at least the pups still had their mother. “That's got to be rough and I understand.” He shook his head. “Warlock didn't want anything to do with the condo back in New York. Every time I even so much as brought it up, he'd just shut down.”

“Yes… That’s why I thought you might be more… sensitive to her plight. And, of course, she prefers working with an omega. And you of all people would know how rare those are in your field.”

“I sure as hell do. Only omega in my office and one of two in my class when I got my licence. Honestly if I wasn't so much of a stubborn spiteful bastard I'd have done something else.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “I’m sure. In any case, her home is worth just over sixteen million pounds at last estimate.”

Crowley choked and barely managed to not swerve into oncoming traffic. “Sixteen million pounds?!”

“She’s in South Kensington,” he explained. “They do have a second home in the country, which is another reason why they’re willing to sell this one. It’s a lovely little place. Seven bedrooms, if I recall correctly.”

“Lovely little place,” Crowley repeated faintly. “I'd hate to know what a large place is.”

“Her country home. Twice as many bedrooms, but she also has the land.” Aziraphale chuckled. “I’d be tempted to purchase her home myself if I had any use for the space.”

Crowley wheezed. “What? You don't need seven bedrooms for all the antiques and books you don't sell?” He personally couldn't even imagine having enough money for that much space, let alone what someone would do with it.

“Heavens, no. I have the shop.”

“Of course you do.” He shook his head with a small smile. What an odd alpha. “Aaand I think- Yes! Here we are.” Crowley quickly found a place on Bury Street to park.

Aziraphale smiled, carefully unbuckling his seat belt and stepping out when they pulled to a stop. He was quick to cross to Crowley’s door and pull it open, offering his hand and a smile.

Crowley laughed and he felt his stomach do a little flip when he slipped his hand into Aziraphale’s. He didn't need it, but his cheeks still pinked somewhat when Aziraphale helped him up. “How gentlemanly of you.”

“I do try. I know it's rather old-fashioned, but...”

“Old-fashioned in the right ways, I think.”

Aziraphale’s scent flared with pleasure, reflected in his bright smile as he tucked Crowley’s hand on the crook of his arm. “Thank you, my dear. I hope that opinion doesn't change too quickly.”

His arm was warm under Crowley’s hand, even through his coat, and Crowley had to resist pressing the length of their bodies together as they crossed the street. Such a thing would be awfully presumptuous on his part, even if his scent drew him in like a moth to a flame. “Well, as I see it, you've treated me with nothing but respect so far. A few quirks here and there's just, I dunno, an interesting person.”

It was very kind. Aziraphale patted his hand rather than fret over how soon quirky would become irritating. “I do have respect for you, you know. A bachelor taking on a pup - a difficult thing without contending with the tragedy. Not only that, but you've got yourself a very good career. However much I dislike the firm and people you work for, that doesn't extend to estate agents on the whole.”

Crowley chuckled and shook his head. “Giving me a bit too much credit here. Taking in Warlock was… it was the right thing to do. And what I do, it's just a job, really. I was shit at school, didn't have the attention span for it, so I went the easy route and did a quick program to get the licence instead of struggling for years on a degree.”

Aziraphale clucked his tongue. “And I dropped out after two semesters. You're still doing something, Crowley, and there's a vast difference between taking him in because it was the right thing to do and taking care of him because you love him.”

“Of course I love him.” It hadn't even occurred to him to do anything else. “I'd have to have been a heartless bastard to not.”

“Like his father's side of the family, hm?” Aziraphale gave him a pointed look before opening the door. “After you.”

Crowley’s grin held no mirth in it as he passed. “How did you know I spent the last year making sure not a one of them got a single penny?”

“Did you really?”

“Oh, yeah. Quite a lot of my lawyer fees went to fighting the bastards. Thad was a lawyer for high profile cases and had more money than he knew what to do with. No one wanted anything to do with Warlock, but once the will was released and read they all swooped in like greedy vultures.”

“Wretched things.”

Aziraphale greeted their host, giving his name so they could be taken to their table. There was a small crowd, but the low murmur of conversation was backed by a band playing light jazz. At their table, Aziraphale pulled out Crowley’s chair for him, but the amused curve of his lips showed this extra step was more of a joke than the previous bouts of politeness.

Having doors opened for him and chairs pulled out was certainly old-fashioned. Crowley couldn't remember even the previous most polite dates doing so. But it was… it was nice. Something about it felt like being taken care of in a way that pleased his omega instincts. “Thank you, angel.”

The smile softened, his tail swishing cheerfully. “Of course, pet.”

Crowley watched him sit across from him, delighted by the way his tail wagged. “I don't think you said if you've been here before.”

“A few times. Particularly if the entertainment is pleasing. Though I do tend to stay at the bar when I'm on my own.”

“That makes sense.” He wondered how many other dates Aziraphale had brought here and the thought made something uncomfortable twist in his chest. “I like it, has a good atmosphere. Lot of places with live music it's so loud you can't really hear anything else unless you shout.”

“Yes. And it can happen here, mind, but not terribly often. I'd be upset if it had happened tonight.” Aziraphale beamed at him. “I like chatting with you.”

Crowley grinned back and set his chin in his hand. “That's good, things wouldn't last very long if we didn't like talking to each other.”

“No.” Aziraphale’s ears twitched forward, as perked as they could get and clearly intrigued. Ready to listen. “Though I'm rather rusty at all of this. It's been some time since I... indulged in a relationship.”

“Really? That makes two of us, then. It's been a few years for me. I'd say I was a bit of a workaholic before Warlock.”

“Not interested in romance or just focused?”

“The latter, actually. Desperate to prove myself professionally and stubbornly refusing to fail like I'd been told I would.”

Aziraphale reached across the table and took his hand, thumb rubbing circles over the back. “I apologise, Crowley, for the way I acted when you handed me your card. However aggrieved I felt and feel after dealing with your coworkers, I treated you in an uncalled for way.”

Crowley smiled a little crookedly and told his heart to stop fluttering all over the place from a simple touch of a hand. “Well, I've been told, and I quote, ‘He loves that building like it's his own pup,’” Crowley said in his most awful Tracy impersonation. “So I think I can understand the reaction.”

Aziraphale chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Tracy has the advantage of having known me for years. She knows it's all I have left of my family.”

“I'm sorry to hear that. For what it's worth, I don't have any hard feelings about it. I was being a bit deceitful, after all.”

“You were, but I would have overlooked it had you worked anywhere else.” Aziraphale’s lips twitched. “You managed to enchant me very quickly, I'll have you know.”

Crowley smirked and tried not to be too terribly pleased with himself. “That was sort of the goal, you know. Though I'm very glad the enchantment wasn't broken entirely.”

“I'm quite glad it seems to be mutual.” Aziraphale didn't let his hand go when the waiter arrived. It was a smaller, specialised menu, so it wasn't difficult to select starters and drinks and send him on his way again. “What time is Warlock expecting to be picked up?”

“I originally told him no later than nine or nine-thirty, figured that'd give us plenty of time, aaand then I went and made myself late.” And he purposefully failed to mention how Tracy had insisted Warlock was welcome to stay all night.

“It's alright, my dear. We'll still have time enough. Dare I ask what held you up, though?”

Crowley flushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, ah, I guess you could say I lost track of time trying to dress myself.”

Aziraphale blinked at him, surprised. “You... Oh.” He giggled, squeezing Crowley’s hand while his free one lifted to try and smother the sound. “Oh, good Lord, Crowley. You adorable thing.”

The red of his face only deepened and climbed up closer to his hairline. “You're supposed to be cross, not think I'm adorable.”

“My dear boy, it's very difficult to not find you darling. It could be that scent of yours. It's difficult to get it out of mind.”

That wasn't helping his blush in the least. He wasn't used to this, mistakes being brushed aside and forgiven so easily. Maybe Aziraphale really was an angel. “Now you're just saying things to get a reaction,” Crowley mumbled, but he couldn't hide the way his scent flared in delight.

“Possibly. It isn't any less true. And, since you worried so much over it, I do like your outfit. The blue looks quite fetching with your hair.”

“T-thankss.” He had to resist biting down on his tongue to stop the hiss, though the automatic response to tense up and prepare for ridicule was more difficult to fight back.

There wasn't any ridicule in Aziraphale’s smile, though, only a gentle fondness reflected in the way he cradled Crowley's hand. “If compliments fluster you so, I'll have to give you more.”

“It-it's not that. I just, well, I guess I'm just not used to it.”

“I can't imagine why. Even with you working so much, alphas must throw themselves at you.” Aziraphale tipped his head curiously. “You're stylish, lovely, smell mouthwateringly sweet, and you're fascinating to speak with.”

It was a lot to take in, so many nice things said by an alpha he was actually interested in. Crowley wasn't sure his face would ever return to its natural colour. “It's just- It's different when it's someone you know, e-even a little bit, than some stranger who's just, well, just trying to get something.”

“Oh, yes. That does make sense.” Aziraphale lifted his hand, lips brushing over his knuckles. “I'm flattered that you're giving me time you haven't shared with others.”

Crowley’s lips parted on a silent breath and when Aziraphale set his hand back down on the table Crowley turned it so they would be palm to palm. “Has anyone ever told you you're very charming?”

Aziraphale laughed. “Yes.” Though it normally didn't last. Because these weren't things he did to be quirky. They were things he just did. “I'm told it can be overbearing, however, so feel free to ask me to stop if I ever do anything too far. I'm not trying to... What was it? Ah... Erase or poke fun at your independence.”

Crowley didn't see how opening doors or pulling out chairs or any of the other silly, but harmless, things Aziraphale did could ever erase his independence. “Don't tell me someone's actually said that,” he said with a small laugh.

“Unfortunately, someone has.” Aziraphale’s smile was missing much of its usual cheer. “I... wear on people.”

That made his laugh die fairly quickly. Someone had hurt this alpha enough to make him lose the natural confidence he should have had. Crowley felt his own protective streak flair up and wrapped his long fingers around Aziraphale’s wrist. “Well, I think that's a very cruel thing to say to someone.”

“Perhaps. But I'm quite used to criticism, Crowley.” Aziraphale shook his head, trying to push more cheer back into his smile. “Past relationships usually aren't best discussed with current partners, though. I am modern enough to recall that rule.”

Crowley chuckled and gave his wrist a squeeze. “That's mostly a young people thing, but not normally something discussed on a first date, no.”

“Ah. You don't think you count as a young person?”

“Aziraphale, how old do you think I am?”

He tipped his head, ears twitching. “I don't believe I'll answer that.”

Crowley smirked slowly, enjoying teasing him. “Come on, I'm insanely curious.”

“I would say, ah... not yet thirty.” As cautious an estimate as he could think to make.

“Well look at you, guessing ages so closely. You are correct. I'm not yet thirty, but that'll change this year.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened. “Gosh. I assumed you were, ah, closer to twenty-five. Regardless, you're still barely old enough to be Warlock's father.”

Crowley's grin turned mischievous. “Why, angel, were you expecting some bright-eyed young thing? Terribly sorry to disappoint.”

He hadn't seen Crowley’s eyes to say if they were bright, though his cheeks burned in embarrassment besides. This could change everything very quickly and, really, he should've said something far sooner. When, he didn't know, but sooner. “I... Compared to me, you are quite a young thing.”

“Is that a problem?” It wasn't for him. Older alphas were generally more settled than younger ones, more likely looking for something permanent and not quick little flings.

“Not for me, but...” Aziraphale wanted desperately to tangle their fingers in search of something secure to hold, but Crowley could pull away. He should be able to if he wanted. “I'm forty-eight.”

So younger than Crowley assumed. The white hair had made him think fifties at least. “So that's, what? Nineteen year difference?” He shrugged lightly. “Could be worse.”

Their fingers tangled after all. “You're alright with such a gap?”

“Aziraphale, I came on this date figuring you were somewhere older than fifty. Definitely think it's alright.”

A little laugh bubbled up. “So we each believed the gap was wider than it is. My pretty young thing,” he teased.

There was something very flattering about Aziraphale saying he was his and Crowley's cheeks dusted with pink. “I suppose we did, and here I was just happy I turned the head of a handsome alpha.”

Aziraphale laughed, his blush returning as he squeezed Crowley’s hand. “You certainly turned my head. Though... May I ask you a rather... Well, I'm sure it'll come off as a presumptuous question, but it's merely curiosity. It's also quite personal.”

Crowley hummed, considering him. “Alright, I suppose, but only if I get to ask one back.”

“Yes, of course. It's only fair.” Aziraphale looked down at their hands, hum soft. “Are you... interested in having pups of your own? Besides Warlock.”

His eyes widened behind his glasses. That hadn't even been on his radar of expected questions, though Crowley supposed he should have expected as much eventually. “I- well, to be entirely honest I'm not sure. Before Warlock it just seemed like something that just wasn't in the cards for me and I was alright with that. Raising Warlock isn't really all that bad, even on my own. He's almost a teenager, doesn't really need the looking after and care an infant would need. So I don't- I don't know…” Crowley paused, blushing. “That's not really a very good answer to your question, is it?”

“No, it is. It's nice to know where your head is regarding these things. Even if it is that you don't know.” Aziraphale smiled. “And I do appreciate honesty, as you know.”

“I don't think omitting information can be counted as not being honest,” he said with a grin. “Though my question seems terribly silly compared to that.”

“Ask away, pet.”

Crowley eyed the way his folded ears were perked in curiosity and the happy, easy swish of his fluffy tail. “Why do you keep the ears and tail out?”

“Oh! Ah. Hm.” His ears twitched back, as clear a show of embarrassment as his blush. “Well... They're... Originally, it was because I didn't know if I wanted to return to the woods or remain human. Now it, um... They're... stuck.”

That's-” Crowley grinned, delighted, and squeezed his fingers. “That's awfully adorable and much more common than a lot of people know.”

“I'm well aware. I've had medical professionals attempt to... Well, they call it fixing me, but it's been fifteen years. I'm quite fine with it.”

“Yeah, I mean, it's not like it's hurting you or anything and it could have been a lot worse. Could've gotten stuck as full wolf and never able to change back.” Crowley shuddered a little at the memory.

“I've heard of that happening. It must be a frightening struggle, particularly if one doesn't want to stay that way.”

Crowley considered him a moment and figured it couldn't hurt. “Yeah, I can definitely say it's not a fun experience.”

Aziraphale reached his other hand out, holding Crowley’s in both now. “Oh, you sweet dear, I'm so very sorry. That must've been a fright. Was it near a... Well, pardon me. Was it near a heat? I've heard the hormones make it more likely to happen.”

“Yeah, wish someone woulda told me that. Though I'm not sure how much I would've listened after four months of living wild.”

“I can certainly imagine.” Aziraphale smiled. “After three years, I didn't want to listen to anyone. I nearly didn't, and I'm not quite the independent thing you are.”

“Three years? Good god. After my four months I was very over shitting in the woods.”

Aziraphale’s laughter bubbled up and out, and he didn't bother to smother it. “Oh, you absolute terror. There's much more to it than that. Some weekends, I still close shop and take a journey to the country.”

“Yeah, I mean, I know there's more to it, but you have to admit modern plumbing and electricity can't be beat. Not to mention not freezing your tail off in the winter.”

Aziraphale sighed. “Yes, well, that's easier with a pack. Between the struggle of establishing one and one of my mothers falling ill, returning seemed the wise choice.”

“Oh, I'm sorry about that. I hope that wasn't something serious.”

It had ended up taking her, but Aziraphale wasn't sure if that was appropriate dinner conversation. “It's... It's a very long story, and not a favourite tale I have of either of my mothers.”

Crowley smiled softly at him and nodded. “A story for another time, then.”

“Yes.” His ears perked anew, grateful that he didn't push. “I do hope we have more time alone in future.”

“I'm sure that can be arranged. And I'll try not to be late next time.”

“I'm sure. No need to fret over your clothes next time, either. I assure you, I'd find you handsome regardless of your attire.”

Crowley flushed and tried not to appear as pleased as he felt. “Yeah, well, forgive me for wanting to impress.”

The pleased flare of Crowley’s scent was impossible to miss, Aziraphale’s tail flicking happily at it. “You, pet, don't have to try.”

“Flatterer.”

“Is honesty flattery?”

Crowley hummed and tapped his chin. “By the strictest definition, I suppose not.”

“There we are, then.” Aziraphale let his hands go and nudged the menu towards him as their waiter returned with drinks and starters.

And with the soft music helping set the tone, their date continued despite the bumpy start.

Chapter Text

Aziraphale was chuckling as they pulled into a spot just across the street from the bookshop. It wasn't quite nine o'clock, though, so he wondered if he could possibly steal back some of the time they'd lost in Crowley’s fretting to get ready for the evening.

“I've had a lovely time tonight, Crowley.”

“So have I.” Crowley grinned at him, glad his little mishap from the start of their night hadn't ruined anything. “No one told me you were intelligent and funny.”

Aziraphale giggled, wiggling happily in place. “Some things one just has to experience. Would you... like to continue? I've acquired a coffee pot.”

“You've acquired a coffee pot. Don't tell me you didn't have one.”

He wiped his hands down his thighs. “I don't drink coffee.”

“Then why-” Crowley stopped and stared at him. Aziraphale didn't drink coffee, but he did. It made something warm settle in his chest. “Oh, angel, you didn't have to do that.”

“If you hadn't come and used it, I could sell it easily enough. So it wasn't any harm.” Aziraphale’s ears twitched. “Would you like to come in for a bit?”

Crowley’s smile came easy. “I'd love to.”

“Wonderful. I'd suggest a more alcoholic nightcap, but we did have wine and you have a pup to get home safely.”

“That I do.” Following Aziraphale out of the Bentley and into the shop felt like the easiest thing in the world. The shop was comfortable and while the Bentley had started to pick up Aziraphale’s scent, it was nothing compared to how strong it was here in Aziraphale's home.

“Eventually, you'll know right where you're going in here. Would you prefer the parlour area or the kitchenette?

“Parlour's fine, I think.” Crowley was happy to let Aziraphale lead him around a few bookshelves to the comfortable looking couch and chair in the back. The only thing different from the last, and first, time he'd been back here was Aziraphale’s laptop. And he hoped, genuinely, that things between them would actually last long enough to learn the shop, to know its ins and outs in a way Aziraphale’s unwanted customers never would.

Aziraphale hoped for the same, but he never went into any relationship with the expectation that it would fail. At this point in his life, he wouldn't be surprised, but he didn't expect an end. And he wasn't going to treat Crowley as if one was inevitable. “You just sit wherever you're most comfortable, my dear, and I'll be back in two shakes of a lamb's tail.”

Crowley settled onto the old sofa with an arm thrown over the back. It was just as comfortable as it looked, worn in from use and time. The best part, though, was how it was soaked in Aziraphale's scent and, Crowley realised with a thrill, he might actually smell a little like him when he left. It was dark back here, too. The light from the single lamp low enough that he might actually be able to take his glasses off without issue.

Cosy, that's what it was. Everything, from Aziraphale himself to his shop, was the height of cosiness. Crowley let his head tip back, eyes closing to soak in as much of it as he could.

Which is how Aziraphale found him minutes later, his purrs rumbling low and soft. He liked that the omega trusted him enough to relax so completely, his instincts warmed through. “Haven't drifted off yet, have you?”

Crowley smiled, having heard him approach this time. The shop was quiet enough, just the tick of a distant clock, that he'd had no trouble hearing the coffee brewing and the shuffle of feet. “Nah. 'S a bit early for my bedtime.”

“Mm. I can't imagine raising a pup lends itself well to late nights.” Aziraphale approached, setting a tray down on a coffee table. He offered Crowley a small cup with a smile. “It's a, ah, vanilla cappuccino. Fascinating what little machines do nowadays. I had a young American lady I'm acquainted with show me how it's done, so I wouldn't serve you sludge. She likes to bring me rare books.” And complain about how difficult it was to get her law degree in England, but that was a different matter.

His smile widened as he sat up a little straighter to take the offered cup. It warmed his hands, even as small as it was. “You didn't have to go through so much trouble just for me.”

“I wanted to. I want you to be comfortable. Part of me just truly misses being around omegas, but another part thoroughly enjoys your company, Crowley.”

“O-oh.” Something twisted, almost painfully, in his chest. Aziraphale wanted him around, had gone out and bought and learned something just for him. “Well, thank you, then.”

Aziraphale studied him for a quiet moment, breathing in his sweet scent, and let it lead him into a place that was more confident. He cupped Crowley’s chin, thumb brushing his lower lip. “You're very welcome, pet.”

Crowley’s breath caught and eyes went wide behind his glasses. His nose was full of Aziraphale's alpha scent: bourbon and chocolate. “Angel,” he murmured, feeling the way Aziraphale’s thumb moved with his lip. “Would you like to sit with me?”

“I would. Though, to be perfectly honest, I'm not at all used to the way your scent draws me in. Anytime I'm near you, I want to do whatever needs done to ensure you never leave.”

“I have to admit that's terribly flattering.” And made him want to do anything to be kept. No one had ever wanted to keep him around before.

“I'd rather that than you find it frightening, lovely thing.” Aziraphale released him reluctantly, but sat beside him and plucked up his teacup. “I've never had this sort of a reaction to an omega before, Crowley.”

“Seriously? Never?”

“No. I grew up with omegas, so I'm rather used to them being around.” Aziraphale looked down, rubbing his thumb against the side of his cup. “Or, well, I was. But I haven't had such a visceral reaction in the years my mothers have been gone either.”

Crowley blinked a few times at him. “You… didn't have any alpha parents?”

It had been a problem in the past. Or at least something previous partners - or even potential ones - had taken issue with. But Aziraphale met Crowley’s gaze evenly. He wasn't ashamed of his parentage. “I didn't, no. My mothers were both omegas.”

“Oh.” His brow furrowed a bit as he thought about it. Mouth opened then closed only to open again. “That's definitely different.” And explained some things, like Aziraphale’s general lack of aggression.

“Yes, it was. Growing up, I was told over and over that I would never present as an alpha. Then I was told I would never be a proper one. But I never understood any of the objections or those who questioned how their relationship could possibly work.” He shrugged lightly. “They loved one another, and they loved me. It was as difficult and as simple as that.”

“Well, love's the most important part, I think. Everything else is secondary, really.”

“Yes.” Aziraphale laid a hand on Crowley’s knee, ears perked and smile bright as his eyes. “Just so. Do you know my latest book actually caused controversy? I added a couple with just that relationship and had to fight both my agent and my publisher, but it's earned me some of the nastiest letters and some of the kindest I've received to date.”

Crowley returned his smile and laid his hand over Aziraphale’s, fingers curling around his palm. “If my limited knowledge of literature is correct, that means you've done something right.”

“That's certainly how I feel about it.” Aziraphale studied him carefully, but nothing in his expression or his scent had gone beyond simple surprise. “And I intend to write more. Thank you for... not being judgmental.”

Crowley shrugged dramatically, sipped at his now cooled coffee. “Eehh, it's no big deal to me. I mean, I admit my brain is currently struggling to wrap around the logistics of it, but I also know that's none of my business.”

“No, and I appreciate that as well. To be perfectly honest with you, I don't know how exactly I came to be. Knowing more about their options now, I'm sure a donor was involved somehow. But I'm not even sure who carried me. It never mattered.” He gave his knee a squeeze, relaxing against the cushions as much as his neat posture would allow. “It's been nearly twenty years since I lost the pair of them, though. Nearly half my life now, and I still miss them. It makes it easier to understand Warlock's plight.”

“It never gets any less painful, just easier to manage over time.” Crowley ran his thumb over Aziraphale’s knuckles, feeling the rise and fall of each one. “I'm sure they'd be proud of you, playing guardian angel to a lost pup.”

Aziraphale’s purr rumbled. “I like to think so. I like to think they’d be proud of me for keeping this place going, too, even sporadically.”

“Oh, I'm sure they would be. And of your writing too. That's like, the writer's goal to be a best selling novelist.”

“My goal was just to entertain, really. I like what I write, and I did hope others would enjoy it as well. I’m certainly not trying to suggest it doesn’t matter, but a small response would’ve made me just as happy.”

“Well you must have good taste, then. Seeing as how you've got so many fans agreeing and also liking what you write.”

“I have excellent taste. For more than just writing, obviously.” Aziraphale lifted Crowley’s hand, lips curving as they pressed against the back.

Crowley laughed to cover up how the action made his stomach swoop. “Keep saying things like that and my ego won't fit in my flat.”

“I wouldn’t want it to force Warlock out, so I best mind my words.” Aziraphale chuckled, Crowley’s laughter not quite able to hide the flare of his scent. He turned his hand over, lips finding the pulsepoint of his wrist.

Crowley tried to huff, but his breath was caught just like his hand. Fingers curved around Aziraphale’s face, seeking out the warmth of him and also wanting to keep him close. “Probably for the best,” he managed. “Don't want to uproot the pup twice in as many years. Might not forgive me.”

“Probably not,” Aziraphale agreed. “And as much as talk of him should distract, you’re incredibly responsive. It makes me want to know how else I might touch you or where else I might put my mouth.”

“Oh,” Crowley murmured, struggling to come up with a response that wasn't just “anywhere.” “You could always, ah, try kissing me, for a start.”

Aziraphale smiled, retreating to set his tea down and remove Crowley’s mug from his own limp grasp before it could spill. “I could. I’ve been thinking about it for some time.”

He had to swallow back the whine that threatened to rise up when he didn't suddenly find himself with a face full of alpha. Crowley thought that had been a fairly obvious invitation. “W-why haven't you, then?”

“I like to have permission. You and I both know I could probably do as I like with you. You’re such an eager thing,” he teased. “But I find reciprocated desire tastes much sweeter. There’s also the matter of your glasses.”

His cheeks burned and Crowley quickly looked away, trying to rein himself back in. Eager might have been fine now, but it quickly became needy, clingy. He cleared his throat and adjusted the aforementioned glasses. “They're not a problem, are they?”

“They may bump uncomfortably. If you trust me, you could take them off and keep your eyes closed.”

“No it's- It's fine.” And an easy distraction from his own stupid insecurities. “You know how you got stuck with your ears and tail after changing back? Well, I didn't get anything like that, nothing physically obvious, anyway. But my eyes never fully went back.” He slipped the glasses off and looked over at Aziraphale as he folded the arms in. “Wolf eyes are fantastically good at seeing in the dark, but human brains aren't set up to handle that. Too much light and the migraine puts me down for hours.”

“Oh.” With a mix of sympathy and awe, Aziraphale reached up and cupped his cheek. They were a vibrant gold. Not unheard of, but certainly not commonplace. “It must’ve been quite an adjustment.”

Crowley huffed a little and tilted his head into Aziraphale’s hand. “Honestly, at the time I was just glad I'd changed back. Fucked up eyes was a small price to pay for that.”

“I’m sure.” Aziraphale smiled, thumb swiping gently beneath a golden eye. “Pretty thing. Could I kiss you now, Crowley?”

“I think I'd be a bit put out if I went through all that trouble and you didn’t.”

“Only a bit?” he wondered, enjoying the little impatient scrunch of Crowley’s nose before he leaned closer and brushed their lips together. Gentle, soft, a tease just to feel Crowley’s lips warm against his own. “Lovely,” he murmured, hand sliding around to cup the back of his neck to keep him in place as he sank into a deeper kiss.

Crowley’s hands somehow found themselves clenched in the lapels of Aziraphale's coat. A desperate bid to pull him closer even as he tried, and failed, to not be affected. Aziraphale's lips were just so warm and he couldn't help the soft noise he made when the hand at the back of his neck slipped higher into his hair.

Aziraphale let himself be pressed closer, using the hand in Crowley’s hair to tilt his head and deepen the kiss further. His tongue slipped between parted lips on Crowley’s next sound, eyes fluttering shut as he took in Crowley’s taste, his scent, his nearness. He was lean against him, Aziraphale’s other hand sliding down to his waist. Want rolled through him, a hungry desire to take claim and possess. An alpha craving an omega - something Aziraphale had never truly felt, not so strongly and not so singularly.

It was easy, as easy as breathing or living, to kiss Aziraphale. He moaned around Aziraphale’s tongue, his scent was such a heady thing. Something he could get lost in, guided by Aziraphale’s steady, sure hands.

Aziraphale’s growl rumbled in response to the moan, other hand sliding down to grasp his waist. He effortlessly hauled Crowley into his lap, swallowed his gasp. He wanted him as close as could be, wanted to taste and touch every inch just to start from the top and do it all again.

Being manhandled into Aziraphale’s lap had definitely been a surprise, but not one Crowley would complain over. Not at all. Like this it was easier to press chest to chest, something that caused a pleased rumble in Aziraphale, and easier to finally get his hands in those curls and confirm they were just as soft as he'd thought.

“Pretty thing,” Aziraphale purred, kiss breaking to allow tongue and teeth to travel down Crowley’s throat in nippy little kisses. His hands ached to delve beneath that dark blue shirt and find the skin beneath, but he kept them wound around Crowley’s waist. “Sweet omega.” With a sweet scent Aziraphale couldn’t help but nuzzle into, the oil of his gland coating his lips.

Crowley shivered and gasped for breath he'd forgotten he needed. “Keep that up and-and you’ll smell like me,” he mumbled, purr giving away just how much he liked that.

“Is that a promise, pet?”

“You bet your sexy arse it is.”

Aziraphale chuckled, nipped a spot on his lower jaw. “I would enjoy that very much. As much as I’d like you to smell like me.”

Crowley groaned and laid his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder. “I-I'd like that. To smell like you, that is.” It was like being claimed, less permanent, but still wanted.

It was probably too early to give him something scented, but the desire to do so was nearly overwhelming. And with Crowley still in his lap, the taste and scent of Crowley on his tongue, Aziraphale dipped a hand into his pocket and retrieved a small kerchief. “As we don’t have as much time as I’d like to spend ensuring that…”

The movement drew his attention and his heart picked up speed at the sight of the handkerchief. It was tartan and a terribly traditional thing, but it didn't stop the instinctual want to have something with his- with Aziraphale’s scent on it. “I- I don't have anything to give you.”

“That is a far better response than ‘no one carries kerchiefs anymore.’” Aziraphale smiled. “You can turn it down if you like, but you deserve to know I have more serious intentions.”

“O-oh.” It sounded too good to be true. No one actually wanted to keep him around, not for very long anyway. That wasn't going to stop his stupid little optimistic heart from making metaphorical grabby hands and clinging for all it was worth. Crowley shook his head and swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Course 'm not gonna turn it down.”

Aziraphale’s smile brightened like the sunrise, his tail thwacking hard against the back of the couch. “Really?”

Crowley huffed a soft laugh and pulled his hand closer so he could press his nose into the soft fabric that smelled of Aziraphale. “Yes, really, but I'm glad you know no one carries these things anymore.”

“I carry them.” Aziraphale’s tail continued to beat against the sofa in soft, rhythmic thumps. It was more than a little exciting to have an omega accept a scented gift. It would be even more exciting if Crowley actually carried it around so that he'd always carry a hint of Aziraphale’s scent on him. Any other alphas would be able to smell him on this lovely man and know he had someone else. It wasn't a Mark, but it was a step. “I'll refresh it for you whenever you like.”

“I'd hope so. You're not the only one attracted to a scent.”

“Sweet omega.” Aziraphale let it go in favour of cupping Crowley’s cheek and pulling him down for another kiss.

Crowley let himself be guided down, this kiss slower and less hurried than before. He sneakily pressed the kerchief to the scent gland at Aziraphale's throat and smiled when that earned him a laugh. “You said whenever I like.”

“Yes, of course. Silly thing.” Aziraphale smiled, eyes bright with a giddy sort of hope. “I hope it means you visit more. With Warlock counts. I don't want him to ever feel excluded.”

“Of course.” Crowley rested their foreheads together, his purr soft. “Warlock likes visiting you, after all. He asks to come by almost every day.”

“I promise, if you give in a bit more often, I won't be upset.”

“I'll keep that in mind. Didn't want to smother you or something.”

“Crowley, I bought a modern coffee machine. I'm not entirely sure how else to convey that I would like to be smothered.”

“Most people already have a coffee maker, angel.” He laughed at the flat look Aziraphale gave him. “Alright, alright. How about this: we'll swing by after school a couple days a week and if you get tired of it or-or need a break we can switch things up.”

“That would be perfectly acceptable.” Aziraphale playfully ruffled his hair, mussing the coif and indulging in the desire to discover if it was soft. “I bet you have adorable ginger ears.”

Crowley flushed and ducked his head. “Tipped black at the ends,” he admitted while straightening the lapel he'd accidentally crumpled.

“Oh, you can't tell me that and not show me. If, ah, if you're comfortable with it.”

“It's- It's not a big deal, just- gimme a second. Been a while.” Crowley closed his eyes and leaned into the hand cupping his face. A warm anchor that smelled like comfort and safety. He breathed, focusing on only shifting just enough and between one breath and the next he felt it happen.

Aziraphale watched the adjustment with wide eyes, his own ears perking as Crowley’s poked out from his hair. Pert and ginger, black-tipped as advertised. “Oh, they're perfect.” His free hand slid up, gently brushing the fur as he stroked up his ear. “Very, ah, cool.”

Crowley chuckled lightly and tried not to shiver at the touch, though he couldn't stop the way his tail twitched. “That's, ah, the last thing I expected you to say.”

Aziraphale gently rubbed the back of one of his ears. “You're too-too, pet. Positively snap and quite the popsy-wopsy.”

He didn't mean to snort, but once he had he couldn't stop laughing. “That's- snk- A-angel, you-” He couldn't continue, head falling forward to laugh into Aziraphale’s broad shoulder.

Aziraphale smiled, taking the opportunity to nuzzle his ear. “I hope that's more in line with what you expected from me.”

“You know it is,” Crowley eventually managed to say, ears twitching from the tickle of Aziraphale's breath. “Is that something from one of your books?”

“Mm. Not word for word. When writing for a modern audience, it's as important to know period slang as it is to know to use it sparingly.” Aziraphale kissed his ear, low purrs rumbling in pleasure as he continued stroking Crowley’s ears. He wanted to enjoy every moment of their presence and was driven to reward Crowley for displaying them.

Without the act of laughing as a distraction it made a shiver go down Crowley’s spine. The touch was light, soft, almost a tease, and his tail thumped against Aziraphale’s leg. “A-angel, you- ngk- have to know what you're doing.”

He paused, hum soft. “Sensitive, are you?”

“Yesss,” Crowley said breathlessly, clinging to Aziraphale’s shoulders. “And it'ss been… a very long time ssince anyone'sss touched them.”

The sweet lisp and the aroused tint to his scent didn't make it easy to stop. Aziraphale wanted to nuzzle him more, maybe tug them a little. “Have you any idea how badly I want to get you on your knees right now? Pull your tail whilst stretching you wide with my knot? Pretty omega,” he purred, keeping his hands very still. “Tell me to stop, else you'll be very late.”

Crowley whined, he didn't want to tell him to stop and it was a fight to keep his tail from lifting and presenting. He wanted to give the alpha holding him anything. “S-ssstop,” he whispered instead.

It sent Aziraphale’s instincts into a scramble, the scent and the needy whine so entirely at odds with being told no. But that dissonance helped him latch onto more than the instinctive urge to push him down and take what would so clearly be freely given. His hands slid down Crowley’s back, holding onto his waist as he nuzzled their brows together. “Good. That's good, pet. Another time?”

“Yesss. Yess, of coursse.” As much as he wanted to give in and let Aziraphale take him in whichever way pleased him, there was another instinct that practically sang with how this alpha was proper mate material. He protected pups and could provide and was so good, but also, and more importantly, he listened. Even with his scent so laced with need and desire he'd still stopped when asked. “Next time. Next time you can have me, angel.”

Aziraphale quivered against him. “Then I look forward to next time. Is it too much to ask when you last…”

“Had sex?”

Aziraphale let out a surprised laugh. “Blunt thing, but yes.”

Crowley rolled his eyes, but grinned. “With a partner? It's… been a few years.”

“My dear, if I wanted to know the last time you did something to yourself, I would’ve asked very differently.” Aziraphale smiled and kissed the tip of Crowley’s nose when colour rushed into his cheeks. “It’s been some time for me, as well.”

“Then we're on an even playing field.”

“Equally eager.” Aziraphale squeezed his hips. “Though you should probably be leaving soon.”

“I should, yes, unless I want to hear Tracy make insinuations.” He pulled back and smirked as his hands came to rest on Aziraphale’s chest. “Though, you won’t have to ask when I last 'did something for myself' because I plan on wanking myself silly tonight. Pity you don't have a cellphone, I could have sent you pictures.”

Aziraphale’s scent flared with want. “That may be the single most compelling reason I’ve ever heard of for getting a mobile.”

Crowley’s smirk only grew. “Getting a cellphone just for dirty pictures, that would be very naughty of you.”

“How terribly naughty of my omega to suggest it in the first place, you terror.”

My omega. The wag of his tail picked up speed and his smirk softened into something fond. “Welcome to the twenty-first century, angel.”

“I will not go gentle into the good night.” The whip of his tail, feeling it beat against his legs, had Aziraphale’s smile warming as much as Crowley’s lack of objection to the label. “Could I make a… risqué request?”

“Phrasing it like that, I'd be disappointed if you didn’t.”

Aziraphale chuckled, reaching up to stroke Crowley’s ear again. “When you’re touching yourself later, will you bring these out? Because this is how I'll be picturing you when I’m seeing to myself.”

“I can do that for you, alpha,” Crowley murmured and tipped his head into Aziraphale’s hand with a shiver. He'd almost forgotten how good it felt when his ears and tail were touched.

“Thank you, my sweet omega,” Aziraphale purred. “You’re incredibly difficult to resist, and I want to spend an entire night treating you how you deserve.”

“You’ll get the chance.” That would definitely have to be a weekend like tonight and he could only imagine how giddy and insufferable Tracy would be, but that didn't stamp out any of the rising anticipation. He reached up to pull Aziraphale’s hand from the top of his head, let his fingers slide through his hair as he tugged it down until he could turn his head and kiss a soft palm.

Aziraphale cupped his cheek and guided him closer for a proper kiss, keeping it soft and easy despite every bit of his instincts screaming to make it deeper to encourage the omega in his lap to bend to more. But he was more stubborn than simple instinct, and he had decided to wait for a time where he could have him guilt-free. There was a pup to consider. “I’m very glad I decided to reverse your ban.”

“Me too,” Crowley murmured. “I was terribly curious how comfortable this couch was and I've been able to find out it's as nice as it looks.”

“You’re perched on my thighs more than you are the couch.”

“Would you rather I not be?”

“I put you here,” Aziraphale reminded him with a smug tilt to his smile. “You tell me.”

“You did, you did, and I stand by what I said. This couch-” Crowley kissed him, light and fleeting. “Is very comfortable. I wouldn't even mind spending more time on it if I didn’t need to go.”

“Yes, and I’d be happy to let you stay. But I don't believe that's wise.”

Crowley was reluctant to get up, Aziraphale was warm and all his instincts were insistent that he would make a good mate and that he shouldn't leave until he'd made sure this mate had made him his. But he had a scented gift, that would have to be enough. Crowley slipped out of Aziraphale's lap and to his feet, the kerchief in hand, stretching. “Walk me to the door like a gentleman?”

“I think you’d be disappointed if I stopped now.” Aziraphale watched his shirt lift with his stretch, and it took a genuine effort to rise instead of reaching out to drag him right back into his lap. “I’m looking forward to seeing you and Warlock again soon. You’ll let me know when you’re both home, safe and sound?”

“Of course I will. Honestly I wouldn't be surprised if you open Twitter and see he sent you a whole slew of messages while we were together.”

“Goodness.” Aziraphale chuckled, brushing his hands over his thighs. “I’ll have to check, then. Perhaps I will look into some sort of a mobile device if the pair of you are going to be sending me messages.”

Crowley shook his head fondly. “You don't have to do that just for us. I'm sure I've got just the same.” And when he pulled his phone out of his pocket, Crowley was unsurprised to find fifteen unread texts.

“That silly pup,” Aziraphale murmured, affection coating his tone. “You could’ve checked your phone, you know. I wouldn’t have been upset.”

“I figured, but still seemed rude to be focused on my phone instead of talking to my date.” Crowley smiled a little crookedly. “Besides, I'd bet money most of these are just memes.”

“The… pictures with humorous captions.”

“S-sort of, yes,” Crowley said, trying not to snicker. “A better explanation would be, like, internet jokes.”

“Ah,” he replied, clearly still not fully understanding but not quite willing to get into the specifics. “Well, I hope they amuse you. I’ll see you soon?”

“You will, yes,” Crowley murmured as they came to the front door. “Would it be alright if we came by on Monday?”

“Yes, I’d love to see you both.” Aziraphale stopped by the door and took one of Crowley’s hands in both of his. “Have a lovely day tomorrow, my dear.”

“You too. Goodnight, angel.” Crowley left him with a lingering kiss and a smile from the Bentley when he noticed him still watching from inside.

Charmed, Aziraphale sent him a cheerful wave and waited for him to drive off before scurrying off to discover that Warlock had indeed sent him several messages on twitter-dot-com. Most of them were… puzzling, but at least the boy seemed more amused than annoyed by Aziraphale’s questions and he did eventually understand that it was a type of absurdist humour.

He was also told when Crowley arrived, which settled a quiet worry. Silly, knowing that Crowley had likely gone to see Tracy dozens of times, but still something he would’ve worried about even without instincts demanding to know where his mate was. Silly things. Crowley wasn’t even his mate, not really. But his instincts weren’t ones for reason and neither, to his lack of surprise, was Tracy when she telephoned him immediately after Crowley and Warlock left for the night.

“What was Madame teasing you about?” Warlock wondered, the conversation with Aziraphale still open on his phone as he juggled that and his seat belt.

His cheeks were still somewhat pink from having been subjected to Tracy's lewd insinuations. Damn perceptive woman. “Things that are definitely none of her business.”

“Oh. You smell like Aziraphale.”

“I know.” It made him want to preen or go somewhere just to walk among people and show off the scent his alpha had left on him.

Warlock huffed, letting said alpha know that they were on their way home. “You’re a dork.”

“Aziraphale thinks I'm cool.”

“Is that why you have your ears and tail out? ‘Cause he said it was cool?” Though, admittedly, Warlock thought it was pretty cool to see his cousin like that. It happened so rarely, and never without him asking.

Crowley froze for a moment, having entirely forgotten he hadn't put them away. “He… asked to see them. Kinda forgot they were still out.”

“Oh.” Warlock hesitated, thumbs over his phone keyboard and gaze flicking between Crowley and the screen. “What’d he think about ‘em?”

“He-” Crowley paused, fingers tapping along the steering wheel. “He liked them. Why?”

“I dunno. You're usually all embarrassed about them. Are you, y'know, glad he likes 'em?”

“Yeah, course I am. You-you want the person you're with to like those things.”

“Okay.” He lowered his phone. “D'jou have fun?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “We had a great time. And Aziraphale said he wants to see more of you, too, so we'll be dropping by more often.”

Aziraphale had told him the same thing. That he was always welcome and that he and Crowley had had a “delightful evening.” “I like his shop. It's- It's cool. Do you think...” He stopped, quickly deciding not to ask that embarrassing question. “When? Like tomorrow?”

“Monday, actually. And we plan on going on another date soon.”

“Are you gonna have one where I can go too?”

Crowley chuckled lightly and nodded. “Yes, we will. I'm sure Aziraphale will insist on feeding both of us.”

Warlock nodded, looking back at his phone. “Maybe... we can go to a park or something.”

“That's not a bad idea. Is going to a park something you'd like to do?”

He shrugged. He just wanted to know if Aziraphale would play with him again. Or if that had just been a fluke or some kind of trick to make Crowley like him. And it would be easier to find out if they were somewhere outside, somewhere where transforming with pups wasn't as weird. “Maybe. Yeah.”

“Alright. I'll talk to Aziraphale about it, I'm sure he'll think it's a good idea too.” And St. James was fairly close to both of their residences.

“Okay.” He wondered if Crowley would transform too, but wasn't going to ask. He squirmed back into the seat, very aware of Aziraphale’s scent clinging to the fabric. Faint and fading, but still there. “I like talking to him.”

“That's good. If things keep going well between us, he'll be in our lives a lot more.” He didn't want to be too hopeful, but this felt like something that could be long term, something serious. He just needed to not screw it up.

“Like... Are we gonna invite him over? I bet he'd like all your plants.”

“You mean he'd probably spoil them,” Crowley muttered. “But, yes, I'd like to invite him over. Could do a movie and popcorn night… I wonder if he even knows what Netflix is.”

“I bet he only likes old movies. Like the lame black and white ones.”

“Dunno, he might, and if so we'll just have to modernize him- Oh! Right. So I might have convinced him to actually get a cellphone.”

“Seriously? How?”

Crowley grinned and definitely wasn't about to tell the pup about teasing Aziraphale with dirty pictures. “With my charms and dashing good looks, obviously.”

Warlock scoffed. “That's a lie.”

“It is not! I'm being entirely serious.”

“Maybe in your head. I'm gonna ask him.”

Crowley laughed and shook his head. “You do that.” He had full confidence that Aziraphale wouldn't tell him how the conversation actually went.

Warlock sent his question off and looked out the window as he waited for the response. The street- and headlights kept everything bright enough to see the other vehicles on the road, which he liked more than driving around during the day. “Tracy showed me her Tarot cards. She got a new deck.”

“Is that so?” Crowley wasn't sure where he stood on fortune telling and tarot, but it was a harmless hobby as far as he was concerned. “What was it this time?”

“It's, like, tea themed. She said she bought them for Aziraphale, but she tested them on me.” Warlock glanced at his phone when it buzzed, but it was just a game notification. “She thinks I've got some change in my future, but... Duh.” She'd also told him to stay open and patient, but that everything would turn out as it should.

“Well I don't have anything drastic planned and 'change' is pretty vague. Could be almost anything.”

Warlock slanted him a look. “You're dating a whole alpha.”

“As opposed to only dating half an alpha.” He laughed at the groan that earned him. “Really, though, me dating Aziraphale isn't going to change that much for us. It's nothing to worry about.”

Warlock wasn't so sure about that. It already had changed things. Nothing seemed worse at all, but there were still changes. “I guess...” When his phone finally buzzed again, he sat up straighter. “He said it's us, not just you. And that he may not get one, but he's willing to look into it.”

“I did say I might have convinced him. We will drag Aziraphale into this century yet.”

“Maybe. He already has a laptop.”

“I bet that was at the behest of his publisher.”

Warlock shrugged. They were making changes in Aziraphale's life too. He hoped that didn't mean he'd be annoyed or mad at them. “I had to tell him what some of the memes I sent meant.”

Crowley snickered, the silly, old-fashioned alpha. “And I had to explain what a meme even was. Not sure he really got it though.”

“I sent him a link to Know Your Meme, and he said he’d ‘educate himself.’” He shook his head, rubbing the side of his phone and peeking back over at Crowley. “He’s not… I mean, he’s not really, like, cool or anything, but- but he’s not dumb or anything. Y’think?”

“You're not gonna get an unbiased opinion from me, but I think Aziraphale is a very interesting person. He might not be… fashionable or 'cool' by modern standards, but that suits him and he's, more importantly, a good person.”

He didn’t mind a biassed opinion, not from his cousin. He also liked that it was similar to what Madame Tracy had said about him. That was two omegas who effectively thought he was safe and two opinions he trusted telling him he could trust Aziraphale. It was a confirmation to growing instincts. “What if we just skipped school and work and just hung out with him all day Monday?”

Of course he wanted to skip school and skipping out on work didn't sound like a bad idea, but there was still the knee-jerk reaction that he'd already taken up enough of Aziraphale's time. Aziraphale might have said he wanted them around, but things were still new and exciting and Crowley didn't want to burn through that feeling too quickly. “You've missed quite a bit of school already, pup. How about we both use getting to see someone we like as motivation to get through the day, hm?”

Warlock sighed gustily. “Okay, whatever.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm the kill-joy.”

He stuck his tongue out. “So was he mad that you were late? Did he say anything about your dumb shirt?”

“He liked my dumb shirt, thank you very much. And no, he wasn't mad. He was very patient about the whole thing, actually.”

It was another thing that made him different from the alphas Warlock was used to. “Really? He didn’t growl about it or anything?”

“Nope. He was very understanding.” More so than Crowley had expected. It was such a rare trait, something to be cherished. He'd have to be more careful about showing up on time, he didn't want to take advantage of that patience.

“Are you… Are you sure he’s a real alpha?” Warlock asked, tapping out a message to Aziraphale. “He never gets mad about anything.”

“Trust me, he's definitely a real alpha.” The scent was real, as was his reaction to it. There was no faking that and his instincts agreed. Aziraphale was an alpha and the perfect mate.

“Okay.” The car pulled to a stop, the two piling out of the car. Warlock tried to hide a yawn as they made their way to the door. “How come he’s so nice then?”

Crowley frowned and thought about how to answer that as they slipped into the flat building lobby. It didn't seem like his place to share the intimate details of Aziraphale's upbringing. “Well, I would assume it's because he grew up in an environment that didn't reward aggression.”

“‘Cause he had two moms?”

“Because of his two mums, I'm sure. He talks about them very fondly.”

Warlock stepped into the elevator with him and shuffled close without actually leaning against him. “I know. They’re near my parents.”

Well, that explained it. Crowley placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Maybe we could all take a visit together sometime.”

“That’d be okay. I guess. If he wants.” Warlock leaned in after all. “He said he likes to go when he’s sad and when he’s happy about something ‘cause he wants to share good news just as much as anything else.”

Crowley wondered if Aziraphale considered their relationship something he would want to share. “That makes sense. Just like if they were still here, he just wants to share things with them.”

“If your parents were closer, would you do that?”

“I- I don't think so. I wasn't very close with mine and they've been gone a long time now.”

For a pup dealing with very conflicting emotions regarding each of his parents, that made sense to Warlock. He could see himself sharing good news with his mom and not caring if his dad was listening or not. “I’d visit you. You’re a good dad,” he mumbled, quickly scurrying out of the elevator when the doors opened.

Crowley froze and watched his quickly retreating back. He was a good dad. Warlock thought he was a good dad. He sniffed and was glad he'd put his glasses back on so no one in the empty hall could see him blinking wet eyes. It only took him a moment to follow after him, wrapping an arm around Warlock's shoulders. “Let's get you into bed, pup. Couldn't hide that yawn from me.”

“But it’s Saturday,” he complained. “I should get to stay up as late as I want.”

“Oh, to be young again,” Crowley sighed. “It's almost ten, I'm going to bed, but if you want to stay up I won't stop you.”

Warlock huffed. It wasn’t as much fun to stay up alone. But he leaned into him, pouting more because he was tired and didn’t want to be than because he had to go to bed. He liked the weight of the arm across his shoulders, liked more that it didn’t vanish when they stopped at the door for Crowley to unlock it. “What’re we gonna do tomorrow?”

“Welll- I need to make a scent pouch for Aziraphale, so we'll be out picking up what I need for that.”

“A scent pouch?” Warlock looked up, eyes wide. “Seriously?”

Crowley laughed as he opened the door and ushered them both inside. “Yes, seriously. Aziraphale gave me a scented gift, it's only fair.”

“What'd he give you? A whole pouch?”

“Nah, he's more old-fashioned about it.” He pulled the kerchief out of his shirt pocket to show him. “See?”

Warlock knew better than to touch it, but he did huff in a very obvious attempt to catch Aziraphale’s scent. “That looks like his bow tie.”

“It does, doesn't it?” He wondered if the pattern had any special meaning or if it was just one Aziraphale liked. Crowley ran his thumb over the soft cotton and slipped it back into his pocket instead of bringing it to his nose like he wanted to do. “But I didn't really have anything to give him back and the pouches hold the scent better than plain old fabric.”

“Yeah. I bet he'll like one. Are you gonna give it to him Monday?”

“I'd like to, if I can finish making it tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Warlock yawned again. “Are you going to bed?”

“Yes, I am. And you should be too.”

Warlock huffed. “Okay,” he grumbled. “G'night.”

“Goodnight, pup.” Crowley ruffled his long hair and, despite Warlock's vocal protest, kissed the top of his head.

The grumbling and complaining lasted until Crowley heard his door click shut and he knew it was mostly for show. Thad had never been one for affection and Harriet had always been so busy… He wasn't used to it, but was coming around slowly.

Crowley went around doing his nightly locking up: shoes in their rack by the front door, keys hung on their hook in the kitchen, lights out, doors and windows locked up tight. Even being on the third floor, he still got paranoid about break-ins. And he really really didn't want something like that happening tonight of all nights.

Once everything felt sufficiently taken care of he slipped into his own room, shutting the door and locking it for good measure. Being interrupted was not on the menu tonight. He stripped methodically, Aziraphale’s kerchief slipped from his shirt pocket as he hung it up in the front part of his closet. His… partner liked it, he'd wear it again sometime.

Clothes were shoved off his bed with little concern over how they fell - he would clean up tomorrow - and trousers and pants were similarly tossed. The itch under his skin had been there since this morning and only made worse by the kissing and having his ears stroked.

They twitched, as did his tail, as he fell into his nest, kerchief scented with bourbon and chocolate pressed to his nose. Having Aziraphale's scent here in his nest felt like something slotting into place. Something had been missing and now he had at least a little bit of what.

Crowley groaned into the soft cotton, free hand sliding down his chest, and wished he hadn't left the shop. The kerchief smelled like Aziraphale, like alpha, but it couldn't ever be the real thing. It wasn't a soft, plump, manicured hand scratching down his sternum, but that didn't stop his cock from being half hard. He could imagine, at least, that it was his alpha’s hand that trailed down his stomach. Feather light and making the muscles there twitch. Aziraphale would probably touch him lightly, carefully, like he had his ears. A touch that wanted to give just as much as it took.

His own hand wrapping around the base of his cock was familiar, but Crowley had always prided himself on his fantastic imagination and he could still remember how steady and sure Aziraphale’s hands had been on his waist. Holding him in place or moving him how he wanted. The alpha scent in his nose helped him think of Aziraphale instead of his own hand teasing himself to full hardness.

The empty feeling ruined it somewhat. He had toys that could meet that need in their own way, but it just wasn't the same. There was no warm body, or shared breath, and it wasn't Aziraphale. No toy or hunk of silicone was the same as being pressed into the mattress by his alpha, fucked open and filled in a way his instincts craved.

Crowley huffed with each tug of his cock, his tail wanted to lift, to present and tell his mate he wanted them, but couldn't with how he was laying on his back. He spread his feet, whimper soft with the feel of slick as it dribbled into his fur. He wanted Aziraphale to be here, wanted him to see how much he wanted him. Wanted his alpha to know.

He growled lightly, kerchief dropped beside his head as he fumbled for his phone. His alpha needed to see, even if he wasn't here. Opening the camera was a bit of an ordeal with how his hands were shaking, but he managed. Camera front-facing and timer set, Crowley sat up just enough to position the phone at his feet, just high enough to catch all of him. He leaned back as the timer counted down from three, eyes half-lidded and arousal swimming just under the surface.

He knew it was a lewd picture he made, eager and wanting and hopefully something Aziraphale would like. His fingers shook more when he snatched the phone back up, working quickly over his cock as he opened Twitter. Aziraphale was likely asleep by now but sending that picture felt like relief and he hoped Aziraphale would enjoy looking at it as much as he enjoyed taking it.

[image attached]

For you, alpha.

Chapter Text

Sunday morning dawned quiet and peaceful. Aziraphale watched the sunrise from his roof, a cup of tea warming his palms in the chilly Autumn morning. It wasn't as nice as having a person to hold onto, but it'd been many years since he'd had that opportunity.

Part of him could hardly believe he'd given Crowley a scented gift, something to keep him close. It was far from his only kerchief, but it was one of only three he had with his family tartan. Heaven's Dress had been part of his family for generations, and he never would've handed it over had he been in his right mind.

But had he been in his right mind since meeting Crowley?

Aziraphale sipped his tea and decided not to answer that question. The point was that, while he wouldn't have normally handed his tartan over, he didn't regret it. He adored the idea that this particular omega had a piece of his family colours on his person, if he carried it at all. Aziraphale chose to believe - or at least told himself to try believing - that Crowley was indeed holding onto it. Maybe he'd even ask for it to be refreshed soon.

It was a nice thought, warming him as thoroughly as the tea. Most thoughts of Crowley kept him warm, particularly thoughts of him on the couch the night before. But even thinking about him across the table, cheeks coloured as he explained the silly reason for his lateness. Precious thing. That he would fret over his clothes when he knew what Aziraphale himself wore. Beiges, perhaps the occasional splash of pale colour, and tartan. He preferred simple, neat lines, but wasn't above being a touch rumpled.

Comfortable, someone had called him once, only to later claim he was comfortable like an old, worn couch that needed throwing out.

Something about Crowley made him feel comfortable in a needed way. Soft enough to be a safe place for him to land after a hectic day of parenting and working in an environment that simply wasn't as welcoming to omegas as it ought to be. But maybe he could also be a firm enough place to ground that anxiety, strong enough to withstand being clung to.

Oh, how he wanted Crowley to cling. He wanted every story, every insecurity, every fear and worry right alongside every joy. He wanted the good with the bad, but wasn't it too fast? They'd hardly done more than chitchat on the computer with only a few meetings. Too few, in Aziraphale's opinion, but they'd get there. He'd see him and Warlock the following afternoon and, hopefully, Crowley would grow to understand just how much Aziraphale craved his and the pup's company as time went.

When the sun was high in the sky and his tea gone, Aziraphale made his way back into the building and down the stairs. He rinsed the mug and tucked it away, taking his time with the mismatched china.

There wasn't much, really, that he had to do with himself. He could call Tracy. Perhaps ask the young Ms. Anathema if she wanted to come look through his collections. He could stroll through Soho, poke his head into the places owned by people who knew him as a staple of town and someone always willing to help. Or he could go for a walk in the St. James Park and pretend he wasn't hoping for Crowley and Warlock to stumble across him.

Or he could write, fingers itching to put some of his fantasies to the page. There was little reason pretending this latest book hadn't gone wildly off the original outline. A frustration for his agent, but Aziraphale had to write what he felt. And what he'd felt the night before - trousers open, Crowley’s scent in the couch cushions and blanket around him - needed to be written.

He was already humming as he searched his records for something light and bouncy, Mozart finding its way onto his antique gramophone. He continued to hum as he strolled to his laptop, tucked at a nearby desk. It opened to twitter-dot-com, his messages to Warlock left open.

Aziraphale had to wonder just what the boy and his guardian had been discussing the night before to lead to some of the questions he'd been asked.

“Are you really thinking about getting a cellphone? And why/why not?? Why aren't you ever mad about things? Were your moms weirdly nice too? What's your favorite color? Do you like us both a whole lot or just Crowley?”

He'd tried to answer each one thoroughly and honestly, as the pup didn't deserve anything less, but it had been difficult to put everything into words. And the first two had needed some... looser truths.

Considering it because of them both. He did get angry on occasion, but it rarely lead to anything satisfying. He didn't have one, but he enjoyed blue... and gold. And, yes, he liked them both. He liked them both very much.

Aziraphale hummed along with his music, smile and hope bright that the “1” attached to the envelope-shape was from Crowley as he clicked on it.

And then he was very grateful that he'd already put his teacup away. He would've dropped it in an instant. His jaw certainly fell, heart stopping at the image he was presented with. His beautiful omega, fully on display for him. Parted legs, slender cock pink and stiff against his belly, slick glistening as it dripped onto an already damp tail.

Aziraphale’s trousers felt too tight, and he had to shift in his seat. He wanted to bury his mouth there, taste and smell the heady sweetness. He wanted to hear the moans and sighs and pleas that would spill from him. The hisses.

You stunning tempter, he sent back, a hand slipping down to undo his trousers. He couldn't stand it, cock filling just at the sight of him. Had I a way to reciprocate, I would.

When he caught sight of the kerchief on Crowley’s pillow after eventually tearing his gaze away from the center of the photograph, Aziraphale fumbled for his phone and dialed one handed. The sweet, wicked creature should at least get something in return. He just hoped Crowley was awake.

Except it was his phone vibrating that woke Crowley up. He groaned and nuzzled into his bourbon and chocolate smelling pillow as he fumbled at his nightstand. It was a weekend. No one should be up this early on a weekend. His eyes were still too blurry with sleep to see the screen and he grunted inarticulately into the phone once his thumb regained enough mobility to answer the call.

It gave Aziraphale enough pause to second guess himself. “Crowley?”

Crowley blinked and pulled the phone away from his face enough to squint at the screen. “'Ngel?”

“Are you only just waking up?” The idea of which didn't dampen his arousal in the slightest, the idea that Crowley was still in bed - still in the place where he'd taken this photograph - a staggering one.

“Mmhmm,” Crowley mumbled and snuggled right back into his pillows. Now he had alpha scent and alpha voice. “Call woke me up.”

“Oh, goodness,” he mumbled, shifting in his seat again. Pretty omega, all soft and warm from sleep. He'd probably open so easily, let Aziraphale slide inside and bring them both to a lazy peak. The sound he accidentally made was pure arousal.

Crowley frowned a little, instinctively shivering at the sound and how breathless Aziraphale sounded. “'Ngel? Ever'thing alright?”

“Y-yes, of course. I- Good Lord, I should- I don't believe I should've done this. That, ah, photograph of yours...” He wanted to move his hand, to whine and demand, but it seemed wrong without Crowley’s knowledge. “Terribly sorry, my dear.”

“Oh… Oh.” Crowley shot up, blankets and comforter pooling around his waist. The picture. He'd sent a picture and it suddenly clicked into place. “Oh my god, you're wanking right now aren't you?”

“No. Or, rather, not technically.”

“You are,” he gasped, grinning from ear to ear. “You liked it, then?”

There was no reason to deny it. “Of course. Yes. You're beautiful, pet.”

Crowley groaned and fell back into his nest. “Good. Good, I hoped you would, alpha.” That he liked it enough to- “Are you still touching yourself?”

He swallowed, the sound of his groan making his ears perk. “Holding. Just, ah... I wanted- I can't send you a picture in return, so I suppose I had some idea of...”

“Wanting to show your appreciation?”

“I certainly do appreciate it. It was quite a surprise. I still have it open,” he admitted.

“You should keep going, then,” Crowley said with a low purr and settled more deeply into his blankets. “Enjoy the gift I gave you.”

Aziraphale let out a ragged breath as he leaned back in his chair, phone still at his ear. The permission swirled through him, perking his arousal right back up. “Is this what you wanted when you sent it? To send me into-” He made a low sound, fist sliding up and carefully squeezing his cock. “Into, ah, a tizzy?”

Crowley chuckled and slid the hand not holding his phone beneath his sheets. He might have brought himself off last night, but it hadn't been nearly what he wanted. “Wanted you to see how much I want you,” he murmured and nuzzled the kerchief he'd fallen asleep on. “Wanted you to know what you were doing to me.”

“Oh, pet, I have no doubt that you do.” Aziraphale opened the picture to make it bigger, biting his lip and wishing the warmth surrounding him was Crowley’s tight channel. “You're so wet in the photograph. So lovely, but so very empty.” Aziraphale purred it for him, the sound so close to a growl and coated in his desire. “I'd love to fill you. To taste you first if you'd like it, coat my tongue with your sweetness.”

“Ffffuck,” Crowley whispered into the phone, palming himself under the sheets. He was still mostly soft, but that was quickly changing. “Ask me with that growl in your voice and I'll let you do bloody anything.”

“Will you? Lovely omega.” Aziraphale moved his hand a little faster, thumb rubbing over the head of his cock to begin spreading the beaded come. “Would you let me bend you over the bonnet of your car? Would you spread your legs and present for me? Lift your pretty tail or make me tug it out of the way - I'd be happy with either so long as I could fill you.”

The mental image made him moan. Bent over the Bentley, maybe after, or during, working on it. He'd still be covered in grease and oil, but his alpha wouldn't care. Wanted badly enough to not even have the time to wash up. “Yesss,” he hissed, squeezing himself to hardness. “I'd present for you. Wanted to- mm- last night. In your lap. Want to now.”

“Are you touching yourself now? Wanting it to be me? My omega,” he growled, his own hips lifting and groan spilling out. “Are you wet for me, pretty pet? Aching to take my knot?”

“God, yesss.” He clenched around nothing, dribbling slick onto his tail, and whined at the lack of a cock to fill him up. A distraction from it was needed and Crowley left the phone leaning against his face to reach up and tug at an ear. “Can't just wank on the- ah- phone with me and e-expect me not to.”

“Mm. Good boy,” he purred. “Are your ears and tail out? Are you touching them too, sensitive thing?”

Crowley hissed and his tail thumped under the sheets. He was good, his alpha said he was good. “Yess, alpha, I am. Forgot to put 'em away. Need-needed a distraction from- ah- not having you here.”

“Pretend I am. I do like to watch on occasion, and I know you would perform beautifully. Listening to you alone is a marvel. Those hisses, your whines.” Aziraphale had to grip just above his swelling knot to keep from letting go too soon. “I touched myself on the couch last night,” he admitted, listening to Crowley’s keening noises over the line. “It smelled just enough like you. It made me want to pull you into my nest, let you dampen my sheets with your scent. Your sweat, your slick. I'm going to have you on your knees, I think. Lick you until you're the only thing I can taste for days. Then mount you properly. Mate what's mine.”

“Oh, god, you're gonna make me comeallovermyself,” he said fast, voice going high at the end as he tugged hard on his ear and twisted a hand around the sensitive head of his cock. It was exactly what he wanted, to be taken in his alpha’s nest, making it smell like him just as his smelled of Aziraphale. Mated and claimed. Wanted. “Pleassse, alpha, yourss. Pleassse.”

“That's it. Just like that. Come for me. Make yourself a mess for me.” He glanced at the picture again, bit his lip. “Then send me a snapshot of the results? I want to see you, Crowley. My good omega.”

His whine was high and needy, back arching as he worked furiously over his cock. He could be good, could be a good omega for his alpha. “A-angel, I'm- I-” Crowley had to bite his lip to keep his cry from being too loud as he clenched hard around nothing and coated his stomach in wet spurts.

Aziraphale moaned, quickly stroking himself to the sounds of Crowley’s release. “Good. Good boy. Such a w-wonderful omega.” His jaw ached, fangs poking his own lower lip as his head fell back. “Beautiful creature. Ah... Oh, Crowley...”

“Keep-keep going, angel,” he murmured into the phone, remembering Aziraphale’s request and quickly kicking the blankets down to his knees. “Wanna hear you.” When he pulled the phone away from his ear he could still hear Aziraphale’s soft noises. This photo wouldn't be as artful as the last, but he thought his belly covered in his own spend and tail just visible between his knees would be something Aziraphale would like to see.

And Crowley knew the moment Aziraphale got the picture, the alpha gasping the moment it came through. “Crowley,” he whined. “You absolute treasure.” He hiked up his own shirt, panting as he twisted his wrist just so. At an encouraging, pleased sound from Crowley, Aziraphale’s knot swelled and his seed spilled over his stomach and hand. He didn't quite howl, the sound he made something between that and a growl through his teeth. He ached to sink them into soft flesh, but it didn't hinder his release.

The sound of it made Crowley groan and clench anew, wishing the knot he knew had swelled was in his arse instead of Aziraphale's hand. He nuzzled into the kerchief at his cheek to stir up the alpha scent, a pale imitation of the actual alpha panting in his ear. “Good morning to you, too.”

Aziraphale huffed out a partial laugh, breathless and pleased. “Yes, well... I was having quite a calm morning before I turned on my computer.”

Crowley chuckled, feeling terribly self-satisfied over the reaction he'd caused. “And seeing me made you so hot and bothered you just had to phone me up.”

“One should always say 'thank you' when given a gift, particularly one that will be as treasured as this.”

Treasured. It made his heart do silly flippy things to think his dirty pictures would be something treasured. “'S just pictures,” he mumbled into the phone, but couldn't stop how he purred anyway.

“Ones sent only to me. So thank you, pet. I'll be saving them shortly.”

Crowley huffed a soft laugh. Aziraphale was probably the only person he'd never have to worry about sharing them, he wouldn't even know where to go for that. “Gonna look at them again later?”

“There's a high chance of that, yes.” Aziraphale smiled to himself, adjusting his phone with a small hum. “It does give me a bit of an advantage, though. I know what you'll look like when we have time to be together.”

“That's not a problem, is it?”

“Not in the slightest. Unless it is one for you?”

“I wouldn't have sent them if it was.”

“Good. So you had a good night after you left?”

“You saw how good of a night I had.” He rubbed his cheek into Aziraphale’s gift. “Your kerchief is still here, with me. Fell asleep on it.”

“You darling creature,” Aziraphale purred. “I'll refresh it for you tomorrow. You and Warlock are still planning to visit, yes?”

“Yeah, course we are. He's looking forward to it. Even asked if we could both play hooky and spend the whole day with you.”

“Mm. Perhaps during one of his school holidays, we can spend a few days together. Or a weekend. We could go out to the country and let Warlock have some wolf time.” Pretend to be a family, which Aziraphale was not going to admit. Not with his skin splattered with release and his knot tender and swollen. “Whatever works best for you, pet.”

“No, no, I like that. Things were so hectic we haven't had a chance to take a holiday yet.” And he had plenty of time saved up at work. Their Autumn break might work; it was enough ahead of time that the terror twins couldn't object. “And giving him wolf time's a good idea. He needs to get more used to it, but says being the only one is boring.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Well, I don't have any objection to playing with him whilst transformed. I do have a meeting with my agent in...” He grunted as he leaned forward, the move putting pressure on his knot, but he picked up his calendar and flipped through it. “Two weeks, but those don't typically last for very long. It's that Sunday.”

“Alright. Nearest school holiday is at the end of October, twentieth or twenty-first I think. Don't have it on me to check right now.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “You don't have much on you at all, in fact.”

“No, no I don't,” Crowley chuckled along with him. “Bet you're still all buttoned up, though. Are your trousers even off?”

“They're unbuttoned. I sat down to work, you distracting wonder.”

“That's me, big ol' distraction. Wait…” He pulled his phone away just far enough to glance at the time. “You set your own hours and choose to work at eight in the bloody morning?”

“I've been awake for nearly three hours, actually.”

“Oh my god, you're a morning person. I should have known.”

Aziraphale laughed. “And you're not, clearly. Really, I don't tend to sleep much at all without good reason.”

“That's ridiculous. Sleep is like… the best thing that's ever been invented. How do you live?”

“Well... I read, I write, I watch the sunrise, go for walks, and avoid selling as much as possible.” He shrugged even though Crowley couldn't see him. “I sleep enough to facilitate that, and am usually up to see the sunrise.”

It sounded like a retiree's wet dream. Easy, comfortable, idyllic. Perfect. “Let me guess: you sit and watch the sunrise with your morning tea.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Of course.”

“That is adorable.”

“Is it?” Aziraphale had been thinking about it as more lonely than anything else. “Most would say dull.”

“Sounds more peaceful to me.” Though he could easily imagine Warlock calling it dull. Or dumb, maybe. “So long as you enjoy it, that's what matters, really.”

“I do. Though I spent it thinking about you this morning.”

“Did you?” Crowley murmured, unable to keep the smile out of his voice. “Already thinking about me before you even knew I'd sent you anything.”

“Yes, well, you've become... important to me in a short amount of time. It's difficult not to think about you.”

“I'm not… taking away from your writing, am I?”

“Oh, no. Very much the opposite.” Aziraphale shook his head. “Don't fret, Crowley. You haven't made anything in my life worse.”

“Oh, well, good. Wouldn't want to be the reason your book is late.”

Aziraphale hummed. “I wouldn't say late, but my original plans have been adjusted. That's what my meeting is over. We're adjusting a few things in my timeline.”

“Oh? Anything you can tell me about without angering the publisher gods?”

“Not exactly. If things keep going as they are, however, I may need your permission to use your likeness. The character you inspired has, ah, taken over.”

Crowley blinked a handful of times at his grey ceiling. “You… put me in your book?”

Aziraphale paused. “I, ah... Yes. I thought you knew that.”

“Uh…” He blinked a few more times, thinking back because they had discussed his book as much as Aziraphale would accidentally let slip, and slowly grinned. “So you really didn't kill me off with Hastur and Ligur.”

Aziraphale huffed. “No, I didn't. I didn't before I met Warlock, for that matter. You... intrigued me before you managed to upset me.”

“Oh, angel, couldn't bear to kill off the handsome omega?” he teased. “I'm flattered.”

“We'll see if you're still flattered when you read this. If- Well. Would it be easier for you if I provided a recording? I don't want to cause your eyes harm.”

“You… Oh my god, you didn't actually believe Warlock and I when he said I didn't read, did you?”

“Not until you showed me your eyes. I assumed then that you preferred audiobooks.”

He laughed. “So, for the record, I have very little trouble reading. Long periods of time doing it can give me a migraine, but I can actually read.”

“Oh! Well. Alright then. The point still stands, however. I may need your blessing on this if it continues.”

“I've got no problem with you putting me in your book, just gives me even more reason to keep reading them.”

Aziraphale’s brows lifted. “...Keep reading them?”

“Er, yeah. I, ah, started reading the first one.” He blushed a bit and chuckled. “I'm a slow reader though, so it's going to take me a while. I've only finished chapter one.”

“Gosh. And, ah, are you- That is to say... Well. Have you- Did you enjoy it?”

“I did, yeah. I'm already terribly curious how Roland is going to solve the murder.”

Aziraphale smiled, wiggling in his seat. “So glad to hear it. I won't spoil it for you, but the offer to read to you still stands. Even if you don't need it.”

“Wait wait wait. Do you mean you reading it? Out loud?”

“Of course, pet. All of my audiobooks are read by me, so I'm quite used to it.”

“O-oh. Well I'd never turn that down. You could read me the bloody dictionary and I'd listen to every word.”

“You're only saying that because we were intimate over the telephone,” he teased, chuckling.

“I am not!” Crowley laughed. “I like the sound of your voice. Which, yes, helped things along, but I liked it even before the phone sex.”

“Alright. I suppose I can believe that for now. Feel free to keep reading at your pace, my dear, and I’ll read to you when there’s an opportunity.”

“I'd like that.” He couldn't imagine they'd get much of an opportunity to do so, but laying on Aziraphale’s sofa and just letting his voice wash over him sounded like heaven. “Might accidentally fall asleep. Not because I'm bored or anything! Your voice is just… it's relaxing.”

“Mm. I’ve had several people tell me they use my audiobooks for something called ASMR. Have you ever heard of it? Apparently it helps them sleep, so I don’t take offense to it.”

“Oh, yes, that's exactly it. Hell, you could probably just sell your voice for that sort of thing if you wanted to.”

“That’s alright. I’m content selling it as part of my books. I’ve read a few others, as well. Alphas don’t tend to read novels in the romance genre, of course, but my agent asked if I would do a few written by authors who are involved in the same publishing company.”

“Aw, that was nice of you.” And he'd have to look up those other books, maybe even get the audiobooks just to be able to hear Aziraphale’s voice whenever he wanted without being a bother. “You know, I don't really get the whole splitting us on genre thing. I mean, I do, but I usually go for more action-y stuff, myself. Like, uh, Bond and whatnot.”

Aziraphale laughed, adjusting as his knot finally went down enough that he could tuck himself back into his trousers. “How utterly unsurprising that you enjoy James Bond. But I do agree. Anyone can like anything. That’s the beauty of it.”

“I figured you might, since you don't exactly fit the usual alpha stereotype.”

“Why on Earth would I want to be a terrible bully?” He clucked his tongue. “As I told Warlock last night, I don’t get angry about small inconveniences because there are so many better things to feel.”

“He asked you about that, did he?” Crowley murmured and lifted the tartan kerchief to press to his nose.

“Oh, he peppers me with dozens of questions. He’s a very curious pup.”

“I think it's more one part curiosity and one part anxiety. He hides his worries behind questions, or at least that's what his therapist says.”

“Well, I’m happy to continue soothing those anxieties. He’s a good pup, Crowley, and you’re doing a very good job raising him from what I’ve seen.”

“Heh, thanks. I'm not going to say it's easy, ‘cause it's not.” Crowley sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I just wanna do right by him.”

Aziraphale smiled a little wickedly. “Good boy,” he purred.

“Oi, you!” Crowley said, flushing hot. “You can't just say things like that!”

“On the contrary, I think I should say things like that.”

“You, Aziraphale Fell, are an awful man.”

“If I believed you meant that, it would hurt.” Aziraphale chuckled. “It is good of you, though. My instincts keep telling me it makes you excellent mate material.”

He took in a sharp breath without meaning to, suddenly feeling too warm for how little he was covered. “T-they do? Er, I mean, really?”

“Well… yes. Your loveliness isn’t merely external. You’re raising him to be so much more open-minded than most, you’re protective, and you’re very strong. Determined. Of course you’d make a wonderful mate.”

It was so much, too much, even. Crowley rolled to his side with a soft whine, tail thumping hard against the bed. “Can't just say that,” he said around the lump in his throat, “And not be here for me to kiss the daylights out of.”

“I know, pet. Though I only say it because it’s true. You’re welcome to come by today if you have time, but I do look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

Crowley huffed a soft laugh and cleared his throat. “As much as I'd love to drop in today, I'm afraid I'm going to be very busy making something for you.”

Aziraphale’s ears perked. “Oh?”

“Mmhmm, think you can wait till then?”

“Considering that you’ve already given me two gifts, of course. I’m falling behind.”

“Two…” He blinked, confused for a moment before snorting. “Don't be silly, dirty pictures don't count as gifts.”

“These certainly do. They’re just extremely private ones.”

Crowley shook his head, heart feeling too full for his chest. “And you call me a wonder.”

“Because you are one. I have them saved now if you’d like to erase them from the internet. I haven’t been… what is the word? Chopped?”

It took him a moment to parse out what Aziraphale was trying to say. “Oh! Hacked! You mean hacked, angel. And, yes, I will delete them. More because I don't want Warlock accidentally coming across them when he takes my phone.”

“Hacked,” he repeated quietly, resolving to commit that to memory. “I haven’t been hacked, but I do understand that’s always a possibility. Though I hadn’t considered the possibility that Warlock might see them. That seems worse than strangers seeing them, somehow.”

“Urg, yeah. I would like neither, thank you.” He quickly did so, making sure both pictures had been deleted from their Twitter messages and his phone. “Though it depends, usually if strangers are seeing your nudes it's because someone shared them on purpose.”

“Why would anyone do that?” Aziraphale wondered, sounding genuinely baffled. “I wouldn’t want anyone else to see you like this but me.”

“You really are an angel,” Crowley murmured. “And I can tell you why someone would do that, but you wouldn't like it.”

“I don’t like the idea at all, in fact. That’s such an… an infuriating betrayal of trust.”

“It is, yeah, but I know I don't have to worry about that with you. I'd bet anything you don't even know where to go on the internet to post sexy pictures.”

“The pornography hub.”

Crowley threw his head back and laughed. “Name one porn site. Just one.”

Aziraphale pursed his lips. “I thought the pornography hub was one.”

“Oh my god. Do you mean Pornhub?”

“Ah… Yes?”

“Oh, angel, never change.”

“I shan’t, and I do consider that to be an accurate response.”

“Okay, okay. You know Pornhub, but that's like… the low hanging fruit of low hanging fruit. And I still feel entirely comfortable with you saving my pictures.”

“Good. I do promise not to share them.”

“Thank you, angel, though I never had any worry that you would.”

“It’s still important that you know.”

“I do know. God, you're just so… good. I'd ask how it's possible no one's snatched you up yet, but I get the feeling that'd be terribly insensitive.”

Aziraphale shook his head. “That’s… I don’t think it’s insensitive. I, ah… I suppose people just find me… Well, I’m really quite dull. A bit set in my ways. Stubborn.” He huffed something akin to a laugh. “By the time relationships end, it’s usually laid out quite plainly why I haven’t been snatched up.”

“Wha-” Crowley found himself at a loss for words for a moment, mouth working soundlessly. How could anyone say Aziraphale was dull? “They must have been idiots then, not seeing what an amazing alpha they were letting go of.”

“That’s very sweet of you.” But it was early yet. “But I should let you go, my dear. You and I both need to clean off, and you have a pup to take care of.”

“Yeah, suppose so, though if Warlock is awake this early in the morning I'd be surprised.” Crowley rolled onto his back and winced at the dried come on his stomach. “But you're right, I do need a shower.”

“As do I, and then I need to get to work.” Aziraphale’s smile returned. “I’ll have to remember you’re not a morning person when I want to call you again.”

“I don't mind,” he said quickly. “Really. Best wake up call I could've asked for.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “To be honest, pet, I would’ve rather you been here.”

“Me too… Fuck, I might have to rub one out in the shower just to think straight today.” Being an omega, orgasms were just never as satisfying unless he had something to fill him up.

Aziraphale hummed. “Do you have something to plug yourself with?”

“Yeah, course I do, but I doubt you wanna hear about my toy collection.”

“You’d be very wrong about that, my sweet omega, but I think we’ll save that for another time. What I was going to suggest is that you enjoy yourself as thoroughly as can be if you’re already going to be… busy.”

Crowley gave a low chuckle. “I might. Would have last night, but… wanted it to be you.”

“Oh, you are very sweet,” Aziraphale purred, pleased with him. “Use one of your toys for me. I won’t ask for another photograph, but I do want to know you’re taken care of as much as can be. Alright?”

“Yeah, alright. If that's what my alpha wants.”

“See? You’re a very good boy, pet.”

Crowley let out a rough breath and sat up to finally make his way out of bed. “And you are gonna drive me nuts with that.”

“Oh, now that I know how well it works on you, without a doubt. I’m looking forward to leaning over you whilst in my nest and whispering it in your ear as I fill you.”

“Fuck,” Crowley muttered under his breath, almost tripping over his own feet as he padded into his bathroom. “How in the hell are you this good at the dirty talk?”

“Part of it, frankly, is because most wouldn’t expect it of me. But I like words, Crowley, for the power behind them.” Besides, there was something intoxicating about Crowley’s reactions. “Are you in your washroom? You sound different.”

“How very perceptive of you. Yes, I am. I wasn't exactly expecting to come all over myself first thing in the morning so I didn't have anything on hand to clean up with and I wouldn't say I'm a fan of being covered in my own drying spunk.”

“Nor am I, but it was certainly worthwhile.” Aziraphale tucked the phone against his shoulder so he could begin unbuttoning his waistcoat and shirt. “I’ll shower myself once the call ends.”

“Which will be fairly soon, unless you're interested in hearing running water and me groaning.”

“No, I’m not sure I could handle hearing you from a distance twice in one day. Do you have your toy?”

“I'm getting it,” Crowley said with a laugh. “I keep 'em in a drawer in here so the pup doesn't stumble across something he doesn't need to see.”

“Ah. Clever thing. Make sure it's a big one. I do want you to be ready for me.”

Crowley shivered and dug through the drawer under the sink, shoving aside dildos and plugs and various sizes and colours. “Big, are you?”

“Mm. You'll see. Perhaps you'll allow me to borrow your phone if you can't wait for us to have a night alone.”

“Do you even know how to take a picture with a phone, or would you need me to give you a tutorial?” He teased, making a pleased sound when he found the toy he wanted; a light blue number that, while not the largest in his collection, had a bulb near the base that was advertised as being like a knot. It wasn't nearly as satisfying as the real thing, but was as close one could get without getting too fancy.

“I would hope you would open the correct program for me so that all I need to do is press a button.” Aziraphale smiled, wondering what the toy looked like based on that little sound but content to leave it a curiosity. “I've seen many people take photographs with mobile telephones. Usually when they're taking a... a selfie with me.”

“At least you know what a selfie is.”

“Yes. I did ask once why it wasn't called a 'groupie' when there were several people in the photograph once and the young ladies laughed and assumed I was joking, but I am genuinely curious.”

Crowley leaned over the sink counter and wheezed. “That's- Snk- Angel, you can't- you can't tell me you don't know what a groupie is.”

“I know what it isn't, clearly.”

“Oh my god.” The adorable obliviousness shouldn't have been as hot as it was, and yet. “Aziraphale, a groupie is someone who follows a band or famous musician around trying to get noticed by them.”

“Ah. I'll have to look up the etymology of that.” Aziraphale hummed. “I appreciate that you share this information with me despite your laughter.”

“You're just- It's adorable.” He giggled, dildo still clutched in his hand. “Aziraphale, I lo-” Oh. Oh no. “I-I- I think it's very cute.” Crowley put a hand over his mouth to keep anymore potential 'L Words' from falling out.

“I'm glad you feel that way, pet. Now off you pop. Into the shower with you, and I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, yes you will.” Which mean he only had until tomorrow to get his stupid mouth and, possibly, heart under control. Going around expressing something like love too quickly was a sure-fire way of chasing off anyone. “Tomorrow. We'll be by tomorrow. After school.”

“I look forward to seeing you both, my dear. Enjoy your shower and the rest of your day.”

“Y-yeah. You too. Try not to miss me, eh?”

“That, I'm afraid, is a lost cause. Goodbye, Crowley.”

“Bye, angel.” And when the line went dead, Crowley set his phone facedown on the counter, covered his face with his hands, and groaned. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

He was in love with Aziraphale. They'd gone on one proper date and he was already arse over teakettle. He always did this: fell too hard and too fast and wanted more than someone was willing to give. Crowley didn't know whether to laugh or to yell.

Well, he knew what he was going to do, because despite the mild panic there was still the heat of arousal skittering under his skin. Adrenaline, too, but that only seemed to heighten the arousal, made him want the ridiculous man he was apparently in love with to pin him to the cool tiled shower wall and be given a proper seeing to.

Crowley groaned again. He was so, so, done for. He glared at the dildo, the bright blue of it stood out so easily in the mostly colourless bathroom. It probably wouldn't be enough to really satisfy him, but it would have to do until he could get Aziraphale alone and finally undo all of those buttons and layers.

The craft store smelled strongly of lavender. Part of it was thanks to the door greeter, but most of it was because of the synthetic pumping in of a relaxing scent. It only made Warlock's nose wrinkle as they wandered through the aisles of fabric. There were three full aisles dedicated to scent pouches, but this was first.

“This place sucks.”

Crowley ran a bolt of red satin through his fingers, humming at it. “You're only saying that because of the scent.” Not that he liked it much either, but needs must.

“Because it's gross.”

“Yes, it is. We won't be here long, though.”

“Okay. Have you ever made one of these before?”

“I- I have, yeah. One other time, but that was years ago.” When it was still common to fill them with rice instead of the little scent soaking beads that lasted so much longer.

Warlock poked at the bolts of fabric, running his hands over them in the bored fashion of a child who wanted to be anywhere else. “Are you gonna make Aziraphale’s look different?”

He thought about that first one, a sleek leather bag that he'd painstakingly sewed together by hand and tied off with a black ribbon. “Yeah, it's gonna be different. He deserves something just for him, I think.”

“Yeah.” He lifted up to his toes to poke at the red satin. “This is soft.”

“That's satin for you, but the important part is it's durable and should last a good while.”

“It's your favorite color too.”

He wasn't sure if red was actually his 'favourite' colour. It looked good on black which looked good on him, that was about the end of it. “Yup. Red it is.” He snatched up a square of the red. “Come on, let's see what they have to tie it off with.”

Warlock trailed after him, pouting to himself. Part of him wanted to snag it and bite through the fabric and shake stuff, but he satisfied that instinctive urge by fiddling with every little thing he could get his hands on. “Are they hard to make? Why d'you wanna make one instead of buying one?”

“Nah, they aren't hard to make. Just gotta fold the fabric right and tie it off.” Sewing wasn't even required anymore if you couldn't or didn't want to. “And I'm making one because it's much more personal than just buying a generic one. I don't wanna just give Aziraphale something someone else made.”

He picked up a string of beads, rubbing the pads of his fingers over every curve. “Because you like him that much?”

Crowley’s cheeks pinked. “It's- I- Yes. I like him, quite a lot, and I wanna give him something nice.”

“Nicer than a kerchief?” Warlock teased. He could smell it on him, that hint of alpha.

“The kerchief is nice, you brat,” Crowley said and threw an arm around his shoulders. “A bit old-fashioned, sure, but it used to be the thing you gave someone you were interested in.”

“I know.” The touch distracted him into putting the beads down, walking closer to Crowley. “Dad used to give mom a new pouch every year on their anniversary, so I don't think it ever really smelled all the way like him. Does everybody do that?”

“Eh, not really. I suppose it depends. The idea is you make a pouch that lasts and just have to refresh the scent in it occasionally. Supposed to last longer than the kerchiefs and things people used to give.”

“Oh. Like for when people go on vacations away from their family?”

“Sort of. It's also just more convenient. A kerchief, if heavily used, has to be refreshed every few days. Whereas the pouch only has to be refreshed every few months even if you never leave it alone.”

“Oh. Is that why Aziraphale’s kerchief already smells weaker?” And why his gifts from his own parents no longer really smelled like them at all.

“Yup. Regular old fabric just doesn't hold smells for that long. Not unless it's been practically soaked in it for months.”

“Oh.” Warlock shrugged. “I guess Aziraphale washes his kerchief then.”

“I would certainly hope so,” Crowley muttered. “No partner wants a snotty sweaty handkerchief.”

Warlock snorted. “No. Do... Can I... It'd be weird if I gave him something. He wouldn't want it.”

“I don't know about that.” Crowley gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Aziraphale cares about you. There's nothing weird about wanting to give him something with your scent.”

“He likes you more than he likes me, though.”

Crowley pulled them to a stop and out of the way. “He likes me differently, that's all. Did you know he told me that even if him and I don't work out that he still wants to be in your life? That's a pretty big deal.”

Warlock dropped his gaze, wringing his hands briefly before looking up again. “Did he for real?”

“He did, yes. Would I lie to you?”

“I guess not,” he mumbled. He tipped forward, hiding his face against Crowley’s stomach. “What... What'm I supposed to give him?” His dad had certainly never wanted any scent gifts from him. The few times Warlock had tried before one of his trips, he'd been patted on the head and reminded that he only smelled like any other pup. So it hadn't mattered.

Crowley patted him on the back with a small smile. “Well you could do a pouch like I am, they aren't just for romance, or something from your nest is also pretty common.”

He didn't want to give anything in his nest away, the instincts that needed it to be perfect still too new for disruption. “I could- I could make a pouch.”

“You could. Want me to help you pick things out?”

He hesitated, but figured even if he made one, he wouldn't have to give it to Aziraphale. “Yeah.”

“Alright.” Crowley grabbed his hand. “Let's go back and get you some fabric and we can make them together later today.”

“That's dumb,” Warlock mumbled, but held Crowley’s hand tight and followed without argument.

Chapter Text

The door was unlocked, though Aziraphale was clearly not open for business. Rather than a person wandering the shelves, the massive white wolf was sprawled beneath the front counter. It was a very clear sign that the owner didn't want to be disturbed.

Except by the two omegas who walked in Monday afternoon, the alpha's long tail thumping against the floor.

The sight of him sent Crowley’s heart fluttering. It had only been a full day, but he'd been able to think of nothing else but Aziraphale since parting after their date. “Hey, angel, scaring off customers?”

He growled in answer, but it was more playful than vicious. His tail wagged harder, especially when Warlock transformed. Lured by the scent of an adult wolf, he didn't have full control of it. So he was a little disgruntled until Aziraphale rose and padded over to nuzzle him with a grumbling, growl of a purr.

Crowley laughed and knelt beside them, giving in to the impulse to bury a hand in Aziraphale's fur. It was soft, like what children thought a cloud should feel like, and scratched gently along his neck. “Didn't mean to interrupt your afternoon nap.”

He hadn't been napping, but waiting. With another rumbling sound, Aziraphale pushed closer and pressed his wet nose into Crowley's neck.

“Hey!” Crowley gasped. His nose wasn't just wet, it was cold too. A shiver made its way down his spine at Aziraphale's warm breath and he had to resist the instinct to lift his chin and bare his throat for his alpha. “Miss me?”

Aziraphale nosed higher, pressing the length of his muzzle against Crowley’s cheek in an unmistakably affectionate way. The pup, meanwhile, was just trying to capture his wagging tail.

“I'll take that as a yes,” Crowley murmured and wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s neck. There was going to be white fur all over his clothes, but it was worth it to be able to press his nose into that soft, white fur and breathe in chocolate and bourbon and alpha. The scent of wolf was there too; it made him want to change and curl up in a nest with his alpha.

Aziraphale wanted the same, nose filled with the sweet scent of omega. He could smell himself too, the kerchief faint after Crowley’s constant attention and in need of a refresh. But he could rub himself over Crowley and scent him that way, burrowing closer and boldly licking his cheek. His mate, his instincts said. His, his, his.

Crowley chuckled, somewhat surprised. He wasn't sure how Aziraphale felt about such outward displays of affection in front of others, but he certainly didn't mind. “Keep inching closer and you're gonna make me end up on the floor.” Which, he realised the second he'd said it, he also wouldn't mind.

He was suddenly in the arms of someone much more human-shaped, Aziraphale nuzzling their brows together with a light chuckle. Warlock paused briefly, but Aziraphale wiggled his tail to silently let him know he could continue the game. “So sorry, my dear. I was a bit excited.”

“That's alright. Always good to know someone's happy to see you.” His fingers played with the hair at Aziraphale's neck, not as fine as his fur but just as soft.

“I am. I'm very pleased to see both of you, in fact.”

“That's good, I'd be put out if you weren't pleased to see at least one of us.”

Aziraphale laughed. “I'd only be happy to see Warlock if I had to choose.” Aziraphale looked over his shoulder. “Even though he's sneakily gotten out of having to answer any questions over how his day has gone.”

Crowley laughed and swooped in to kiss his cheek. “Hey, not his fault smellin' you as a wolf made him change. He can't control it yet.”

“I know.” Aziraphale cupped his cheek and guided their lips together. “It is very nice to see you, pet.”

“Yes, it's good to see you too. What do you say to saving our knees and getting off the floor?”

Aziraphale rose with a smile, disrupting Warlock and holding out a hand to Crowley. “I'd be a terrible host if I let you injure yourself. How was your day, my dear?”

“Eh, same old, same old.” He let Aziraphale help him, scooping up Warlock along the way and laughing at the little huff he made. “Sell anything?”

“A tea set I wasn't altogether fond of, actually. Which was more than enough shopkeeping for me today.” It was wonderful to see them, Aziraphale’s tail wagging happily as he gazed at the pair. The little pup cradled in his omega's arms sent his instincts into an excitable tizzy, and he wanted to scoop them both up and find a place to burrow.

“Well, that's not too bad. So long as it wasn't my tea set.”

“The jadeite?” Aziraphale chuckled. “No, sweet dear, I would never.”

“Good. I like being able to look at it here.”

“Is that all you like to look at here?” he teased, and the pup let out a groan of a bark.

Crowley laughed and bounced him in his arms. “Excuse you, pup!” He slipped past Aziraphale to set Warlock down on the nearby counter. “You have to change back if you want input on our flirting. Them's the rules.”

It took a moment, but there was soon a human sitting on the counter, legs dangling over the edge. “If you guys are just gonna be gross the whole time, the only input I want is to tell you to go away.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Don't fret, young pup. We won't be... gross.”

“I dunno. Gross is a pretty broad category for eleven year olds.”

“That is true enough, I suppose.”

Warlock eyed Aziraphale’s smile with suspicion. “Are you gonna ask me how school was?”

“Well. Not if you tell me of your own resolve.”

His eyes rolled. “It was boring. Who even cares about school?”

“A great many people, I think. Where else would you learn?”

“From tutors.”

“Which one can find at school.”

“Exactly. And only rich brats have tutors.”

Warlock pursed his lips. “I had tutors.”

Crowley ruffled his hair with a grin. “I said what I said.”

“You're a brat.”

“You both are.” Aziraphale shook his head and held out a hand. “The kerchief, pet. It needs a refresh already, I see.”

“Oh, y-yeah. Sorry.” He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, kept there so it would be close to his heart and easy to duck his head and smell discreetly. “Used it more than I thought, I guess.”

“That's hardly off-putting to me.” Aziraphale took the cloth and laid it over his scent gland, noting the intent way Warlock watched him. “I don't mind having to refresh this for you.”

“I- I know. Thank you.” It was still a little embarrassing, though. It might not have been off-putting this time, but was sure to become a nuisance if it kept happening this frequently.

Smiling, Aziraphale held it back out. “Here you are. Or I can keep it until you leave? Just to ensure the scent seeps in thoroughly.”

“Y-yeah. I'd like that. If, ah, if you don't mind, of course.” And hopefully it would keep him from coming across as too needy.

“Of course.” Aziraphale laid it back over his gland, tucking it into the collar of his shirt for good measure. “But I don't have to refresh this. I've kept it on me for a few days.” It, too, was his family tartan. A new acquisition to replace the one currently in his collar, but he'd decided that there was little reason not to share the pattern with both omegas. “If, that is, you're willing to accept it, Warlock.”

The pup went still, staring at him. “Me?”

Aziraphale withdrew the kerchief with a small smile and stepped closer, offering it. “Only if you like, dear boy.” He hoped that if he carried it, bullies would be less likely to bother him. The scent of an alpha could be off-putting, even to those newly presented and reckless with it. “But I certainly won't pressure you into accepting. I know I'm only dating your guardian, but you should know I'm serious about this relationship. And about you being part of that.”

Warlock fidgeted with his jeans, scent not distressed so much as confused. He looked at Crowley a little helplessly. “Really?”

Crowley nodded at him. “It's okay if you want it and okay if you don't.” He didn't say 'I told you so', but it was a near thing.

Warlock hummed, legs swinging uncertainly, but he ultimately reached out and snatched the kerchief from Aziraphale, pushing it into his pocket and popping right back into a wolf.

Aziraphale smiled, reaching out and stroking the top of his head. “It's alright to be overwhelmed, little one. Just be sure to pester Crowley whenever you want it refreshed.”

“Yes, yes, just bother me. As if he doesn't already.” But his smile was fond as he scratched Warlock behind the ears. Silly pup.

Aziraphale smiled warmly. “You say that as if you don't enjoy it, pet.”

“I never said I didn't.”

Aziraphale leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I know. Now did you and Warlock have anything in mind to do tonight?”

“Ah-” Crowley scratched the back of his head, cheeks slightly pink. “Nothing terribly specific. Just, you know, thought it'd be nice to spend time together.” Not to mention the newly made scent pouch in his pocket.

“Perhaps a walk then, before it gets too late? And then someone may have to do his homework, but I can fix supper while he does. Unless you'd prefer to go out?”

“Either works for me. I wouldn't want to be a bother or-or put you out or anything.”

“Crowley...” Aziraphale tutted at him and stepped forward, taking his hands. “You are not a bother. If I was on my own tonight, I would cook anyway. I would make too much because I always do and have no one to share with. I want to share things with you.”

Of course he did because he was an angel and it was a good thing too, since if this sort of thing kept up he'd likely make Crowley’s heart give out. “A-alright. Cooking it is.”

“Good. You'll be able to see my actual kitchen and not just the little thing I have down here.” Aziraphale squeezed his hands. “As for that walk, do you have any preferences?”

Crowley smiled a little crookedly and glanced down at Warlock who was looking up at him with his best wolfly impression of don't you fucking dare. “You know, the pup was saying how he'd like us all to go to a park sometime.”

“Oh! That could be fun. The St. James Park isn't too far from here at all. Would that be acceptable?”

Warlock grunted, slumping down onto the desk and glaring at Crowley as best as a pup could.

“That sounds fantastic, angel.”

There was something almost painfully domestic, walking hand-in-hand beside Crowley with a pup cradled in the omega's arm. They could and did chat idly about their respective days in more detail, and Aziraphale enjoyed breathing in the scents of them with every step. It was new for him, but it settled so many instincts that he didn't want to recoil. Nor did he want to slow things down, the way he had in many other relationships. Aziraphale wanted this to continue.

When they eventually entered the park, they found a bench to sit together on and let Warlock frolic through the well tended grass and the fallen Autumn leaves. Aziraphale itched to join him, but kept Crowley’s hand in his. “I didn't want to say anything with him so close, but... Warlock smelled... upset when you first walked in. I suspect he had more than just a boring day at school?”

Crowley sighed and leaned their shoulders together, Aziraphale was a warm, comfortable anchor he could rely on while watching Warlock attempt to sneak up on a sparrow. “The pup in his class is escalating. Now, instead of just growling at him from behind, he's cornering him in the hall and doing it.”

“What a wretched child,” Aziraphale huffed. “And shame on the school for allowing it.”

“You're tellin' me,” he muttered. “And I feel awful that I can't protect him. Every call I've made either gets ignored or brushed aside as ‘natural behaviour.’ Natural behaviour my arse. I'd like to see the little prick growl at me and see how well that goes for him.”

“There's nothing at all natural about cornering a peer just to frighten him.” Aziraphale watched the pup pounce and entirely miss the sparrow, but the little wagging tail showed he didn't mind the failure very much at all. “He's going to get a terrible impression of alphas. More of one than he has already.”

“You're helping with that, though. A good influence, showing him how a real alpha's supposed to behave.”

“But that doesn't help him at school, does it? He sees his bullies far more than he does me.”

“You're still leaving an impact. He has difficulty saying things sometimes, but he really likes you. Looks up to you, even, I think.”

“I hope so. We do chat often, but it's all over the computer.” Aziraphale smiled, squeezing Crowley’s hand. “Are you worried I'll grow tired of you both if I see you too much?”

“I- That's-” He flushed and glanced away, holding Aziraphale’s hand tight in his. Aziraphale had been open with him about insecurities, so he could be too. “N-not him, at least.”

Aziraphale cupped his cheek, guiding his head to tilt closer so their brows could nuzzle together. “I want you around me,” he murmured. “I like how I feel when I'm with you. I like having your scent, and I know you like mine or the kerchief wouldn't already need refreshing. Give me an opportunity, pet. I think you'll be pleased by how often I think of you.”

Crowley nodded and swallowed thickly. “I do like your scent. Like having it in my nest. I just- I-” He took a deep breath, fortifying himself with chocolate and bourbon. “I know I can be… a lot. Clingy, as I've been told. And I'm trying not to be. Working to be better.”

Aziraphale frowned. “I don't want you to feel as though you have to censor yourself for me. You've made me feel quite comfortable being myself.”

“You haven't made me feel like that, angel. Not at all.” He leaned into the hand at his cheek. “I just know that when I get attached I don't want to let go and… I'm already getting attached.”

“Oh, Crowley...” Aziraphale untucked the kerchief and offered it. “I, ah, wasn't going to tell you what this actually means, but... But it's my pack's tartan. And I've never given a piece of it away to anyone.”

“O-oh.” His pack's tartan. A unique pattern that only pack members were allowed to wear. Crowley blinked back the wetness in his eyes as he took the kerchief because he wasn't about to start snivelling in the middle of the park. “I, ah, have something for you, actually. Not as special as your pack's tartan, but…”

“Anything from you would be special to me, pet.”

Crowley huffed a soft laugh and untangled their fingers so he could reach into his jacket pocket and retrieve the red satin pouch, the top of it tied off with a black ribbon. “I hope this is alright.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale took it and pressed it to his nose, tail flicking happily behind him. “I wasn't going to ask, but I did hope. Is that what you were doing yesterday?”

“Y-yeah. At the craft shop getting the materials.”

Aziraphale beamed, delighted with him. “Thank you. I'll cherish it. And it'll be very nice to have your scent nearby when you're not.”

“It was a bit unfair, wasn't it? That I had your scent but you didn't have mine.”

“A bit, but my gift was given rather impulsively.” Aziraphale tucked it into his pocket, smiling. “Not that I regret it, of course, but if I'd put any proper thought into it, I would've used the kerchief to make a pouch for you.”

“It's alright, nothing wrong with a little impulsiveness on occasion.” It had also just been terribly sweet and very Aziraphale.

“No, I don't think so.” Aziraphale kissed the tip of his nose. “Do you mind terribly if I go and play with Warlock a bit?”

Crowley shook his head with a smile. “Nah, I don't mind. Go have fun chasing the pup. Someone needs to wear him out.”

Aziraphale chuckled and leaned in to press their lips together. “He may wear me out before I do him. It's been some months since I was around pups.”

“Yeah, but you're bigger'n he is. When you get tired you can just scoop him up and plop him in my lap. Easy as anything.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” Aziraphale smiled and stood. “You'll be alright here, dearest?”

Crowley smiled back and slouched on the bench. “I'll be just fine. Don't you worry about me.”

“I will if I like.” Aziraphale kissed his brow before he stepped back and became a white wolf. He shook his fur out, shining in the sun, and bowed enough to lay his head on Crowley’s knee. He grumbled, a sound that reached for Crowley’s instincts. An alpha soothing his mate or teasing him.

“Ridiculous alpha,” he murmured and scratched one of his floppy ears, smiling when his tail thumped the ground. The smell of adult alpha wolf made him want to change, just as it had in the shop. It had been so long since he'd ran and romped with other wolves and everytime he thought about it that same old nagging fear cropped up again. What if he couldn't change back this time? “Go play with the pup, I'll be right here waiting for you.”

Aziraphale nuzzled into his hands, his bark a thundercrack of a sound that surprised Warlock into stumbling over his own paws. Sounds as close to laughter as he could make in this form spilled out as Aziraphale bolted after the pup. Warlock was barely the size of his head, so it was easy to swat him over.

It wasn't as easy to be gentle.

Warlock was small and clumsy, his feet too big for his legs and not enough time spent as a wolf. His dad had always said it was an undignified state to be in, and his mom had only transformed when he was gone on business trips. He could barely remember what it had been like to snuggle up with her, get lost in her dark brown fur. There wasn't any getting lost in Aziraphale's, the pup stark black against pretty white and surrounded in the scent of alpha.

Sharp teeth that could rip him into pieces stayed shut, every single growl edged with something too playful to be frightening. It was nothing like being in school. It was nothing like his mom's calming influence either. She'd always nudged him in and snarled if he bit, teaching him how to be polite and proper in whatever form he took.

Don't embarrass your father.

But that demand was gone. The alpha was encouraging him to play, even when tiny sharp teeth closed around a floppy ear or tried to nip at enormous paws or a constantly wagging tail. It was like nothing Warlock had ever experienced as a wolf or, in so many ways, as a human.

He jumped and tumbled and rolled until he was exhausted, then tried to play even more. He didn't want to have to nap. He wanted to keep going. He wanted to keep learning in the safe shadow of a great big alpha who didn't talk down to him, didn't care if he got too wild, and had given him a scented gift.

But then when he was racing underneath Aziraphale, the large wolf dropped and squished him beneath his weight. Warlock wiggled and yipped his protests and wormed his way beneath Aziraphale’s muzzle. He grumbled in Warlock's ear, a soft sound to soothe, and Warlock swatted weakly at his muzzle before getting scruffed.

He barely bounced as Aziraphale trotted back to the bench and the grinning Crowley perched on it. It was a little disappointing that his guardian hadn't joined them and extra embarrassing that his little tail started to wag as they drew closer, but he didn't stop.

It was almost comical to watch Aziraphale, massive white wolf that he was, carrying a scruffy little black pup whose tail just couldn't seem to quit moving. Crowley laughed when Warlock was dropped right into his lap only to quickly swirl around and bap Aziraphale on the nose. “Alright, time to calm down now, I think,” he said around his chuckles while he started picking leaves and twigs from Warlock’s fur.

Aziraphale pushed in, nose rubbing against the pup who smelled so much like him after the bout of roughhousing, but the scent of his exhaustion was just as heavy. Both adults knew he was fighting sleep.

Fighting a losing battle, more like. Once his fur was mostly clear it only took a handful of gentle strokes, the scents of a trusted guardian and a protective alpha helping to calm an excitable pup. Crowley glanced up once his breathing had become something deep and rhythmic, fingers leaving Warlock's fur to scratching along Aziraphale’s jaw. “Looks like you two had fun. Want me to clean your fur too?”

Aziraphale rubbed against his palm, purrs soft rumbles. But then he stood on his hind legs, front paws landing on the bench just above Crowley’s shoulders. It was a fluid motion that managed to convey claim, amusement, and dare all at once.

It made Crowley chuckle softly and he leaned up to nuzzle into the fur at Aziraphale's throat despite how dirty it was. Being surrounded by this much alpha, one he trusted and who his instincts said was a good mate, felt safe, comfortable. He matched Aziraphale’s deep, full chested rumbles with purrs of his own and buried his hands in his fur. “It was nice watching you two play.”

Aziraphale nestled his chin in Crowley’s hair, mussing the coif. There was a vulnerability in this for him, baring his belly as he was, but he had no doubts as to this sweet omega's intentions. He wouldn't be hurt, and Crowley knew he wouldn't be hurt in turn. Mate, his instincts crooned, my mate.

“Here, let me groom you a bit,” Crowley murmured, hands carding through his soft fur, gently tugging leaves and twigs and brushing dirt away. He started from his neck and the thick mane there and slowly worked his way down over his chest then his belly, keeping his nose tucked under Aziraphale’s jaw and purr soft. It was an intimacy that Crowley was honoured to have received so easily, grooming his alpha and making him presentable again. “Wouldn't want you changing back with leaves in your hair.”

Aziraphale huffed, but let Crowley do and touch as he pleased. Letting someone else groom him was such a rarity. He couldn't recall the last time he'd let someone do this for him, nor could he recall anyone doing so with such care. Not since his mothers.

When he changed back, he was still hovering over Crowley. He nuzzled their brows together, hands leaving the bench to lay on his shoulders instead. “It would hardly be the first time I changed with leaves in my hair.”

“Oh, I'm sure.” He grinned, hand sliding up Aziraphale’s neck to cup his cheek. “And it would seem I missed one,” Crowley murmured and pulled a small leaf from behind Aziraphale’s ear.

Aziraphale laughed, soft and low, eyes shining with amusement. “Thank you, pet. You're a regular magician,” he teased with a little wiggle.

“I wouldn't say that.” But he did tilt his head up just enough to brush their lips together. “Have fun?”

“I did. He's a rambunctious, clumsy little thing, though. I was worried I might step on him, really.”

Crowley laughed. “But you didn't. It was adorable watching you, especially when he'd try and pounce and your massive paws would just knock him right over.”

It had been a challenge not to be too rough, especially when sharp puppy teeth had sunk into his ear one too many times. But the instincts to let the boy play in a way he was clearly unfamiliar with had won out over the instincts to punish innocent roughness. Kerbing that came with practice anyway, and Warlock clearly wasn’t getting much practice on four legs. “He’s just such a small pup.” He let go of his shoulders, straightening himself and his bow tie. “Are you ready to go back to the shop? We’ll tuck him in for a kip and I can start supper.”

“Yes, I'm sure he'll be a hungry little monster when he wakes up.” Crowley lifted him to tuck against his shoulder, soothing the snuffles it caused with soft purrs that lulled him right back to sleep.

“I have no doubt.” Something in Aziraphale’s chest tightened at watching Crowley with a little pup. “Will you let me kiss you properly once he’s settled?”

Crowley smiled as he stood and gave Aziraphale’s cheek a kiss before whispering in his ear, “I'll be terribly disappointed if you don't.”

“I don’t have a choice, then. I couldn’t possibly disappoint my omega.” Aziraphale slipped an arm around Crowley’s waist, keeping it there as they left the park.

Walking the streets of London with Aziraphale just felt… right. The arm around his waist was possessive, yes, but it didn't make him feel owned. It was more of a warm, comfortable weight that felt caring and, dare he think it, loving. Crowley was trying very hard to ignore his own burgeoning feelings and how his heart did stupid little flippy things everytime Aziraphale was so much as nearby. It was ridiculous. They'd gone on one, single, date. It felt too fast to already be falling in love with this ridiculous alpha who insisted on walking on the road side of the sidewalk with him and opening doors for him.

It didn't feel nearly so silly when the bookshop door closed behind them, closing off the rest of the world, and Aziraphale helped him out of his jacket before even thinking of taking off his own coat. And it felt like something special when he was led up the spiral stairs to the rooms above. “Last time I was up here I was chasing you down to get my pup back.”

“If I’d had hands, you would’ve ended up in my nest. It’s where I wanted you to be.” And they went down the same hall again. “I have a small sitting room that should be suitable for Warlock. He can curl up on the loveseat or we can bundle him in a makeshift nest on the floor. I certainly have enough pillows and blankets for it. Whichever you feel is best for him.”

“The loveseat should be fine.” Though he couldn’t help but imagine what it might have been like to have to chase Aziraphale all the way to his nest. Maybe having to climb into it just to retrieve Warlock… and perhaps even never wanting to leave. “He can still get, ah, tetchy about nesting.”

“Of course. Mine always had to be just so. If a texture or a scent was wrong, it had to go,” he admitted, chuckling as they approached an open doorway. It spilled into a room that was as cluttered as the rest of his home, though the books were at least relegated to shelves all along the walls rather than scattered about wherever they fit. There was a plush loveseat, a nook under a window, a trunk that looked to be doubling as a coffee table, and two armchairs that looked as if a person could easily melt into the soft, worn leather. “I suppose I still have my preferences, but much of this has been around long before my time.”

It looked like most of the furniture had been around long before Aziraphale, but somehow still felt very him. Cosy and warm. Like a home. It also smelled overwhelmingly of Aziraphale; every breath was bourbon and chocolate and Crowley wanted nothing more than to drown in it. He set Warlock down on one side of the loveseat, stroking his head when he sniffled and pulled the multicoloured throw blanket off the back to drape around him. It wasn't necessarily cold up here, but it made him feel better. “There, that's just fine, isn't it?”

“I think so, and it won't be difficult to find us when he awakens. The kitchen's just down the hall.”

“Good.” And when he straightened up and turned back to Aziraphale, Crowley didn't have a single worry about not having his pup in his sights. Warlock was safe here, his alpha wouldn't let anything happen to him.

Aziraphale took his hand and pulled him back out of the room and into the hall anew. “Would it, ah… Would it make you uncomfortable if we- if I showed you my nest?”

Crowley shook his head sharply. “I- I wouldn't mind. Wouldn't make me uncomfortable. Not at all.” But it did make his heart beat a little harder.

“Good.” Aziraphale nodded, cheeks dusted pink. “I just, ah, I didn’t want your first time inside of my room to be the same as the night you’re going to spend with me. I know being in an alpha’s space can be a bit overwhelming.”

“It can be, yeah.” And while he didn't think he'd get overwhelmed with Aziraphale, it was good to make sure wasn't it? Definitely not also an excuse to satisfy his own curiosity.

Aziraphale led him across the hall, right to the door he’d carried Warlock to weeks earlier. “If there’s anything you find uncomfortable about it, do let me know. I don’t mind adjusting anything for you.” Smile soft, nervous at the edges, he opened the door and urged Crowley inside. It wasn’t dissimilar to the sitting room, though there was only one armchair beside the window, a sturdy old armoire, and the centrepiece - his king-sized bed. It took up most of the room, was covered in thick, soft looking blankets of various patterns of creams and tans and his pack’s tartan. There were pillows, too, a pile of them bundled at the headboard. It was as plush and as inviting as the alpha himself, quietly waiting for judgement with perked ears and a stilled, poised tail.

Crowley took it all in, eyes darting around quickly behind his glasses. The furniture was all still very obviously antique, but also very well cared for. And no matter where he looked, he couldn't stop going back to the bed, his nest. He wanted to see if it was as comfortable as it looked, slide between the sheets and blankets with the alpha that made it. “'S perfect,” he murmured, twitching fingers finding Aziraphale’s shirt. “Don't change a thing.”

“You’re sure? You’ll be comfortable here?” Though his scent didn’t hold any displeasure. Aziraphale stepped closer, nuzzling Crowley’s cheek. He wanted that caramel apple scent on his sheets, wanted his crisp sweetness to mingle with his own scent so much, it ached. “You like it?”

“I do like it,” Crowley murmured back, rubbing their cheeks together. “It's very you.”

He said it as if it was a good thing. Aziraphale turned to face him better, hands finding his waist to guide him close. “Have you any idea how badly I want to ask you to stay tonight? I know you can’t, pet. I wouldn’t put you or Warlock in that situation, but… But I want you here with me.”

Crowley made a quiet noise just beside his ear, something meant to be soothing, and let himself be pulled close. “Here is exactly where I want to be. Right here, with you, alpha.”

“That doesn’t help me refrain from asking you to stay,” he murmured, their lips nearly touching. “My tempting, sweet omega.”

“Tempting, am I?” Crowley chuckled and brushed the tips of their noses together. “Should speak for yourself. I'm the one with a pup to think of and here I have a handsome alpha inviting me to see his nest.”

“You’re the single most tempting thing I’ve ever come across, pet. Don’t forget I know what you look like, wet and wanting. It hardly takes any imagination at all to picture you like that in my nest, and now that I can smell you here too…” Aziraphale pressed him closer and captured his lips, unable to wait another moment.

Crowley wasn't surprised by it, not with how close they'd been gravitating, but he was surprised at how careful and gentle Aziraphale still was. Their previous evening together hadn't been some fluke and Crowley found himself melting just as much now as he had then.

Aziraphale slid a hand to the small of his back, nudging him that much closer and holding him up. He explored Crowley’s mouth with a slow reverence, as if he was a delicacy Aziraphale was privileged enough to sample, and he didn’t want to miss a single flavour. “My omega,” he purred, lips travelling along the sharp jawline in nippy kisses that teased fangs Aziraphale longed to sink into a willing, compatible partner.

“Alpha,” Crowley gasped, gripping his shirt with both hands just to make sure he didn't go anywhere. He could feel those sharp teeth with every kiss, longed to tilt his chin and bare his throat. An impulse and an instinct he had to swallow past with a soft groan.

“Your alpha,” Aziraphale murmured, trailing down to find Crowley’s scent gland. He closed his lips around it, mindful of his fangs as he licked the sweet oils and got the taste of caramel apples on his tongue.

Crowley made an embarrassing noise, something between a whimper and a moan, felt his knees go weak. No one had so much as even cared about his scent gland in- his brain was too scrambled to pull up a number, but it had been so very long. “N-ngk, 'ngel…”

It would be so easy to sweep him up and carry him to bed, to pull away their clothes until they could be joined. He knew Crowley would let him. But he lifted his head instead and pressed their brows together. “Sweet omega,” he murmured. “When we can, I’m going to take very good care of you.”

He had absolutely no doubt about that, but it took Crowley a moment of heavy breathing to get his voice back. “Course you will. Already doing it. Taking care of me.”

Aziraphale kissed his cheek. “Not nearly as much or in all of the ways as I want to.”

“Sounds like I have plenty of things to look forward to.”

Aziraphale pressed their cheeks together. “I hope so. But we'll start with a meal. How does cottage pie sound?”

“That sounds delicious, angel.” Something warm for the chilly Autumn day. “Would you like some help?”

“It depends. How good are you at peeling potatoes?”

Crowley laughed. “I think I know how to peel a potato or two.”

“It may require more than that, but I'll help you if need be.” Smiling, Aziraphale gave him a squeeze and stepped back. “Come along, pet.”

“I know how to cook, angel,” he said as Aziraphale led him from his room and down the hall. “I have been fending for myself for a good long while now.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Have you? Do tell,” he teased, guiding Crowley into a kitchen that looked as if it hadn't been updated since 1956. It was larger than the kitchenette downstairs, but still on the small side. Especially in comparison to Crowley’s. “Start here with these. I need them peeled and chopped. I'll get the beef started.”

“Alright. No problem.” He quickly discovered Aziraphale did not have a potato peeler, just the usual paring knife. Which was fine. This had been how his mother had done it when he was a pup and after a moment of fumbling he found the right rhythm and angle. It was… terribly domestic. The quiet kitchen sounds of the knife slicing through the potato skin and Aziraphale just a step or two away with the beef.

It had been a long time since Aziraphale had cooked with someone or even with someone nearby. “Do you cook for yourself and Warlock often?”

Crowley glanced over to him briefly. “I do, yeah. Cheaper than eating out every night… which used to be my normal.”

“Yes... I've found it's much easier to get takeaway than to cook for oneself.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Pretty sure the Indian place over near the flat knew my order by heart before Warlock came to live with me.”

“Oh, I tend to work my way down a menu, and you've seen how the restaurateurs tend to know me, but it's still nice to cook now and again. Though I'm more of a baker than a cook, truth be told.”

“Oohh, a baker. What kind of things do you bake?”

“Nearly anything I can find a recipe for.” Aziraphale smiled at him. “The cake we're going to have for dessert is one of mine. Assuming you like chocolate?”

Crowley glanced at him again, peeking over his glasses. “I definitely do.”

His smile brightened at the glimpse of pretty golden eyes. “I don't mean my scent, you silly thing.”

“I never said anything about any scent.”

Aziraphale’s hips wiggled with his cheerful bubble of laughter. “It's a chocolate mousse torte, so I hope Warlock also likes chocolate. I do know he likes banana things, but I thought I would save an American banana pudding for next time.”

Next time, he wanted there to be a next time. It was still something difficult to believe. “Oh, he'll like that. Not as fond of chocolate, but I don't mind getting preferential treatment.”

Aziraphale laughed. “He would've gotten it this time had he told me he liked bananas sooner.”

Crowley huffed and shook his head. “Took me months to get him to even admit to liking anything.”

“I should think him opening up to me so quickly is a testament to your patience and kindness. I'm sure you allow and respect his likes and dislikes, so he's testing it on me.”

“Guess that means I'm doing something right.”

“Oh, Crowley, I think you're doing your very best with him. He loves you.” Aziraphale stepped closer to kiss his cheek. “I'm very proud of you.”

His cheeks went warm and pink, eyes leaving the last potato he was skinning entirely. “Is that right? You really- Shit! Fuck!” Crowley flinched back as the knife slid right across the pad of his thumb.

“Oh, Crowley!” Aziraphale grasped his wrist. “Ridiculous thing. You should know better. Here now.” He pulled him to the sink and stuck his hand under a warm stream. “One second, pet. I have a first aid kit right around here.”

Crowley pouted at him. “'M fine. It's just a little cut.”

“And I have a little plaster for a little cut.” Aziraphale cupped his chin and kissed him. “Don't pout at me.”

“I'll pout if I want to,” he pouted, just because he could and because it made Aziraphale roll his eyes.

“Terror,” he accused, then crouched to rummage beneath the sink. The box he emerged with looked as antique as anything else in the bookshop, so it was a little jarring to see an array of very modern antiseptic and plasters and bandages inside. Aziraphale plucked up a plaster and turned off the water, seeming satisfied that the cut was indeed a minor one. “Does it hurt?”

“Eehh, not really. Just a little sting.”

“Alright.” Aziraphale still wrapped the plaster around his finger and, with a wry smile, pressed a kiss to his thumb. “And I thought you said you could take care of yourself.”

“I can!” Crowley gasped in mock offence. “It's not my fault you're a world class distraction.”

“Oh?” Brows lifted, lips twitching. “It's my fault you were hurt?”

“Well, I mean, pfft, I wasn’t going to put it like that.”

“Oh, no. You said it quite clearly. I distracted you. I made you hurt yourself.” Aziraphale ducked down and nearly swept an arm behind his knees to scoop him up, holding him as if he weighed nothing. “Obviously, I need to take better care of you.”

Crowley would forever deny that he'd let out a squeak, arms going around Aziraphale’s neck with no hesitation. His alpha was strong and it was impossible not to imagine being carried back to his nest just like this. “N-ngh. No, y-you do. Take good care of me. Already.”

“Not good enough, apparently, if I’m distracting you into hurting yourself.” It was too easy to imagine carrying him to his nest, but perhaps Crowley would let him when the time came. He carried him to the small kitchen table instead, depositing him neatly and gently in one of the chairs. “There now. Sit tight, pet. I’ll finish up.”

“Hold on, you,” Crowley said and pulled him down by the lapels of his shirt for a kiss. “Can still help. It's just a small thing.”

“I know, Crowley. There really isn’t much left to do in the grand scheme of things. I was going to shoo you away when you were finished with the potatoes anyway.”

He gave a dramatic sigh and released Aziraphale’s lapels to rest his hands on his chest. “I suppose that's alright, then.”

“So long as I have my omega’s permission,” Aziraphale teased, rubbing their noses together.

“Well, you do have to make up for distracting me.”

“I certainly do.” Aziraphale kissed him again, lingering this time until Crowley’s hands lifted to take hold of him again. He captured them, breaking the kiss to instead kiss the backs of each hand. “You’re very sweet, and I am sorry you’ve hurt yourself. Even if it’s a small thing.”

Crowley smiled up at him, heart feeling warm and light. Charmed, even. “Don't worry about me. I've had much worse, this is nothing.”

“I have no doubt, but why should that matter?” Aziraphale poked his nose and stepped away, tail wagging in contented swishes as he returned to finishing their meal.

Chapter Text

He wasn’t in his nest. That was the first thing Warlock realized when his eyes opened. He wouldn’t have known where he was at all if his curious inhale hadn’t immediately filled his senses with Aziraphale. And, well, it looked unmistakably like the bookshop. A part of it he’d never been to before, but definitely the bookshop.

But he wasn’t worried. He’d never gotten used to waking up in the hospital, and it had taken him a while to get used to waking up in Crowley’s apartment. He couldn’t say he was used to this either, not at all, but it didn’t scare him like the hospital or make him wonder if today was the day that Crowley got tired of him. It was a safe place to be, surrounded by an alpha’s scent.

One who’d played with him. On purpose. Warlock hadn’t even had to ask.

He wasn’t a wolf anymore as he sat up and stretched, the colorful throw falling away. He breathed in again, catching a whiff of his cousin and an underlying scent of food. That drew his empty stomach more effectively than anything. Otherwise, he would’ve stayed to poke around and see what was in the unfamiliar room.

Halting outside the kitchen, he could see Aziraphale and Crowley sitting together at a small table. It made something funny in his stomach flip to see them together, heads close and hands clasped. Not a bad feeling, exactly, but not something he was used to. He was used to seeing Crowley alone. He’d been used to seeing his mom alone too, for that matter. Even when dad was home, his parents had never been physically affectionate in his presence. They’d never seemed as close as these two, and they’d known each other a lot longer.

Did marriage ruin that?

Did… did having a pup together ruin that?

Warlock wasn’t sure, but there was no mistaking the way Aziraphale’s expression lit when he saw him. Like he mattered. Like he mattered to this alpha just as much as he seemed to matter to Crowley.

“There you are, dear boy. How was your nap?”

He frowned. “I don’t nap. Little pups nap.”

“Ah. Of course. How was your brief time asleep?”

He hoped his unimpressed look conveyed just how much he knew he was being teased. “I don’t know. I was asleep.”

Crowley glanced at him with a slight smirk, he'd been wondering if Warlock would wake up on his own or if he'd have to go do it himself. “Compared to Aziraphale you looked like a pretty little pup to me.”

“I bet you’d be small next to Aziraphale too,” Warlock huffed.

Aziraphale looked to Crowley, lips quirked. “I can’t tell which of us he’s intending to insult with that.”

“At least I would never insult either of you.”

Warlock scoffed. “Yeah, you would.”

“Nu-uh.”

The pup trailed closer and flopped into a chair beside Crowley as dramatically as he could. “You literally call me a brat, like, all the time.”

Crowley ruffled hair that was already mussed from sleep. “It's an affectionate nickname.”

“No, it’s not,” he insisted, trying to press into Crowley’s touch as subtly as possible. “You’re just dumb and trying to look cool for Aziraphale.”

“I don't have to try. Aziraphale already thinks I'm cool, but I don't see how it's fair you get to call me dumb but I can't call you a brat.”

“It’s an affectionate nickname,” he shot back, and Aziraphale laughed.

“You’re both being ridiculous.” He pushed back from the table and rose, shaking his head at them through his obvious amusement. “Now that you’re awake, dear boy, we’ll eat. I’m sure you’re famished.”

“Better be, growing pups are always hungry.” Crowley nudged him with his elbow and laughed when he received a shove back.

Aziraphale shook his head, but went to the oven. It had been off for some time, but the food had been left to keep warm. “You just want us to eat so we can get to dessert.”

“Dessert is the best part of dinner and I will take no criticism on that.”

“If that was true, we’d have ice cream for dinner a lot more than vegetables,” Warlock grumbled.

“When you’re an adult and it's your job to make dinner you can have as much ice cream as you want.”

“Every day.”

“An ambitious goal.” Aziraphale set two bowls down on the table, amused when Warlock rolled his eyes at - yes- vegetables. “Eat up, my dear, and there’ll be cake in reward.”

“From where?”

Aziraphale glanced at Crowley, lips curving in an easy smile. “It’s local.”

Crowley snorted at the way Warlock's eyes narrowed. “As local as absolutely possible.”

Warlock regarded both of them suspiciously. “What kind?”

“Chocolate.” Aziraphale returned to the counter to fix his own dish, tail swishing happily as he made his way back to his seat.

Crowley waited until Aziraphale had sat before starting on his own dinner and watched from the corner of his eye as Warlock regarded his food with mild suspicion before taking a tiny bite. It was nice eating together like this, almost like a… like a family. It made his heart twist and he quickly found a way to distract himself from it. “You know, pup, if we wanted to poison you we'd put it in the dessert.”

“You already woulda killed me,” he muttered, trying to figure out a way to eat without showing he actually liked it.

“My point exactly.” But he didn't push. Warlock had always been very vocal about the things he didn't like. His quiet said more than his words usually did.

Aziraphale tutted, pleased when Warlock continued to eat. Even if he made a show at poking at his food, he still filled his spoon for mouthfuls. “I suppose it’s a good thing cake and cottage pie are all cooked together. Bit difficult to only poison one person in that case.”

“You sound like you’ve planned how to poison somebody.”

“My dear, I’m a mystery writer,” Aziraphale reminded him. “I’ve planned several murders.”

Warlock snorted. “I bet your search history is crazy.”

“My search… Oh! On the Google? Yes. I do have some, ah, interesting things. Though most of my research involves books, telephone calls, and interviews in person.”

Crowley threw a grin at Warlock. “So you don't use the Google much, eh?”

Warlock shoved food into his mouth so he didn’t have to reply, and Aziraphale regarded them both with lifted brows. “No. It’s a bit too complicated for me.”

“Angel, Aziraphale, literally all you have to do is type what you want in. It's so easy.”

“Yes, that part is. But then there are always so many options and it's a bit difficult to parse out what holds reliable information and what doesn’t.”

Crowley blinked once and then purposefully set his fork down. Because of course no one had ever actually told Aziraphale how to use the internet. “Right, so, I'm going to give you an internet secret. When you want reliable information you go to Wikipedia, yes dot-com, and look it up then use their listed sources at the bottom.”

“Is it an encyclopaedia of sorts?”

“Yes! It's an internet encyclopaedia that's constantly being updated and maintained.”

“We’re not supposed to use it at school, but everybody does anyway. It’s like whatever.”

Aziraphale hummed, considering that. “Alright. I may just look into that.”

“You should.” Crowley placed a hand on his shoulder. “And, if you'd like, you can always ask me any questions you have.”

“Thank you, pet.” Aziraphale’s tail wagged cheerfully, and he reached up to pat Crowley’s hand. “I wouldn’t mind a lesson on the World Wide Web. Ah. The internet.”

“I'd be happy to give a lesson or two.”

“Or twelve,” Warlock added, relieved when Aziraphale only laughed. He still wasn't sure just how far he could go before the alpha really did get mad.

“At least one of you is realistic about my skills.”

“Hey, you're a smart bloke.” Crowley gave his shoulder a squeeze before releasing him to go back to his dinner. “I'm sure you’ll pick it up if someone actually takes the time to explain things.”

“I didn't call him stupid,” Warlock protested and Aziraphale reached out to take his fist in hand, very aware of the spike of fright in the young scent.

“Don't fret, my dear. Of course you didn’t. It was just a joke, and I took it that way. So did Crowley.”

“Mmhmm, you're alright, pup. We'd tell you if we were upset.”

“I know.” But his instincts were still struggling to catch up. The gentle hand over his, thumb rubbing soothingly against the back was joined by soft, grumbling purrs until his hunched shoulders relaxed and so did the tightly curled fist.

“There we are, Warlock. No need to fret, pup,” Aziraphale murmured, low and soothing.

When Warlock pulled his hand away, Aziraphale let him, and the boy managed to stay human-shaped. “I don't... I don't like instincts.”

“Oh, I know. But you'll get used to them.”

“They're not very fun right now, I know, but Aziraphale’s right. And someday you won't mind them nearly so much.”

“Don't you guys mostly ignore them?”

Aziraphale glanced at Crowley, hum soft. “I wouldn't say I ignore them, but I do... redirect them on occasion.”

“That's right. Some aren't always appropriate to act on or listen to, but others are important for your own well-being. It can be confusing, but you just have to trust us until you figure it out.”

“It isn't always easy, even when you're grown, but you'll develop the skills you need to decipher them. Even if you spend more time as a wolf than not, there are still things that you can and should control.”

Warlock's brow furrowed. “I thought wolves got to do whatever they wanted.”

“Certainly not, nor should we use our wolf forms as excuses for bad behaviour.”

“Not that there aren't people who think being a wolf gives them the leeway to do whatever they want.” Crowley placed his head in his hand. “But they would be wrong. We're people first, not animals.”

“And, yes, that does include those who choose to live in the woods.”

“Oh...” That isn't what his dad had always said. But Aziraphale had spent way more time as a wolf. He wasn't entirely sure how to take Crowley’s opinions, though, as Warlock had never seen him change. Even though he knew why, it didn't exactly inspire confidence. “Um. Were there... Y'know. In the park? Were you...”

“Was I fighting any instincts?” Aziraphale hummed, drumming his fingers against the table. “Somewhat. The urge to play rougher, really. I had to be very mindful of the fact that you're not an adult.” And ignore the desire to pester the adult omega who'd been watching them, but that wasn't something to admit to a pup.

Crowley wished he could have joined them instead of just sitting there having to watch. He'd thought about it, but that old fear of being unable to change back had cropped up and that would be the perfect reason to take Warlock away. “Don't forget about your dinner, now.”

“You just want cake,” he accused.

“You bet I do, and if I don't get my cake you don't get the planned banana pudding next time.”

“Banana pudding?” Warlock asked, immediately intrigued. But then he deflated. “Is it the British version of pudding? Because that's totally different.”

“No, dear boy, the American version.”

“For real?”

“Of course.”

Warlock wrestled with his own excitement for a moment before ducking his head and poking at his food. “That- That'd be cool.”

Crowley threw a grin at Aziraphale and the way his tail picked up speed at Warlock's admission. “Well, that just gives another incentive to keep coming around then.”

“You'd keep coming back anyway because you think he's cute.”

Aziraphale chuckled, gazing at Crowley. “Luckily for him, I think he is too.”

“Bleh.”

“Aww, angel, you think I'm cute,” Crowley said and leaned over to kiss his cheek despite Warlock's dramatic gagging.

Aziraphale laughed, cupping his cheek and kissing him firmly on the lips. “I do indeed. Now let the pup eat in his own time. I promise you'll still get cake.”

“I'd certainly hope so. Cake is meant to be shared, after all.”

“It is. I've been known to open the shop a few extra hours a day when I have too many desserts on hand.”

Crowley laughed, his hand drawn to rest on Aziraphale’s leg without even thinking about it. “No wonder everyone likes you, sharing sweets and cakes with the neighbourhood.”

“A bit of an odd duck, really. They serve as a good distraction from the things for sale.” Crowley’s hand was warm on his leg, a solid reminder of his nearness. Of his desire to be near. “Particularly when I'm able to tell would-be customers that they're unable to go any further in with food and can't touch a thing until they wash their hands. And how terribly inconvenient that my only sink is in an employees only area.”

“You really are a bastard.” Crowley said around his chuckles, leaning their shoulders together. “I still don't know why you keep the shop open when it's so distasteful to have customers and sell things.”

“Because it's always been a shop and to remove that aspect entirely seems... wrong. Besides, it's an entertaining and simple way to meet people and very handy with antiques that should be sold.”

“You know, I would say you could just sell the antiques on the internet, but I already know you wouldn't like that.”

“I have to be able to see the would-be purchasers, Crowley! What if they're wretched persons who wouldn't take care of things?” Aziraphale huffed, looking thoroughly affronted while Warlock watched him and Crowley through his fringe with barely concealed amusement. “Absolutely not.”

“Yeah, that's exactly what I thought.” Crowley laughed and kissed the corner of his mouth. “You're adorable when you're huffy, did you know that?”

“Oh, hush. I'm no such thing.”

“You are! And saying you aren't is lies and slander against my alpha, I won't have it.”

“I should've stayed asleep,” Warlock muttered.

“Oh, we aren't even that bad.”

“It's weird. You're never like this with anybody.”

“That is a relief.” Aziraphale smiled. “I'd hate to find out this isn't exclusive.”

Crowley felt his cheeks pinken. No, he wasn't usually like this, it was something he tried to keep under wraps, but somehow Aziraphale had effectively slipped past all his usual barriers. “Yeah, well, you've just never seen me with a partner before.”

Warlock wondered if he'd still be like this if Aziraphale bit him, but didn't ask. At least not yet. He pulled out his phone instead, focusing on that and his food instead of the adults beside him. “Whatever.”

Aziraphale lightly clucked his tongue. “I hope he gets used to seeing you with this one.”

“So do I, angel.” And he meant it. Aziraphale was, perhaps, the kindest alpha he'd ever met, he just had to not do something stupid and screw this up.

Dinner continued on for them, the hour growing later. They wouldn't be able to stay much longer, Aziraphale knew, even as Warlock declared himself too full for cake in a playful ploy to keep Crowley from having any. And, well, he was.

Crowley, of course, flipped it on him by reminding the pup he had homework to do. So, over groaning and unhappy mutterings, Warlock's books and papers were soon spread over Aziraphale’s table whilst he started dishes. They were new sounds: a young pup scribbling answers down and asking questions when wording didn't quite make sense, an omega patiently answering and explaining. He never gave the answer entirely, but gave Warlock the right tools to do it himself.

It was as domestic as cooking together had been. But where Aziraphale had cooked for a partner before, this was brand new. This was truly like having a family. A little pack to call his own, the scent of apples filling his nose with every inhale. It would be too easy to get used to this. Too easy to fall in love with these two, Aziraphale stubbornly ignoring everything that told him he already had.

But once dishes were over and the table cleared of successfully completed schoolwork, Aziraphale carried an antique cake tray to the table and set it down. He tried not to think about them leaving him again soon. “Alright, I think it's time to put Crowley out of his misery and satisfy that sweet tooth.”

“Finally! Thought you might have forgotten all about me, angel.” He hadn't really thought that, but it made Warlock roll his eyes and groan.

“It’s hard to forget about someone who isn’t subtle at all in his wonderings over where, exactly, the cake is being kept.” Amused, Aziraphale lifted the lid. The cake had a shiny layer of chocolate that seemed to drip down the sides of a thick mousse layer. The top was decorated with a few swirls of whipped cream and cherries.

Warlock’s fingers itched to swipe one, but he kept his hands to himself. That would’ve pissed off Crowley if not Aziraphale. “Wait,” he realized, “did you make it?”

Aziraphale chuckled as he sliced a generous piece to match Crowley’s wide eyes, just visible as he peered above his glasses. “I did indeed. Here we are, pet. A small piece, Warlock?”

“Yeah. Can… Can I get a cherry?”

Aziraphale cut him a thin slice. “I have more cherries in the refrigerator, if you’d like a few more.”

“Yeah! I- I mean yeah. Okay. I guess.”

Crowley gave him a nudge with his elbow. “What else do you say?”

His eyes rolled. “Please and thanks. I’m not a puppy.”

“No, you're a pup and there's nothing wrong with being polite.”

“Okay.” He didn’t even try to appeal to Aziraphale. His manners seemed as old as his clothes.

It was the wiser choice anyway, as he would’ve very happily agreed with Crowley. As it was, he kissed the top of the grown omega’s head as he set the jar of cherries on the table. His instincts were very cheerful in their insistence that this was a good mate, but he felt as if he’d already placed too much pressure on Crowley.

Warlock unscrewed the lid and scooped up a few more cherries. “Thanks.”

“Of course, dear boy.”

Had his tail been out it would have been wagging something fierce. He could tell by the twinkle in Aziraphale's eye that he'd done good. The first bite of cake was rich and moist, just like a cake should be. “Mmm, angel, you should've opened a bakery instead of a bookshop.”

As he cut his own slice, Aziraphale’s tail started to wag. “Thank you, my sweet omega, but that would never have worked out. Far too many customers would have specific requests.”

“Ah, yes, the old customer problem again.”

“It is a terrible nuisance.” He sat beside Crowley and took a bite, humming around his fork. “I’m glad you like it, pet. I’ll clearly need to make you more desserts.”

Warlock rolled his eyes again. “He’d drag us here every night if you did.”

Crowley flushed and fought back the immediate panicked response of 'no I wouldn't' to instead mutter, “Could just leave you at Tracy's.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “I wouldn’t mind if you came to visit so often, even if it was just for dessert.”

Visiting that often sounded like a sure fire way to make Aziraphale tired of him that much quicker. He said he wouldn't but… there was no way to know that for sure. “Heh, it wouldn't just be for dessert, you know that.”

Aziraphale leaned closer to him, pressing a kiss just beneath his ear. “I know. You’d get some anyway.”

It made his breath hitch and he had to remind himself that there was a pup here, that he couldn't just climb into Aziraphale’s lap and start making demands. “W-well I'd hope so. Like to taste more of your baking.”

“I'd be happy to share. I often have muffins or pastries around for breakfast. You'll have to tell me what you like,” Aziraphale purred, closing his lips around his fork.

Crowley watched him from the corner of his eye and he was not, he was not, thinking of Aziraphale's lips wrapped and purring around something else. “Keep that up and I'll be stopping in before work everyday.”

Aziraphale leaned in again to whisper, “You'd get much more than a pastry if you did.”

“Ngh- Mm, right. Course.” He was surprised the fork in his hand hadn't bent from how tightly he was holding it, trying not to just grab Aziraphale's lapels to haul him in and find out if the chocolate in his scent was just as intoxicating when he could also taste it on his tongue.

Warlock regarded them with a wrinkled nose. “Are you guys being gross?”

“We're flirting quietly.” Under the table, Aziraphale’s hand found Crowley’s thigh and squeezed. “Which is entirely different.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yup,” Crowley said and cleared his throat. He wanted to spread his legs, encourage Aziraphale’s warm hand higher, but Warlock's presence stopped him. He ran his tongue over the tines of his fork instead. “You didn't want to hear it, so we'll flirt amongst ourselves.”

“Yeah except you blush so red it matches your hair. So I still have to see it.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “You could always explore, but we won't drive you away, my dear boy.”

“Nah, just tease you mercilessly.”

“Oh, you devil.” Aziraphale squeezed his thigh again. “Eat your cake.”

“The devil to your angel, then,” he teased, but did eat more of his cake.

“Well... Everyone needs balance,” Aziraphale murmured.

“Is that what I do? Balance you?”

“We'll see. You do make me very happy.”

“Oh, angel, I-” He couldn't say he'd already fallen for him, that his heart felt full and warm when Aziraphale was so much as nearby. They'd only actually physically seen each other a handful of times. It would be too much, too fast. “Yes. You do too. M-make me happy, that is.”

“Oh my god,” Warlock complained, gathering up his plate and wiggling off the chair. “I'm going to eat somewhere you guys aren't making goo-goo eyes at each other or whatever.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Just be sure not to spill, my dear, and bring the plate back with you.”

“I will.”

Crowley threw his head back and laughed at Warlock's retreating back. “It wasn't intentional!” he called after him between snickers.

“Whatever!”

Aziraphale shook his head, quietly amused. “Poor thing.”

“Oh, he's just being dramatic.”

“He has a right to be. But he's been very patient this afternoon. It's a good thing he doesn't know how to identify arousal yet, however, because for a moment...”

His cheeks burned and Crowley quickly looked away. “'S not my fault. You were whisperin' dirty things in my ear.”

“Hardly. I was very honest, and I don't believe I promised anything explicit.”

“Oh, of course not.” Crowley leaned over to nuzzle under his ear. “You just… insssinuated.”

Aziraphale hummed, turning his head to quickly capture Crowley’s lips. “I did. Would you like more detail on what you would get if you came to visit me for breakfast?”

“Something other than a pastry?”

Aziraphale laughed, tail wagging as cheerfully as ever. “Oh, my darling, you're such an unexpected treasure. If there wasn't a pup just down the hall, I'd give you a demonstration.”

“Oh? Something you can't do in front of a pup, then. How intriguing,” Crowley murmured, reaching up to rub his thumb across Aziraphale’s jaw.

Aziraphale tipped into the touch, purring warmly. “You'll have to appear one morning and be surprised, I suppose.”

“Yes, I suppose I will. Don't usually like surprises, but I think I might like this one.”

Aziraphale hummed, capturing his wrist so he could kiss Crowley’s palm. “You don't like surprises?”

“Causing them? No problem. Being the focus of them?” Crowley wrinkled his nose. “Not so much. Never know how to react or respond.”

“I'll remember that, then. I don't want to put you in a situation that makes you uncomfortable.”

“It's not as big a deal as it sounds, really,” he said with a small laugh. “And it's not so bad if I know something's coming… if that makes any sense at all.”

“You want to know there's a surprise, but not necessarily what that surprise is? Or when, rather? For example, if I wanted to join Warlock in planning something for your birthday, you'd want to know we have plans.”

Crowley stared at him. No one had done anything more than send a greeting card for years. “You… Y-yeah. Yeah I'd like to know something's going on.”

“Wonderful. In that vein, I would like to know when your birthday is.” Aziraphale rubbed their noses together. “Whenever you're comfortable, of course.”

“Was about to say,” he muttered. “I know it’s not on Twitter and I don't think Warlock even knows.”

“Really? He's been with you for a year, Crowley. Why didn't you tell him?”

“It's not like I'm keepin' it a secret or anything. I just-” Crowley shrugged. “Last year the death of his parents was still so fresh so I just didn't say anything and then this year when he asked at his I just said it was later in the year. Not like I'm missin' much. Haven't really celebrated it in a while anyway.” And he wasn't going to say birthday parties hadn't exactly been a priority in his last relationship.

“How much later in the year? Because birthdays are important, pet.”

Crowley sighed and couldn't explain to himself why it made him nervous. “It's- It's the thirty-first of October.”

“Halloween? Really?” Aziraphale took his hand and squeezed. “That's a very easy day to remember.”

“Yup. More fun to do Halloween now that it's gotten bigger over here too.”

“Is it? Do you dress up?” Aziraphale beamed. “I hand out full sized chocolates. I've heard most don't, so I've got something of a reputation.”

Crowley laughed. “Of course you do. I got a whole vampire get up I throw on for kids in the building. Though last year I took Warlock around at a nearby village. More like what he was used to.”

“That sounds like fun. Did he enjoy it at all?”

“He did. It was a fun surprise for him, his parents always said we didn't celebrate it over here. Which, I suppose was true when we were pups.”

“No, but the Americans have made it such a fun thing, and it is nice to have another Autumn holiday.”

“You mean other than the one we have five days later?”

Aziraphale laughed. “Yes.”

“Actually, Warlock still doesn't quite get what Guy Fawkes night really is. I've tried explaining it to him but he just says it's just like the State's Independence Day. No matter what I say he just focuses on the fireworks.”

“I would think he'd be fascinated. A tale of villainy and murderous plots. Did you travel for that as well? Some of the displays on the coasts are remarkable.”

Crowley shook his head. “No, not last year. Kept it local. We might this year, though.” He placed a hand on Aziraphale’s arm. “Maybe we could all go together.”

“Funny, I was going to suggest the same.” Aziraphale took his hand. “Spend your birthday together until you and Warlock set off in search of sweets, then take a trip? Just let me handle the details. We'll call it a birthday present.”

“That sounds wonderful, angel.” It was something to look forward to. A seed of hope that Aziraphale would still want to be together in a few months time.

“Lovely. I'll look forward to it, and I'll confirm the dates for you soon if you can take them off.”

“Alright. Shouldn't be a problem, though. That's a slow time for us.”

“Good. Shall we surprise Warlock or does he need to know?”

“Would it be terribly awful of me to say I like surprising the little blighter?”

“Not at all. He should have happy surprises in his life.” Aziraphale reached up, running fingers through Crowley’s hair. “Is it safe to assume you appreciate surprise gifts more than surprise events?”

“Heh, yeah, it would be.” He couldn't help but lean into Aziraphale’s hand, eyes drooping shut with a purr when blunt fingernails scratched his scalp. “Gifts are fine. Don't think I've ever gotten a bad one.”

“Mm...” Aziraphale resisted the urge to ask him to bring his ears out, smiling at Crowley’s sweet reaction to such a simple touch. “That's good. You should receive gifts, pet. And I'd like to present them to you.”

“I've already received a nice gift from you.”

“A tartan kerchief is just the start, Crowley. You'll let me spoil you a bit, won't you?”

“I-” It felt like so much, it wasn't as if he needed gifts and “spoiling.” He would be happy with just this care and attention that still didn't feel entirely real. “You'd actually want to do that?”

“Naturally. And Warlock, of course, though I'd prefer to have your input there.”

Naturally, he said. As if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Crowley bobbed his head and swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Y-yeah, I can- I can help with that.”

“Good. I don't want to spoil him rotten, being that I'm not, in fact, his guardian.” But he also didn't want him to feel left out. “So thank you.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Thad and Harriet got him pretty much anything he wanted, whenever he wanted. Anything less than that is a-okay in my book.”

Aziraphale fidgeted with his fork, staring down at his empty plate. “It seems to me... Well. It's hardly my place to say.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow above his glasses and covered Aziraphale’s hand. “Well now you have to tell me.”

“Not to speak ill of the dead, but from speaking with and being around Warlock... Well, it seems to me that...” Aziraphale sighed quietly. “It seems as if they gave him everything but affection and attention.”

“Yeah, that assessment wouldn’t be far from the mark,” Crowley said with a sigh of his own. “Too busy worrying about their careers and impressing colleagues to worry about the pup they made.”

“It's no wonder that he's so wary of affection.” Aziraphale turned his hand up, clasping Crowley's hand. “He really is a sweet pup under all of his attempts to be distant and his unusual version of cool.”

Crowley smiled a little and nodded. “Therapist says it’s his way of coping with the lack of it for so long. Can’t be upset about not being paid attention to if you don’t care.”

Aziraphale tsked. “Well, I'm always delighted to give him attention.”

“I’ve noticed and I’m glad you do. He… I think he needed this a little bit. Harriet was around sometimes but… Thad was especially absent.”

“Yes. He's... struggling. That isn't quite the right word, but he's certainly having some difficulty being around an alpha like me.”

“Yeah, you’re very different from Thad. He wasn’t… aggressive, really. Not often, anyway, just very larger than life. Like, take your typical American and double it.” He nodded at Aziraphale’s raised eyebrows. “I’m not even joking, it was embarrassing going anywhere with him.”

“I can imagine. That poor boy. I did wonder why he was so tense when we went out to eat last time. Really, that's part of why I suggested dining in. I thought he'd be more comfortable.”

“I think he was. Thad always had to make a big thing out of going out and then nothing they served was ever good enough. Warlock was probably worried you’d be the same.”

“For Heaven's sake,” he huffed, seeming genuinely baffled, “they're only people doing their jobs. If the food isn't up to snuff, one only has to not return. It isn't difficult.”

Crowley raised his hands. “Don’t gotta tell me. I’d rather not cause problems if I can help it.”

“Oh, I'm sure. You'd rather be mischievous,” he teased.

“Maybe, if the mood strikes.” Crowley nudged their shoulders together. “Trip up a rude customer or two.”

Aziraphale laughed. “If that's an offer, I accept.”

“Not that you’d need my help. I’m sure you handle your own customers just fine, but I can definitely offer my services.”

“If the opportunity presents itself, feel free to shoo away whomever you like.” Aziraphale leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I think you'd enjoy the reward.”

“Oh-ho, a reward? You’re making quite a few promises, angel.” He turned his head to rub their noses together. “Careful, I might not want to leave this shop.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I should think of more promises then.”

He couldn’t possibly mean that. Surely he’d get tired of all the company, would get tired of Crowley. “Wellll- If you’re not busy this weekend you could keep me all night.”

He could practically hear the doubt in Crowley’s mind. It was loud and, though he wanted nothing more than to make it go away, Aziraphale knew he'd need time. Only time would convince him that Aziraphale wouldn't grow tired of him. How much remained to be seen, but Aziraphale could be very patient. “I'd like that very much. Saturday, I presume?”

“Would be easiest, I think. Unless you have something else going on.”

“No. Even if I was going to be busy, I'd clear my schedule for you.”

It made something warm unfurl in his chest that Aziraphale would make him a priority. It was still early in the relationship, so perhaps it shouldn't have been as surprising as it was, but it was still nice. “Then I think we have another date, angel.”

“We do. I'll have dinner waiting,” he promised. “Once I have you, I won't let you leave again for the night.”

“I will definitely be looking forward to that. Tracy can stay with Warlock so there will be no interruptions to our night together.”

“That sounds wonderful. If there's an emergency and you're not stuck on my knot, you're free to go.” Aziraphale lifted his hand, lips smiling as they lingered over his knuckles. “Otherwise, you're all mine.”

Crowley’s cheeks warmed and he knew he was already Aziraphale’s. Or, at least his heart already belonged to this charming alpha. “I'll be sure to tell Warlock he's not allowed to get sick or break any bones.”

“Let's hope he listens. You know, my dear, I don't know how I'm going to get through the week with that to look forward to.”

“I'm sure you'll manage,” Crowley murmured and tucked a stray curl behind his ear. “You do have a few pictures to tide you over until then.”

Aziraphale’s ear twitched. “I certainly do. Did you still want one or can you wait until Saturday?”

“I am… extremely curious about what you have under all these clothes,” he said and placed a hand on Aziraphale’s chest, feeling his warm beating heart. “But I very much want to see you in person.”

“Saturday, then.” Aziraphale reached up, holding Crowley’s hand there as scent and gaze flared with possessiveness. “I want you in my nest,” he purred, “open and wet and howling for me.”

Crowley could feel his face turning red. Now that he knew what Aziraphale’s nest looked like it was all too easy to imagine being spread out on plush sheets. Taken and filled by an alpha that he couldn't help but think of as mate. “Ngh- Mmhmm. Anything for you, alpha.”

“I know you’ll be a very good boy,” Aziraphale murmured, voice a low rumble. “Will you bring your ears out for me? Let me stroke your pretty tail?”

He nodded quickly. With Aziraphale’s scent so rich, laced with desire, Crowley thought he might do almost anything he asked. “C-course I will.” He blinked and his ears and tail twitched as they were brought out.

“Oh, you sweet omega, I meant Saturday. But I’m always happy to see them.” He reached up, thumb rubbing against the silken fur of his ear. “You’re precious.”

Crowley froze, ears folding back despite wanting nothing more than to lean into his hand and encourage the attention. Of course he’d meant Saturday. Of course. “Sssorry. I-I-I wasn't thinking. Obviously. I-”

Aziraphale hushed him gently, cupping his cheek. “It’s alright. You’re so eager to please, pet. That doesn’t make you foolish. I think it’s adorable.”

He certainly felt like a fool. It might be adorable now, but in his experience the novelty didn't last and quickly turned into needy. “R-right. Adorable. Usually aim for sexy, myself.”

“You’re certainly that.” Aziraphale pushed back from the table, giving himself enough room to carefully guide Crowley off the chair and into his lap. He stroked his back gently, nuzzling his cheek. “I mean it, you know. You’re not foolish, Crowley. I know I have an effect on you, and I adore how much you want me.”

“Don't gotta coddle me,” Crowley muttered, but didn't pull away. He wanted the contact too much. “I can reign it in.”

“I’m sure you can.” Aziraphale cupped his chin so their gazes could meet. “I know this is a lot to ask of you, dearest, but I’d like it if you didn’t. I know people in your past have hurt you, but I’m not them. I’d like us to discover my boundaries together instead of you placing limitations on me.”

“Not tryin' to.” The want to run away and hide was at war with the want to do as Aziraphale asked. He wanted to protect himself but also wanted to be a good mate. Doing both wasn't possible and Crowley ended up with his forehead on Aziraphale’s shoulder, fingers clenched in his shirt. “I'm the one who needs limitations.”

“I can’t give you those if you’re too frightened to find the boundaries, pet. Because you haven’t even come close yet. I know you’re worried, and I’m very willing to wait. I know it’s difficult for you to believe this, but I want you, Crowley. I want so much of you.”

He wanted to believe it and did, at least a little bit. Aziraphale certainly wanted him physically and he was still here, holding him and listening. “You have me,” he whispered. “As much of me as you want.”

“Alright.” They would see. Aziraphale didn’t think it was going to be as simple as one or two reassurances. But if Crowley didn’t get tired of him, Aziraphale couldn’t imagine he’d have enough of Crowley. “Since you brought it out for me, may I stroke your tail?”

Crowley nodded, cheek rubbing against his shoulder as he did. “Y-yeah, you can. I don't mind.”

Aziraphale nuzzled his ear, purring softly to soothe as a hand stroked down Crowley’s back. “Don’t forget, pet, I did grow up with omegas. I’ve missed it,” he murmured, fingers gently sliding through the fur of his tail.

“Didn't forget,” Crowley muttered, relaxing to the sound of his purr and the stroking to his tail. It wasn't as sensitive as his ears but he still shivered. “Careful, though, I might fall asleep on you if you do that too much.”

“Oh, no, I’d have to keep you longer.” Aziraphale sighed. “If Warlock didn’t have class in the morning, I’d let you both stay.”

“Let us or insist?”

“I wouldn’t force you, but I may ask more than once.”

Crowley chuckled and nuzzled at his neck. “I don't think I could tell you no if Warlock didn't have school in the morning.”

“Perhaps we’ll try that soon. See if he has any objections to being away from his nest.” Aziraphale’s lips quirked. “My staying with you would be less of an upset for him, I imagine.”

“You could. I wouldn't mind, though…” He trailed fingers down the buttons of Aziraphale's shirt. “All our new-fangled gadgets might be too much for your old Victorian mind.”

He laughed softly, not wanting to dislodge Crowley from his lap. “Are you saying you wouldn’t help me figure it all out?”

“Of course I would, but I'd also tease you the entire time.”

“Terrible thing. Absolutely full of mischief.”

“That's me. Mischief is my middle name.”

“J’Mischief.”

“The J is silent.”

Aziraphale laughed, giving him a firm squeeze and nuzzling into his ear. “Oh, Crowley, I do adore you.”

Crowley laughed along with him and turned his head to give him a smiling kiss. “From banned from the shop to adored. I've made some pretty big steps up.”

“You have indeed. You should thank Warlock for running off.”

“Oooh, no. Might give him the idea that it's something he should do more often.”

“I should think he’s allowed to run away from your home to mine,” Aziraphale joked, eyes shining and tail swishing.

Crowley met his gaze over the top of his sunglasses. “Weelll… I suppose so long as one of us knows where he is.”

“I do have your number now. We would both know quite quickly.”

“Good. I was about ready to turn London upside down last time.”

“I have no doubt.” Aziraphale gave his tail a light, teasing tug.

Crowley jumped, the sensation something he hadn't expected, and shivered at the tingle that shot up his spine. “Ngk- Angel-”

Aziraphale’s smile went the tiniest bit wicked at the corners, his own tail continuing to wag. “Oh, I’ll have to remember that for Saturday.”

“Gonna pull my tail like playground flirting?” Crowley mumbled into his neck, hiding his pink face while the end of said tail twitched.

He chuckled, nipping his fox-like ear. “There’ll be nothing playground about what I do with you once we’re in my nest, pet.”

“I'd certainly hope so. Not staying the night to play catch and hopscotch.”

“Certainly not.” Aziraphale was tempted to slip a hand beneath his shirt, but kept his fingers relegated to Crowley’s tail. “I’m looking forward to what games we do play, however.”

Crowley pulled back just far enough to meet his eyes. “Games, hm? Should I bring sexy dice? Fuzzy handcuffs?”

Aziraphale’s brows lifted. “Dare I ask if you actually have those things?”

“Well, not fuzzy cuffs. Those are actually really hard on the-” His face turned a vivid shade of red. “Ngh- Never mind.”

“Oh, no,” Aziraphale purred, “do tell, pet. What sort of bondage do you prefer?”

Crowley was sure his face was as red as his hair. “R-ropess,” he mumbled, tail flicking. “Sssafe, comfortable.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale cupped his chin, thumb brushing his bottom lip. “To what extent? Hands tied to bedposts or something a bit more… thorough?”

“Yes! I-I mean it'sss, ah, been a while. Can't exactly do that sort of thing alone.”

“No.” Aziraphale regarded him with a quiet sort of intensity. “It's easier to do the tying, but not nearly as satisfying to practice without a partner.”

The corner of his lips twitched up. “And Someone help you if you get stuck and have to explain to a very confused neighbour why you're tied up with rope in nothing but your pants.”

“Scandalous creature.” Aziraphale kissed the corner of his small smile, pleased. “We may not get around to it Saturday, but if a chance comes up, I'd be honoured if you let me use ropes on you. Your own or you can see if what I have available is to your liking.”

“Alright,” Crowley breathed, feeling his heart pick up a tick. “Wouldn't take you for that kind of sort at first glance.”

“So I've been told.” Aziraphale slipped a hand beneath Crowley’s shirt after all, hum soft. “I'd like to roll up my sleeves and tie you up,” he murmured, watching Crowley’s expression for any signs of displeasure. “Fix your hands behind your back and position you on your knees. Ensure you could breathe, of course. I'm sure you'd look stunning after, the lines of your bindings left in your skin for my fingers to trace.”

His breath caught at the painted mental image. Those fingers, warm and steady as they were on the bare skin of his back, would surely soothe any left over sting. He groaned quietly and curled his fingers in Aziraphale's shirt. “Should let me suck you off like that. Use my mouth while my hands are preoccupied.”

“I'd let you,” Aziraphale purred. “If you'd let me fill you with one of your toys. Something big enough to satisfy.”

Crowley had to stifle a high whine. Stuffed from both ends and pleasing his alpha. “Oh, yesss. You got a bloody deal, angel.”

Aziraphale breathed in the scent of sweet arousal, stroking his back and nuzzling him fondly. “You're going to fit very well in my nest, pet.”

That was exactly where he wanted to be. “Good. I think I'll like yours. It looks very comfortable.”

“It is.” Aziraphale kissed the base of his ear. “Do you feel better?”

Crowley nodded, somewhat surprised that he actually did. Aziraphale had stopped his panicked spiralling so effectively. “S-sorry I kinda… freaked out, there.”

“It's alright, pet. I'm glad I was able to help. Even if you don't need coddling.”

“I don't,” he muttered, straightening out Aziraphale’s shirt from where he'd been grabbing at it. “But thank you, anyway.”

“You're quite welcome.” Aziraphale kissed his temple, just over the serpentine tattoo. “I have the pleasure of you in my lap, so there's no negative consequence as far as I'm concerned.”

Crowley huffed but couldn't stop the pleased way his lips curled. “Like having me in your lap, do you?”

“I do. You smell nice, and you're very comfortable.”

“Speak for yourself, angel.”

Aziraphale nuzzled his ear, purring softly. “In that case, I suppose I spoke for us both.”

“Yes. I suppose you did.” He didn't want to leave, wanted to stay here with this purring alpha who was so warm and actually made him feel cared for. Maybe someday they would have that. “Should probably go check on the pup. Make sure he hasn't gotten into anything.”

“That isn't a bad idea. Do you think we can keep our flirting in check long enough not to horrify him?”

Crowley snickered as he reluctantly slipped off of Aziraphale's lap and held out his hand. “I don't know, maybe he should just get used to it.”

“Perhaps he will.” And perhaps he and Crowley would come visit him a bit more now. Aziraphale could only hope.

And look forward to Saturday.

Chapter Text

They were going to have sex.

Which, yes, Crowley knew that's where things had been heading, had been somewhat The Point, but this whole relationship they'd been building still felt like something out of a dream. Aziraphale was nice, more than nice. He was properly good, and kind, and had shown more patience in the face of an almost-omega-meltdown than most people showed for a bloody queue.

He felt like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was too good to be real, wasn't it? No one could be as perfect as Aziraphale seemed without being a murderer, or in a cult, or some other deep dark secret. Right?

As much as he tried to convince himself to be cautious, he couldn't stop from practically leaping at his phone at every Twitter ping. Nor could he stop his heart from doing its stupid little fluttery thing every time the ping was a message from Aziraphale. He felt like a teenager texting a first crush. Aziraphale was the first person he messaged when waking up and the last just before sleep.

Shaking off the worry that Aziraphale would grow frustrated and tired of his presence, however, still eluded him. He might have wanted to spend every afternoon making a nuisance of himself at the bookshop, but that much time together would surely make Aziraphale tire of him faster and he couldn't bear the thought of not receiving that beaming smile when he walked through the door.

Only seeing him every other day wasn't nearly enough, neither was the sporadic messaging, but as he'd been told, Crowley knew he was best experienced in short bursts. Exciting and fun for a short time that quickly grew boring and clingy.

Tonight, though, would be the longest time they'd spend together in a single stretch. That is, if things went the way he wanted. Surely he couldn't fuck things up so badly between now and being buggered silly that Aziraphale would change his mind on said buggering.

At least he wasn't going to be late this time. He still had an hour before he needed to be at the bookshop and he was ready. Okay, mostly ready. There were still some nervous butterflies in his stomach; what if they weren't nearly as compatible together as it seemed? But he was showered, dressed, shaved, and had even done some downstairs maintenance. He was ready. He wished he wasn't so bloody nervous.

“Do apples go stale?” Warlock wondered from his spot on the couch. He was upside-down, phone close to his face but not actually something he was looking at. He was watching Crowley and his pacing instead.

“No, they rot,” Crowley answered, scrolling idly through Twitter while he paced and tried to remember if he’d packed everything he wanted into his overnight bag.

He frowned. “Does caramel go stale?”

That stopped him in his tracks and Crowley turned his head to sniff at his own shoulder. “Why are you asking? Do I smell that bad?”

“It's not, like, bad. But it's weird. I thought you wanted to stay over at Aziraphale's place.”

“I do. I wouldn't be going if I didn't.”

“Then why do you smell weird?”

“I'm-” He groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “I'm just a little nervous. It's nothing to worry about.”

“Nervous... because you like him?”

“Y-yes. And I'd really like tonight to go well.”

“Oh.” Warlock continued to frown at him, but Crowley could see a flicker of the wariness he was trying to hide. “Dad used to get nervous when he had to super impress someone.”

“It's not so much impress as…” Crowley sighed and came to sit next to him. “I want things between Aziraphale and me to work and… tonight's kind of important in that regard.”

With quite a bit of wiggling and some help from Crowley, Warlock sat up. “Is that why he asked me if I was okay with you staying with him all night?”

“That and he doesn't want you feeling left out or uncomfortable.”

He jerked his shoulders. “I don't feel left out. He said if I wanted to spend the night or- or if I would be okay with him staying here one night, that'd be cool.” He looked up, lips quirked slightly. “Except he didn't say cool.”

Crowley chuckled and shook his head. “Let me guess, was it jolly good?”

“Yes. He's a total dweeb.”

“Excuse you! I'm dating that dweeb.”

“Yeah, and you're nervous!”

“Of course I'm nervous!” He threw his hands up. “I like him! A lot! And I-” Crowley pulled his hands down and rubbed them over his face. “I just really, really want this relationship to work.”

“But... so does he? He said so.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Then you shouldn't be nervous, right? Like... You're both gonna try and make it work.”

“Of course. It's just-” Crowley sighed. “Sometimes it's not that easy or obvious. And sometimes you just don't fit well together, no matter how much you might want to.”

“I guess. Do you think he's nervous?”

“Oh yeah. Definitely. I'd be surprised if he wasn't.”

Aziraphale was such a weird alpha, but Warlock liked that about him. He'd rather he be weird than mean. “Aren't... Aren't you supposed to make him feel better?”

“Well, he hasn't told me he feels that way, but when I get there tonight if he is we'll make each other feel better. There's just… only so much reassurance you can give someone. Sometimes you just have to see how things play out.”

“Wait. So it's not, like, an omega thing?”

“Wha- Nooo. Nonono. Everyone gets nervous or-or worried about things and everyone needs comfort occasionally. Being there for each other is just part of an actually good relationship. ”

Not from what he'd been taught, but things with Crowley had been different from the start. “Oh.”

“It's not my job to reassure or comfort Aziraphale, but I want to because I care about him. Yes the instinct is there, obviously, but I can tell that to fuck right off if I wanted to.”

“Okay. Can we go now? I'm ready.”

Crowley checked his phone, he didn't want to show up too early and seem overeager… even if he was. “Yeah, alright. Tracy's gonna tease the daylights outta me anyway.”

“Good. If you're laughing with her, you're not gonna worry so much.”

Crowley chuckled and shook his head. He wouldn't be saying that if he knew why Tracy was going to be teasing him in the first place. “Let's go then, grab your bag. Gotta give the Madame plenty of time to embarrass me.”

“So sorry, but we are quite definitely closed.”

“Oh, I know you are. Got other things to look forward to.”

“Tracy!” Aziraphale gasped. “For Heaven's sake. I told Crowley to get a different pupsitter.”

“You most certainly didn't,” she laughed. “You want as good for that pup as Crowley does, dear, and you won't convince me otherwise. He needs some stability.”

“That he does.” Aziraphale peered out the window, smiling towards the street. “But Crowley’s doing his best, and I'd say his best is tickety-boo.”

“Oh, you. Well, just wanted to let you know he's left and on his way. Nervous wreck, he is.”

“Is he?” Aziraphale wrapped the cord around his wrist, hum soft. “Thank you for the heads up, Madame. I need to go, but do tell Warlock I said hello. I hope the pair of you have fun.”

“You too, luv, though I have no doubt you've got all sorts of fun plans in mind.”

“Tracy, please.”

She laughed. “Goodbye, Aziraphale.”

“Mind how you go, my dear. I'm sure we'll chat tomorrow.” When the call ended, he dialed something else. A number he knew by heart now. And it didn't matter to him that the drive was short. He wanted to soothe his omega. And, well, if he came across as overeager, so be it. He was eager.

Crowley was surprised when his phone rang and the bluetooth display on the dash said it was Aziraphale. He had a moment of mild panic that he might be cancelling or had changed his mind before answering. “Hey! Angel, I'm on my way right now.”

“I hoped so,” he replied, deciding not to mention Tracy's meddling. “Are you terribly close or do you have time to make one brief stop?”

“Aaaahhh, I could stop. Was there something you wanted me to pick up?”

“A spot of wine? A good red, something... sweet, I think. Dinner's nearly ready, but I've only just recalled drinks.”

“I can definitely do that,” Crowley said, relaxing in his seat and changing lanes to more easily get to the shops. “In the mood for something sweet tonight, hm?”

“Oh, without any doubt. I've made you another dessert. Something light for me to taste on your tongue,” he purred. “I've been looking forward to tonight very much, you know.”

“Have you? I couldn't tell.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Yes, well... You still are, aren't you?”

“Of course I am. I'd tell you if I was having second thoughts.”

“As I would you, pet. Did Warlock get to Tracy's alright? He isn't upset about tonight at all, is he?”

“Nah, he's not upset. Though I think that's because you promised to stay over next time.”

“I told him it was an option if he was interested, and he did seem intrigued. I think he may be curious about having my scent in his space.”

“Yeah, probably. He likes it, you know. He doesn't think I've noticed, but I've seen him taking your kerchief to school.”

“Oh...” Aziraphale pressed a hand to his heart. “That’s very sweet of him. I hope it brings him some comfort.”

“Honestly I'm hoping it makes that alpha in his class back off. He hasn't said much about it the last few days, but I can't tell if it's getting better or if he just thinks he shouldn't bother me with it.”

Aziraphale hummed. “It could really be either with him, couldn't it? Poor thing.”

“Got that right. I feel so useless like this.”

“Oh, Crowley, you aren't. There's only so much you can do.” Aziraphale sighed. “Why don't we discuss it more when you get here? Pick up that bottle and we'll have a nice meal.”

“I can do that. Red and sweet, you said.”

“Yes. I'll leave the door unlocked for you. Just lock it when you arrive and come right upstairs.”

“Anything else you want me to pick up before you have me in your clutches for the rest of the evening?”

“No. I want you here as soon as can be.”

“Well I'm pulling in to the shops now, so I'll be seeing you very soon.”

“Wonderful. Mind how you go, pet.”

Crowley rolled his eyes even though Aziraphale couldn't see it. “Bye, angel.” He knew just the wine that would fit the red and sweet criteria. A Port would work nicely.

And Aziraphale was delighted with it when Crowley arrived, quickly settling it in ice and cheerfully kissing the omega's cheek. “It's perfect, my dear, and a lovely year too.”

“Yeah, well, I do know my wines.” The butterflies were still nervously fluttering in his stomach, but Aziraphale’s easy smile and rich scent were helping to settle them.

“So I see.” Aziraphale cupped his cheeks, tail swishing behind himself. “You look lovely.”

His hands were warm and Crowley pressed into them with a contented sigh. “I did want to look good for you.”

“You always do, my sweet omega. Did you spend very long picking out your clothes?”

Crowley laughed. “Not nearly as long as the first time.”

“Good. You won't be wearing them nearly as long as usual either,” Aziraphale purred.

“Is that so?” Crowley murmured a little breathlessly.

“Unless I have something severely mixed up, yes.” Aziraphale slid a hand through his hair, lingering where his ears should be. Where they hopefully would be later. “Did you bring something from your own nest?”

“Mmhmm.” It was difficult to not just let his eyes droop shut and encourage Aziraphale to keep petting at his hair. “'S a blanket in my bag.”

“Sweet thing,” Aziraphale purred. “Go set it up however you like while the wine chills. I’ll put the finishing touches on dinner.”

“You just want a piece of me in your nest.”

“I want all of you in my nest, but a piece will do for now.”

Crowley laughed and swooped in to give him a quick peck. “Well luckily for you I'm all yours tonight.”

“Very luckily for me, indeed. You remember where the bedroom is?”

“I do.”

“Then off with you. I want to make sure you’ll be comfortable since I do plan to carry you there if you’ll let me.”

“Can do whatever you like,” Crowley murmured, heart beating a little harder. “Sure you can actually carry me, though?”

“You’re skin and bones,” he teased. “Of course I can.”

“Oh?” It felt a little naughty, going against the instincts to just listen when an alpha said something, but Crowley had never been very good at following them anyway. “Maybe I don't believe you.”

Aziraphale chuckled. He’d carried him before, yes, but it had been a short distance. “You should.” He swept Crowley up as easily as he had after he’d cut his finger on a paring knife, bag and all, and started walking down the hall towards his nest. “Distracting creature. Do you know how tempted I am to save our meal until after?”

“That's always an option,” Crowley breathed, arms going around his neck to hold on. He was being carried so easily, like it was nothing. “Do I even weigh anything to you?”

“I don’t know how to answer that in a way that isn’t insulting,” he mused. But the oven was already off, and the port was chilling. He had his omega in his arms and didn’t want to let him go. “Will you bring your ears and tail out for me, pet?”

“Instead of embarrassing myself again I'm actually going to ask: do you mean now or later?”

His own tail swished. “Now.”

It wasn't a command, not really, but Crowley still shivered as he complied. His ears twitched and tail thumped against Aziraphale’s leg as they appeared. “Could have said please.”

Smiling, Aziraphale pushed open the door to his room and barely jostled Crowley in the process. “May I please divest you of your clothes and have my way with you?”

Cheeks pink, Crowley tried and failed to smother his giggling. “Well, when you ask so nicely, how could I refuse?”

“I’d hope you wouldn’t.” Aziraphale carried him to his bed, pressing a knee into the mattress as he laid him down. “My pretty omega, right where I want you to be,” he purred, fingers skating up Crowley’s soft ears.

His eyes did close then, head tilting into the touch. He was in Aziraphale's bed, in his nest, and surrounded by his scent. Every little movement stirred it up and there was something prideful in the knowledge that his own scent would be mixed in there soon enough. “Your bed's going to smell like me. Like us.”

“Yes, it will. I’ll smell like you.” Aziraphale nuzzled into his neck, tongue teasing his scent gland. “And you’re going to smell like me. My omega,” he purred.

“Alpha,” Crowley groaned, tilting his head to expose more of his throat for him. Having Aziraphale smell like him sounded perfect, that way everyone would know this alpha had chosen him.

“Your alpha,” Aziraphale assured him, hands falling from his ears to begin undoing the buttons of his shirt. It looked nice on him, and part of Aziraphale was eager to see it on his floor. A possessive part that let his fangs slip against Crowley’s skin.

He could feel those sharp teeth, his whine high at the thrill of having them so close to his pulse, so close to where they could sink in and claim him. His own hands clumsily pawed at Aziraphale's ridiculous tartan bowtie. It was unfair that his shirt was so easily parted, Aziraphale’s warm hands exploring newly revealed skin with each button while he remained so very clothed.

The sound sent a shiver down Aziraphale’s spine. He could bite. His teeth would sink in so easily. His tongue slid over his throat instead, hands catching Crowley’s wrists to press them to the bed. “Stay,” he rumbled, pushing Crowley’s shirt off his shoulders and reaching for the snap of his denims. “Let me.”

“Not fair,” Crowley gasped, hands clenching and clenching where Aziraphale had placed them. It was a fight between wanting to touch and wanting to be good. “You already know what I look like.”

“Not here,” he pointed out, but stood back anyway to finish removing the bow tie Crowley’s fumbling had only loosened. He neatly undid his waistcoat next, smiled as his fingers started at the top button of the shirt beneath. “You do look beautiful in my nest. Is it dim enough for you to comfortably remove your sunglasses?”

“I- I think so. Yeah.” The single window had its curtains already drawn closed, the only light an antique lamp with a thick cloth shade that cast the room in a soft warm light. Crowley slipped his glasses off so he could watch Aziraphale deftly open his shirt one agonizing button at a time, red tail swishing expectantly.

“There we are. They're lovely,” he murmured, pausing when his shirt was only half-open to unbuckle his belt and undo the button only to untuck and return to opening the shirt. “And while I'm not quite as... vivacious as you, I hope I'm acceptable.”

Crowley blinked up at him, watching a barrel chest dusted with blond hair slowly be revealed. He wanted to bury his face in it, in the rounded belly that his waistcoat effectively hid too. Crowley sat up on his elbows with a raised eyebrow. “Aziraphale, I wouldn't be here if I didn't want you.”

“Yes, but as you pointed out, you haven't seen me.”

“Unless you've got an octopus going on in the downstairs department - and even then I'm sure we could work around it - then I don't think there's anything that could put me off you.”

Aziraphale smiled. “It isn't an octopus, I assure you.” He unbuttoned his trousers and eyed Crowley for a quiet moment before he let them fall, stepping out of them and neatly folding them.

No, it wasn't an octopus, but even with his pants still on there was no hiding what Aziraphale was packing. Crowley eyed him, tongue flicking out to wet his lip. “You know, when I asked over the phone, you could've just said ‘yes, I do have a big cock.’”

“For Heaven's sake, that's so crude.” He swayed a bit, then set his trousers aside. Waistcoat and shirt were shrugged off his shoulders and hung neatly before he turned back around, sock garters clinging to his calves and pants just starting to tent at the way Crowley was looking at him. “But I do.”

“Yes, I can see that.” It was tempting to reach down and snap those garters against his skin, but that felt a little mean for a first time. He sat up and reached for Aziraphale instead. “Of course you're wearing sexy garters, come here.”

“Sexy? They're practical,” he claimed, toeing off his brogues on his way back to the bed. He caught Crowley's hands, lifting them to his lips. “You, however, are quite sexy. Thoroughly so.”

Crowley grinned up at him. “You haven't seen my pants yet.”

“I've seen you in far less.” Aziraphale reached for his ears, rubbing them fondly. “Though having you here where I can smell you is even better.”

Crowley couldn't disagree with that. It was better getting to smell and touch him instead of just his own lonely hands. “You do smell good,” he murmured and nuzzled Aziraphale’s soft belly, fingers tracing over the pale stretch marks.

Aziraphale watched him, shivering at the light touch. There wasn't anything sour or disapproving in Crowley’s scent. This omega still very much wanted him. His omega. He leaned down to kiss the top of his head, hands falling to push his shirt down. “Take this off. I want to see more of you.”

“Bossy,” he teased and placed a kiss on his stomach before slipping the shirt off anyway. The fabric pooled on the bed behind him and he looked up at Aziraphale through his lashes. “Would my alpha like the trousers gone too, or would he like to do the honours himself?”

“As much as I'd like to watch you wiggle out of these tight things, I believe I'd like the honours.” Aziraphale pulled Crowley nearer the edge of the bed. “Lay back now. There we are, my pretty omega.” He hiked Crowley’s hips up and dragged the denim down his thighs, stilling as soon as he saw what was beneath. A neat trail of ginger hair disappeared into the waistband of lace panties the colour of midnight. “Oh,” Aziraphale breathed, “you perfect creature, look at you.”

Crowley’s grinned and he wiggled his hips at how Aziraphale’s scent grew thicker in the air. “Told you you hadn't seen the pants.”

“You terror. Did you want to wear something special for me?” Aziraphale tugged his trousers away, snakeskin boots hitting his floor with twin thuds. It left him in nothing but the scrap of lace, and it took every bit of Aziraphale's self-control to keep from burying his nose in the swatch and breathing in like the animal stirring inside.

“Of course I did,” he said with a wiggle of his eyebrows that definitely went unnoticed with how Aziraphale was staring significantly lower. Which was absolutely fine, he'd made his alpha want enough to get that predatory glint back in his eyes. “You can get closer, you know. I don't sting.”

Aziraphale flicked his gaze up and drew Crowley even closer to the edge of the bed before sinking down to his knees. “I'm sure you don't,” he hummed, lips closing around his shaft through the panties. He sucked wetly, dampening them. “Smug thing.”

“You like it,” Crowley groaned, head falling back as his tail swished rapidly. He could feel Aziraphale’s breath on the wet spot he'd left and clenched around nothing when a tongue dragged across the lace he was straining against. These panties were going to end up soaked through and that thought was nothing but thrilling.

“Yes.” Aziraphale breathed in that heady caramel apple scent, drenched as it was in arousal, and the subtle hint of his slick. “Heavens, Crowley, you smell wonderful.” Purrs rumbling, he nuzzled and licked at his cock through the thin fabric and let his hands glide up to Crowley’s hips or through the fur of his tail or along slender thighs, feeling the muscles jump under his touch. “Beautiful omega.”

It made him shiver at just how gentle Aziraphale was. Even when he'd pulled him to the edge it hadn't been rough and his touch now was soft, reverent, maybe even loving. “Alpha,” he gasped out, fingers flexing in the bedding. No one had ever touched him this tenderly before tonight.

Aziraphale hummed against the swatch of swirling lace patterns. It wasn't only wet from his mouth now. Lips quirking, he rolled them down enough to reveal the glistening head of his swollen length. Arousal straining and scent so very heady. He laved his tongue over the curve of him, lips wrapping around the tip to suckle.

The air was cool, but Aziraphale’s mouth was a hot point of contact. A leg kicked then wrapped around Aziraphale in a futile attempt to draw him in closer, but he seemed determined to go at his own pace and drive Crowley absolutely bonkers in the process with his steady hands and swirling tongue.

The sounds Crowley made sang through Aziraphale, made his ears perk and twist towards him in hopes of hearing more. Really, it didn’t even seem like Crowley was aware of them. Holding his hips, Aziraphale pulled him closer and slid lower. He was long for an omega, but Aziraphale took him down with a greedy ease until the panties were bunched against his chin and his nose was pressed into neatly trimmed red curls. He hummed in approval, purrs vibrating around Crowley’s cock as his tongue massaged every bit of skin he could reach. He didn’t want Crowley to come from this, but he was going to get him as close to the edge as he could.

Crowley would never have guessed the buttoned-up, prim, proper alpha was a champion cock sucker, but he'd been wrong about him before and had definitely been wrong about that. Aziraphale was savouring him. Every curl of his tongue felt purposeful, every suck calculated. He'd start at the head, gathering precome on his tongue with a considering hum, then slide down with a delighted purr. And Crowley was losing his mind not being able to move, having to take exactly what Aziraphale gave him. His hands did find their way into his alpha’s hair, fingers curled around his soft floppy ears, and tried not to die right here in this bed.

Aziraphale moaned around him when he tugged on his ears, finally pulling off entirely to pant against his thigh. “Careful, pet.”

“Ssssorry, 'ngel,” he slurred, giving Aziraphale’s ears a pet and trying to slow his own breathing.

Smile smug, Aziraphale nuzzled into his thigh. “Close, aren’t you?” he purred. “My beautiful omega. Enjoying yourself?”

Crowley huffed a shaky laugh. “Yesss. You know I am.” He gave Aziraphale’s hair a little tug. “Now get up here sso I can kiss the daylightss out of you.”

Aziraphale slid up with a small chuckle, but his took his time with that as well. Hands, tongue, and teeth worked their way up Crowley’s torso, felt him shivering with every touch. “The sounds you make are exquisite,” he murmured against his shoulder. “Those hisses are so sweet.”

“Ssshut up,” Crowley muttered with no heat behind it at all and his face hidden in Aziraphale's hair as he kissed higher. The weight of his body pressing him down into the mattress had a grounding sort of effect, helping him to breathe easy, purr light.

“There’s only one way to actively achieve that,” Aziraphale murmured, lips skating up his neck and lingering at his gland. “Well… A few ways, but my mouth’s all the way up here at the moment.”

Crowley laughed, tugging and pulling on him until their lips finally met. Arms went around his neck, a leg around his hip, just to keep Aziraphale close. And if it gave him just the right leverage to grind the heavy hang of Aziraphale’s cock with the crease of his hip, all the better.

Groaning into the kiss, Aziraphale grasped his hips and hiked him even higher to grind down. “Wicked creature,” he gasped, delving right back into the kiss as a hand slid lower between Crowley’s legs, teasing up his tail to stroke at his entrance.

At any other time Crowley might have been embarrassed at how the base of his tail was drenched in slick, at how eager he was for this. “Alpha. Alpha, please,” he whined, trying to bare down on Aziraphale’s fingers to have something, anything, to clench around.

“Good boy, good omega.” Aziraphale slipped two fingers in with little resistance, pressing his brow to Crowley’s as he added a third. “You open so beautifully, pet.” He thrusted easily, feeling damp walls clenching around him with every stroke. “Brilliant creature,” he growled, low and eager.

Crowley whimpered and rolled his hips, Aziraphale’s fingers were thick enough to stretch but not anywhere near what he wanted. “Angel, come on, I'm- mm- I'm not made of gla-ass.” His voice went high and back arched when a knuckle brushed past his prostate.

“There we are.” Aziraphale brushed over it again, deliberately massaging while Crowley writhed on his fingers. “You just want to be full, don’t you? Stretched as wide as can be and held. Joined to me.”

“Yess- Yesss, alpha, please.” He clung to Aziraphale’s back, fingers digging in with each jolt of pleasure. “Want you. Ah- Angel, I want you.”

“You’ll have me, pet. I promise you.” Aziraphale nuzzled his cheek, the relentless attention slowing to a careful stop as Crowley’s pleas grew higher and higher and his muscles tenser. His fingers slipped out and he leaned back, bringing them to his lips to clean one by one whilst Crowley watched with dark golden eyes and a prettily flushed face. “I’ll have to remember that spot when I get my mouth on you.”

“Basstard,” Crowley panted, trying to catch his breath and squeezing around the emptiness Aziraphale’s fingers left behind. “Fffuck, I was sso clossse that time.”

“I know you were.” Aziraphale kissed his nose, then hauled him up and higher in his bed. Further into his nest where his scent would seep in. “I'd like you to roll over. I don't know how well you'll take me, so I'd rather be safe about it.”

“Fuck. Yeah, okay,” Crowley whined but hastened to comply even though he thought he could take Aziraphale just fine as they were. It did mean, however, that he got to bury his nose in one of Aziraphale's plush pillows, soaked through with his scent, and could finally lift his tail and present himself like his instincts had been insisting on.

Aziraphale wasn't sure where to focus his attention. The greedy alpha part wagged its tail hungrily at the display, a proudly presented omega, wet and ready for mounting. But another part leaned over Crowley and traced the intricate design over his shoulder blades and back, fascinated by black wings inked into his skin. “Oh, Crowley, these are stunning.”

“Hmm? Oh, the tattoo.” He chuckled, tail flicking under Aziraphale’s chin. “Forget I have it most of the time.”

“They're very well done.” Aziraphale caught his tail and nuzzled into it, dampened it with the oils of his scent. “I'd call them angel wings, but you're a bit too wicked.”

“Nah, you're the angel here.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Yet you were just swearing at me,” he pointed out, hands sliding up Crowley's thighs to settle the damp panties back into its proper place.

Crowley shivered, they'd cooled not being against his heated skin but he wouldn't say the sensation was unpleasant. “Thought you'd like them.”

“I do. Very much so. If you have other pairs, I'd love to see more.” Aziraphale smiled and slipped off of the bed. Socks and the garters attached were discarded and, finally, his pants were lowered as well. Uncut and jutting proudly from a nest of white curls, his cock hung heavy and thick and bulbed at the base. His smile tipped towards shy as he gazed at Crowley, but the way that ginger tail lifted told him as much as any words. “I suppose I meet your approval?”

“Of course you bloody do,” Crowley groaned and nodded against the pillow under his cheek. He just knew with that girth it would easily make his jaw ache if he ever got his mouth on him. “Fucking hell, get over here so you can split me open with that.”

Shaking his head, Aziraphale joined him in bed again. He settled behind him, sitting back on his heels and cupping his hips. “You're soaking these panties,” he purred, “and your tail's wet. You're so very ready, aren't you?”

“Yess, I am, and if you're not fucking me in the next-” He cut off with a gasp when he felt Aziraphale spread him open, thumbing aside the black lace. “Sixty seconds I'm going to be cross.”

“Luckily for us, you have a watch. Count it down,” he dared, leaning forward to breathe in the sweet scent of his slick and then glide his tongue right over his entrance as if he were an ice cream on a cone.

Yes, he did have a watch. Yes, it was still on his wrist. No, he was not going to be looking at it or counting down to anything with how any higher brain functions flew out the window on the next swipe of Aziraphale's tongue.

“No? You're going to be good and patient instead?” Aziraphale slipped two fingers into him, let his tongue delve between them with a pleased sound.

Crowley made an inarticulate noise that was all consonants and no vowels. His thighs shook and torso slumped to the bed on Aziraphale’s next suck.

Aziraphale took it for agreement, but had to reach down and grip himself just above his knot. The smell of him, so beautifully aroused, was almost overwhelming. That sweet caramel and the crisp apple. His jaw ached, fangs trying hard to stretch even though they were nowhere near Crowley’s neck. His instincts wanted this one more than they'd ever wanted anyone else.

He bit his thigh instead, fangs scraping but not quite sinking in as he rolled the panties far enough to sink into him. Clutching his narrow waist, Aziraphale pushed up to his knees to tease his entrance with the tip of his cock. “Pretty omega,” he growled, sinking in just a little bit to get a taste of that warm, wet heat. “Mine.”

It was so close to what he wanted and at the same time not even close enough. Crowley tried to push back, to take more of him than just the tip, and whined when he found himself held fast by Aziraphale’s hand at his hip. It was barely even a stretch. He wanted more. “A-alpha, pleassse,” he hissed, whine going high when he felt Aziraphale’s retreat only to groan in relief when he returned with the same shallow intrusion.

“Sweet omega,” Aziraphale purred, easing his way forward. “Don't clench if you can manage,” he murmured, caressing his hips. “Stay nice and open for me, and you can have all of it.”

Crowley nodded, taking deep shuddering breaths in his efforts to keep his muscles relaxed. He wanted all of him, his cock and his knot, to be locked together in mutual pleasure. And he could be good, tail swishing across Aziraphale’s chest with each careful thrust and feeling every single inch stretching him open.

“Good omega,” Aziraphale purred, slowly sinking into the wet heat of him and marvelling over how easily Crowley stretched for him. How easily he opened. Like he was made for him. He leaned down, pressing nippy kisses into his back as he slowly, slowly filled him. “Crowley, you're perfect. A brilliant pet just for me.”

The sharp teeth at his back would have been an easy reminder that the body steadily filling him was that of an alpha were it not for the heady scent and the bulbous knot that pressed against his backside. He was so full. None of his toys could even come close to the real intimacy of being with another person. The heartbeat, the warmth, feeling every minute adjustment of another body. “Yours, alpha. All yours.”

“All mine,” Aziraphale groaned, finally settling fully within him. He nuzzled him softly between the shoulder blades, then kissed his way up to his shoulders and along the nape of his neck. “Pretty thing. You take me so well.”

Crowley shivered. He was A Lot. More than his toys, larger than any other previous partner, and it was the best thing he'd felt in ages. “Fffuck, you feel, mm, so good.” He squeezed around him just for them both to groan in unison. “Alpha. Alpha, you're perfect.”

Aziraphale found his hands, covering them with his own as he gave a shallow thrust. He’d never had anyone take him with such ease. “I think you’ll actually be able to take my knot, won’t you?”

“Yess,” Crowley gasped. “Yesss, pleasse.” He twined their fingers together for something to hold on to. A shift of his hips on Aziraphale’s next slow, careful thrust had him moaning and seeing stars. “Want-want it. Your knot. Want all of you.”

“Good. Good, yes, we’ll give it a go.” Aziraphale couldn’t smell anything but pleasure spilling off of Crowley in aroused waves. He rocked again, and again with a bit more speed to see how Crowley would react.

Crowley would have laughed at how proper he still sounded while knot deep in omega arse, but he couldn't dredge up enough brainpower for it. Not when he could be meeting each of those thrusts with a rock of his hips and moaning encouragement.

Aziraphale dragged his teeth against the nape of Crowley’s neck. “Perfect, pet. Keep moving with me,” he urged, speeding up and lengthening his thrusts. His eyes had to close, stunned as he was to be enveloped so completely. He wasn’t going to last long at all, his knot swelling as it battered Crowley’s rim, but that was alright. They had all night, and he’d take every chance he got to be with Crowley in any way they could manage.

It was everything he'd wanted, pinned and taken and filled again and again. His teeth a tease that made Crowley have to bite his lip to keep from begging for them to sink in and claim him. Instead he focused on the insistent press of his knot, on chasing it, on wanting all of him and finally getting that full full stretch.

Aziraphale listened to his sounds, inhaled his scent. It had been so long since he’d done this, longer since he’d been fully surrounded by desire. It was a heady combination and his fangs threatened. They scraped against Crowley’s throat when he tipped his head in a way Aziraphale’s instincts screamed was a move of acceptance, and it took nearly everything in him to clench his jaw and keep his teeth together when his knot finally pressed into that tight, warm space. Crowley’s body squeezed around it, and he growled viciously between clenched teeth as his orgasm ripped through him, as he spilled deep, deep, deep into his omega.

The stretch of his knot was just short of Too Much, but any possible discomfort was blown away by intense pleasure as the bundle of nerves inside him was pressed and held. Crowley howled on his own orgasm, from the feel of his alpha, his mate, filling him up with his seed and mating him. He slumped to bed, body wrung out and zinging with pleasure. The disappointment of not being bit was only an instinctual afterthought in the wake of everything else.

Aziraphale tried not to simply collapse atop him, but it was a near thing. “Crowley,” he sighed, nuzzling his ears. “Sweet.”

His ears twitched and while Crowley was struggling to form coherent sentences he could still express his pleasure with the strongest purr he could manage.

Aziraphale returned it, keeping himself up and letting his hands wander. He stroked Crowley’s sides, his ears, down his chest where he wasn’t pressed into the mattress. “Pretty thing,” he cooed, lips brushing over his shoulders and neck.

Crowley shivered under the attention. His touch didn't feel erotic, just steady, soothing strokes of exploration. He nuzzled the pillow under his cheek and opened a single golden eye. “You're th' pretty one.”

“Your eyes are too bleary to know that for sure, and you don't have the pleasure of looking at you.” Aziraphale kissed the opposite cheek. “I know you're purring, but do you really feel alright?”

“Mmhmm. 'S good.” He felt full and while his arse would probably be complaining later, that was a problem for future Crowley.

“I'm glad. It normally takes... time.” And practice, if it could happen at all, so Aziraphale normally had to finish without the satisfaction of his knot buried in his partner. “How are your knees? I can adjust us.”

“Down- Down would be good,” Crowley mumbled, unsure just how much longer he could hold himself up before turning into a pile of jelly. The adjustment made him hiss, uncomfortable where they were joined only for a moment until Aziraphale laid him down and settled in behind him. “'S better.”

“Good.” Aziraphale nuzzled his ears, purrs soft and low. “I do want to know if you're uncomfortable at all.”

“'M good, angel. Feels good having you.”

Aziraphale kissed his neck, settling against him with his arm secure around Crowley’s waist. “I'm glad.”

With a happy hum Crowley ran his fingers over Aziraphale’s arm. Here he was safe, secure, and protected by his alpha. “Sssorry about tempting you away from dinner.”

“Don't apologise, my dear. We did have to give the port time to chill, after all, and I have you exactly where I want you to be.”

“Attached to you and unable to escape?”

“Well... It sounds a bit terrible when you put it that way.”

“Was meant to be a joke,” Crowley mumbled and buried his nose in Aziraphale's pillow.

“Oh. That's very nice, then.” Aziraphale gave him a gentle squeeze. “I do want you with me, and attached seems to be the best way to keep you from scampering off.”

“Don't scamper off,” he muttered but clung to the arm around his waist. He couldn't leave even if he'd wanted to, which he didn't, but it still felt better to hold onto him.

“I think the most appealing thing about sharing my rut with you would be that you wouldn't leave,” he murmured into Crowley’s hair. “I don't believe you're that cruel.”

Crowley took in a shuddering breath. A whole week with Aziraphale, of this, of being held and loved and wanted. “Of course I wouldn't leave,” he whispered. “I could never… If-if that was something you wanted.”

“In my experience, it should be something you want. Otherwise you may call me the morning of and end the relationship,” Aziraphale mumbled. “Because, yes, I would adore having you with me. You have a very big responsibility, though.”

He did have a big responsibility, yes, but it wasn't that big of a hurdle. Plenty of couples needed pupsitting. “Tracy watched Warlock during my heat last year. I'm sure she could do so again.” Crowley reached behind himself to run fingers through Aziraphale’s curls, the best facsimile of holding him he could manage like this. “What I wouldn't give to spend a rut with you.”

Aziraphale buried his head in Crowley’s neck, breathing in his scent. Sweet caramel that didn't hold a hint of deception. “I don't want anything but time, pet. And, ah, the expected rut activities. But I suppose that should go without saying.”

“Angel, your knot is currently in my arse. You can say you wanna fuck till I can't think anymore, it's fine.”

“The expected rut activities,” he repeated. He wanted to reach between them and touch where they were joined, but he wasn't sure if that would be welcomed. He stroked his stomach instead, keeping a gentle hold of him. “I'd make it as enjoyable for you as possible.”

Crowley pressed back against him with a pleased hum. “Oh, I have no doubt about that. You don't have to convince me, I want to be with you.”

Aziraphale’s tail thumped against the bed in rhythmic, giddy fashion. Part of him wondered if he meant it, but that was an easy voice to smother when they were so close already. When his omega's scent was tangled so strongly with his own. “I'll keep you informed, then, as I get closer.”

“Good. And in the meantime you can make sure I'm ready to spend a whole week with you.”

“The fact that you were able to take me, knot and all, with such cursory preparation shows that you can handle quite a bit. Just how big was that toy you used on yourself in the shower?”

Crowley could feel his face turning a vivid shade of red. “Not as big as you,” he mumbled and resisted wanting to hide.

Aziraphale hummed happily, nuzzling his ears. “Lovely. I’d hate to be jealous of silicone.”

“Pfft. Not even comparable,” he said with a quiet snicker. “Silicone doesn't have hands.”

“Mm. And I didn’t even get an opportunity to pull your tail this time.”

“The night is still young.”

“That it is.” Aziraphale kissed the top of his head. “I may not knot you again tonight unless you think you can handle it. I don’t want to hurt you.”

It was a choice between not having a very very sore arse the following day and getting to have this again. And it was no contest. “Not that fragile, angel. I can take it.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Then I’ll give you time. You seemed to enjoy having my tongue in you very much.”

He flushed and ran fingers over the arm around his waist. “N-no one ever did that before.”

“Never?” Aziraphale lifted his brows. “What a wasted opportunity.”

“Wasn't the main event, I guess,” Crowley mumbled with a shrug.

“You’re the main event,” Aziraphale hummed. “Tip to tail, you should be treasured.”

It wasn't a common sentiment, not from an alpha, not that he'd experienced. And it was something Crowley had no idea what to do with. “Stop being perfect for five seconds.”

Aziraphale huffed against the back of his ear. “I’m never perfect, pet, so that won’t be an issue.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

“That is absolutely not true, but I appreciate the sentiment.” Aziraphale purred, kissing the back of each ear. “You’re closer to perfect than I.”

His chuckle was quiet and held no joy in it. If he'd been perfect, no one would have left. “I think we'll have to agree to disagree here.”

“Oh, Crowley… I think you’re wonderful. You’re very sweet and you’re beautiful and clever. You’re also rather… sassy and have so much of that rather modern flash. I suppose that would be off-putting to me at first glance, but it isn’t. I enjoy your flare. It makes conversations with you very entertaining.”

It made him want to squirm away and hide, even if he did agree with some of it. “As opposed to boring conversations.”

“Yes. I know I’m rather dull, so having you makes up for it.”

“Dull is the very last word I'd use for you,” Crowley murmured. “Old-fashioned, for sure. Definitely particular. You're also damn bloody clever, angel. You know so many things just from looking it up for your books, not to mention coming up with all those mysteries. And you've been so kind, too. To me and Warlock. Like a prince that waltzed out of a pup's fairytale and swept me off my feet. Handsome, too. Got one of those classic faces. Like-like Renaissance people used to paint or carve into marble.” His cheeks pinked, feeling like he'd said too much, and Crowley pressed his nose into Aziraphale’s pillow.

Aziraphale pressed him closer, his own nose burying itself in Crowley’s neck when he ducked his head. “I- Goodness, Crowley.”

“Can ignore me, if it's too much. Mouth tends to run post orgasm.”

“It is a bit much. I’m rather used to hearing my faults. Not… Well. You’re a very unusual, wonderful omega, Crowley.” He kissed his neck. “And even if you don't believe that, can you trust that I do?”

“Y-yeah. Suppose I can.” At least he could for now. Things could always change, but he didn't think Aziraphale would deceive him. Not about this.

“Good,” he hummed, letting out a sigh when his knot finally began to go down. “You’re still not allowed to scamper off, alright? You’re - what was it? Trapped and unable to escape.”

“And I told you I don't 'scamper',” Crowley muttered. “Besides, you promised me dinner. Can't leave before that.”

“What if I also promise you breakfast?”

“Oh, angel, you're going to spoil me at this rate.”

“I hope so. I want you to feel as special as you are.”

“You do know I don't plan on leaving tonight, right? I- I mean unless you told me to, but I want to stay.”

“I know, pet, and I want you here. I do know what ‘sleeping over’ means.” Aziraphale smiled. “Particularly the bit where it includes little sleep.”

“Oh?” Crowley asked. “Plan on keeping me awake most of the night?”

His tail thump-thump-thumped. “If my darling omega is amenable.”

His delight was infectious and Crowley laughed. “I definitely think I am. So long as my handsome alpha stays awake with me.”

His alpha. Aziraphale's tail wagged harder, something warm and hopeful lodged in his heart. “We already know I need sleep less than you. I'll have to let you drift off eventually.”

“Don't worry too much. I did take a bit of a nap today so I wouldn't pass out on you.”

“Mm. How clever of you,” he murmured, kissing his ear again. He didn't want to stop touching them. “Are you ready for me to move now, my dear?”

“Mmhmm. Yeah, I'm good.” He still groaned when Aziraphale pulled out, feeling left empty and cored out. It was made somewhat better by being able to turn around and hold onto him properly.

“I was going to get up and fetch a cloth to clean you with,” Aziraphale murmured, taking the opportunity to steal a kiss.

“Maybe I wanted you in my arms for a little bit,” Crowley whispered against his lips. “Is that so bad?”

“No, so long as you aren't uncomfortable.” Aziraphale kissed him again, rolling onto his back and pulling Crowley atop him. “And you don't appear to be.”

“Not really, no.” And what discomfort there was paled in comparison to how nice it was getting to lay his head on Aziraphale’s chest and listen to his heartbeat. “Just empty, but that'll go away in a bit.”

“Mm... It'll definitely go away when I take you again,” he teased, purrs rumbling. “My omega.”

Crowley set his chin in the middle of Aziraphale's chest and grinned at him, tail twitching. Every time Aziraphale called him his it made his heart feel a little lighter. “Yes, you'll make sure I'm not empty for long, won't you?”

“I'd be a terrible alpha if I didn't keep my lovely omega satisfied.” Aziraphale liked the weight of him, liked watching his tail flick. He especially liked those ears, reaching up and rubbing them. “You'd be beautiful riding me. Head tossed back, howling your pleasure as you took exactly what you wanted.”

It was an exciting prospect, one that made his breath catch. He pushed himself up far enough to press his forehead to Aziraphale’s. “Is that something you'd like? Watching me bounce on your cock? Getting a good show?”

“Oh, I'm sure you'd put on an incredible one.” Aziraphale cupped his hips, kneading gently. “I'd love to see it one day.”

“One day?” With Aziraphale’s hands at his waist Crowley had no hesitation in swooping in to kiss him, in parting his lips and encouraging Aziraphale to do the same. “Could have it tonight. If my alpha wanted.”

Aziraphale slid a hand down to the base of his tail, stroking. “I would hardly say no to you, pet.”

Crowley grinned down at him and ignored the slight protesting of his instincts. The thrill heavily out weighed any discomfort. “Such an indulgent alpha.”

“Yes, well, you're highly deserving of some indulgence.” Aziraphale gave his tail a tiny tug. “Particularly when it's to our mutual benefit.”

The pull on his tail wasn't painful, but it did send a pleasant zing up his spine. “And what if it wasn't? Would my alpha still indulge me if I wanted to hold him on my tongue till my jaw just couldn't take it anymore? Let him use my mouth as he wished and take no pleasure for myself?”

Aziraphale growled as soft and low as his purrs, tempted to agree right away. He wanted it. Wanted to look down and see Crowley’s mouth open wide around him. “You shouldn't offer things you can't handle, pet.”

Crowley laughed and ducked his head to press kisses down Aziraphale’s throat. “You underestimate me, mm, if you think I can't handle you, angel.”

Aziraphale tipped his head, shivering when that clever mouth played over his scent gland. “Or you overestimate how much you can fit in your mouth.”

“There's only one way to find out, isn't there?” Crowley murmured against his throat, tongue swiping across his scent. Heady and rich and alpha.

Purring, Aziraphale stroked his tail and up his back. “Mm... I'll have to let you try.”

“Yes. Yes, you will.” And even if he couldn't, it would still be fun and satisfying the want to please his alpha.

Aziraphale’s tail thumped against the bed in contented wags. “For now, though, I think you should let me out of bed. I'd like to clean you and eat. I have a robe for you to borrow, if you'd like.”

With a dramatic sigh Crowley rolled off of him and back onto the bed, wrist over his forehead like a fainting lady in one of Aziraphale's novels. “How awful it is being taken care of by my alpha.”

“Clearly, you're under duress.” Smiling, Aziraphale rolled out of bed and looked back at him before reaching the door. His smile softened as he gazed down. “You do look very nice in my nest, Crowley.”

It felt very nice to be in his nest. Surrounded by Aziraphale’s scent, soft pillows, and warm blankets. “Good. It'd be a terrible tragedy if you didn't like the sight of me here.”

“An equal tragedy would be your discomfort here.”

Crowley smiled up at him and gave a purposeful full body wiggle to settle deeper into the sheets. “I've got no problem being here, angel.”

“I'm very glad about that.” Aziraphale leaned down to cup his chin and kiss him, slow and deep. “I'll be back in two shakes of a lamb's tail.”

“And I'll be here,” Crowley murmured, tilting his head for another before shamelessly watching Aziraphale’s retreat and the way his tail wagged happily. The second he was no longer in sight Crowley grabbed the nearest pillow to rub his scent across. He wanted his alpha's nest to smell like him. An instinct as much as a want. His alpha's nest should smell like him, like the both of them. It surely would by morning, but he didn't think there was anything wrong with getting that started prematurely.

Chapter Text

Crowley wasn’t in his nest. He knew he wasn’t in his nest because it didn't quite smell like his nest. Or, at least not only like his nest. His scent was there, yes, but not as strong as it usually was and there was another scent mixed with it. It was caramel with chocolate and apple bourbon and it smelled like home.

He wasn't awake enough yet to think much further than 'alpha' and 'mate' and press that much closer to the nearby warmth and source of the other scent. It was safe here, he knew it was.

Which was how he ended up with a nose and mouth full of fur. He jerked back, surprised and confused, only to gasp when something wet and cold found his cheek. The cold was replaced with warm, but it was still wet and he groaned while wiping the wet away. Bleary eyes blinked open and while a large white wolf head in his vision wasn't necessarily all that surprising, it was still unexpected. “'Ziraphale?”

He didn't often change in his sleep. But Aziraphale was very much a wolf as he wiggled closer to the omega beside him and rubbed his wet nose against his cheek again and grumbled cheerfully. Mate. His mate. His omega.

“Cooold,” Crowley complained and tried to push him away, which the alpha was having none of. He wasn't awake enough for a proper tussle, which he would have failed at, seeing as Aziraphale was easily twice his weight, and in short order Crowley found himself pinned beneath the much larger alpha with a wolfy nose nuzzling just below his ear.

Aziraphale grumbled and woofed as he nuzzled, tail wagging excitedly. He liked having his omega beneath him, the mixing of their scents right and good and addicting. He'd spent the night with this beautiful creature in his bed, Crowley happy and pleasured and comfortable enough to fall asleep in his arms, and there was nothing better to think of in the early morning hours.

Even with the cold nose and ninety kilograms wolf on his chest, Crowley couldn't say this was an awful way to wake up. Just a new way. He wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s neck and scratched him behind his floppy ears. “Good morning to you, too.”

Aziraphale grumbled and wiggled as if he could somehow get closer, licking Crowley’s ear. His heart felt full and light, hope that this time things could be different burning bright.

“Angel!” Crowley yelped, trying and failing to wiggle away from him before his tongue could wet more of his ear. He was, however, successful in planting a kiss to the side of Aziraphale's muzzle. “All the licking aside, you are very adorable like this.”

The way Aziraphale ducked his head could easily be called bashful. He'd been called adorable as a pup, but that had been a very long time ago.

It only made him more adorable, at least to Crowley, who kissed his muzzle again. “I wasn't expecting to see you like this this morning. Not complaining, though. I don't mind.”

Aziraphale had promised him breakfast, though, and he'd been told talking to a wolf wasn't exactly riveting. That it was outright weird by one exceptionally upsetting person. But he'd said far more than that in Aziraphale's time with him, and Crowley’s words mattered so much more. He let out a soft, pleased sound, and quietly wished Crowley would change with him.

He really didn't mind, it was true. Crowley had gotten very good at talking to himself, first, then to his plants before taking in Warlock. And Aziraphale, even in this form, was way more responsive than the plants had ever been. His purrs were a soothing constant and it wasn't as if Crowley wanted to get out of bed right away anyway.

So he indulged in petting Aziraphale’s ears, much like the alpha had been petting his last night, and running his fingers through the thick mane of fur around his neck. His own purrs easily matched Aziraphale’s; a soft, unending thing that Crowley hoped expressed how he felt. He loved this quiet morning time, he loved getting to spend it with the alpha he wanted to call mate. It still felt too soon to express the depths of that, to tell him how he'd already handed his heart over, but hopefully his purrs could say at least a little bit.

They said enough to relax Aziraphale. Enough to encourage him to change so he could hold in return. He was still sprawled atop him, which let him nuzzle into Crowley’s neck and seek out his scent gland. He'd lost count of how many times he had the night before, but the second time he'd filled him, he'd had Crowley on his back like this. He'd had his teeth at his throat and had nearly bitten down. He wanted to now, but at least had the presence of mind to keep his fangs to himself.

“Good morning, pet. How are you feeling?”

Crowley hummed and slipped his hands from Aziraphale’s neck up into his hair. “'M good. You're very warm and it's early.”

“I believe it's more an issue of us staying up incredibly late.” Aziraphale lifted his head, pressing their cheeks together. He didn't ask if he was too heavy, trusting Crowley to ask him to move. “Would you like to doze a little longer?”

“Naaaah. It's fine. I'll just sleep early tonight.”

He chuckled. “I was going to start breakfast, though, so you're welcome to nap a bit longer.”

“Maybe I'd like to be in the kitchen with you,” Crowley murmured against his cheek. “Unless you'd rather I not bother you, of course.”

“I would love to have you in the kitchen with me. As long as you return here with me so we can have breakfast in bed.”

“I think that can be arranged.” Crowley couldn't remember ever having breakfast in bed. There was something sweet about that, about sharing a new experience with Aziraphale.

“Lovely.” Though he didn't yet move, comfortable with Crowley sleepy and warm beneath him. “When do you suppose you'll need to leave?”

“Ah, round noon, I think. Warlock probably won't even be up before then.”

“Oh, to be young enough to sleep in all day. Or to be you, apparently, on responsibility-free days.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Angel, you could sleep in too, if you wanted to.” He ran his hands over Aziraphale’s broad shoulders, fingers playing over warm, smooth skin. “Maybe having an omega in your bed will get you to sleep in more often.”

“Perhaps I need to have him more often, hm?”

“Whenever you'd like. Just say the word and I'll be here.”

Aziraphale kissed his temple. “Perhaps, if you haven't had enough of me, you'll allow me to join you in picking up Warlock? We can go to lunch.”

“I'd like that.” And he couldn't imagine ever getting tired of Aziraphale. “I'm sure Warlock will, too. It can be a nice surprise for him.”

“I hope it will be. Until then...” Aziraphale rose and offered his hand. “Breakfast?”

“Yes.” Crowley took his hand and let himself be pulled up with a considerable groan, free hand going to his lower back. “Breakfast sounds good.”

Aziraphale pulled him closer, rubbing their noses together. “We may have time for a nice bath, if you'd like.”

“That… also sounds good.” He supposed he should have expected the tightness of muscle and twinge in his backside after how much sex they had. Though it was still a little embarrassing.

Aziraphale kissed his cheek, then left him to scoop up the robes they'd donned for and abandoned after dinner the night before. He bundled Crowley in his before sweeping him right off his feet. “I know you said you're alright, but let me?”

His cheeks pinked and Crowley ducked his head into Aziraphale’s neck to try and hide it, though he was sure Aziraphale noticed anyway. “You've already picked me up.”

“I haven't yet carried you anywhere, though.” But he took the non-answer for agreement, so kissed his temple and carried him down the hall, tail swishing happily. “And I enjoy it.”

Crowley chuckled. “I could tell. You can't carry me everywhere, you know.” But he didn't struggle and slipped his arms around Aziraphale’s neck to hold on.

“I think I could, but I would miss watching you strut.”

“I don't strut.”

“Oh, but you do. Your hips swish with your steps, begging the eye to linger.”

“Are you sure your attraction isn't making you see what you want to see?” He asked, grinned against his neck.

“I see you just how you are, pet. A swaggering sweetheart.”

“Oohh, I like swaggering better.”

Aziraphale chuckled, gently setting him down at the table. “Of course you do. How about saunter?”

“That's the ticket,” he said and grabbed Aziraphale’s hand before he could fully draw away and held it to his cheek. “Much more flattering than strut.”

“I would say you do both, my pretty omega.” Aziraphale stroked his cheek, purrs soft.

“Swagger and saunter, yes.”

Aziraphale laughed and tweaked his ear. “Wretched thing.”

“Oi!” Crowley batted his hand away while his ear twitched. “I thought you were making breakfast, not tormenting your poor omega.”

“I could possibly do both.” Aziraphale leaned down, kissing the top of his head before stepping away. “Besides, I did offer you the opportunity to sleep.”

“And I said I'd rather be out here with you.” Though he did lay his head on his arms to watch Aziraphale putter around the kitchen. It was such a domestic thing, something he wished he could let himself get used to. Having those sorts of expectations felt dangerous, though.

Aziraphale hummed as he cooked, mixing up an easy batter for French toast and glancing back now and again just to make sure Crowley was still there. That this lovely morning wasn't something he'd imagined. He really had an omega who smelled as happy as he himself was. “Will you stop in tomorrow if you have time?”

Crowley’s ears perked, surprised out of his almost doze. “Hmm? Yeah, sure. Any particular reason?”

“Not particularly. I just know it's going to be... challenging to get some proper sleep with your scent in my nest when you're physically absent. So seeing you would soothe some instincts, but I don't want to inconvenience you.”

That was understandable, expected, even. Instinct wanted your mate nearby, and Crowley smiled softly at him. “It's no problem for me, angel. If anything it's more inconvenient for you, even if you don't sleep all that much.”

“Yes, well, I knew what I was getting into when I invited you to spend the night with me. I want your scent in my nest.”

“And now you have it. You'll have to stay with me sometime, so I can have yours in mine.”

“Whenever you like, Crowley. Though I still have yet to even see your home,” he pointed out, neatly flipping the thick pieces of toast.

No, he hadn't. There was a twinge of discomfort there, wondering if Aziraphale would like it. His flat wasn't as homey as the bookshop. Less personal. “That's a very easy fix, you know.”

Aziraphale gave him a pointed look over his shoulder. He wasn't going to invite himself into Crowley’s home. He'd already given quite a strong hint, in his opinion. “Is it?”

“Yes. It is.” Crowley grinned at him, tail swishing. “Next time I'll host and cook for you.”

“Just say when, pet, and I'll join you happily.”

Though it wasn't a surprise when the when didn't come immediately. It was simpler to have Crowley and Warlock come by the bookshop and, to Crowley’s credit, he did make an effort to have that occur more often. And, though it bothered him, Aziraphale stubbornly refused to think of it like a rejection. Crowley had more to lose inviting an alpha into his space, especially being that a pup was involved.

So he vowed to wait until Crowley was ready and happily made the arrangements for their stay along the coast. Lewes had incredible displays and a deep tradition, and it was near enough to Brighton that Warlock would surely have a fun time. So, he hoped, would he and Crowley. It was difficult to find rooms already, though, but he called in a small favour owed by one of his associates. They'd have a nice little cottage to stay at for a few days, and Aziraphale was sure it would all go swimmingly.

He hoped.

Though he was certainly happy with their relationship thus far. Crowley seemed pleased with him and Warlock didn't object to the relationship, and that was what ultimately mattered to him. His omegas were happy.

Except when Warlock wasn't, and that seemed to be an increasing problem. Aziraphale wanted to fix it, but had no idea how. He and Crowley had discussed the possibility of having Warlock switch schools. There was one right in Soho, so he wouldn't have to go far, but there had been some sort of an obstacle with the system. Something about Warlock needing to overcome adversity and not expecting Crowley to swoop in and fix everything for him anytime things got difficult.

That, unfortunately, was beyond even Aziraphale’s scope of favours.

There was frustratingly little they could do beyond being sympathetic ears and Crowley making quite the nuisance of himself at the school.

Until, of course, the children made the mistake of bringing their bullying into his shop.

Warlock burst in first, bag smacking against his thigh and scent distressed. A book halfway onto a shelf, Aziraphale stopped and sniffed the air to make sure it was his pup - Crowley’s pup.

“Hey!” another youth shouted. “You're not gonna hide in some shop!”

Aziraphale could smell the panicked flickering of Warlock's scent, a pup who wanted to hide but didn't yet have the ability to smother his scent properly. He started towards him quickly, ready to protect him from whomever had been so foolish as to try attacking his - Crowley's pup in his own shop.

“It smells like alpha in here,” one of the smarter hooligans said quietly, Aziraphale’s floppy ears as perked as could be to listen for them.

“So what? We're supposed to growl at weak omegas. It's how to teach them lessons.” Aziraphale nearly rolled his eyes at such archaic thoughts out of a pup's mouth, but then, “C'mon. I smell 'im over here. Oi! Dowling!”

Aziraphale stepped out from the shelves, eyeing the three pups. Two whose presentations weren't yet known and a young, headstrong alpha all stopped and stared at him. The little alpha puffed himself up as best as he could. “What do you want?”

Aziraphale lifted his brows. “Manners, for one. Though I suppose I shouldn't expect miracles from a trio of rude pups.”

The little alpha deflated a bit, not at all sure what to do about a grown alpha telling him he was doing something wrong. “Well, we- We're here to teach an omega a lesson. He ran in here, and he shouldn't have.”

“On the contrary, I find this is a very safe space for pups to evade wretched bullies.”

“I'm not a bully; I'm an alpha!” he protested, his friends regarding Aziraphale with clear discomfort.

“An alpha who is behaving like a neanderthal. Get out of my shop.”

“Not until-”

Aziraphale growled, loud and vicious enough to have three pups staring at him with wide eyes. “Let me rephrase. You will leave my shop. More importantly, you will be leaving Warlock Dowling alone from here on out.”

There were looks exchanged between the three of them. “You... You know him?”

“Yes, I do.” But he wasn’t quite sure how much he could - or even should - say from there. “Now-” Warlock’s scent was suddenly much closer, the three pups in front of him looking behind him, so Aziraphale turned too. “Come along, dear boy. No need to hide.”

He stepped tentatively closer, phone clenched in his fist. He’d been trying to call Crowley, but he wasn’t sure if he’d picked up or if he’d just reached his dumb voicemail or not. He was too nervous to bring it up to his ear and check, wolfen features out and very close to transforming entirely. But Aziraphale tucked him securely into his side and made him feel far safer than he had moments before. “I’m not hiding,” he muttered. “I was looking for you.”

“Well, I’m very glad to hear that.” Aziraphale eyed the three boys again and snapped his fingers sharply when he noticed a snarl growing on the little ringleader’s face. “Now that is more than enough of that, young man. You may not know what to do when an omega is in your space, but I do. You treat them well or an alpha much larger than you is going to ensure it. Now I’m going to get all three of your names from young Warlock here, and he’s going to tell me if you ever bother him again in future. I know where you go to school, and I will not hesitate to have a word with your headteacher. And she will listen to me. As will your teacher,” he growled. “This pup is mine, and you aren’t to harm a hair on his head and you certainly aren’t going to sit behind him and growl at him like a disgusting heathen. Are we quite clear?”

There wasn’t any sort of agreement, but the two followers fled. And, though his instincts were visibly going haywire at being challenged, self-preservation won in the end and the little alpha sped off without a word, the door slamming behind him.

Aziraphale tsked and straightened his waistcoat. “Hooligans,” he huffed. “Absolutely no respect for authority.”

“You growled.”

“Yes, well, that does happen when I’m irritated. But I’m not upset with you, dear boy, I promise you. I’m very glad you came.”

It was very strange having Aziraphale go from growling, angry alpha to his usual, perky self. Warlock wasn’t at all sure what to do about it, so he nodded and pushed his phone into his pocket, hanging up in the process. “They’re super jerks.”

“Well, we’ll see how long you have to deal with them after that. I’m afraid I can’t promise that they’ll change their ways, but I’ve hopefully made a dent in some terrible teachings.” Aziraphale reached out, pleased when Warlock let him ruffle his hair. “Where is Crowley?”

“He had a viewing that was taking too long, and he told me to wait at school, but…”

“Did they approach you whilst waiting?”

“Yeah.” Warlock jerked his shoulders. “And the teacher wouldn’t let me wait in her room. So I… I figured I could make it home. So I took a bus and I guess they followed me onto it.”

“Alright. It’s alright. We’ll give Crowley a call and get this all sorted. How about some tea?”

“And cookies?”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Yes. Upstairs with you, now. I’ve made some peanut butter, ah, cookies out of an American baking book I discovered recently. Betty Crocker from 1953, I believe. They’re quite scrummy, though she recommends the use of lard and I substituted for proper butter.”

“Proper butter,” Warlock muttered, but there was a laugh buried in it and Aziraphale soon got him settled in with tea, biscuits, and his homework before striding off to the sitting room to pluck up his phone and dial what had become a familiar number.

“This is Anthony Crowley.”

“Crowley, I-”

“You know what to do; do it with style.”

The harsh beep had Aziraphale’s ears pinning back and a huff escaping. “These answering machines. Goodness. Hello, pet, it’s me, Aziraphale. I’m telephoning you to let you know that I have Warlock. I’ll be heading down to lock up the doors now, so telephone me or him when you’ve arrived. There was a bit of an incident, but it’s all taken care of. No need to fret. I l-” He cleared his throat, clamping down on that particular, sudden admission. “I-I’ll see you shortly. Mind how you go. Ah. Toodles.”

He hung up and stared at his phone, eyes wide and unseeing for a moment. He’d nearly said that aloud. He’d nearly shared something so intimate and vital over an answering service. Good lord. Wringing his hands together, willing his speeding heart to slow and his scent to calm, Aziraphale turned to head back to the kitchen and pretend that he hadn’t just realised he was in love with Anthony J. Crowley by accident.

“Mr. Crowley, do you think you could show us the downstairs bathroom again? I want to take another look at the tile.”

“Cassie, come on,” said the other Mrs. Williams as she slouched across the kitchen island. “We took pictures of everything; we can just go over them later at home.”

“It's not the same.”

Crowley grit his teeth and put on his best amicable smile. “It's no problem. Take all the time you need.” Though what he really wanted to say was, “Who cares about the sodding tile!?” This should have been an easy sale. The house was gorgeous in his opinion and well above his own budget. An older three-story flat building that had been renovated and updated and turned into a single family home. It had six bedrooms for someone's sake and granite bloody countertops. Still, he led the two women down the hall and to the first of four bathrooms.

“Here we are, please let me know if you have any questions.” He opened the door to the downstairs loo for the third time and stood aside for Cassie Williams to march right past. Her alpha scent made his nose want to wrinkle - she wasn't his alpha - but it cost him nothing to just ignore it. It wasn't like she'd been aggressive towards him, just abrasive.

His phone vibrated, but before he could reach into his pocket to check, Eva Williams saddled up next to him. “I'm sorry about Cassie,” she said quietly, “she just wants the perfect home for our pups. I'm sure your alpha is just the same.”

He had no idea how Aziraphale would be when looking for a house and with both of them having well established homes it was unlikely to happen but he smiled and nodded encouragingly anyway. “There's no need to apologise, Mrs. Williams. My time is your time.” And the commission out of this would be a good liner for his wallet. “Please, take all the time you need.”

She smiled up at him and Crowley was relieved that any other attempts at small talk were thwarted by her wife calling for her. It gave him a reprieve from being The Perfect Host and a few seconds to pull out his phone. Crowley winced at the two missed calls and eight unread text messages, though that one of those calls was from Aziraphale was only slightly surprising.

Unfortunately he didn't have time to read Warlock's messages or hear any of the left voicemails before he was called back to the bathroom. Both Williams women wanted to know if the tile was ceramic and how easily it might be to replace the tub. Crowley didn't know what bloody tile had to do with raising pups but he humoured them and answered their questions as best he could.

He was glad when they finally left, promising to call when they made their decision. He hoped that call would come with an offer and not a request to see more houses.

It was very, very good that he started with the voicemails first and that it played from newest to oldest. He was glad to know Warlock was with Aziraphale, but hearing that there had been an incident set his teeth on edge. Aziraphale could say everything was fine, but he still needed to check on his pup himself. He shot a quick text to Warlock letting him know he was on his way before dashing out the door. None of the pup's texts had said anything about something happening, only that he'd got on a bus then went to Aziraphale’s, but that he hadn’t said anything wasn't all that surprising.

“He's finally coming,” Warlock announced, and Aziraphale let out a relieved sigh.

“Good.”

“Yeah.” Warlock slumped, dropping his chin onto his maths textbook. “He's, like, never this late. If he is, he usually asks Madame to get me on her scooter.”

“Oh, I know.” Aziraphale sat beside him, stroking his hair. “But I'm sure he didn't mean to take so long.”

Warlock was quiet a moment, wolfen ear twitching a little when Aziraphale’s fingers ran over it. “My mom used to say that. When my dad missed dinner or a dumb parent-teacher conference or-or whatever. He always missed everything.”

“Does Crowley being late remind you of him?”

“No. Yeah. Kinda. Except... Except he's not like my dad. He doesn't miss stuff. He keeps his promises. He... He still does all that even though he has you now.”

“Of course. You're very important to him, Warlock. More so than I ever will be.”

“But you act like I'm important too. You said... You told them I was yours.”

It took effort to keep the stilling of his soothing pets brief. He had said that, hadn't he? “Does... Does that bother you?”

Warlock was quiet for a long stretch. “D'you think it'll bother Crowley?”

“I don't know,” he replied honestly. “I hope not. And Crowley does know I care for you a great deal, just as he does. Is that something you'd like to discuss with him?”

“Maybe. You'd be a better parent than my dad.”

Aziraphale didn't consider that to be a very high bar, but his heart swelled nevertheless. “I'm flattered, my dear boy. Truly. Shall we wait for Crowley downstairs?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He sat up and started pushing his things back into his bag. “Did you tell him those jerks followed me here?”

Chased him. They'd chased him in. Aziraphale was very careful to keep his expression neutral. “No, though I did inform him of a small incident. I didn't go into detail.”

“Okay.”

He let Aziraphale lead him down the stairs and looked out the windows with him. It wasn't yet dusk, but would be soon. “If you asked him out, we could get dinner somewhere cool.”

Aziraphale laughed. “What powers you think I have, silly pup. Finish your maths,” he instructed, waiting with him until he saw headlights flicker across the street. He rose and made his way to the door just as Crowley was sauntering across the road, hips swishing and long legs devouring pavement. Such a beautiful, stunning creature.

Of course Aziraphale had been silly enough to fall in love with him.

He unlocked and opened the door, smile easy and heart uncomfortably full. “Hello, pet. Warlock's just fine,” he promised, breathing in the nerves in his scent. “Now calm down before you worry him.”

Crowley blew out a breath and latched onto Aziraphale’s shirt as he came in. It helped his nerves to be able to smell both Aziraphale and Warlock, but only just. “Yeah, I'm trying, but what happened?”

Aziraphale cupped his cheeks, hands soon sliding down to wind around him. “A few of his bullies chased him away from school grounds, and he came here. I, ah, may have told them off with a growl or two.”

“They what?” Crowley said with a growl of his own. “If I ever get my hands on those little bastards… Is Warlock okay?”

“He's perfectly fine, my dear. They never caught him, and he's had tea, a few biscuits, and has been doing his homework.”

Crowley relaxed against him with a shuddering sigh. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Aziraphale nuzzled him gently. “Now he still has his wolf features, but he never transformed fully. He's been well-behaved, so I know he isn't completely over it. But he's alright and he'll be very happy to see you.”

“Hope so. Christ, I can't believe they tried to follow him home. What are they teaching pups these days.”

Aziraphale lifted his chin, some of the quiet fury rolling out in a low growl. “Apparently, they think growling at supposed weak omegas teaches them lessons. Beyond that, I didn't pay their opinions much mind.”

Crowley huffed and let their foreheads come together. “I'm going to have to talk to the school. This is harassment and I'm not going to bloody take it.”

“If you'd like me to come along as a witness, I shall.”

“Might have to. Not like they listen to me, anyway…”

Aziraphale purred softly to soothe, rubbed the small of his back for the same. “It's alright. You're doing your best.”

“Yeah, well, my best obviously isn't good enough,” he muttered. “I can’t even protect him from some snot-nosed little brats.”

“It isn't your fault, Crowley. You've tried taking him to a different school, and you've tried speaking to everyone in authority. If they're escalating, you'll have more options now. You have me.”

It grated, knowing he had to rely on an alpha, even one he was in love with, to do something so simple as make sure their- his pup was fine at school. They were dating, yes, and things were going so very very well… but what if that changed? He didn't think he would, but Aziraphale could always walk away from this and then where would they be? In the exact same place they always were.

“I- I know, angel. I'll just- I'll talk to the school and tap you in if we need, alright?”

It stung, not being trusted to help take care of Warlock. Aziraphale swallowed that down and nodded. “Of course, pet. As you like. Now come along before he gets too... antsy, I think.”

Crowley kissed his cheek, glad he wasn't the type to try and bully his way into wherever he wanted. “Alright.” He took Aziraphale’s hand and followed him through the bookshop towards where Warlock had been left. “How's homework coming along?”

His shoulders jerked. “It's whatever. Aziraphale helped me with English. And he likes history like you do.”

“Good.” Getting Warlock to do his English homework had been, until very recently, like pulling teeth. He sat beside him on the sofa and put an arm around him. “You doin' alright?”

Warlock shot Aziraphale a look. “You said you didn't tell him.”

“Because I hadn't. He asked when he walked in, and I wasn't going to lie to him.”

He sighed heavily, but leaned into Crowley. “M'fine.”

“Alright. I'm sorry I wasn't there, pup. You shouldn't have had to go through that.”

Warlock's shoulders jerked. “It's whatever. Aziraphale’s closer than Madame.”

It wasn't 'whatever', but it was the best reaction he could hope for. “Well, I'm glad you had someone nearby you felt safe going to.”

“Did he tell you he growled at them? He actually got mad,” he said quietly, like it was some incredible secret.

Crowley glanced up and gave Aziraphale a small smile. “He didn't. That's quite the special thing, getting Aziraphale to growl.”

Aziraphale turned pink, rubbing his palms over his thighs while his betraying tail wagged and wagged. He'd pleased his omega. “Yes, well... I won't tolerate that sort of behaviour.”

“You shouldn't. They were being awful little cretins.”

“You weren't even here,” Warlock reminded him.

“No, but I'm sure he can guess. He's been in your shoes, dear boy.”

Somewhat, yes. No one had ever attempted to follow him home, but he had dealt with his fair share of troublemakers during his school years. “I can very easily imagine what happened and the school is going to hear from me about it.”

“Okay...” It was weird having two adults in his life again. Weirder still that they both listened. “I'm- My teacher wouldn't let me wait in her room. She said, like, she said I was making a big deal out of nothing, and I needed to wait where I always do.”

“Is this that teacher who's a beta?”

“Yeah.”

Crowley let out a growl and crossed his arms. “I'm going to request a meeting with the headteacher and your classroom teacher. This is ridiculous.”

“Aziraphale said if he heard about those jerks being mean to me one more time that he'd talk to 'em too.”

“Well, I-” Aziraphale linked his hands behind his back to wring them in relative secrecy, sure he'd overstepped in saying so. But he couldn't deny it, nor could he renege without hurting Warlock's feelings. “I did, yes. And I would, of course, if Crowley allowed it. And was present.”

He wished he could be nothing but proud that the alpha he was choosing wanted to protect their- his pup. And he was glad Aziraphale wanted to be involved, but it still stung that everyone had been right. He couldn't do this on his own. “Yeah, well, no one wants to get between an alpha and their pup- Er, I mean, a-a pup they care about.”

“Yes. Really, I'd be more frightened to cross an omega and his pup. My mothers could be... Well. They were horribly frightening when anyone crossed me.” Aziraphale’s smile returned, something soft and fond with memory. “If the courts weren't holding you back, Crowley, I have no doubt you'd be just as fierce. If not more so.”

“You have no idea how frustrating it is having to be on my best behaviour,” Crowley grumbled in a mocking tone. “But I swear to Someone I'm going to rip that teacher a new arsehole at this rate.”

“Whoa.”

Aziraphale chuckled, shoulders relaxing as he stepped closer to them and reached out to stroke fingers through Crowley’s hair. “Best of luck, pet.”

The touch was more than welcome and Crowley tilted his head into it. It was a soothing thing, helping to calm his agitation. “Thankss. Glad to have you on our side.”

“There's nowhere else I'd like to be than right beside you,” Aziraphale murmured.

It made his heart flutter and a warmth fill his limbs. He tipped forward to rest his head on Aziraphale’s middle and huffed a small laugh at the annoyed groan from Warlock. “Oh, stop that. Let me have this. Not like we're kissing in front of you or anything.”

“Yet.”

Aziraphale chuckled, gently scritching Crowley’s scalp. “We’ve decided to wait until you’re a bit older before we start that,” he teased. “Heaven forbid you see something perfectly natural before you’re prepared.”

“You’re both weird.”

Crowley purred easily and said, “And you love us for it,” before he could think better of it.

Aziraphale’s breath caught, but Warlock didn't seem to notice. He just rolled his eyes and huffed. “I guess. Can we get food now? I'm starving.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright. Far be it from me to tell a growing pup he can't eat.” He reluctantly pulled away from Aziraphale to smile up at him. “Wanna join us, angel? My treat.”

“Oh, I’d love to come along.” Though he didn’t know what to say about Warlock’s lack of denial. He knew as well as Crowley that the petulant response was as good as an agreement and it left him a little stunned. Of course he loved them, but for even half of them to love him in return seemed unthinkable. “If, ah, if it isn’t an imposition.”

“I invited you, of course it isn't.” Crowley grabbed his hand and held it to his cheek. “I wouldn't have asked if it was an issue.”

Aziraphale stroked his cheek. “Alright, pet. We’ll go wherever you like.”

“Great!” Crowley hopped up and swiftly kissed his cheek. “Let's get Indian. I'm in the mood for something spicy. Curry, maybe.”

Aziraphale’s tail swished as he smiled at him. Oh, yes, he did love this silly creature. As frightening a thought as that was, he loved him immeasurably. “That’s more than acceptable.”

It was perhaps a little ridiculous to feel proud over dinner plans being so easily accepted, but there was still a part, a quickly fading part, that expected rejection. “I was hoping you'd say that. I know a little place, not too far from here, actually.”

Warlock fell quiet after they left Aziraphale at the bookshop later that night, but he did squeeze his way into the front seat over Crowley’s objections. He didn’t really mean it. To keep Crowley from talking to him, he turned up the music and let Queen play over the speakers even though it was old music and not, as far he knew, particularly cool.

It was definitely overplayed, though, as it was usually the only CD Crowley could find at any given moment, but something had occurred to him during a pause in the conversation over curry. A pause brought on by his own wonderings as to when Aziraphale was going to come over to their place instead. Both adults had gone quiet with Aziraphale breaking the silence by assuring Warlock that he’d be happy to visit at any time, and then a quick - a very quick - change of subject.

He didn’t know what to think about it, especially since Crowley had gotten out of the car like he always did after these dates to kiss Aziraphale like Warlock couldn’t see them. It had all seemed normal besides that one lapse, and he didn’t know what to think about it. Especially not in context with what had happened after school.

Wondering what exactly to do or how to bring it up to Crowley without bugging him kept Warlock preoccupied as he got ready for bed, Warlock quickly avoiding any and all attempts Crowley made to talk to him. He wasn’t ready yet and he stayed not ready until after he was supposed to go to bed.

Instead, he fidgeted with his pyjama pants in the same way he’d seen Aziraphale do a few dozen times. “Do you not, y’know, like Aziraphale anymore?” he wondered.

Crowley raised an eyebrow at him from where he was sprawled out on the sofa. He could tell something had been bothering Warlock, he never outright avoided him unless there was. He hadn't expected this particular question, though. “Course I still like Aziraphale. Wouldn't've asked him to come to dinner with us if I didn't.”

“You haven’t stayed the night with him again,” he pointed out, still dancing around the root of his real question.

“We're both busy adults and Tracy's got her own life going on. You know this.”

Warlock’s shoulders jerked. “Do you want to?”

“Wha- Yes. Of course I do.” It might have only happened once, but falling asleep in Aziraphale’s arms had been the best sleep he'd ever had and he craved to have that again. Knotted and safe and wanted. It had been more than he could have hoped for. Crowley sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Why are you so curious all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know. Are you mad about what he said to the guys from school?”

“No. He was protecting you, there's nothing about that to be mad about.”

Warlock frowned at him, still confused. Nothing made sense yet. “Is he secretly gross or something?”

Crowley snorted and shook his head. “He's definitely not gross. Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Then… why can’t he come over?”

Ah, there was the real problem and Crowley wished he had an easy answer. “It's… complicated, pup.”

That wasn’t good enough. “Complicated how?”

He hadn't exactly expected Warlock to drop it, but wishful thinking. Crowley sighed and rubbed at his face again. “It's just- I- One of the things I'm really bad at is trusting people. And while I don't think Aziraphale would hurt you or me, not on purpose anyway, I still… struggle to not put the walls up and push him away to protect myself.”

“So you, like, want him to visit, but you won’t let him?”

“Er, sort of? Told you, it's complicated, and doesn't even make sense in my own stupid head.”

Warlock wrinkled his nose. “That’s dumb.”

“Thanks,” Crowley muttered. “I'm workin' on it, I promise. It's just taking me some time to work up the nerve to ask.”

“You’re both way too patient for stuff. He’s an alpha. He could just, like, tell you he’s coming over.”

“He could, yes, and because it's Aziraphale I'd allow it. Any other alpha tried that and they'd have a very bad time.”

Warlock huffed, something of a laugh in the sound. “Yeah. It was really cool, though. Earlier. He actually acted like an alpha, and I thought Jack’s head was gonna pop.”

“I told you he could, he just prefers to be softer than that.”

“Whatever. It was still cool. And it felt kinda… It was- It was, like, safe? Even though he was growling and smelled mad. He tucked me in right next to him, and it- I didn’t mind. It was okay.”

Crowley chuckled and nodded along. He understood very well how good it felt to be protected by an alpha who cared for you. “Yeah, your instincts knew he wasn’t growling at you. It's nice when it's not directed at you.”

“Yeah. Even Jack’s friends were scared.” He slumped against Crowley’s side a little only because he knew he was welcome. “I don’t know what they’re gonna do tomorrow, though.”

“We can't control what they do, only what we do.” He wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Tomorrow I'll keep my volume all the way up and if they give you even a smidge of trouble you call me and I'll show up no matter what.”

“Okay. Did you answer when I called you earlier?”

“No, I didn't. I'm sorry. I thought you were still at the school.”

“No. I was at Aziraphale’s already.”

At least he'd been somewhere safe, that was what mattered. “Kinda figured that after the fact. With how close your call and his was.”

“Yeah.” Warlock stayed slumped against him for another moment, soaking up the familiar attention and wondering what it’d be like if Aziraphale was there too. Hopefully Crowley would stop being dumb soon so he could be. “I’m going to bed.”

“So soon? And without me needing to shoo you off? My, you're growing up fast.”

“Shut up. You’re weird.” Warlock shoved him and wiggled off the couch, rolling his eyes.

“Weird and proud!” Crowley called after him, his grin only falling once Warlock was out of sight. He needed to get his stupid issues under control, it wasn't just affecting him now but Warlock too. And that just wasn't acceptable.

He thought about sending Aziraphale a message, pulled out his phone and stared at the little blue Twitter icon. It would be so easy to just ask if he wanted to stay over the weekend, but also so very hard to ask for what he wanted even if he knew he'd get it.

Crowley opened his voicemail instead. It wasn't stalling just… getting rid of annoying notifications. It played and he heard muffled shuffling, a voice that sounded like Warlock's but was too faint to make out clearly. He was even more glad Aziraphale’s had played first; hearing this would have worried him something awful. Then he heard Aziraphale, clear as day and telling off who he could only assume was the alpha boy and his cohort, a growl in his voice that made Crowley’s heart sing.

He was a good mate. It was one thing to hear about it secondhand and quite another to hear Aziraphale growl, “This pup is mine,” right in his ear. It brought tears to his eyes that he quickly blinked away. He couldn't possibly deny Warlock the chance to have an alpha in his life who cared about him that much. Who clearly loved him.

The voicemail was saved, sent to his phone's archive where he could listen to it whenever he wanted. It was a precious thing, something to cherish. Crowley then opened up Twitter before he could talk himself out of it.

Hey. I want you to stay over this weekend.

Chapter Text

He knew that the night wasn't going to be quite as filled with the lovemaking and debauchery that their previous night together had, not with Warlock also there for the night, but Aziraphale’s nerves still fluttered just as strongly as they had then. Saturday morning, as he watched the now-familiar Bentley pull up to the kerb, he felt butterflies pummell his stomach lining and send his heart into a flurry.

He had his bag packed and on the floor beside him - a vintage carpet bag from 1920s America with a pattern he imagined Crowley would only describe as hideous. Or, more likely, some more hip-sounding word Aziraphale was too eager to think of. His tail wagged when the driver's door opened, his long-legged omega rising out of the car.

Aziraphale clasped his hands together and leaned closer to the window, smile as bright as could be. A night in his omegas' home. In Crowley’s nest. And a whole day ahead to share with the pair of them.

He waved cheerfully when dark sunglasses were turned his way, excited enough that holding onto humanity was proving difficult.

Crowley grinned at him and jogged up to the door, his own stomach fluttering just as much. He'd never brought anyone home before, it had seemed too personal, too intimate. It was so much easier to leave his scent somewhere else for someone else to deal with.

Aziraphale would be the first.

And he wasn't surprised when he opened the door to the bookshop and was greeted at the threshold by a wolf whose tail was wagging hard enough to move his entire body. Crowley knelt for him and received a lick from chin to ear for his trouble. “Hey, angel. I see you're happy to see me.”

Aziraphale grumbled, apologetic but so very excited. His front paws wouldn't settle, nails delicately clicking the floor as he hopped from paw to paw. Omega. Mate. His mate.

Crowley chuckled and hugged him around the neck, nuzzling into the fur just below a floppy ear. “I'm happy to see you, too. Got everything ready to go?”

Aziraphale rumbled something that sounded like an agreement, trying to quell his wiggling enough to get closer. His mate was not only there, he was going to take him along. Time with his mate and their pup. Crowley's pup. Their pup. The canine instincts couldn't make the distinction, not when he loved both of them as much as he did.

His excitement and delight was thick in his scent and Crowley couldn't help but laugh at the way Aziraphale tried getting as close as possible. At least, until he quite literally couldn't keep himself up anymore and landed on his back with an “Oof.” Which was apparently just fine with Aziraphale as he laid atop him, his tail a wagging wolfy motor. “Just going to keep me here, then?”

Aziraphale barked, a deep sound of clear enjoyment, and settled atop Crowley with an equally pleased grunt. His wet nose smushed itself against Crowley’s cheek in a facsimile of a kiss.

“If I'd known you'd be this excited I'd have invited you sooner.” Which wasn't necessarily true, but Aziraphale's obvious delight easily helped soothe his own errant worries and nerves. If his alpha wanted this this much, everything should be just fine. “As much as I do enjoy our current arrangement, we do have a pup waiting for us back at the flat.”

Aziraphale sat up quickly, human almost before he'd fully done so. He ended up straddling Crowley's waist, hands on either side of his head. His cheeks were a firm red. “Ah. Yes. So sorry about that.”

Crowley laughed and tugged him down for a kiss, enjoying the familiar weight. “It's fine. You're very cute when you're excited.”

“I was... a bit over eager, admittedly.”

“Nothing wrong with that. It's very flattering.”

“I should hope it isn't insulting to have your alpha pleased to see you.” Aziraphale kissed his cheek before getting up and holding out a hand. “Up you pop, pet. As you said, we have a pup waiting for us. Is he still asleep?”

Crowley took his hand and let himself be pulled up chest to chest with his alpha. “Are you kidding? The little bugger was awake before I was.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “I'm flattered that he's so excited. We don't even have anything particularly exciting planned for today unless you've arranged something I'm not aware of.”

“Considering I think he plans on showing you every single one of his video games I'll be lucky to pull you away from him for even a second. Thought some board games and another walk at the park might be good, too. Sorry we aren't too exciting.”

“No, that sounds quite thrilling. I've never played a video game before.”

Crowley laughed and passed him to pick up his bag from the floor, an utterly awful tartan monstrosity that he couldn't help but snicker at. “That doesn't surprise me in the least. I think he’s mostly looking forward to having someone to beat at MarioKart. He doesn't like how good I am at the drifting speed boosts.”

Aziraphale’s smile didn't hide his utter bemusement in the least. “I see.”

“You have no idea what any of that meant, do you?”

“I understood most of the words individually, but in combination, you've lost me.”

He laughed again, delighted by him, and pressed a light kiss to Aziraphale's cheek. “That's alright. You’ll have plenty of time and help to figure it out.”

“Yes. And my favourite two people about to teach me.” Aziraphale took his free hand. “Thank you for inviting me to stay, Crowley.”

“No need to thank me, angel. I'm just sorry it took me this long to ask.”

“It's alright, my dear. I do understand.” Aziraphale squeezed his hand. “I'm an alpha entering an omega home, and one of the occupants is a pup. I know you wouldn't allow just anyone into your space.”

“Well no, but also…” Crowley sighed and dipped his head to rub their cheeks together. “I had to work out some of my headspace problems first. I'm glad you've been patient with me.”

“Oh, Crowley... I'd be a terrible partner if I wasn't. The least you deserve is patience.”

“Yeah, well, I'm glad nonetheless.”

Aziraphale turned to kiss him, soft and as soothing as the purrs he let rumble. “Let's be off, shall we?”

“Yes,” Crowley said, but stayed still a moment longer soaking in Aziraphale's scent, his nearness, his purrs that offered nothing but comfort and affection. He then squeezed his hand and pulled Aziraphale from his bookshop; they had a pup to get home to after all.

A pup who was anxious and trying very hard to be fine. He'd cleaned his room twice already, antsy about the state of his nest. He'd been the same the first time he'd shown it to Crowley, seeking the approval of an adult who knew what they were doing. Crowley had assured him it was fine, but Aziraphale was an alpha and that made things different.

When the lock turned and the door opened, it was all he could do to keep from shooting off the couch to drag Aziraphale further inside and left no room for him to keep from transforming. He yelped and smacked a small paw on his controller to pause his game, then scowled as well as a pup could at the screen.

Big hands soon reached down, stroking through his fur while Aziraphale’s chuckles hovered over him. “Good morning, Warlock. I suppose we're rather excitable this morning, aren't we? I transformed on poor Crowley earlier,” he admitted, and Warlock liked that. He liked that Aziraphale admitted to his sillier moments. It made his own seem less monumental.

Crowley laughed and shook his head at the pair of them to distract from how knotted up his stomach felt. There was an alpha, his alpha, in his home. It was nerve wracking and exciting all in one. “Here, angel,” he said, hands going to Aziraphale’s shoulders, “Let me take your coat.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Aziraphale handed it off with a smile. They'd heard the yelp and had both rushed into the flat to seek whatever was the matter. That nothing was held relief, but now nothing could distract Aziraphale from the scents surrounding him. He was in a cocoon of apples, caramel and toffee adding a combined sweetness that made his mouth water.

It also made Aziraphale want to drag Crowley into his room where the caramel apples would be strongest, where he could pull Crowley down onto his knot and coat his mate in his own scent. Add bourbon and chocolate to the mixture. “It's a lovely little place, Crowley.”

He didn't miss the sharp spike of Aziraphale's scent and threw a knowing grin over his shoulder. “Not as homey as your place, but we make do.” Crowley hung his coat on the rack by the front door and he liked the way it looked next to his own black one. Like it belonged there. He scooped up Aziraphale’s hideous carpet bag from where he'd dropped it in his haste to check on Warlock, and when he returned to the living room, it was to find Aziraphale on the sofa with Warlock’s shaggy head on his knee.

He liked that too, stopping in his tracks to watch Aziraphale softly pet down his back. His alpha and his pup together in his space. It made something warm and soft unfurl in his chest and he was hard pressed to keep the stupidly fond smile off his face.

“We’ll have to spend some wolf time together at the park,” Aziraphale murmured, scratching Warlock behind the ear while his little tail swished in agreement. Aziraphale beamed down at him, his excitement fading into simple pleasure. The pup was safe and sound on his knee, not a whiff of distress on him even though there was a new alpha scent in his space, and the easy acceptance filled his heart even further.

Crowley felt a little bit like an idiot for even thinking something would go wrong. Of course Aziraphale would fit perfectly with them, they both wanted him here. He dropped the bag beside the sofa - there would be plenty of time to take it to his room - and slipped in on Aziraphale’s other side, resting his cheek on his shoulder. “Mind if I join you?”

Aziraphale nuzzled into his hair, kissed the top of his head. “Never.”

“Mm, good.” He briefly closed his eyes, basking in the moment and how right it felt. When he opened them again a grin spread across his face at the way Warlock was squinting up at him. “Yes, that's right! You have to share. Awful, I know.”

Warlock grumbled, soft and disgruntled, and Aziraphale chuckled. “Luckily for you both, there’s plenty of me to be shared. Now don’t tease him, Crowley.” He kissed his temple, purrs rumbling at having both of his omegas near. “You terror.”

“Not teasin',” Crowley murmured, purrs matching his. “Just makin' sure the expectations are clear.”

Aziraphale smiled, slipping an arm between him and the couch so he could cup his hip and stroke his side. “Of course you are. Just have to tell a competing omega who’s in charge,” he teased.

Warlock barked, a squeaky sound that managed to sound thoroughly annoyed by them both. They each knew he was calling them weird in his own way.

“Yes, exactly. Gotta show my pup who's boss.” He laughed at the second little bark and happily settled in against Aziraphale’s side. Held, safe and warm, exactly where he wanted to be. “Alright, alright. We'll leave you alone. No need to get all pouty, pup.”

“Pouty seems to be his preferred state of being.” Aziraphale laughed when Warlock swatted paws at his hand in retaliation.

“Watch out there, angel. We have a fiesty one.”

“Oh, my. Whatever shall we do with him?” Aziraphale wondered, rolling Warlock onto his back to playfully tickle and carefully roughhouse with him while he tried to nip and swat and wriggle his way free.

Crowley watched them fondly. He could see himself getting used to this. Waking up with Aziraphale, lazing around in the morning, playing with their pup. Being a family. It made a lump form in his throat at just how much he wanted it.

Squeaky pup growls and barks eventually turned into human laughter, Warlock attempting to shove Aziraphale’s hands away with a gasp of “Nooo!” when they found his sides.

Aziraphale laughed, slowing when Warlock’s face turned a neon red and his laughter breathless. That seemed like enough. “Well. Good morning, Warlock.”

“You suck,” he complained, panting, but he didn’t try to squirm away since the tickling had stopped.

Crowley had to bite his tongue against the very inappropriate response that threatened to follow. “Maybe, but you still laughed.”

Aziraphale sent Crowley a knowing smile. None the wiser, Warlock huffed. “I wasn’t laughing. They were just weird screams.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” Aziraphale chuckled. “Though they did sound terribly close to your laughter, pup.”

“Don't listen to him, angel. That was definitely laughter.” Crowley grinned when presented with a glare from Warlock. “It's alright to admit you were enjoying the attention.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, staying right where he was when Aziraphale ruffled his hair. It wasn’t bad having him around.

“In any case, we seem to have interrupted… something.”

“It’s Mario. The Koopa was about to knock me off a cliff.”

“Ah.”

Crowley wrapped an arm around his shoulders and decided to play translator. “Mario is the name of the game and name of the little guy in red. The Koopa is the turtle lookin' bastard who works for the even bigger turtle bastard who stole Mario's princess.”

“Bowser. He’s the King Koopa. And he doesn’t kidnap Princess Peach in this one. He kidnapped the Sprixie Princesses.”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley, as amused as he was befuddled. To him, Warlock was speaking nonsense, but he sounded incredibly sure of himself. “It sounds terrible.”

“I guess. But you can play as Princess Peach in this one if you want, so that’s different.”

“Finally giving the poor gal some agency, took 'em long enough.” Crowley threw a leg over one of Aziraphale's knees and watched Warlock unpause only to be knocked right off the cliff by the Koopa. “Honestly, angel, this is one of the more straightforward ones. Princess is taken, go save her, avoid monsters on the way.”

“Wanna watch?” Warlock wondered, looking over through his bangs.

Not wanting to hurt his feelings and admittedly curious, Aziraphale nodded. “I would,” he decided, laying a hand on Crowley’s thigh. He didn’t mind the nearness. “It does sound intriguing.”

“It's pretty fun, actually. Though some of these newer ones confuse even me and I've been playin' 'em for nearly thirty years.” On the TV, Mario hopped across a series of the mushroom-looking goombas.

“Mmhm. Do you like these video games, then?” Aziraphale encouraged Crowley to adjust, getting both of his long legs across his lap.

It felt almost possessive to be draped over Aziraphale as he was and that he'd obviously wanted it was even better. “They're not bad. Was one of the first games I played as a pup so there's the nostalgia factor.”

“Oh. So these characters are in other games?”

“A lot of other games. Like MarioKart. D- Er. Uh. Crowley said you’d maybe play that with us.”

Aziraphale looked at the screen with its bright, wildly flashing colors and wondered how on Earth anyone followed it. “Well, I suppose I could… give it a go.”

“You don't have to if it's too much. I'm sure this is really different from what you're used to.”

“No, no. I’m more than willing to give it a try. It's only that I’m not particularly used to colour television, so adding so much movement to it besides is throwing me off a bit.”

“Do you even have a TV?” Warlock asked, his character on screen grabbing a bell and donning a cat suit.

Aziraphale hummed. “Somewhere.”

“Covered in dust and under a pile of books, maybe?”

“It may be in use as a covered table, perhaps. I do know I have one from 1964. It still works. Or did a few years ago.”

“Oh my god, angel, that's older than I am.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “It's older than me too.”

Warlock doubted that. “Maybe we should play something easier. Like Mario Party.”

“I don't think difficulty is the problem, pup.” Crowley hummed, thoughtful, and absentmindedly traced patterns on the back of Aziraphale's hand where it rested on his thigh. “Maybe something more slow-paced and with less flashy bits.”

“Well, yeah. I mean, Mario Party's just a board game with button mashers.”

Aziraphale turned his hand over to loosely clasp Crowley’s. “That does sound doable. More so than... drifting?”

“We can try Mario Party. No drifting there, but there are minigames.”

Aziraphale pursed his lips. “Alright. It sounds worth an attempt.”

“You can pick your character first,” Warlock promised.

“Oh? Well, thank you. But you feel free to play this a bit longer, so I can get acclimated to the visuals.” And so he could keep Crowley exactly where he was a little longer.

He wasn't fooling Crowley, not for a second, who grinned against his cheek. “How very kind of you, angel.”

Purring, Aziraphale turned to kiss him. “Yes, I thought so.”

It was so easy to give and take affection with Aziraphale and still somewhat novel that his attention was wanted, sought after even. “Careful, angel, too much affection and we'll scare the pup off,” Crowley murmured and snickered at the groan from Warlock beside them.

Aziraphale smiled, nuzzling him through his purrs. “I think he'll survive.”

“No, I won't,” he muttered, slipping off the couch to sit at Aziraphale's feet instead.

It made Aziraphale’s heart skip several beats and he leaned into and nuzzled Crowley a little helplessly. “Thank you for inviting me,” he murmured, unable to express just how much it meant. He'd probably scare Crowley away.

“You don't have to thank me, I'm glad to have you here.” He'd never known an alpha quite so affectionate as Aziraphale. It was probably a result of being raised by two omegas and it was so very welcome. The nuzzles soothing any worries over his own tendencies to seek touch and attention. “And I'd like to have you here more, if you'd like to be.”

“If both my omegas agree, of course.”

“That'd be okay, I guess,” Warlock mumbled.

“There you have it, then. Can't say no now.”

“I wouldn't.” Aziraphale lifted a hand to Crowley’s cheek. “Denying you is hardly an option.”

Crowley smiled and tipped his head into Aziraphale’s warm palm. “Are you saying I have you wrapped around my finger, Aziraphale?”

“You might just.”

“An alpha at my beck and call? I think I like that.”

Aziraphale laughed. “Of course you do. And you're satisfied with this particular alpha?”

“Oh yes,” Crowley breathed, suddenly wishing for the comfort of a nest to pull Aziraphale down into and show him just how satisfied with him he was. “No complaints here.”

“I'm very glad about that, Crowley. Happier than I can properly convey, I think.”

“You guys are so sappy. You're like- like maple trees.”

“Better that than pine trees.”

Warlock started to roll his eyes, but stopped for the sake of his game. “Did you show Aziraphale your plants yet?”

“Wha- No. He just got here.” And it wasn't something he often talked about.

“You should, though. The whole room's basically a jungle.”

Aziraphale lifted his brows. “Is it?”

“It's not a jungle!” Crowley said quickly, cheeks pinking. “It's very organised.”

“There's still plants, like, everywhere.”

Aziraphale gave his thigh a pat. “You don't have to show me if you're embarrassed, pet. It's alright.”

“That's not-” It was embarrassing. A bit. But Crowley sighed and slipped his legs off Aziraphale’s lap to stand. “Come on,” he grumbled, holding his hand out to him. “I didn't water them yet this morning anyway.”

Aziraphale took his hand, careful not to knock into Warlock while he stood, and smiled as he laced his fingers with Crowley’s. “Perhaps you could also show me where I should put my bag.”

“I can do that.” Crowley picked up his bag and tugged Aziraphale around the sofa. “Only have two bedrooms, so I hope you don't mind sharing.”

“Oh, I don’t believe that’ll be a problem at all.”

“I thought that might be the case,” he snickered and pulled Aziraphale through the living room and down the hall. Perhaps it was a bit silly to have nervous butterflies in his stomach, but he was about to show his alpha his room, his nest, to be judged and possibly, terrifyingly rejected. He didn't think Aziraphale would be so cruel, but it was still a worry.

“It smells so much like you everywhere,” Aziraphale murmured, purr rippling through the words. “Warlock’s scent is still so new, it doesn’t permeate the way yours does.”

“Yeah, well, also lived here for a few years. It's had time to soak in.” He stopped just beside his door and gave Aziraphale’s fingers a squeeze. “Not overwhelming, is it?”

“No, it’s wonderful.” Aziraphale smiled at him, soft and warm. “Were Warlock not here, I may have had you on the couch already.”

“Was that what the change in your scent was?” Crowley asked, feigning innocence. “Wanting to have your way with me on the nearest surface?”

“Oh, you hush.” Aziraphale stepped closer, taking advantage of Crowley’s full hands to nuzzle into his scent gland. “I know we’ll have to be quiet tonight, but… I was hoping you might show me your rope collection.”

A shiver slid down Crowley’s spine and he gave a slight nod of his head. “I'll show you anything you like.”

“Don’t promise that just yet, pretty thing. I’m liable to be very greedy.”

“Maybe I want you to be greedy.”

Aziraphale released his hand and hooked his fingers in Crowley’s belt loops to tug him forward, purr shifting to a low growl. “What if I wanted to tie you up now? Make you wear ropes under your clothes all day?”

His breath caught in his throat and eyes went wide. Crowley hadn't expected this after their discussion of ropes and binding over the phone. “Can't say I'd be opposed.”

“Then get in that room and show me your collection so I can.”

Crowley laughed breathlessly and shared a small, heated and secret grin with Aziraphale. “As my alpha wishes,” he murmured, reluctantly pulling away to open the door and saunter through it, leaving Aziraphale at the threshold to enter when he was ready.

He looked around the minimally decorated room, trying not to openly and greedily stare at the dark-sheeted bed. He noted a table with a snake decoration, simple nightstands that seemed to be floating. There was a door that lead to what was likely a bathroom, a bureau that matched the nightstands and an armoire that did the same. Art was scattered on the walls, but there were few photographs. “You’re correct. It isn’t as homey or cluttered as mine, but it does suit you.”

“You think so?” He'd always worried it was a bit too impersonal, but being the only one who ever saw it there hadn't been any reason to change. Aziraphale's bag was set on the bureau as he passed. It clashed something awful with his grey-on-grey decor, but that was a small price to pay for having Aziraphale here.

“I do. It’s charming in its way.” Aziraphale stepped inside, closing the door behind him and enveloping himself in the scent of omega. His omega. “Very modern and clean. Our nests are nothing alike, but it… Well. I assume you want what’s between us to last as much as I do, yes?”

Crowley stopped on his way to the nightstand and looked over to him. “I'd say so, yeah.” He didn't know for sure, but he couldn't imagine Aziraphale wanted this more than himself.

“Then this may make sense to you. Seeing how different your nest is from mine makes me feel as if- I don’t believe blending our styles is going to be necessarily simple, but it will be-” He paused, wondering if he was assuming too much, but Crowley wasn’t shrinking away, nor did he seem wary. “Building a nest with you - figuring out how to blend our styles - would be an exciting endeavour.”

“Oh.” The offer made his heart beat with something warm and hopeful. “Y-yeah I'd- I'd like that. A lot, actually. I've not made a nest with anyone before. Only- Only alone.”

“Yes. It’s the same for me.” Aziraphale walked closer to him and gestured at the bed. “May I sit?”

“Wha- Yes. Was under the impression you'd be sleeping here tonight, of course you can sit.”

Aziraphale chuckled, taking up a spot on the edge of the bed to watch Crowley. “I should still ask, my dear. It’s my first time in here.”

Crowley rolled his eyes fondly. “Sure, but I've already been in your nest. All over it, if I'm remembering that night right and I think I am. Impossible to forget, that.”

Aziraphale smiled. “My only regret is that I didn’t bend you over the kitchen table. I think I will next time.”

“Wanting to test the integrity of that table, hm?”

“Mm. Actually, considering that you were feeling a bit… used, I was going to soothe some of that with my tongue.”

Crowley could feel his face going through multiple shades of pink and quickly spun on his heel to try and hide it. He didn't think he was successful, but it didn't hurt. “You are a menace.”

“I just find it very sweet that you react the way you do when I say anything remotely filthy. Even when it's you who starts it.”

“It's not the filth, it's…” Crowley knelt and dug out his little key to unlock the drawer. “It's that you always turn it back to me somehow. Not used to that.”

“It isn't complicated, though. I receive quite a bit of pleasure in ensuring that you are enjoying yourself,” Aziraphale replied, eyeing him carefully. Locking the drawer with a pup in the home was wise. “The more sounds you make and the stronger the arousal is in your scent, the better I feel about what I'm doing with you.”

That made sense, of course it did, it just wasn't what he expected. Crowley couldn't tell if previous partners had been bad (very possible) or if Aziraphale was just a unicorn (also possible). “You really don't mind all the dumb noises I make?”

“I love them. It's far more preferable than silence. I've had silent partners in the past and they've been... It's less than satisfactory, we'll say.” Aziraphale’s smile turned a little wicked. “If I need quiet, I'd prefer to use a gag.”

Crowley choked on his own spit while trying not to laugh. “Christ, Aziraphale. Well unfortunately for you I don't have anything like that, so you’ll just have to make do.” He pulled two bundles of rope from the drawer; one nylon and light grey, the other silk and dark red. There was another, black, bundle that Crowley left behind as he shut the drawer and sat beside Aziraphale. “Alright, angel, you can have your pick of what to tie me up with.”

“How sweet of you,” Aziraphale purred, running his fingers over the different ropes. He wanted, very badly, to ask about the other set, but he let Crowley have that secret for now. “Remove your clothes, please.”

“Of course, alpha,” he said with a teasing wiggle of his eyebrows before slipping his glasses off to more easily pull the black henley over his head. There was a bit of an excited thrill when Aziraphale’s eyes were immediately dragged away from the ropes to track over the newly exposed skin and Crowley smirked while he got to work on his jeans.

“You're very beautiful, you know. I'll make them loose enough for extended wear, but if anything starts to chafe, you will tell me.”

“Don't worry, I will. I'm sure it'll be fine, though.” Crowley shimmied out of the tight jeans, pants and socks going along with them, and when he turned back to Aziraphale he had to resist crossing his arms in a sudden fit of nerves. Here he was, naked as anything while Aziraphale sat there just as buttoned and clothed as he usually was. Crowley shifted from foot to foot to work out the excess energy and to give himself something to do. “Alright. Where do you want me?”

“Right where you are. I think we'll try the nylon. I don't want this to slip if we're going to go out.” Aziraphale stayed where he was, admiring his omega while trying to be as non-threatening as possible. “How do you feel about a classic harness?”

Crowley bobbed his head. “That's-that's fine. Easy.”

“Good.” He rose carefully, leaving the rope where it was for a moment, and took the time to straighten his waistcoat before reaching out and cupping Crowley’s cheeks. “You're doing very well,” he murmured, purr low. “I'm so proud of you for trusting me, pet, and honoured.”

The touch was a soothing one and so very easy to lean into. He turned his head to kiss one of Aziraphale’s soft palms. “Haven't given me any reason not to trust you.”

“And I truly hope I don't.” Aziraphale kissed him, soft and sweet and brief, before stepping back to pick up the rope. “I assume this wrap here is to mark the middle?”

“Ah, yeah. About the middle, anyway. Been a while since I've used any of them.”

“I'll trust it.” Aziraphale looped the rope around his neck. “What do you like about being tied up?”

Crowley let out a breath and watched the way the grey nylon slid through Aziraphale’s fingers. “It, ah, keeps me centred, I think. Helps to be less… worried about anything, everything.” He shivered at the brush of Aziraphale's fingers as he laid the rope. “And it just feels nice.”

“Mm. Perhaps later I'll add some of the silk for you.” Aziraphale kissed him as he crossed the rope, then stepped behind him to draw the ends up between his arse cheeks. He stroked the pert curve, lips quirking. “I like that this helps you. I like that you trust me enough to be in control.”

It took a monumental effort to not squirm, to be still and good for his alpha. “You saved my pup,” Crowley murmured, smiling when he felt a kiss on his shoulder. Aziraphale was so gentle but sure. So much different than when this had been done before. He dug a fingernail into his palm to get rid of that, to focus on the brush of Aziraphale's hands and the rope on his skin. The here and now. “You wouldn't let anything happen to me.”

“Neither of you,” he growled, neatly twining the each end of the rope about Crowley’s hips and around the front. He twisted them around the back again, feeling the stirrings of possessiveness. The growing feeling of mine. His omega. But it didn't add any force to his hands. It didn't have him tightening the rope too much. Crowley was his to cherish, not harm, and that was easy.

Crowley let his eyes close, felt his limbs go loose, breaths deep and even. His alpha was here. His alpha would take care of him and their pup. It felt so simple to hand the reins over to Aziraphale like this, piece by piece with every sure twist of the nylon. He could feel the diamond pattern taking shape up his torso and made a curious hum. “Do you just know these ties off the top of your head or did you do reading up?”

“I know them. It's been some time since I put them to use on a person, but much of it's muscle memory.” Aziraphale leaned in and kissed his neck, just over his scent gland to coat his lips in the sweet oil there. “I can do a few more intricate things, but I thought something simple would suit our purposes today.”

“Mmm, you were right about that. This works jussst fine.” The ropes were looped around his chest, then to the back again. They would probably feel at least a little restrictive when he twisted or turned, but the thought he would feel them under his clothes as their little secret was a thrill.

Aziraphale soon reached the end of the ropes, tucking them in and around to create two grabbable places at his back. He curled his fingers around them and tugged Crowley a step back. “Alright?”

“Ah- Y-yeah. That's good.” He laughed a little breathlessly and leaned back, trusting Aziraphale to be solid and there. “Gonna tug me around a bit?”

“I might later.” Aziraphale’s arms wound around him, holding him close. “My lovely omega. You look beautiful like this.”

“Do I?” Crowley murmured and rested his hands over Aziraphale’s. “That'd be your handiwork, then.”

“Then you're very welcome. I've enhanced your natural beauty.” Aziraphale gave him a fond squeeze. “But it feels alright? Not too tight or too loose?”

He shifted in Aziraphale's arms, giving his bonds a meagre test and feeling how the nylon pressed into his skin. Only the ones under his arms seemed possible of leaving any marks. “Feels fine, I think. Can still move.”

“Good.” Aziraphale traced his fingers along the diamond pattern going down his chest. “Do you want to get dressed?”

“No,” Crowley said, pliant enough to be honest. “Probably should, though. Before Warlock starts wondering what happened to us.”

“Mm. He'll think we got lost in the jungle.” Aziraphale’s fingers ghosted over Crowley’s nipples, tail wagging behind him. “But it's certainly for the best. The longer we're in here, the more difficult it'll be for me to let you leave.”

With a sigh Crowley arched into his touch, turned his head to nuzzle at Aziraphale's cheek. “Don't want to let me go, angel?”

“Never,” he murmured, purring softly. “I should always be so lucky as to have you in my arms.”

“You have me,” Crowley whispered back, pressing his lips to Aziraphale’s throat and feeling the vibrations of his purr against his back. “So long as you want me.”

“Tell me that again later? When I don't have to share you with a pup.”

Crowley chuckled. “I will tonight, while you're in my nest. Tell you as much as you want.”

“I am looking forward to having you here. Filling your nest with my scent.”

“I am too. A scented gift is great, but not nearly enough to get your scent in my nest like I want.”

Aziraphale nodded. “I understand, pet. Yours is starting to fade from mine.”

The noise he made wasn't distressed so much as concerned. “Do you need me to refresh it for you?” It was known that a mate's scent fading from a nest could be very upsetting.

“I would appreciate that when you have an opportunity. It's...” Aziraphale ducked his head, lips lingering over Crowley’s scent gland. “It's becoming a bit difficult to sleep there.”

“Oh, angel.” Crowley turned in his arms and hooked his chin over Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Well we can't have that. Gotta make sure my alpha is sleeping well.”

“You will tonight, won't you?” Aziraphale stroked his back, fingers brushing skin as he traced the lines of rope. “My sweetest darling.”

Crowley chuckled and squeezed him tight, shivering at the feather light touch. “Of course I will. Looking forward to it, even.”

“I’m glad.” He never wanted Crowley to cringe away from the idea of them being together, even just to sleep. “I adore you.”

No one had ever said they adored him before, not before Aziraphale. Hell, no one had been as liberal with compliments and affection. “That's good. Be pretty awkward if we didn't feel the same about each other.”

Aziraphale’s tail sped up and he pressed a firm kiss to Crowley’s temple. “It would indeed. Now get dressed, my omega. While I’m sure Warlock is perfectly content with his video games, we do need to return to him.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He didn't want to release Aziraphale, but he did have a point. Crowley quickly found out that bending over, when he did so to pick up his trousers and pants, made the nylon rub and pull right between his arse. “Ooh. That's- That's new.”

Aziraphale purred, low and satisfied. “Do you need help?”

“Ngh-no. 'M fine.”

He returned to his perch on the edge of the bed, gaze nothing short of predatory as he looked Crowley over. “Then carry on, pet.”

Cheeks flushed at Aziraphale's obvious and unwavering attention, Crowley was aware of every movement he made, how the rope pulled and pressed against his skin. Standing just caused more friction and he was coming to regret wearing such tight trousers with how he had to wriggle and twist to get into them.

Aziraphale wasn’t regretting them. Tail beating against the mattress, he rather enjoyed the show Crowley put on for him. The way the criss-crossing ropes and diamond patterns splayed across his chest when he had his trousers on. He rose and plucked Crowley’s shirt up, then cupped his chin and kissed him. “What a lovely omega I have,” he murmured. “An absolutely stunning creature.”

“Keep complimenting me like that and it'll get to my head,” Crowley mumbled back and took the henley from Aziraphale’s fingers. “Not that I'm saying to stop, mind.”

“I don’t intend to.” Aziraphale waited for him to shrug on the shirt, smiling at the way the diamond pattern pressed into his skin, and began to do up the buttons for him. “Because I can still hardly believe that someone like you would be settling for me.”

Crowley stopped, frowned, and looked up at him. “Aziraphale, you don't really think that, do you?”

Not entirely sure what Crowley was objecting to, Aziraphale stubbornly kept his attention on the buttons and made a noncommittal sound.

“Aziraphale, angel, look at me.” Crowley grabbed his hands and held them in both of his, waiting until Aziraphale’s eyes flicked back up to him. “None of this is- is settling. I'm here and you're here because that's what I want, not out of some… perceived lack of choices. I want you.”

Aziraphale’s cheeks pinkened. “Yes, well… perhaps it was a poor choice of words.”

Crowley leaned in to nuzzle his warm cheek. “So long as you don't think I'm not entirely attracted to you. You're gorgeous, angel.”

“I want you to be attracted to me.” He just didn’t always believe it was really happening. “Being invited here makes it much easier for me to trust that you are.”

“Good. I'm glad I asked you. It's very nice having you here, with us.”

Aziraphale lifted Crowley’s hands to press smiling kisses to the back of each. “You’ve made me feel very welcome. Now show me your plants? Warlock has me very curious about them.”

“Yeah, alright. Though it's not nearly as wild as the pup makes it out to be.” Which wasn't untrue, necessarily, but when he pulled Aziraphale into the little room just off the kitchen he realised just how many there were. The larger specimens, like the ficus, elephant ear, and a few ferns, had pots along the ground while shelves and tables held the smaller ones. There were even a few in baskets hanging from the ceiling. “Er, maybe it is a bit jungly.”

“Oh, it is, but it’s beautiful.” Aziraphale had absolutely no idea what he was looking at, but the leaves of one of the tall plants felt smooth to the touch. It smelled of stress in this room, beneath the soil and greenery, but also of relief. This must’ve been where Crowley came to cool off, to bury his stressors and unhappiness like roots. It was an important room to his mate. “They’re all so green. Clearly well-tended by clever hands.”

Crowley flushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “They better be green,” he muttered. “'S the point of them.”

Aziraphale chuckled, fingers trailing along the lines of a vine spilling out from one of the hanging planters. “I suppose so. You have such variety.”

“Yeah, it's no fun just growing one or two.” He picked up the little green mister from a nearby table and stuck a finger in the soil of the spider plant on the same table. The soil was still somewhat damp and he moved on to the next, acutely aware of how Aziraphale’s eyes tracked him. “It's… I don't know, rewarding, I guess, to learn how to care for so many living things. They all need different amounts of water and soil and light, and when you mess up one of those they pretty obviously let you know about it.”

“More communicative than a certain pup we know, I wager.”

Crowley snorted and nodded his agreement. “Got that right. Actually know when I've screwed up with a plant.” Crowley stopped at the pathos, lifting a leaf to examine it with a frown. “Though sometimes no matter what you do, they just don't want to thrive.”

“I believe the same can be said of pups. They're like any living thing, really. Stubborn.”

“You could say that again. The pup gives me a run for my own stubbornness sometimes.”

“Yes, well, Warlock's a special one. And you're doing your best with him, Crowley. Have you had a chance to visit the school since those hooligans chased him into my shop?”

Crowley sighed and shook his head. “Not quite. I called and scheduled a meeting, but they wouldn't see me right away.”

Aziraphale growled. “That's absolutely ridiculous. How dare they.”

“That's bureaucracy for you, angel.” He let go of the leaf and grabbed Aziraphale’s hand instead. “There's nothing I can do about it and going in all pissed won't help Warlock.”

“No.” Aziraphale pressed his lips together. “It doesn't stop me from being angry. They chased him, Crowley.”

“Yeah, I know. I'm mad too.”

“I know you are. You have more right to be than I do.”

“Angel…” Crowley squeezed his fingers. “You care about him, more than most of his own blood family. I think that gives you all the right to be upset.”

“I do care for him, Crowley. I care a great deal about you both.” Aziraphale's ears fell. “I wish I could do more for the two of you.”

“It might not feel like it, but you've done so much more than you know.” He pulled Aziraphale into his arms and nuzzled at his temple. “I know you think of him as your own and you have no idea how grateful I am for that.”

Aziraphale breathed him in, gripping his shirt and feeling the rope beneath. “It doesn't bother you? I'm not overstepping?”

“No, you're not. I'm glad he has someone that's not me who cares about him, loves him. He needed that.”

“He needs you too. He loves you dearly, pet.”

“I know he does. And now he has us both looking out for him.”

Aziraphale nodded. “Yes. And you have me, Crowley. However you need, I promise you.”

It made his chest fill with a kind of warmth that he wasn't used to. Support like that was far and few between and here was Aziraphale, offering himself as a rock to cling to during the storms of life. “Thank you, angel. Truly.”

Aziraphale cupped his cheeks and drew him into a kiss. He wanted to share all of himself, even the embarrassing and afraid parts. He wanted to trust Crowley with it all. This omega who was afraid to reach and cling how he deserved, who'd been brave enough to open his home and his nest to an alpha. Who had let himself be twined in ropes.

Having Aziraphale here, in his home, this was where his alpha was supposed to be. It was good and right and so many things Crowley had denied himself for more years than he wanted to think about. And he was so very glad that it was Aziraphale who was kissing him, holding his face so tenderly, and taking him apart so thoroughly with just his lips.

“You're a treasure, Crowley. An absolutely priceless treasure.” Aziraphale stroked his hair, amused and pleased to see his ears had formed. “My priceless treasure.”

His cheeks turned pink, both from the unusual praise and that his ears and tail had appeared without him intending it. Though, perhaps he should have just been glad his tail hadn't gotten caught in the ropes. “'M just me,” he mumbled, unsure of how to respond to being something so special as a treasure.

“Yes, you are.” Aziraphale kissed him again. “My omega.”

Crowley ducked his head and buried his nose against Aziraphale’s shoulder, fingers curled in his waistcoat. “Yours,” he whispered. “So long as you want me.”

“As long as you'll have me,” Aziraphale murmured. He nuzzled Crowley’s ear. “Let's go sit, hm? You can teach me a video game and pretend you don't feel ropes pressing against your skin.”

“Gonna have to pretend all day.” Not that that was a problem, just a test in restraint and likely to make him a sensitive mess by the time they retired to bed. It was exciting in a way that made his tail twitch. Crowley lifted his head and kissed Aziraphale’s cheek. “I actually think I know just the game. Got it for Warlock, originally, but he lost interest in the first few minutes once he realised it didn't have any fighting or anything in it.”

“Oh? What's it about?”

“Wellll- It's a go at your own pace sort of game. You live on an island with a few other villagers and the goal is to make it look nice, fill up a museum, and explore the island.”

“That doesn't sound too terrible,” he decided, stepping back and offering his arm. “Shall we?”

It was so easy, natural even, to link his arm with Aziraphale’s and cause a pleased wag of his tail. “We shall.”

Chapter Text

It was a busy, fun day. Aziraphale found the game quietly amusing, the villagers cheerful and Warlock much more excited about it when he had Aziraphale in his town. They'd pulled weeds and he'd been taught how to catch fish with the pushes of a few buttons.

Though he much preferred the reality of the park. After lunch, he and Warlock had rolled about and played and Aziraphale happily trotted by Crowley’s side with Warlock's scruff between his teeth as they made their way home. Er, ah, back to Crowley's flat. Aziraphale was very happy to proudly show off his pup to passersby, positively preening.

It was adorable, really, watching Aziraphale parade Warlock around like a proud parent for everyone to see. A display that Crowley couldn't help but enjoy. His alpha and his pup, together and happy. It was nearly everything his instincts wanted.

And the wagging of Aziraphale's tail was an obvious indicator of just how delighted he was. Crowley’s own tail wagged much more slowly, not used to having such features out and visible in public. He would have normally tucked them away before leaving, but Aziraphale had been so pleased with him and with the ropes pressing into his skin he hadn't wanted to disappoint him.

It was also just less worrying to have them out with an alpha padding at his side and brushing against his legs in a way that declared to everyone that this omega was his. Crowley kept his fingers in the curly fur at the back of his neck, occasionally petting or scratching and feeling the low rumbles of Aziraphale's purr.

He didn't think he'd ever felt quite this content before and he never wanted to let it go.

Aziraphale rubbed the top of his head against Crowley's side, feeling much the same. It was easy to sink into instinct like this, far easier than when he was human-shaped. He could be as freely affectionate as he wanted. Warlock, too, could do and be as he wanted like this. His own tail flicked happily as he was carried, his own purrs soft and audible only to Aziraphale. They only made the alpha happier.

Seeing as his two companions lacked hands and opposable thumbs, when they reached the flat building it was up to Crowley to open the door for them and press the buttons for the lift. He was glad when the doors opened and it was empty. They had the lift all to themselves and Crowley leaned against one wall of it, gently scratching behind Aziraphale’s ears as he sat next to him. “Your jaw isn't getting tired, is it? I can carry him if it is.”

Aziraphale set Warlock down between his paws, the black bundle burying himself against Aziraphale’s white fur. He shook his head and grumbled a no, but happily pressed his nose into Crowley's hand in search of more attention.

And Crowley was more than happy to give it to him. If his alpha was seeking out the attention, it couldn't possibly be too much or unwanted. He scratched under his chin and grinned at how Aziraphale’s tail thumped a rapid rhythm on the lift floor. “Alright. I won’t take him from you, then.”

Aziraphale purred and boldly licked Crowley’s cheek. His good omega.

The lift stopped at their floor, revealing one of Crowley’s elderly neighbours. She blinked at the trio in surprise, sniffing the air curiously. “Well, Mr. Crowley, I've never seen you around with your wolf features out. Got a new alpha friend to encourage you, hm?”

Crowley felt his face heating up, but he didn't exactly have anywhere he could hide it. “Y-yes, Mrs. Farley. This is my partner, Aziraphale.”

“It's very nice to meet you, sir. I see you've got little Warlock all tuckered out.”

Aziraphale ducked his head in acknowledgment and agreement, but also took the opportunity to scoop the pup back up. He rose and let his tail hit Crowley’s legs before he made his way off the lift.

It was almost surprising that Aziraphale hadn't changed back, clearly comfortable just as he was. Crowley skirted around his neighbour, trying not to let Aziraphale get too far. “Have a good day, Mrs. Farley.”

Her answering smile as she stepped onto the lift was knowing and a little sharp and only served to make his face burn hotter. “I will and I have no doubt you will too.”

Aziraphale’s tail swished cheerfully as he looked back. He set Warlock down long enough to bark. An amused “come along” directed at his mate. Warlock echoed it, the sound more of a yip than a proper bark, and Aziraphale leaned down to rub his muzzle against the small pup with all the fondness in the world.

He couldn't stay embarrassed for long, not when his alpha and pup were being so cute. Crowley walked swiftly down the hall to them and had to laugh when Aziraphale grabbed Warlock up again to trot ahead. “Oh, come on! I'm not jogging after you.”

Aziraphale turned to look at him, tail swishing. He grumbled playfully around the pup's scruff, and Warlock's own tail wagged wildly.

Crowley rolled his eyes at him and huffed when he caught up. It wasn't just the extra effort of jogging that he was opposed to, but he did currently have rope between his arse cheeks and the faster he moved the more they rubbed. “You are a menace,” Crowley muttered at him, scratching Aziraphale’s ears to let him know he wasn't actually upset.

Aziraphale purred, pawing at him playfully before setting Warlock down and finally changing back. He scooped the pup into his arms and leaned in to kiss Crowley’s cheek. “I'm visiting you, pet, and as they say, 'when in Rome.'”

“Are you saying I'm a menace?”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Crowley repeated, giving him a nudge with his hip as he dug out his keys. “You're the only one I let get away with such lip.”

“And I'm very grateful.” Aziraphale stroked Warlock's fur as Crowley unlocked the door, smiling when the pup yawned and cuddled in. “There we are, young one. You've had quite the day.”

“It was a pretty exciting day. Had a lot going on for a growing pup.” He locked the door once they were all through and came up to Aziraphale’s side to nuzzle at his cheek. “Should put him in his nest.”

“Oh, yes. And I'll grant you the honours, of course. I-”

Warlock made a grumble of protest, then hid his face under his paws. He wanted Aziraphale to see his nest. He wanted that hint of alpha in there. An adult he could trust.

Crowley put a hand on Aziraphale’s back, just above his tail, and walked the three of them further in. “None of that, now. You can help me tuck him in.”

“Oh...” Aziraphale looked down at the pup and gently scratched behind his ear. “I'd be happy to.”

“Come on, then. His room is just down the hall before mine.” Crowley guided them down the hall, smiling at the way Warlock put up a valiant struggle to keep his eyes open.

Aziraphale settled him on his bed when they stepped inside, breathing in the fresh toffee apple scent slowly overtaking plain pup. “Thank you for letting me see your nest,” he murmured, patting Warlock's small back. “It's very nice. You've done well,” he praised, pleased by a small tail wag.

It made his heart feel full and warm to watch them together, like they were a proper family. “Told you he'd like it,” Crowley whispered as he pulled a blanket over him and earned a sleepy huff for his trouble.

Aziraphale chuckled. “Now hush. You were worried about my opinion of yours too.”

“Of course I was,” he said quietly and took Aziraphale’s hand to pull him from the darkened room. “I had an alpha I wanted to impress.”

“Consider me thoroughly impressed,” Aziraphale murmured, cupping his cheek when they bid the sleepy boy goodnight and slipped into the hall. “How are you feeling?”

Crowley rolled his shoulders and twisted around one way then the other, feeling the way the nylon ropes dug into his skin. “Not bad. It's not uncomfortable.”

“Good.” Aziraphale flicked open a button on his shirt, revealing a hint of nylon. “Come to bed, darling.”

Crowley swallowed and felt his heart speed up. “Bed already?” He murmured, tongue flicking out to wet his lip. “It's still light out, angel.”

“It certainly is, but you've earned a reward. You do want it, don't you?”

Of course he did. He absolutely did. And he had no idea what Aziraphale had planned. “As if I'd ever turn down a reward from my alpha.”

“Good boy,” Aziraphale purred, offering his arm. “Off to bed, then. And I'd like the pleasure of undressing you this time.”

Crowley shivered and took his arm, excitement and anticipation making his tail twitch. “Going to tell me what I did to deserve a reward so I know what to do to get more in the future?”

“No. You'll earn plenty so long as you keep being yourself.”

“I don't know how I'm supposed to be anything less.”

“Which I'm very grateful for.” Aziraphale reached out and opened Crowley’s bedroom door. “How has it felt, wearing ropes all these hours?”

“Mmm, good.” He pulled Aziraphale past the door and barely remembered to shut it before pouncing on him and giving him a heated kiss. “Every little movement I'm reminded of you, of your hands. Every time the ropes dig into my skin I think of you putting them on me.”

Aziraphale hummed, reaching for the buttons of his henley to begin undoing them. “Every time your scent shifts, it's impossible to focus on anything else. I've wanted to disrobe you all day, to watch the ropes moving over and pressing into your skin.”

“Good. I like having your focus on me.” And now that they were alone he could arch and feel the way the ropes digged and pulled. “Ah-angel, what do you plan to do with your omega all tied up like this?”

“I could do all manner of things, couldn't I? You're so ready to be touched.” Aziraphale pushed the shirt off his shoulders and down his arms, letting it fall to the floor. “Such a beauty,” he purred.

“Beauty's in the eye of those that see it, or however that saying goes.” But with the way Aziraphale was looking at him he thought he might actually be able to believe it.

“It's in the eye of the beholder, you silly thing.” He slipped his fingers beneath one of the diamonds lining his chest. “And you're certainly something to behold.”

Crowley reached up, covered Aziraphale’s hand with his own and pressed it there, just over his beating heart. “Can't say that without me wanting to tell you how handsome you are.”

Smiling, Aziraphale leaned in and nipped his shoulder. “You can tell me whatever you like, pet. But let's get these denims off you. I've been thinking about your lovely behind framed in those ropes all day.”

“Angel!” Crowley laughed, but did let him go so Aziraphale could thumb open the button of his jeans and wiggle them down his hips. Feeling those strong, sure hands gripping and running down his thighs made Crowley groan and he had to grip Aziraphale’s shoulders for balance to kick them the rest of the way off once he'd pushed them far enough. “Still haven't told me what my reward is.”

“I would much rather demonstrate.” His pants were next, quickly vanishing and leaving him in only the harness of grey nylon. The bob of his half-hard cock had Aziraphale’s lips quirking, a hand wrapping around to pump slow and easy. “Though you do like when I say filthy things, don't you?”

Crowley bobbed his head, hissing through his teeth when Aziraphale’s thumb swiped over the head of his cock. “Y-yeah. That prim, proper voice of yours. Sexy is what it is.”

“Mm... Let's give you some options then, shall I? I could sink to my knees right now, grip your thighs and wrap my lips around your cock. Let you come right down my throat.”

The noise Crowley made was nothing short of embarrassing, or it would have been had he been less occupied with imagining Aziraphale on his knees with pretty pink lips and quick tongue turning him to jelly. “Oh, fuck,” he breathed and felt his cock twitch in Aziraphale's loose grasp.

“Mm... A good option,” Aziraphale purred, releasing him and stepping around. He gripped the rope-formed handles and pulled them back a step. He leaned in and nuzzled the back of his ear. “I could also add those silk wraps to your bindings, tie your hands behind your back and bend you over the bed. Use my tongue on your eager, wet hole until you mess the linens.”

Crowley whined, a high needy sound, and clenched around emptiness in anticipation. A dribble of fastly cooling slick slid down his thigh. He wanted both, everything. Anything Aziraphale would give him. “T-that one. Yes, the second.”

“The second? My good omega, so decisive.” Aziraphale nuzzled his ear, a hand slipping down to tug at one of the ropes dipped between the curves of his arse. “Kneel on the edge of your bed. Unless you'd prefer to get the silk ropes yourself?”

He shook his head then turned it just enough to brush his lips to the smiling corner of Aziraphale's mouth. “I can- I'll sit. Kneel. Wait for you.”

“Good. I want you to enjoy yourself, pet. Not think or worry about anything.” Aziraphale stroked his hair. “So kneel for me, and I'll get you exactly how I want you.”

It made him smile and he brushed their lips together again. “Sweet alpha,” Crowley murmured before pulling away from him. He could feel the way Aziraphale’s eyes tracked every step, tail lifting in silent invitation as he knelt on the edge of the bed and waited for his alpha.

“Certainly when it comes to my very good omega.” Aziraphale had to keep himself from approaching him straight away, instead turning to the nightstand and fetching the key. He took out the red silk Crowley had offered earlier, running it through his fingers with a satisfied rumble. “Wonderful quality, pet. I think you'll like what I have as well.”

“I'm sure I will.” The flicking of his tail betrayed his excitement. “There's more than just rope in there, you know. If you see something you like…”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Just how many rewards do you want, pet?”

Crowley threw him a crooked smirk. “All of them.”

“Greedy,” Aziraphale tsked, smile bright as he began to roll up his sleeves. “We'll do what we've already agreed to. Afterwards, perhaps you'll show off your collection for me so I know what you like and why.”

“If you'd like, angel.” He watched strong forearms dusted in pale hair slowly appear, knew exactly what it felt like to be pushed down by them. Crowley licked his lip and wondered what it would take to make Aziraphale throw him over his shoulder and carry him to a nest semi-against his will.

“I would if you would as well.” His smile warmed, Crowley’s desire so clear and strong. His scent and his gaze were so telling. Aziraphale stepped closer. “Hands behind your back, please.”

He had to straighten up from his usual slouch to do it, but did clasp his hands behind his back. “Always so polite, angel.”

“I don't want you to ever think you can't refuse. But if you'd like me to lose some restraint, it would be very easy.” Aziraphale kissed his shoulder and neatly bound his wrists. “You're very good at making me lose my head.”

“I don't mind,” Crowley murmured, testing the silk with a slight tug of his wrists. “It's cute. Very you.”

“Mmhm. Sweet omega. Tight enough?”

He tested them again and hummed. “Could be tighter.”

Aziraphale nipped his shoulder, pleased with him. He undid and retied his wrists, tail swishing in anticipation. “And now?”

The new tie was definitely tighter, he couldn't move his wrists apart at all. Crowley wiggled his fingers until he found the edge of Aziraphale's waistcoat and gave it a little tug. “Mm, it's good, I think.”

“Very good.” Aziraphale leaned away from him again, straightening his waistcoat. “I'm going to reposition you now,” he warned and moved quickly. He pinned Crowley’s torso to the bed, a firm hand at the nap of his neck as he leaned over him. Trousers pressed against Crowley’s bare arse. “There we are. All laid out for me. You're just a feast for your alpha, my pretty omega.”

Crowley made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a yelp. Aziraphale had warned him, yes, but it had still been unexpected. A surprise he had absolutely zero problems with. “A-alpha,” he whined quietly, the strong hand at his neck keeping him in place.

“That’s right, pet.” Aziraphale squeezed gently, then leaned lower to nip an ear. “Your alpha’s going to take very good care of you.”

He believed it. He couldn't not believe it with the way Aziraphale was holding him down and slight possessive growl in his voice. “Yes, alpha,” Crowley whispered, tail twitching where it was pressed to Aziraphale’s chest.

“Good boy. Stay.” Aziraphale lifted off of him, smiling at the way Crowley’s tail flicked and fluttered, but stayed lifted. A needy display that made his cock stir in his trousers, but he was being too good to deny what had been promised. Aziraphale’s own pleasure could wait, though he had no doubt this was going to be enjoyable. Smiling, he knelt on the bed and guided Crowley further up his nest. He wanted to be surrounded by that sweet scent, his omega’s anticipation and pleasure filling him with every inhale. “So beautiful,” he hummed, parting his cheeks and keeping the ropes held out of the way with his thumbs. Crowley’s thighs glistened with his want, heavy cock swaying between his thighs, and Aziraphale couldn’t help but growl as he leaned down to drag sharp fangs along the curve of a buttock. “So very mine.”

The thick scent of his slick was something Crowley might have been somewhat embarrassed about were it not accompanied by Aziraphale’s own sharp arousal. It was hard to think around the thrill of those fangs, the way he could feel himself open and dripping, and how their scents mingled in ways that satisfied long ignored instincts. Somehow he managed a whine, soft and pleading and thought he might have felt Aziraphale smile.

“Don’t worry, my sweet omega. I’ll take care of you.” Aziraphale trailed his tongue along the same path his teeth had taken, then hungrily kissed and nipped his way along the other before delving between them. He speared his tongue in deep without warning, flicking it over his damp walls and letting his lips and chin get damp with slick.

Crowley gasped at the sudden intrusion. It was unexpected and quick and his gasp led right into a low moan when Aziraphale hummed. A sound of delight. And wasn't that a dirty thought, that Aziraphale actually enjoyed licking the slick right out of him. He must, though, because Crowley could feel his tongue pushing as deep inside as it could go, mouth spread wide and the tips of those sharp fangs a thrilling reminder that the one eating him like some kind of delectable dessert was an alpha.

He was delectable. Delectable and special and everything Aziraphale had ever wanted in a mate. His own moan echoed Crowley’s and his hand fell between his thighs to curl around his length. Aziraphale held him firmly, fingers kneading into sensitive flesh as he stroked, as he sought to bring his omega as much pleasure as he could stand.

It was more stimulation than he was used to. Aziraphale's strong hand kept him spread open and unable to chase either sensation, neither the talented mouth at his arse nor the sure hand that tugged at his cock. His thighs shook and toes curled and when Aziraphale’s hand twisted just so he had to muffle the shouts of his release in the sheets.

Aziraphale moaned into him, but eased back to watch the streaks spill over the bed. He licked his lips, slowly releasing his cock to touch his bound hands. “My good omega,” he purred.

Crowley whined and clenched around the open, empty feeling he was left with. Aziraphale's touch, his scent, kept him grounded as he came down. His alpha was here. His alpha said he was good. Fingers fluttered until they met soft skin and held on as best they could, just to touch him.

“That's it, pet. There we are. My good omega. My sweet Crowley.”

“Angel,” he murmured back and nuzzled the sheets under his cheek. “Made a mess.”

“Yes.” Aziraphale squeezed his hand, pushing his own arousal away for the moment. “I'd like to untie you now, and hold onto you for a bit.”

Crowley nodded quickly and squeezed back, needing to feel more of his alpha's touch. “Yes. Please, alpha.”

Aziraphale undid his hands first, then guided him to sit back on his heels so he could unwind him from the harness. All the while, he peppered Crowley’s shoulders and back with warm kisses and softly murmured praise. “Here we are. Such a wonderful omega I have.”

His hands fell to the bed and curled there for something to hold onto. Every soft kiss and whispered word was like a soothing balm. He let Aziraphale remove the ropes, slowly relaxing and lips quirking with a small chuckle at the sight they likely made.

“What's so funny, pet?”

“Unwrapping me like a present.”

Aziraphale smiled, bundling up the last of the bindings to put away later. “I don't kiss presents as much as I am you, but you certainly are a gift.”

Crowley huffed and leaned back against his chest, purr starting once he felt Aziraphale warm and solid and his. “Thought I was a menace.”

“You can be both, dearest. You're multi-faceted.”

“I think that's called having character,” Crowley mumbled and turned his head to nuzzle and brush lips along Aziraphale’s jaw.

“It's certainly something.” Aziraphale purred as he nuzzled him, arms wrapping securely around his waist to keep him close. “Did you enjoy your reward?”

“Mmhm,” he hummed, heart soaring at the smell of his slick on Aziraphale’s skin. He smelled like him, like his. “My scent is all over you,” Crowley groaned and darted his tongue out to taste.

“Yes, it is.” And he seemed nothing short of pleased by that. “We have plenty of time to get my scent all over you.”

Crowley groaned again, pressing back into him to better leave open mouthed kisses on Aziraphale’s throat. “Could start now. No need to wait.”

Aziraphale’s eyes closed, head tipping to grant his omega more access. His collar suddenly felt very much in the way. “Well, being that it's your nest and you've already allowed me my way, how would you like me?”

“I think…” Crowley murmured, twisting around for a better angle. “I'd like to get my mouth on you this time. You gave me such fantastic attention, angel, let me give you some in return.”

Aziraphale reached up to tug his bow tie loose. “That’s what you want, pet? A mouthful of your alpha?”

“Yesss. Though you're definitely more than a mouthful.” The second his bow tie was loose enough Crowley nosed his collar out of the way to kiss more of his throat and lap at the rich tasting scent gland.

“Mm, very true.” Aziraphale let him, adoring the way Crowley seemed so eager for his scent. He began opening his waistcoat next, purr rumbling.

He wanted to be coated in it, to smell like his alpha so no one would have any doubt that he was wanted. “Here, alpha, let me help you,” Crowley murmured, turning to fully to get access to his shirt buttons.

Aziraphale cupped his hips, fingers kneading into soft skin as he was unbuttoned. “My helpful omega,” he purred.

Yes, he could be helpful, useful even. A good omega for his alpha. Every opened button revealed new skin to touch and pet, more of his alpha to love. “So handsome, angel. So strong. Bet you could pin me anywhere you wanted me, couldn't you?”

Aziraphale shivered. “I could. I very much could, and would very happily have my way with you.”

“You should. Tonight. Have your way with me right here.” He pushed Aziraphale’s waistcoat and shirt down his arms, finally getting his hands on the powerful muscles of his shoulders. Hidden beneath a layer of fat and padding that Crowley loved just as much.

Aziraphale growled, soft and low, but it was far from a warning. “I will. Pin you to the bed and fuck you until you can barely keep quiet. Knot you, keep you as close as I can get you.”

“You would, wouldn't you? Hold me down, make sure I'm yours, never let me go.” It was a fantasy, but one that Aziraphale’s receptive growls and the firm hold he had on his waist made him hopeful for. “But for now, lay back, alpha. Let your omega pleasure you, take care of you.”

“In a minute.” He cupped Crowley’s chin and pressed their lips together. His other hand went to the small of his back to draw him closer, eager for what Crowley had in store but wanting to taste him. To spill as much of his affection and desire into the intimate connection as he could.

Crowley could still taste some of himself on Aziraphale’s tongue. That tongue that had been in his arse just moments prior and was now tracing the inside of his mouth. He pressed as close to Aziraphale as he could get, seeking the warmth of his body and to feel those rumbling vibrations in his chest.

Aziraphale pulled Crowley into his lap with ease, grinding up so his arousal could be felt as well as scented. “Mine,” he growled. “My omega.”

“Yes. All yours, alpha. I'm all yours,” Crowley groaned back easily, eagerly. And just as eager for his cock, his hand travelled over the soft planes of Aziraphale's chest, through the curly white hair and over his round stomach, down to where he was hot and hard in his trousers. Fingers stroking over the shape of his erection in his trouser leg.

Aziraphale whined, head falling back. He let Crowley stroke and tease for a blissful, torturous few moments before picking him up and putting him further into the nest. Lifting to his knees, he unbuttoned his trousers and growled in relief at the lessened pressure against his cock. “Crowley...”

“Alpha,” Crowley purred back, grinning at the manhandling. He gripped Aziraphale’s waist, fingers brushing over pale stretch marks and dipping beneath his waistband. “Eager, are we?”

“I’m in your bed, pet. Anything less than eager would be criminal.”

Crowley snorted and rolled his eyes fondly. “Come on then, take these off,” he said, giving his belt loops playful tugs. “Got to look and touch your fill of me already. Now it's my turn.”

“I will never have my fill of you.” But he slipped out of bed to quickly discard the rest of his clothes, smiling at the hungry way Crowley followed his movements. Even when he neatly folded his things and tucked his brogues under the bed. Not many partners had waited patiently for him to fuss in the past, so he quickly reached for Crowley and hauled him in for another greedy kiss when he returned to his nest.

He couldn't help but laugh into it and pull Aziraphale down into the sheets with him, right where his alpha should be. Crowley pushed fingers into his curly hair and kept him close with a leg thrown around Aziraphale’s waist. Their lips only parting when Crowley rolled his hips and made Aziraphale break it to gasp. “Like that, alpha? Can have whatever pleasure you want. I'll give it to you.”

“I believe you promised me your mouth.” Aziraphale nuzzled their brows together. “I may tug on your ears a bit, and do be careful.”

“I'm not the one with the sharp teeth.” Not out of heat, anyway. Crowley kissed him and dragged his bottom lip between his teeth to demonstrate their bluntness. “But do pull my ears as much as you like.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I meant that you should be careful for yourself. I have no doubt you'd keep your teeth to yourself, even if they were sharp.”

“Course I would, unless you asked nicely.” Crowley kissed down his throat, tail hitting the bed in excited little thumps as his hands slid over Aziraphale’s chest. “And don't worry about me, I want to feel my jaw ache around you.”

There was little doubt it would. Aziraphale's hands reached up for his ears and squeezed, then nudged him further down. “Let's see how you fare, then.”

Crowley laughed as he was pushed lower, ears twitching in Aziraphale's grasp. He used tongue and lips to kiss down his chest, delighted by the purring rumbles under his mouth and the way Aziraphale couldn't seem to decide on urging him lower or rubbing at his ears. Crowley pushed him onto his back as he kissed over his stomach and settled between his spread legs. His cock sat hard and pink against his thigh. Yes, this was definitely going to strain his jaw in the best way. Crowley gave him a slow pump, watched precome bead at the tip, and swiped his tongue across the head before wrapping his lips around him and sucking for all he was worth.

“Crowley,” he groaned, stunned by the sensation of wet heat around him. The suction was almost too much, but it was just the right intensity for how worked up he was. “My good omega.” He watched him as well as he could, fingers stroking and tugging his hair and his ears. “My beautiful omega.”

Crowley hummed around him, wanted to smirk at the way it made Aziraphale’s fingers tighten in his hair and would have if he wasn't busy taking more of Aziraphale into his mouth. He wouldn't be able to take all of him, not without much more time and practice, but he could make up for it by wrapping one hand around what his mouth couldn't reach and using the other to knead the knot at his base.

Aziraphale very nearly thrusted into his mouth, but kept himself very still but for a whine and a turn of his head to press his cheek against pillows that smelled just like his omega. And, soon, a little bit like himself. But the pressure on his knot shot sparks flaring to life in his mind, zapping out any and all chance of clear thoughts beyond mine and good and, “Such a good mate.”

He could be. He wanted to be a good mate for Aziraphale, to give his alpha pleasure, to be wanted enough to not be set aside. Crowley opened his jaw as far as it could go and bobbed his head with increasing speed. The groaned praise and breathy moans told him he was doing good and he hollowed his cheeks and took him deep enough to feel a touch to the back of his throat.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale breathed, stunned by him. His clever tongue, his busy hand. No one had ever taken him so far. No one had ever tried. An easily brushed aside instinct was jealous that Crowley had practised on anyone before him, but the majority of him was too awed and aroused and pleasured to care about the how. “You perfect thing. My perfect omega.” A hand trailed down and he pitched himself up enough to feel Crowley’s throat. “Mine.”

His. It was exactly what he wanted, needed even. Crowley looked up at him with half lidded eyes, enjoying the pink little 'o' his mouth made and enjoyed it even more when swallowed around him and made the 'o' fall open into a broken moan. He liked it enough to start purring, garbled and rough but a purr nonetheless.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale cried out, head falling back and hips trembling with the effort to keep from thrusting. “S-such a good boy. A wonderful omega. Your mouth, your purrs. You're so special. So wonderful.”

All that praise was surely to go to his head, but he wasn't about to complain. Not even when his jaw began to ache from being stretched open so far for so long. It was a good ache, though. Because it was for Aziraphale, for his alpha. The hand on his cock left to grip Aziraphale’s hip and encourage the movement he was so obviously straining against. Crowley wanted to be used, to bring his alpha pleasure, and give him everything he wanted.

“Oh- Oh, sweet omega, I'll hurt you if I move. It's alright.”

Ridiculous alpha. He wouldn't, Crowley knew he wouldn't, but if he wasn't going to take what he wanted then Crowley would just have to give him the best blow job of his life. He slid back up his cock to suckle at the tip, giving his jaw a short reprieve before sliding back down with a low purr. Setting up a rhythm and taking as much of Aziraphale into his throat as he could.

Aziraphale hadn't expected him to take matters into his own hands, as it were. He gasped and writhed, still keeping himself from thrusting as hard as he wanted. But he was still lulled into it a bit, enough to add to the friction. “Oh, Crowley- Crowley, Crowley-” His mind was quickly dragged away to drown in sensation, in all the ways Crowley’s lips, tongue, hand, throat - everything - made him feel.

It was better than him holding back entirely. He wanted Aziraphale to enjoy this and take what he wanted. Crowley released his hip to grip his cock anew, his own spit slicking his fist, and his knot with the other. The aborted little thrusts and broken off calls of his name made his own tail thump hard on the bed. Even his still spent cock gave a bit of a twitch. He was being good, he was pleasing his mate, and he wanted him to reach that peak.

Aziraphale closed his eyes tight, heightening the sensations further. His omega. His wonderful omega. His jaw ached with the urge to sink fangs into willing flesh, to mark what was his, his, his, his. He never wanted anyone else to have Crowley like this. To have his hands, his mouth, his scent everywhere. He forced himself to open his eyes, to look down. His pretty wagging tail, his lips swollen and stretched around Aziraphale’s own girth, how happy he was to be there. Aziraphale rubbed his ears, trying and failing to distract himself from the swirls of his tongue and the pressure on his swelling knot. He made a keening sound, stunned when Crowley took him just a little deeper, and came with a shout of something he really hadn't yet meant to reveal.

He'd been ready for his orgasm, feeling the tell-tale swelling, and had intended on swallowing him all down but his throat had only worked around a few hot pumps before he heard it. I love you. It was gasped and growled but he knew what he heard. It was surprising enough to make him freeze just long enough to need to pull off before he choked. Aziraphale was still orgasming when he did, spilling wet across his mouth, cheeks, nose. Crowley even had to close one eye to keep from getting come in it.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale groaned, unable to look away from him even as the awareness of what he'd said began to filter in. Nerves tangled with the aftershocks of release, baffling his body and mind enough that he was suddenly a wolf.

It was another surprise, one Crowley wasn't entirely sure what to do with until he smelled it. The leftovers of sex and arousal and pleasure tinged, just slightly, with something sour. Something worried and nervous. And he couldn't have that. He swiftly snatched up a corner of a sheet and gave his face a single swipe to get the majority of the come. It didn't get all of it, his face still tacky, but that was the least of his worries when he crawled up Aziraphale’s prone wolfy self and buried his nose in his furred neck. “Alpha,” he whispered, voice rough. “Aziraphale, I love you.”

Aziraphale whined, startled and unsure. His omega loved him? He rubbed his nose against his cheek, then hesitantly licked and grunted at the tang of his own release. His good omega.

Crowley’s laugh was more of a wheeze and he kissed the side of Aziraphale's muzzle, scratching into his fur. “Do you? Angel, do you really?”

Aziraphale was abruptly human-shaped again, burying his face in Crowley’s neck. “Yes, but I- What a wretched moment to announce it. You deserve a far better declaration than-”

Crowley kissed him, full and passionate and relieved. His alpha loved him. His alpha loved him. It was more than he'd hoped to get and everything he wanted. He kissed him again and again, not caring that his mouth probably tasted like come. “Tell me. Tell me now, then. If it was so wretched.”

“You ridiculous creature.” Aziraphale huffed at him, kissing each of his cheeks. “I love you. I love you, Crowley. My omega, my mate.”

“Alpha,” he breathed, blinking back the tears that threatened. He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't. “I love you, too.”

Aziraphale continued to kiss his face, tongue brushing over the skin to clean him. “You- Do you really?”

“Of course I do. I've almost bloody told you… too many times now. Just-” Crowley sniffed and mentally told himself off for getting all emotional. “Just didn't know if that was okay.”

“Oh, Crowley, of course it's alright.” Aziraphale rolled them, pressing Crowley into his nest, holding him close and tight. “It's more than alright, pet.”

“Yeah, well, I didn't know that.” It was good being pressed into his nest by his alpha- his alpha that loved him- and it smelled like both of them and sex and, yes, love. It smelled like love. Crowley made a soft little whine, his purr and tears both starting at the same time.

“Now you do, my sweet omega.” Aziraphale pressed their cheeks together, his own purrs rumbling even when the tears reached his skin. “Crowley, I love you.”

He sniffed and held on tightly to Aziraphale’s back. It was so much, almost too much, but Crowley refused to allow himself to be overwhelmed by it. “I love you, too,” he whispered. “'M sorry, I didn't mean to get all-” One hand waved dramatically in the air before going right back to where he'd been clutching at him. “Emotional.”

“I don’t mind, pet. You can be teary.” Aziraphale’s tail wagged slowly, and he tucked Crowley into the slope of his shoulder to grant access to his scent gland while his purrs continued. “It’s very sweet.”

Crowley breathed him in with greedy gulps, nuzzling into the gland to stir up his scent even more and rub it into his skin. “In the words of Warlock, it's lame.”

“Not at all, my sweet omega. I’m so glad you’re happy about it. That you love me too. That you wouldn’t be upset with me for feeling so much and admitting it…” He chuckled lightly. “Well, while my cock was down your throat.”

“Of course I wouldn't be upset with you. I mean it's-” He snickered and then once he'd started it was nigh impossible to stop laughing. “It was- It- I mean, heh, it's funny.”

“Yes, yes, laugh all you like. It’s your own fault for being so… talented.”

“Talented?” Still giggling, Crowley pulled back to smirk at him and rub their noses together. “Yes, you did seem to enjoy my talents.”

“I did, and the idea of anyone else possibly getting to experience them after me was rather… I suppose I started feeling a bit possessive. And I couldn’t bite you, obviously, so I suppose it came out another way.”

“Can't say I disapprove of that outlet.” He also couldn't disapprove of the possessiveness, being wanted was, well, everything he wanted. The thought of a claiming bite, however… was more conflicting. Instinctually he wanted it, but… “I- I know it's a bit unconventional, going against the grain, but… ah, could we, erm, hold off on-on the bite? I just- I don't-” He had to look away, unable to meet those storm blue eyes for much longer and ears flattening against his head. “I'm just not ready for that yet.”

That gave Aziraphale pause. It was unconventional, yes, and his instincts immediately rejected the idea. How was anyone supposed to know Crowley was his if he couldn’t mark him? But there was so much to consider. He didn’t think it was fair to mark him without telling Warlock, and there was also the issue of Crowley not being taken seriously as a single parent simply because he was an unclaimed omega. Aziraphale didn’t want to undermine him. “Alright, pet. That’s fine.”

Expecting backlash or an outburst was obviously ridiculous, Aziraphale had never acted like that before, but he couldn't help it. And when it didn't come he wasn't sure what to do. “I'm sorry. I'm sure that's not what you wanted to hear. Didn't mean to ruin the mood.”

“No, it isn’t what I wanted to hear, but I do need to know how you’re feeling.” Aziraphale reached up to stroke Crowley’s ear. “And knowing you’re not ready for my mark doesn’t make me love you less.”

It was a relief of sorts and Crowley pushed into the touch, wanting to be soothed by the attention. “Don't have to be so bloody perfect all the time.”

“Would you rather I throw a fit?” Aziraphale smiled. “I do want to bite you. I want to see my mark on you, and I want you to wear it proudly. I want that very much, Crowley, but I don’t want you to do anything you aren’t ready for.”

“I do want it… s-sort of. I would be proud to have your mark, angel, it's just- it would make things so much more complicated… Which sounds like a shitty excuse when I say it out loud.”

“No, it doesn’t. You have Warlock to consider, and the courts. His therapist. It is complicated, and I don’t want to jeopardise your adoption of him. Nor do I want to be the only reason why anyone would agree for you to adopt him. You both deserve better than that.”

It brought tears to his eyes anew and Crowley hid his face in Aziraphale's shoulder. “Thank you. Thank you for understanding.”

“Of course. I don’t take loving you lightly. You or him.”

“Might have to tell me a few more times to make it sink in.”

“I don’t believe that should be difficult.” Aziraphale cupped Crowley’s chin to tilt his head up, kissing him firmly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Crowley murmured and slipped his hands into Aziraphale’s hair to run fingers over his floppy ears. “I think it's going to take me some time to get used to saying that. Hearing it, too.”

“I’m happy to let you practice saying it as much as you need to, as long as you’d like to hear it in return.” Aziraphale ducked his head into Crowley’s neck, licking at his scent gland. “My lovely omega.”

It was so easy to tilt his head, give Aziraphale all the access to his throat that he could want. Easy to imagine his sharp fangs sinking in and claiming him in full. “Alpha, I can't seem to get enough of you.”

“That, my dearest, is more than alright with me. I don’t plan on going anywhere, I promise you.”

“Better not. Right here is exactly where I want you.”

“Not quite. I’m sure you’d prefer to be filled the next round.”

“Well, yes. Got my number there, I would like that. Though, maybe…” Crowley rolled them, grin wide and tail wagging when he used Aziraphale’s chest to push himself up and straddled his waist. “Maybe you'll let me ride you. Can show you just how much I want your cock, your knot.”

Aziraphale cupped his hips, smile far more soft and sweetly fond than the suggestion warranted. “Mm. Let my pretty omega do all the work?”

“Seemed perfectly fine letting me do all the work earlier.”

Aziraphale’s tail beat against the mattress. “Yes, and you made such a lovely, filthy picture after, with my seed splashed over your face.” If he hadn't panicked, he may have been able to enjoy it longer. Perhaps next time. “But I'd be very happy to let you take your pleasure from me.”

Crowley smirked and sat up straighter, pleased with himself even if it hadn't been his original idea. “Liked that, did you? Seeing me all debauched and covered in your come?”

“Oh, yes. Filthy and beautiful and so very clearly mine.” Aziraphale squeezed his waist, hands sliding up his sides in a smooth stroke.

“As if anyone could mistake me for anyone else's with your scent all over me.” Aziraphale’s hands were so warm, they left gooseflesh in their wake and made him shiver at how cool the air felt without them. “Yours and no one else's.”

If he wore his mark, it would be even more obvious. Aziraphale pushed that down with an easy smile. “Your nest already smells a bit like me.”

“It does. I like it and it'll seep in even more when you sleep here tonight.” He bent to kiss his throat, feeling the way Aziraphale’s strong hands gripped his sides. “Especially when you make love to me again.”

“Yes. Soon, as I do intend to keep you awake a while.” Aziraphale slid his hands up Crowley's back, holding him there. “If you'd like a nap, now would be a fine time.”

“You wouldn't mind? Did take time out of your day to come here, after all.”

“My dear, sleep needs to happen eventually. It did when you stayed with me.”

“Yes, obviously, but that was after we'd quite literally wore each other out.” Crowley laid his head on Aziraphale’s chest with a soft purr, just as warm and safe here as he'd felt in Aziraphale's nest. “Was thinkin' we could watch a film with dinner tonight. If that's alright.”

“I would enjoy that, yes.” Aziraphale kissed the top of his head, caressing his back. “Something you and Warlock like?”

“Hopefully something you'll like too.” He thought for a moment, fingers tracing the padded outline of Aziraphale's collarbone. “Could watch The Lion King… it's like, er, a bastardised version of Hamlet with animals.”

Aziraphale laughed. “It sounds intriguing. We could do that if you like.”

“Only if you want. Plenty of other films to pick from, I'm sure we could find something you like.”

“Crowley, my dear, stop fretting. I'm happy here with you, and I want to learn about the things you and Warlock enjoy. If I dislike something, I'll tell you.”

He huffed and rubbed his cheek on Aziraphale’s chest. “I know. It's just hard to turn off sometimes.”

“I know it is, darling. But I promise you, I would rather find a way for us to blend than a way for me to take over.”

“You’re not taking over, angel. I know you’re not like that.” Though it still made his heart flutter, blending their lives much like their scents. “Besides, I offered The Lion King cause I remember you said Hamlet was your favourite. Figured you’d enjoy making connections to the play.”

“I would. And I don't mind animated features. I have seen one or two at the cinema when I was young.”

“Oh? None since? They’ve come a long way since then, you know.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Is that a marvel at technology or a jab at my age, I wonder.”

Crowley slapped his leg with his tail and shook his head. “If anything it's a jab at the little you've seen in the time you've had.”

Aziraphale tugged his ear fondly. “True enough. But, no, I haven't been to a cinema in years.”

“Mmm, I should take you to one. Make a date of it playing footsie in the dark and eating terrible cinema food.” Crowley smirked a little, his ear twitching in Aziraphale’s grasp. “Now that’s proper modern dating right there.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “How could I refuse?”

“You can't, not when it's your omega who’s asking.”

“My omega.” Aziraphale tweaked his ear, purrs renewing. “My omega whom I love dearly.”

He liked being able to hear his purr like this, the sound slightly different with his ear pressed to Aziraphale’s chest and the gentle vibrations of it lulling him into purring as well. “Might take you up on that nap offer. You're very comfortable to lay on.”

Aziraphale stroked his hair. “Thank you, pet. I'm glad to be of service to you in any way,” he teased lightly, fingers scritching the base of his ear. “You're also very sweet when you sleep.”

Crowley grunted quietly at him, not agreeing but struggling to think of an argument with the soft touches to his ear and the way the fingers of Aziraphale's other hand stroked over his back. It was comfortable, warm, and most importantly safe. “I love you, angel.”

“I love you too, pet. Have yourself a nice kip, and we'll chat in a bit.”

He could very easily do that. Falling asleep with Aziraphale near had been, thus far, not a problem at all. There was no fear or worry here, just a constant background of love and affection. Crowley’s eyes drooped, his purr low and constant, and it only took a few blinks before he fell right asleep.

Aziraphale nuzzled him, soft and fond, breathing him and the way their scents were tangling in. It was difficult to be disappointed over not being able to mark him when Crowley seemed to care for him so very much. When he said he loved him. Hopefully some sort of a solution could be reached, and soon. The heightening of his possessive instincts could only mean a nearing rut, and it was going to be difficult not to bite him. Difficult, but not impossible. He was sure he could keep his fangs at bay if Crowley wasn't ready, but it would be so very nice...

Sigh soft, he carefully adjusted to get one of the blankets up to cover his mate and himself. It would be nice, but he would rather have his mate happy and unmarked than marked and miserable. He wanted Crowley to love him, and he would do what was needed to ensure that.

Chapter Text

The film was charming. There were plenty of nods to Hamlet, yet the tale involving lions and warthogs and hyenas was very unique. He understood why children would enjoy it and could, on some level, understand why adults did as well. The music was catchy, the tale well told, and the voice acting superb. He did enjoy it and he enjoyed dinner, the simple spaghetti and meatballs hardy and well-seasoned. 

There was also something incredibly domestic about being able to watch his omega cook for them and it was entertaining perusing his wine fridge and finding that, yes, most of the bottles were subpar. He suggested using them for cooking, earning a grin from his omega and confusion from young Warlock. Aziraphale was happy to explain cooking wine and how alcohol could be cooked away. 

He was happy to do anything with either of them, even though both he and Crowley were careful not to mention loving one another in front of the pup. There was too much uncertainty still, the future still laid out ineffably before them. 

But it was still a lovely evening and it still meant everything to Aziraphale to know the lovely creature before him felt so strongly about him. 

It was easy to go to Crowley’s bedroom that night and pull him in close. Warlock was in bed for the night and it felt like family. It felt like something Aziraphale could have any day, even knowing that wasn't quite as true as it would've been had Crowley been ready for his Mark. 

“I love you,” he murmured, broad hands spanning that slender waist.

“And I love you,” Crowley whispered back, arms going around his neck to pull him in close. It still felt a bit like a dream that he got to have this; an alpha that loved him and cared enough to spend domestic evenings in with a pup. “So you really did like the film?” 

He chuckled, nuzzling into Crowley’s throat as if he needed access to his scent gland. The room smelled so strongly of him already. “I did. It was very unexpectedly enjoyable.”

Crowley scoffed but tilted his head to give Aziraphale more room at his throat. “As if I'd pick a bad film. Have better taste than that.” 

“You just know me well enough by now to know what I might like, pretty omega.” Aziraphale smiled, then swept an arm beneath his legs to scoop him up. “Did your nap give you plenty of energy?”

Being picked up so easily made his stomach swoop and he didn't think he'd ever get used to it. “I'd say so, had plenty of energy to cook us dinner.” 

“Very true. The question is how much energy do you have left?” Aziraphale smiled, wicked at the corners. “You've been so terribly welcoming, I didn't think you'd mind if I had a small lie down.”

Crowley raised his eyebrows, fingers playing with the soft curls at the back of Aziraphale's neck. “Think I could be alright with that, since you took such good care of me when I stayed with you.” 

“You were a guest in my home. I couldn't possibly treat you poorly.” Aziraphale settled him on the bed, fingers sliding down to his trouser button. “And it's been a pleasure taking these off of you so many times today.”

“Might even let you take them off again,” Crowley murmured, giving a little tug that Aziraphale followed so their lips could meet. He tasted a little bit like the wine they'd had with dinner but mostly just of Aziraphale and Crowley’s tail gave excited little thumps on the bed at the loosening of his trousers. 

“May I?” Aziraphale brushed their noses together, his own tail swishing eagerly. “It may be a bit difficult to fill you with these tight things covering you.”

“Mm- I'm sure you'd manage.” It was a tease but at Aziraphale's eyebrows raised and expectant he snickered. “Yes, yes, of course you can take my trousers off.”

“You just smell so sweet under them. It's very difficult to keep my mouth to myself, you know.”

“Well that kinda comes with the territory of being omega, you know.” 

Aziraphale chuckled, drawing down the zip and lowering himself as well. He tugged his denims down until his teeth had enough room to nip a hip. “Smartarse.”

Crowley snickered, breathless at the sight of his handsome alpha kneeling for him and the way his eyes darkened to storm-blue with arousal on an inhale. “Better smartarse than dumbarse. Least smartarses can-” He gasped, biting off a groan when Aziraphale sucked a kiss to his inner thigh. “-Can read.”

“Mm. Are you still on chapter two?” Aziraphale teased, pulling away trousers and pants. His boots fell easily. “My beautiful omega.”

He still, ridiculously enough, flushed from the praise, pulling his shirt over his head to distract from the way it made his heart flutter. “Maybe. And you're wearing too many clothes.”

Aziraphale laughed, taking that for a yes. “The same amount as I usually do, pet.”

“And he calls me the smartarse,” Crowley muttered, shifting his legs further apart so Aziraphale could get a good look. “Thought we were going to have sex, not presenting a book report.” 

Aziraphale smiled. “You're the one who mentioned reading. Would you prefer I read you? All these lines of your body.”

Crowley huffed and rolled his eyes. He was ridiculous and Crowley loved him for it. “You already read me like a book.” 

“Because every page is fascinating.” Aziraphale kissed up each long leg, purrs rumbling. “And I'm greedy for every chapter.”

“Oh my god.” It shouldn't have been as endearing or as sexy as it was. He should have been more embarrassed or cringing at how cheesy he was being. But instead his cock gave an eager twitch. 

Aziraphale smirked up at him then let his tongue glide up his shaft. “You're a book I'd happily reread a thousand times.”

Crowley gasped, felt the muscles in his stomach flex and slick just beginning to dribble when Aziraphale swirled his tongue around his cock head. “Ah- As many times as you want.” 

“If that were true, you'd never get out of bed again.” And Aziraphale was terrible at letting Crowley take charge of their mutual pleasure, very happy to suck and lap at his cock and slip a finger inside. His entrance was warm and wet, taking him greedily, and he remembered far too well how good it had felt to bury his cock, knot and all, into him.

He couldn't stay sitting up any longer, slumping to his elbows with his head falling back on a soft groan. His hips lifted to give Aziraphale room to push in to the third knuckle and Crowley made an embarrassing noise when he took advantage of it. “Thought- Mmm- Thought you wanted to lay back. Have a- Have a lie down.” 

“It's hardly my fault that you're difficult to resist.”

Crowley huffed out a laugh that was quickly cut off when he had to bite his lip to keep from shouting at the way Aziraphale’s fingertip pointedly rubbed his prostate. His toes were still curling with the zing of it when he grasped Aziraphale’s shirt collar and tugged. “Get up here and kiss me, damn it.” 

Aziraphale slid up, grasping Crowley’s waist. “Such a demanding omega I have,” he teased, lips falling to the gland at his throat to taste the sweet caramel apples.

It wasn't exactly what he'd asked for but Crowley couldn't find it in him to complain about the way Aziraphale lapped at his scent or the hint of his sharp fangs that made him shiver with want. “You love me,” he responded, fingers delving into Aziraphale’s hair to scratch just behind his floppy ears. 

The scratches and the taste had him moaning. “I do love you, pet. Very much.”

“I know.” It was clear as anything in his scent, a promise of safety and care. He only let Aziraphale lavish attention to his scent gland for a moment longer before guiding him up and up. “Kiss me, angel, please,” he begged, finally falling to the mattress with Aziraphale hovering above. 

It was impossible to deny him. As sweet as his scent was, there was nothing worth sampling that was quite like his mouth. He was sweeter than any caramel, more tempting than any apple had ever been. Aziraphale ached to sink his fangs into him, but settled for the chance to lap at his tongue.

His scent was so heady like this, rich and enticing. Just as enticing as the little moans and hums Aziraphale made while he tasted him. Trading kisses like this felt like being savored in the best way and it made him want to submit to anything Aziraphale would ask of him; to take his knot and his bite and finally know what it felt like to have that permanent bond.

But Crowley had never been very good at listening to those things, something that he'd been told meant he needed a 'firm hand'. Well, sod that. He let Aziraphale relax, sink into the motion of their mouths and the give and take, and the second his guard was down he pounced. His bedroom shifted and flipped and Crowley panted into Aziraphale’s open mouth from his new, higher position. “Got you.” 

Aziraphale smiled up at him, hands finding his waist. It was so nice to have his lean weight on top. “And what are you going to do with me?”

Crowley grinned back at him. Admittedly there'd been a tiny voice in his head warning him that flipping them like that was going to be a very bad idea, that he'd make Aziraphale angry with him, and he was never gladder to have ignored it. “Well, first I'm going to take these clothes off of you.” He ran a hand down Aziraphale’s chest and felt the hard beating of his heart. “And then I'm going to ride that massive alpha cock of yours.” 

Aziraphale nearly laughed, but his scent flared with arousal and his gaze was far too predatory for someone on his back. “You'd best move quickly then, my beautiful omega.”

His eyes lit up, tail picking up speed as he started to make quick work of Aziraphale's shirt buttons. “And what is my handsome alpha going to do if I don't undress him quick enough?” 

Oh, he had a stunning omega. Vibrant hair, golden eyes, and beautiful from the tips of those black-edged ginger ears to tail. Eager to please and eager to take his pleasure exactly how he wanted. Aziraphale wanted to let him, purrs tipping towards an encouraging growl. “I might have to encourage you to not bother taking everything off.”

It was a surprise. He'd watched Aziraphale carefully remove and fold his clothes multiple times now. They were something he clearly cared a great deal about, and yet he'd let Crowley potentially soil them. The flare of his scent was impossible to miss, fingers slowing with the shirt half undone and exposing Aziraphale’s flushed chest. “Promise?” 

“I wouldn't say such a thing if I didn't mean it, pet.”

“Good.” He squeezed Aziraphale’s hips with his thighs and ground down on him with a groan, feeling the hard line of him against his arse. 

Aziraphale’s head fell back on his own low groan. “Wicked thing. You just want to make a mess of me.”

Crowley grinned while he shimmied back and watched the way Aziraphale’s eyes tracked him, not losing his attention for even a second. “Can't sneak anything past you, can I?”

“Not a thing.” There was something very debauched about having Crowley above him, all long sinuous lines and without a stitch on. “You’ll still need to open my trousers if you want to be filled, darling.”

“I'm gettin' there. I'm gettin' there.” Not that he wasn't similarly eager. And of course the tenting of his trousers was almost ridiculous, a bulge that strained against button, zip, and fabric that made Crowley feel just how empty he was. Fingers worked quickly on his belt and the rest until his trousers were just opened enough for Crowley get his hand inside and around that cock he wanted so badly. 

“Bugger,” Aziraphale gasped, hips lifting in search of more attention. His fingers were so long, nearly surrounding him entirely. “Crowley.”

His tail swished across Aziraphale’s legs and ears twitched as he released him from the confines of his pants. “That's it, angel.” He gave his erection a slow pump from knot to shiny red tip and watched fluid bead up. “Can't wait to get you in me again.” 

“A-ah-and you take me so well, my omega.” Aziraphale’s hips rocked into the strokes, eager to feel him again. Tight and wet and clinging. “You should let me open you up properly.”

Crowley rolled his eyes and lifted up. “Don't worry about that. Thought you wanted me enough to not undress.”

“I don't see how that also means I can't prepare you. There are plenty of ways to go about that.”

“Don't need it, I'll be fine.” 

Aziraphale growled softly. He couldn't help it. The idea of Crowley being able to take him with such little prep was a stunning one, overwhelming to instincts that made him want to get Crowley on his knees and just take. “So confident.”

He grinned - preened, really - and scooted his way back up. The sudden flare of arousal in Aziraphale's rich scent was a thing to be proud of, he'd caused it after all. And it only heightened when he positioned Aziraphale beneath him and ground down to coat the length of him with his slick. “Yes, confident enough to take my alpha whenever he wants.” 

“Or whenever you want.” Aziraphale grasped his hips. Not to slow or settle or even guide him, but to give himself an anchor and just because he liked to hold him. “You just want to feel me all day tomorrow, don't you? Every step you take, you'll think about me.”

Crowley made an agreeing hum. He did want to feel him later, preferably until they could have this again but that wasn't possible so he'd just have to make do. The pressure against his rim reminded him that, yes, Aziraphale was A Lot. He breathed through his nose, willing muscles to relax, and the initial breach was a sharp sting that made him hiss. “Fffuck yes I'm going to feel you tomorrow.”

Part of Aziraphale wanted to tell him not to hurt himself, to remind him that he didn't have to impress him. He already had. That part gripped Crowley’s waist tighter, but there was also the part that didn't want him to stop. That could smell Crowley’s pleasure as well as see it. “You're beautiful. Absolutely stunning.”

The praise helped, made him want to be everything Aziraphale said he was. He planted a hand on Aziraphale’s chest, feeling the thumping rhythm of his heart as he slowly worked his way down. He could feel every inch, every stretch, the pleasure laced sting that made the tip of his tail curl with Aziraphale’s hands a grounding presence. “Ha- Yeah? Ssspeak for yoursself.” 

Eyes half-lidded, cock slowly but surely sheathed in his omega, his mate, Aziraphale could barely shake his head. He wanted desperately to thrust up or yank Crowley down faster, but kept from doing either by a hair. “I'd rather speak about you. How good you are, how tight and warm, but so very determined. You surround me brilliantly, pet, and your pretty golden eyes are molten. I could write several novels just about you.”

Crowley wanted to tease him about already putting him in one of his books, but the start of it turned into a whine instead. He felt so full already, stretched taut almost to the point of too much. It was a good burn, the kind that wouldn't fade right away, and he gave an experimental roll of his hips just to feel the drag of just how much he'd already taken. 

Aziraphale growled instead of moaning as loudly as he wanted to, fingers digging into Crowley’s skin tight enough to bruise. “That's it, darling. My sweet pet. You don't like to be empty, do you? You're doing so well.”

“Yesss-” The hissing was involuntary but he was more concerned with taking Aziraphale deeper with each downward motion than his speech. He wanted to feel the press of that knot, to take it too. And he liked the pressure of his fingers, knowing they'd leave the evidence of their love making just as surely as the ropes had left marks around his chest. 

“That's it. That's it, Crowley, you're so good.” He was taking him with such little prep, body opening greedily for his girth. A perfect mate. “You're exquisite.”

He covered one of Aziraphale's soft hands with one of his own and made a triumphant little groan at finally - finally - feeling the bulge of his knot right where Crowley wanted it. With a squeeze of his hand, he guided Aziraphale’s back, behind and down to where he was stretched tightly around him. “Ah- I'll take your knot, too. All of you.” 

Aziraphale traced where they were joined, feeling the bulge of his knot against Crowley’s stretched rim, and pleased purrs rumbled. “You will. I know you will, my greedy omega.”

“Greedy for you.” Crowley let out a slow breath, let himself get used to the stretch. It was a lot but it was also good, an intimate connection to his mate. He didn't have the patience to wait very long and slowly rose up, feeling the delicious drag against sensitive walls. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale whined, head falling back and eyes squeezing shut in his efforts to keep from thrusting up and bury himself deep again. “Y-you spoil me.”

He dropped back down with a punched out groan, lit up from the inside out. “Only- Mmm- Only because you spoil me first.” 

He'd hardly begun to spoil Crowley. He made his eyes open, watching Crowley’s thighs flex when he lifted himself back up for another thrust. He watched his cock bob and drip, dampening his own half-open shirt. Aziraphale could hardly breathe for the want of him, for the way his heart felt so full. This beautiful, strong omega loved and wanted him. His tail thumped against the mattress when Crowley took him deep again, and Aziraphale grasped his hips to still him so he could grind up and rub his knot teasingly against Crowley’s rim. “Beautiful thing,” he purred.

Part of him wanted to shake his head and deny it, for all he knew others saw him that way it wasn't something Crowley saw himself, but that seemed like such a ridiculous thing to do with an alpha knot deep in his arse, who smelled of so clearly of want and desire, and who was looking at him like he could be devoured. That teasing press at his entrance was just another reason to whine with instinctual need instead of trying to deny something his alpha obviously meant. “Alpha…” 

“Omega,” he growled, letting his grip lessen so Crowley could move of his own accord. “Keep going. Use your alpha.”

Crowley didn't need to be told twice, not with that low growl in his voice. He moved his hips in a sensuous roll, the initial burn giving way to spikes of pleasure that made his toes curl. That fact that Aziraphale wasn't even fully undressed was a constant reminder with his opened shirt and how the cold metal of his trouser zip dug into his heated skin every time he took him deep. There was going to be a damp place on his trousers if there wasn't already and the thought that they might retain a hint of the scent of his slick later had a moan spilling out. 

“Pretty thing. My beautiful omega. I could listen to your pleasure for days on end.” His hands slid down from his hips to stroke his thighs, skating up and only just brushing over his length. “I love the sounds you make. Move a little faster. Let me hear more.”

It was an easy enough thing to do. Using the hand still on Aziraphale’s chest as leverage, he sped up the motion of his hips, lengthened the rise and fall to fill himself up again and again. A soft rumble, something like a purr, slipped out with each moan and gasp. He couldn't help it, especially not when his alpha requested to hear more of him. 

“Good,” Aziraphale groaned. “Perfect. My omega.” It was such a tight fit. He could feel every inch of himself squeezed by his omega's channel. The idea of his knot squeezing in had him whimpering, trying to keep his sounds below the shouts that wanted to escape.

“Alpha- Alpha- A-ah!” Crowley tilted his head back on his bitten off cry. He couldn't be too loud, not with the pup just down the hall, but that didn't stop his whines every time he came down on the wide swell of that knot and knew just how good it would feel once he finally got it inside of him. 

Aziraphale’s hips began to lift with each fall, letting Crowley lead but eager to help. Eager to have him and not let him go. “Gorgeous creature,” he moaned, forcing his eyes to stay open so he didn't miss a moment and breathing in the scent of their mixed arousal. “My omega, my Crowley.”

His. His. His. It was like a mantra in his mind, bookending the slapping of skin and the little pleased grunts Aziraphale made when he wasn't whispering praise. “That's it. That's it. Come on, a-aaangel.” The press of that knot was a tease that made him ache and squeeze. He wanted it, wanted to be locked to him so badly it bordered on frustration. But with Aziraphale moving with him, not as rough or powerful as Crowley knew he could be, it kept the pleasure from tipping over that far. He gave another drop back down, felt the give and the stretch and the renewed pleasure-pain of taking something his body hadn't been fully prepared for. 

“Bugger,” Aziraphale gasped, holding Crowley down so he could grind his knot against his tight rim. His jaw ached, fangs sharp glints when he bit his lip, but he didn't ask Crowley to lean down and accept them. Nor did he flip them over and just take what he wanted. “Are you close, my omega? Is this what you wanted to feel?”

Crowley nodded, whine high in his throat as they rocked, and every instinct calling out for his alpha to claim and mate him. The insistent press of his knot was a good distraction from asking for any such thing and Crowley arched, head thrown back when he finally got what he wanted; Aziraphale’s knot worked past the tight ring of muscle and pressing at all the right places that made him shout as he came untouched across Aziraphale’s chest and shirt. 

Aziraphale bit harder into his lip, the squeezing spasm of Crowley’s muscles staggering. He continued to grind into him, waiting for Crowley’s orgasm to abate before he began to thrust in earnest. He knew his omega could take it, listening to every dazed sound of pleasure and breathing in a haze of the same, clinging to those sweet caramel apples. Gripping his waist, keeping him in place, it only took a few more thrusts before Aziraphale plunged deep and let his knot swell. He barely held back the howl as he flooded Crowley with his seed, grinding his hips upwards as if that would help ensure that the omega above him took every bit.

Crowley gasped, filled with the warmth of his release, and felt his cock give an extra little spurt at having his prostate pressed so intently. The waves of pleasure ebbing into a more liquid feeling in his limbs, Crowley slumped, languid and loose as he began to purr in earnest. 

Aziraphale guided him down carefully, nuzzling his soft ears as his purrs rumbling low. He wanted to just listen to Crowley’s, but he was too contented to quiet his own. At least he could feel them, arms wrapping securely around Crowley to keep him as close as possible.

It was perfect. Crowley rubbed his cheek on Aziraphale’s chest and didn't care about the sticky mess between them, not with those warm strong hands petting down his back in soothing strokes. “Mmm- You're warm.” 

Aziraphale’s tail thumped against the bedding. “Well, I imagine being nude adds to your chill.”

“Mmhmm. A bit. I'll need to turn the thermostat up, it's getting too cold to keep the heat off.” 

“We're coming into winter, pet. You should absolutely be using the heat.” Aziraphale kissed the top of his head. “You and Warlock are both too thin for the colder months.”

Crowley snorted and rolled his eyes even though Aziraphale couldn't see them. “Well you're working on fixing that with all the good food you feed us.” 

“Mm. You fed us tonight, and you did a lovely job.”

His tail wagged happily at having provided an acceptable meal for his pup and alpha. “That's high praise coming from you.” 

“It's very honest. You were correct when you told me you know how to cook.”

“I know I was. Did you doubt me?” 

“Perhaps. You did cut yourself the first time we were in the kitchen together.”

“And you were being a handsome distraction.” 

Aziraphale smiled, a hand sliding up to tweak one of his ears. “I suppose I'm not as handsome tonight.”

Crowley huffed and slapped Aziraphale’s bare leg with his tail. “You're lucky I didn't burn the bloody meatballs. Just had to be standing there looking all adorable.” 

“I was only there to offer my help should you need it.” Aziraphale cupped Crowley’s chin, tilting his head up to rub their noses together. “You're very impressive, my darling omega.”

“Speak for yourself.” He tipped his head to brush their lips together, tail thumping. “I love you.” 

“I love you too. Enough to tell you I am speaking for myself. You deserve every compliment I give you, Crowley. You deserve everything I give you, else you wouldn't be getting it.”

“Angel,” he whined and butted his head under Aziraphale’s chin. He was still getting used to having someone who wanted and actually meant the nice things he said. 

Purring, Aziraphale kissed his ear. “I understand it's a lot for you to take in, pet, but I do love you. I know you're not perfect, Crowley. I do. But you're perfect for me, and I do believe that's all that matters.”

It was good to hear that purr, to have his ear pressed right to that gentle rumble. “I'm glad. You're a very special alpha, Aziraphale. Sometimes I don't quite know what to do with you.” 

“Exactly what you've been doing, my darling.” Aziraphale stroked his back. “I'm a simple enough man, I should think.”

“Simple is never a word I would use for you, angel.” 

“No?”

“Nah. Not simple. You're very particular about what you like and I count myself lucky to be among the things you deem worthy.” 

He chuckled, soft and low. “I think you're among my favourite things.”

“Good.” Crowley pressed a kiss to his throat. “I like having top spot. As I deserve.” 

Aziraphale hummed. “You deserve the world, pet.”

“Now I don't know about all that. I've got all I want right here.” 

Purrs growing, Aziraphale teasingly nipped at Crowley’s ear. He loved that he'd been keeping them out more. He'd been getting more comfortable with his wolfen parts and Aziraphale was hopeful it would mean a chance to romp with him fully transformed one day. “Coincidentally, so do I.”

Crowley hummed, happy to be held safe and secure and wanted. He stifled a yawn with twitching ears, burrowing right into Aziraphale’s hold in his nest. “Wore me out.” 

“You wore yourself out.” Aziraphale happily held him close. No matter how much he wanted to get out of his sticky clothes, he wanted to stay near more. “Have a kip, my dear, and then we'll shower.”

With a huff Crowley pushed himself up and arched an eyebrow. “No, no. We're gonna clean up first. Any more 'kips' and I'll be awake all night.” 

Aziraphale’s lips twitched. “And there's an issue with that?”

Crowley smirked and rubbed their noses together. “Might be. Why? Have something planned for me?” 

“I have endless plans for you, my sweet omega.”

“You'll have to tell me about some of them while we're in the shower.” 

“Mmhm. You bossy thing,” he teased, trying not to be too disappointed when his knot began to lessen. “How are you feeling, though? No pain?”

He hummed, sitting up to stretch with a small groan at the change in pressure. There was a lingering throb in his backside but that was just to be expected. “'M good. Nothing I wouldn't be entirely willing to feel again.” 

“Eager thing.” Aziraphale stroked his hips, Crowley’s skin already showing signs of impending bruising. That he'd be willing to do this all again had Aziraphale’s tail thumping and his ears twitching. “I'm going to treat you very well in the shower.”

“You've been treating me very well all night.” 

He planned to treat him well the rest of their lives, tail beating faster at the praise. “I'm very glad you think so.” He managed to stand, Crowley cradled in his arms, and kissed his brow. “Let's continue, shall we? I wouldn't want you to start regretting my invitation into your home.” 

“As if I would,” Crowley breathed, arms going around his neck. He didn't think he'd ever not have that swooping sensation in his stomach whenever Aziraphale decided to pick him up. “You'd have to do much worse than letting me stew in my own spunk to regret this.” 

Aziraphale laughed. “I'm so glad to hear it,” he purred and happily carried Crowley into the bathroom. 

The morning dawned lazy and sleepy, not how Aziraphale normally got up and began his day. But there was a soft, warm omega who smelled better than any tea snuggled back against him. Aziraphale's purrs started up immediately, arm looped around his bare middle and lips soft against the nape of his neck. “My omega,” he murmured. 

Even in his sleepy haze Crowley purred right back. His nest smelled of a beloved mate and the fingers that petted over his stomach were soft and familiar. It was safe here, safe to rest and safe to be vulnerable. The alpha at his back was his and wouldn't let anything happen to him. 

Aziraphale purred louder in response, lips continuing to pepper his shoulders. “My beautiful omega. So lovely.” He nudged him back further, pressing him that much closer.

They were pressed shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip, not a whisper of space between them. The edges of Crowley’s lips curled up with a sleepy huff, hand covering the one pressed to his belly. “Mornin' t' you too.” 

Aziraphale’s tail rustled the covers as it wagged, lips travelling up to the backs of soft ears. “Good morning, pet.”

Said ears twitched, tickled by a puff of breath. “Sleep alright?” 

“Marvelously. And you?”

“Mmm. Fantastic.” And he could still feel a residual soreness from their nightly activities. It was a good sort of ache, a reminder that his alpha wanted him. 

“Any pain?” he hummed, fingers tangling with Crowley’s. He didn't smell anything wrong, but couldn't help but ask. 

“Only the good kind.” 

“Good.” Aziraphale teased his ears a bit more, unable to help himself. “I've enjoyed staying with you in your nest. I hate to admit it, but your bed may be more comfortable than mine.”

He only let his ears twitch a handful of times before giving his head a shake and turning it just enough to stop it from happening. The bastard. “Of course it's more comfortable. You do know you're supposed to get a new mattress every decade or so, don't you? And how old is yours again?” 

“Mm...” Aziraphale kissed his temple, genuinely unsure of the age of his squeaky mattress. “I don't think I'll answer that.”

“It's bloody ancient, I knew it.” Crowley rolled to face him, leg going around his hip to keep him close. “No wonder you barely sleep on it.” 

“If I recall, I barely slept on this one.” Aziraphale nuzzled him fondly, their lips brushing. “And you didn't have any objections or complaints.”

“Not a single one.” He hadn't had any complaints about the lack of sleep in Aziraphale’s bed, either. “Could always go back to sleep. Warlock won't be up for a few hours yet.” 

“We could.” Aziraphale nipped his bottom lip playfully. “Or, perhaps, we take advantage of him still sleeping.”

“Oohh, I like the way you think, angel.” Crowley’s tail thumped under the covers as he chased Aziraphale’s mouth for more. “Very clever of you.” 

Smiling, he rolled them. Atop his omega, purrs rumbling, Aziraphale kissed him again. “I am rather clever, yes.”

“You are.” Clever and handsome and impossibly kind and, somehow, all Crowley’s. He wrapped arms around Aziraphale’s neck and pulled him down. He wanted to feel that weight pressing him into his nest, be surrounded by his bourbon and chocolate alpha scent and-

Bzzzzt! 

Crowley froze and felt Aziraphale tense above him, lovely purrs turned to a growl before he seemed to remember himself and actually looked sheepish. “'S alright, angel,” Crowley murmured rubbing at his shoulders. “Just the doorbell. Probably some door-to-door sales shite. Just ignore it.” 

“Are you sure? I didn't think it was so simple for such persons to enter your building.”

“There's a few that live in the building. Annoying gits. They'll go away.” 

Aziraphale hummed. “Hopefully they don't awaken Warlock before doing so.”

“The hellspawn could sleep through an earthquake.” Crowley pulled him back down. “And besides, I'd much rather be right here.” 

Aziraphale chuckled. “Yes. In your nice, newer-than-my bed. Where exactly were we?”

“I do believe we were right here.” And Crowley kissed him, fingers delving in Aziraphale's sleep mussed hair and lips parting on a soft sound when his tongue swiped across his bottom lip. 

Aziraphale relaxed against him, giving him the weight he seemed to enjoy. It was nice to make his omega feel safe and secure, nicer when a grind of his hips brought on a flare of arousal in his scent. “My-” 

Bzzzzt! 

“For Heaven's sake.”

Crowley groaned, head falling back to glare at the dark ceiling. It was too bloody early for people to be ringing doorbells. “Bloody obnoxious gits.” 

“I should say so. This is a benefit of living above a shop with no doorbell, you know.”

“Oh, don't you start,” Crowley grumbled at him, annoyance only growing when it rang again. 

Aziraphale kissed his cheek. “They're very insistent, pet. Shoo them away and come back to bed.”

He didn't want to get out of bed. It was warm and comfortable, but they'd never be able to actually enjoy each other with that buzzing going on. “Fine, fine.” Crowley reluctantly rolled out of bed with a grunt, now that his legs were moving he could better feel the aftereffects of their coupling. The buzzer sounded again as he padded over to his dresser to pull out a pair of black silk pyjama bottoms. They hung low on his waist and he had to smirk a little at the flare in Aziraphale's scent. “See something you like?” 

Aziraphale smiled, adoring his handsome omega. “Something I love, actually.”

“Sap,” Crowley muttered, cheeks pinking at the sight of Aziraphale, all soft and gorgeous, sitting in the middle of his dark bed. Though it was ruined by the sound of his doorbell. “Stay right there. I won't be long.” Crowley pointed at him as he walked away and knew Aziraphale was looking at the way he swished his hips as he left.

The flat was colder than he liked and Crowley shivered a little, gooseflesh rising up on his arms. He did need to turn the heat on, though he was more concerned with making the bloody doorbell stop than raising the temperature. At this rate they'd wake Warlock up and he'd have to toss out having morning sex.

He didn't care about his lack of clothes or the bruises that could be seen on his hips and chest when he flung the door open on another buzz. “Do you have any idea how…” Crowley trailed off, the words and frustration dying out in the face of a too-wide smile that wasn't nearly as genuine as it appeared and another that just looked mostly annoyed. 

“Any idea how...?” The alpha's smile stayed big and bright, brows lifting as he waited for an answer. When none was forthcoming, he spread his hands. “Well. I hope you aren't teaching Warlock to answer doors half-naked.”

Crowley bristled, biting back the replies he wanted to snap about there being nothing wrong with how he was dressed. “Of-of course not.” He ground out instead. “You woke us up.” 

Gabriel pointedly checked his watch. “Hm. I suppose houses don't sell before nine in the morning.”

“And why are you covered in bruises?” the dark-skinned beta beside Gabriel asked, gesturing limply towards him. “Been in a... fight?”

His face flushed and ears fell flat. Why did they have to show up now? “It's the weekend. I'm not working.” And it wasn't any of their business what happened in the privacy of his bedroom. 

“We know. We do have your schedule, Mr. Crowley.” Gabriel’s smile returned. “Are you going to let us in?”

It was embarrassing. It was so so embarrassing. Crowley dug his fingers into the door and stepped aside. “Of course. Please come in Mr. Archer, Ms. Calix.” 

As soon as Gabriel stepped in, he noticed the tan coat hanging from the rack. He also breathed in, brows arching finely. “Warlock is here, isn't he?”

“Yes, he's here. I let him sleep in on the weekends.” Like pups should be allowed to do. 

“Mmhm. Is he... usually around when you have a strange alpha in the home?”

There was no way to fight off the way his face reddened. There wasn't anything inappropriate or shameful about having Aziraphale over, even with Warlock here. They were dating. It was normal. But it was the way Archer said it, as if he were doing something he should be ashamed of. “Just because his scent is strange to you doesn't mean it's strange to us.” 

“Ah. Uriel, was our office made aware of a developing relationship between Mr. Crowley and an alpha?” 

“No,” she replied shortly. 

“Mmhm. Well.” He clapped his hands together. “Isn't that interesting.”

Crowley clenched his hands at his sides, feeling very much like he was being examined under a microscope and the uncomfortable, unfamiliar metallic-paper scent wasn't helping. “No one said anything about having to report dating someone.”

“Of course. Let's meet him. Shall we?”

Chapter Text

He didn't smell right.

Aziraphale was out of bed and halfway across the room before Crowley could fully shut the door. “What? What's happened, pet? Are you alright? Is Warlock?”

“He's fine. I'm fine. We're fine.” He let out a breath when Aziraphale’s fingers curled around his face. His rich scent was so much better than the one attached to the alpha currently wandering their living room. “I'm just- They're- It's a surprise home visit.”

“A home visit? One of those... those court things to see if you're raising Warlock correctly.”

“Mmhmm. Pretty sure the alpha and beta assigned to us hates me.”

Aziraphale swallowed his growl, then gave Crowley a firm kiss. “Let's get dressed, then. If there's an alpha out there, I'm sure he's already aware of my presence.”

“He does. Smelled you right away.” And he didn't like the way the shame bubbled up again. They weren't doing anything wrong.

Aziraphale smiled, resting their brows together. “That isn't such a bad thing, is it? My scent's already in your home.”

“No, it's not bad. It's not bad at all. I like having your scent here.” No matter what Gabriel Archer thought.

“I'm glad. Now let's get dressed so you can shoo them out as soon as possible. And we can resume our day, yes?”

Crowley nodded, rubbing their brows together and let himself be close and loved for a moment longer. He wasn't a bad parent for Warlock, there wasn't anything wrong with having Aziraphale here, and he wasn't going to let those pillocks take his pup away from a home that loved and wanted him.

That didn't stop him from fretting the entire time they dressed. It would be so easy for them to decide he was unfit, for Warlock to be taken away and him be unable to do a damn thing about it. At least Aziraphale’s steady presence kept him from spiralling into a panic. He had someone in his corner and that was better than having no one at all. And it was just automatic to reach for his hand and twine their fingers together as he opened the door. They were a team.

“Alright. You wanted to meet him, here he is.”

Aziraphale scanned them both quickly. The alpha was tall, well-built, and admittedly handsome, but there was something... off. Something unusual. Perhaps it was the sharp glint of fangs in his smile. Unnecessary. And his oddly metallic scent was buried in something not quite a book. Paperwork, maybe.

The beta looked vaguely bored, a little annoyed, and she scanned him even more judgementally than he did her. She didn't quite have a scent, but it was hard to tell beneath her perfume. It was difficult to keep his nose from wrinkling at its presence, but that would be ruder than wearing it.

He squeezed Crowley’s hand gently, supportively. “Hello,” he greeted calmly. “My name is Aziraphale Fell.”

The alpha stepped forward, hand outstretched. “Gabriel Archer. How long have you and Mr. Crowley been involved?”

His grip was too tight for Aziraphale’s tastes, his violet eyes flicking up to his ears with a judgemental sort of mirth. “Several weeks,” he replied simply, deciding honesty was best, “or I wouldn't be here. Crowley doesn't allow just anyone into his home.”

The sound of disbelief Ms. Calix made nearly made Aziraphale growl, but he only squeezed Crowley’s hand again. “So Warlock knows you.”

“He does. Obviously.”

“Of course he does,” Crowley butted in. “Warlock is very fond of him.”

“Mmhm.” Gabriel looked at Crowley as if it was a hardship. “Why don't you go fetch him? So we can confirm that.”

Crowley gritted his teeth, annoyed at first, but… Warlock was fond of Aziraphale. They might not believe the things Crowley and Aziraphale were telling them but they couldn't possibly overlook the physical proof of it. “Alright, I'll go wake him up.” He let go of Aziraphale's hand, but kissed his cheek before pulling away entirely. Gabriel could be disapproving all he wanted, Crowley loved this sweet alpha.

Aziraphale loved him just as much, smiling after him until a throat was cleared. “So, Mr. Fell, what exactly is it that you do?”

“I own a book and antique shop in Soho, and I'm an author besides.”

“An author,” he repeated, glancing at his cohort. “That doesn't sound particularly stable.”

“My contract is, as a matter of fact, and I do have several global bestsellers so the royalties alone provide a steady paycheck. Not to mention the fact that my business has been in my family since 1800. I'm afraid I can't imagine much of a better track record.” They were not going to use him as proof of instability. Absolutely not.

And they both seemed displeased by that, though the flicker only lasted a moment on Gabriel’s face before he smoothed it right back into that suspect cheerfulness. Aziraphale imagined his murder would be quite entertaining and satisfying in his current book. Something involving his smug superiority and karma. “No. That certainly does sound impressive. Though... I've never heard of you.”

“That's fine. There are a great many people in this world and several authors besides. I can't imagine you take much time to read fiction, Mr. Archer.”

“How do you spell your name?” Uriel asked, tapping a pen on her clipboard. “We have to take a record of everyone who's here.”

Aziraphale gritted his teeth, floppy ears flat, but he gave her the spelling and hoped Crowley hurried.

He was trying to hurry, but preteen pups were difficult enough to get up and moving on school days and nigh impossible on weekends. He knocked twice and only waited long enough to hear a sleepy groan before opening his door and striding inside. Warlock would be grumpy about it, but he'd understand once he was actually awake. “Come on, pup. I need you up.”

“Why?” he mumbled, dragging his blankets up over his head.

“We've got company.”

“Duh. I knew Aziraphale was sleeping over. Why do I have to get up?”

“Not him. The bad kind of company. Archer and Calix are back.”

Warlock peeked at Crowley from the edge of his blanket, frowning. “Seriously?”

“Serious as a heart attack.” Crowley pinched the bridge of his nose and huffed a sigh. “They wanna see you and Aziraphale interacting.”

“That's stupid,” he muttered. “Can I get dressed first?”

“Yeah, that's fine. Just don't fall back asleep on me.”

“I won't.” He knew these people could take him away. They couldn't grab his arm and haul him out without police involvement, but they could still write terrible things on their clipboards and make things more difficult during their next court appearance. The thought of sleeping with them in his space was too awful to even think about doing so. “I don't want them here.”

Crowley visibly softened, he didn't like it just as much as Warlock. “I know. They won't be here very long and once they leave I'll make us all breakfast. Alright?”

Warlock pouted under the blanket. “Waffles?”

“Oh, alright, if you're gonna twist my arm like that I'll make waffles.” Crowley grinned at the eyeroll he received. “Even have some fresh bananas you can put on 'em.”

“Okay.” He fidgeted with the fabric. “Aziraphale’s gonna stay, isn’t he? Or is he, like… is he just gonna leave?” Maybe it was too much for him. It wasn’t like he’d signed up to deal with weird stuff like courts and therapists and stupid social workers and whatever.

“He's not going to leave,” Crowley promised. He trusted that Aziraphale would not be so cruel as all that. He loved them. They were a team. “Speaking of, I need to go make sure they're not tag teaming our poor alpha.”

“If he treats them like the people on Twitter or- or his customers, he’s probably fine.”

“Probably. But he's still technically our guest and it's not nice to leave him dealing with our problem.” He turned to leave and definitely agreed with Warlock's annoyed sigh. “Don't dawdle, I'd like them gone as soon as possible too.”

“I know. I’m coming.”

“Faster!” Crowley called, shutting the door just in time to hear a pillowy thump on the other side. He let himself grin for a moment - being a little annoying never failed to amuse - before going back to the living room. It didn't feel fair to leave Aziraphale to Archer's grilling alone.

It was a relief to see him again, Aziraphale taking his hand. He was a very welcome sight after being asked why he thought it was alright to have his ears and tail out around an impressionable child. He didn’t want to admit that they were stuck, having the distinct impression that this Gabriel fellow would somehow use it against Crowley. “How is he?”

“He's just fine. Bit grumpy at being woken up.”

Aziraphale smiled softly. “A bit like you, then.”

“Suppose so, guess it runs in the family.”

“That doesn’t surprise me at all.”

Gabriel cleared his throat. “So you’re intimately acquainted with their sleeping habits?” he asked and Aziraphale had to bite back a growl.

“There’s hardly a reason to deny that Crowley and I have been intimate. He’s stayed at my home, and I’m obviously here now. As for Warlock, he’s napped at my home as young pups tend to do.”

“Who I have sex with is no one's business but mine and theirs,” Crowley grumbled, hating the way Gabriel’s mouth twisted and Uriel's eyebrows went up while she scribbled on her clipboard.

“It is important to know if you’re having it often enough with strangers. That can’t be good for Warlock’s development,” Gabriel pointed out, and Aziraphale did growl. He couldn’t help it. What they had was special, for one. Additionally, Crowley would never do anything to upset Warlock’s development. It had taken ages to even be invited to their home.

“What he doesn't know is happening isn't going to affect any bloody development.” And having his sexual history thrown into question was just more piled on embarrassment. Thank someone they hadn't done any looking into past relationships, he didn't think they'd have let him keep Warlock to begin with if they did.

“So you do have frequent sex with strangers?” Gabriel asked.

Aziraphale’s spine straightened. “My omega does no such thing. Your accusation has no bearing in reality. This is my first time here because Crowley is a cautious, caring guardian. And how peculiar that you would stop writing as soon as something positive is said,” he added, slanting Uriel a sharp look. “Almost as if this visit is entirely biassed.”

That was a given, in Crowley’s opinion. Last time he'd been accused of not feeding him properly just because of a candy wrapper being left out and had been ordered to save and report all food receipts. “Angel…”

The rumbling growl stopped, Aziraphale’s grip on Crowley’s hand gentling. “So sorry, my dear. I don’t mean to overstep.”

It wasn't overstepping so much as getting angry at them wasn't going to help. “'S alright.”

“I’m not so sure if it’s appropriate for Warlock to see an alpha behaving so meekly,” Gabriel mused.

“Aziraphale’s not meek,” the young voice said. “He’s really cool.”

Crowley glanced back, unsure just how long Warlock had been there or how much he heard, but gave him a smile anyway. “Yes, he is pretty cool, isn't he?”

“Yeah.” Warlock scurried closer, unsure if he was allowed to be in the middle until Aziraphale let go of Crowley’s hand and reached for him instead. It was easy to safely place himself between the two adults, feeling far safer there than anywhere near Gabriel. That was an alpha scent he didn't trust at all.

Even when he smiled. “Hello, Warlock. It's nice to see you.”

“Okay.”

Crowley almost snorted and attempted to cover it by clearing his throat. “Was there anything else, Mr. Archer?”

“Yes. We're here because of Warlock's presentation. Was that before or after you met Mr. Fell here?”

Warlock frowned. “Before. Crowley was taking me to my parents,” he lied, “and Aziraphale was on the subway. And he was nice, so...”

Gabriel's brows lifted, gaze sliding to Aziraphale. “You said you met Crowley through work.”

“I did. And then, a few days later, I met Warlock on the tube.” Which was truer than what Warlock had said, but he wasn't nearly as good a liar as the pup.

And Crowley wasn't about to tell them how either of them actually met Aziraphale. “Yes. Because I wasn't going to bring someone I barely met to meet my pup. It was a happy coincidence they hit it off so well.”

“He’s a good alpha,” Warlock insisted, unsure why they were even having to defend Aziraphale. “He likes us.”

“Very much so,” Aziraphale assured him, heart swelling when Warlock reached for his hand. He usually only reached for Crowley’s when he did at all.

“Uh-huh.” Gabriel and Uriel shared a look. “So what environmental factors do you think contributed to his presenting as an omega?” he asked, gaze aimed towards Aziraphale. He only lifted a brow. He hadn’t been around for the presentation, let alone before it, so had no answer. He only looked at Crowley, missing Gabriel’s eye roll.

Crowley didn't miss it, bristling at the way Gabriel seemed to so easily dismiss him entirely. “As I said when I reported his presentation, I don't go in for that environmental tosh. It's pseudoscience at best.”

“And what do you think?” Gabriel asked, pointedly looking at Aziraphale this time.

He knew he was just asking about the reasons for Warlock’s presentation again, but Aziraphale wasn’t going to answer that question. “Well, as I’m not an expert in the theory of environmental factors on presentations, I’m afraid I can’t speak on that with any authority. My opinion is that doctors and psychologists should listen to pups and their developing instincts far more than they seem to.”

Gabriel’s smile tightened. “And Warlock specifically?”

Annoying bugger. Aziraphale looked down at Warlock, very gently squeezing his hand. “Did anyone ever listen to how you were feeling? What instincts seemed to be emerging?”

His shoulders jerked. “Just Crowley.”

“Well, there you are.”

Of course he'd listened, doing so just seemed like the most logical thing when faced with raising a pup and having no idea what he was doing. He'd tried telling Harriet the same thing the few times she'd called to complain about Warlock not taking to the sports they'd signed him up for, but Thad had been insistent. “He is as he is, and there's nothing wrong with that.”

“We didn’t say there was anything wrong with him. Did we, Uriel?”

She sighed, so obviously uninterested in being there. “No.”

“There. Now, Mr. Fell, I suppose as an alpha, you’re more drawn to them because they’re both omegas?”

Storm blue eyes turned to frost. “I’m drawn to them because I enjoy their company. I enjoy spending time with them at the park, and I enjoy watching Warlock’s very confusing video games as he very clearly enjoys them. I’m always pleased when they stop by my home for tea and coffee because I like them as people.”

Crowley looked at him with all the fondness in his stupid little heart, glad he'd remembered to put on his glasses but not sure if they really hid the heart-eyes all that well. He had to swallow back all the 'I love you's that threatened to spill out and cleared his throat. “Mr. Archer, are you implying I'd not notice or even just allow an alpha with unclear intentions into my home?”

Gabriel avoided that with a question in turn. “So, Mr. Fell, you have plans to bond with him?”

Aziraphale’s ears went flat. “That's something we have to discuss with Warlock.”

“He's a child.”

“He's a member of this family. Therefore, he deserves to be included in that particular discussion.” Aziraphale struggled to keep the absolute fury out of his scent, his tone even. “Now I have had more than enough questions directed at me when you should be speaking to Crowley. Being an omega does not make him deaf.”

“If only that were the case,” Crowley muttered, more to himself than anything, though he did hear a small snort from Warlock between them. “Bonding isn't the sort of thing Aziraphale could decide alone regardless. Unless you've forgotten that sort of thing, Mr. Archer.”

He barely glanced at Crowley before fixing his attention on Aziraphale again. “It obviously doesn't make him deaf, but I'm trying to speak to the person in charge.”

“Well being that this is not my home and the pup in question is not my ward, you have nothing to discuss with me.”

“Mr. Fell-” But it was too late. The enormous white wolf took Aziraphale’s place and padded in front of Crowley. He sprawled across his feet, tail curled over Warlock's. It was a very clear message, one of protection and of disrespect. Gabriel pressed his lips together and quietly glared at Aziraphale, who looked as smug as a wolf could. “Mr. Fell, that's childish.”

Aziraphale quietly rested his chin on massive paws.

“He has a point, though. This is my flat and I'm the one seeking full legal custody of Warlock, not Aziraphale. Just because he is here and an alpha does not automatically make him the one in charge, that assumption is archaic and one that is more detrimental for a developing pup than anything you might think I've done.”

It was also one Gabriel could actually get into some trouble for. He folded his hands behind his back, standing a little straighter. “He presented himself as being in charge.”

Aziraphale growled softly and, rather than be nervous about the sound, Warlock became a wolf and pressed into his side. Tail thumping, Aziraphale scruffed him and tucked him under his chin and against his chest. His pup.

Gabriel frowned at the display. It was, admittedly, a good one. It was healthy for a young omega to feel so safe around a clearly irritated alpha. It was a very good sign of his development. “I assume you haven't shared this relationship with anyone else involved in this case.”

“I see no reason to share the details of my private life when it isn't necessary. And what Warlock tells his therapist is between them, I don't butt in on that - as has been established.”

Aziraphale lifted his head, resting his muzzle against Crowley’s leg in approval. He had such a good mate.

“Fine. It'll go in our report. Your private life, as far as it affects Warlock, belongs to the court. This relationship clearly has had an impact on the pup.”

“A clearly positive impact,” Crowley motioned to his feet where Warlock was happily curled up under Aziraphale’s wolfy chin. A little black spot in all the white fur. “Warlock adores him and, if I recall correctly, I was already given a dressing down for not having a 'proper alpha' in his life and now he does.”

Gabriel arched a brow. “For how long?”

That wasn't the sort of question Crowley could answer with any kind of certainty. Aziraphale was capable of walking away from all of this, from them, at any time. He had no real obligation, but… “Aziraphale has already requested that should our romantic relationship not pan out, to be allowed to continue being in Warlock's life. And thus far he hasn't given me any reason to deny him.”

Warlock's tail began to wag, beating against Aziraphale’s chest, and he couldn't help but nuzzle the little thing.

Gabriel nodded once and then gestured to Uriel. “Fine. We'll do our usual walk through and then be off. We have important things to do today.”

It wasn't as if Crowley had any choice in the matter. “Alright, you know where everything is.”

“Yes. We'll also need to look at Warlock's nest,” he announced, the little pup letting out a distressed whine.

Crowley immediately wanted to say no. Absolutely not. They weren't invited, it was a breach of privacy. He clenched his fists at his sides. “Is that absolutely necessary?”

“We do need to ensure his room is adequate.”

“Then Ms.Calix will suffice. I don't think it's appropriate for an unfamiliar alpha to be in a young omega's room where his nest is.”

Warlock made another soft sound and Aziraphale nudged him with a soft grumble. He had a reason for being a wolf at the moment, but the pup needed to let his voice be heard. He transformed, grabbing Crowley’s sleeve. “She smells bad too,” he whispered. “They'll mess up my nest.”

Crowley cupped the back of his head and raised his eyebrows at the two adults upsetting his pup. “I know it doesn't feel very good, but no one will touch your nest. I promise.”

“Can I go in too? So-” He swallowed and lifted his chin, glaring at the unwelcome alpha and beta. “So I know you don't mess my nest up.”

Gabriel spread his hands. “You don't trust us?”

“No.”

“Of course you can. No one reasonable would have any objections to that.”

Warlock stayed pressed against Crowley for a few seconds before nodding and bolting for his room. It was clean for a young pup's room, but his bed wasn't made and he wanted to hide his nest from view as much as possible. He didn't want a single unfamiliar scent near his sheets and especially not near his pillows, which were so much harder to get scents out of. He didn't want Crowley to have to wash everything. Not yet. It was too early.

Gabriel and Uriel watched him with varying degrees of annoyance, but Gabriel pasted his smile back on in record time. “I hope you aren't negatively influencing him against us, Mr. Crowley.”

Crowley smiled wide. “I have no idea what you're talking about. Everyone knows newly presented pups are incredibly particular about their nests for the first month or so.”

“Mmhm... Uriel, shall we?”

She rolled her eyes, but nodded. “Yes.”

As they turned to enter Crowley’s plant room, no doubt writing down all the supposed dangers of having so many in one room of a flat, Aziraphale changed back and reached for Crowley’s hand. “I'm terribly sorry, pet. I never intended to behave so... poorly.”

“You weren't the one behaving badly, angel,” Crowley murmured back, squeezing his hand. “You were wonderful. It's not your fault Archer was so quick to dismiss me.”

“Perhaps not, but it absolutely infuriated me. The utter lack of respect from them both when you're clever and wonderful. What they expect from you is utter madness, and I'm sorely tempted to write a formal complaint.”

Crowley kissed his cheek with a smile. “My protective alpha.”

Aziraphale huffed. “I'd tear them to bits if I thought it would help you.”

“That definitely won't help, love.”

“I'm aware, but it's monumentally frustrating.” Aziraphale slipped his arms around Crowley’s waist and drew him close. “I think I will file that complaint, if you'll allow it. Between claiming that I'm in charge and insisting on entering a newly presented omega's bedroom, he should be disciplined in some way.”

“He should be, so if you think it would help…” He didn't know what else he could do but let himself be drawn in by Aziraphale’s soothing scent. It was so much nicer than the one Archer left behind that always seemed to linger for days after one of these ridiculous visits.

“It's worth an attempt.” He did know some people, after all. Aziraphale nestled their brows together. “For now, however, I'll try to smother his terrible scent once they've gone.”

“Have I told you I love today? Because I do.”

“And I you, my dear. I think I'll join Warlock in his room and ensure that she doesn't touch his nest.”

“Alright. I think he'd like that. He trusts you not to mess it up.”

“I hope so. You'll be alright dealing with that lummox?”

“Don't you worry about me.” Crowley winked over his glasses. “I know how to deal with boneheaded alphas.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “My clever omega,” he murmured, kissing him softly before transforming again. His nails clicked lightly over the floors as he trotted down the hall, tail swishing cheerfully until he got to Warlock's shut door. A short, simple bark had it opening, and he was pleased as punch when he was ushered inside. His pup did trust him, did approve of his scent near his nest, and Aziraphale was going to do whatever was necessary to keep that trust.

Including growling at both Gabriel and Uriel when the door opened. There was a quiet staring match before Gabriel stepped back with a sigh. “Go ahead, Uriel. I'll be just down the hall.”

“Fine.”

Gabriel made his way into the kitchen, frowning as he watched Crowley pull flour out of his pantry. “What exactly are you doing?”

Crowley looked at the plastic container full of flour in his hand and then at the oil, sugar, and baking powder already on the counter. “Well, considering it's nine-thirty in the morning and you lot woke us up…” He swept his free hand towards the ingredients. “I'm going to be making breakfast once you're gone.”

“What sort of breakfast?”

“Waffles with fresh fruit and bacon.”

“I see. I assume your alpha approved.”

Crowley leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. “Dunno. Warlock asked for waffles when I woke him up, haven't told Aziraphale yet.”

“I'm sure he'll be fine with it. He doesn't seem the type to, ah, skip a meal.”

An eyebrow went up. “Skipping meals isn't healthy for anyone, so I should hope not.”

Gabriel frowned. He was deliberately obtuse. “Overeating isn't healthy either.”

Ah. Crowley’s lips thinned and tail tip twitched in agitation. “I've never seen Aziraphale do such a thing.”

Gabriel tsked. “I'm sure. I hope you know that being bitten by a weak alpha isn't likely to help your case. It's a little... desperate.”

“Mm… Because you can definitely tell what kind of alpha he is from a handful of minutes. I had no idea you were so clairvoyant, your talents are clearly wasted in this job, Archer.”

“I know what I see and what I heard. He's soft. Clearly not the sort of disciplinarian needed in a two-omega home. Not to mention the obvious age difference. You're clearly using him, but it isn't going to work.”

Crowley nodded along, not at all terribly surprised by the assumptions even though they infuriated him. He knew what their relationship looked like from the outside. “And I suppose you know exactly how to discipline a child and how to handle an omega or two.” He noted the lack of any ring or bite and too easily recalled the suggestions Gabriel had made when he'd first been assigned this case. “Got plenty of those, I'm sure.”

“My personal life is hardly the one being scrutinised by the courts. And I'll gladly recommend pushing up your next hearing before this relationship goes much further.”

“Recommend whatever you want, I've followed all court orders to the letter. What I don't understand is why you lot are so intent on removing Warlock from a home where he's clearly loved and wanted. The fridge is chock-full of food, he has a warm safe place to nest, I've ensured his parents' money can't be touched by a single bloody person until it transfers to Warlock when he turns of age. He's doing better in school and his therapist says he's making progress on working through his grief, removing him would undo all of that. You don't have to like me, Archer, the feeling is very mutual, but if you cared a lick about that child you'd not let your own personal opinions cloud your judgement.”

“We'll-”

He stopped, both of them hearing the soft clicks of wolf nails. Gabriel frowned at Uriel, who actually looked a bit uncomfortable. It was difficult to look through a room properly with an alpha wolf growling and pacing the perimeter of the bed as if guarding some treasure. He was purring now, but only because he had the little black pup between his teeth. A little black pup with a wagging tail because his nest hadn't been touched by a single finger. The bed skirt had white fur on it, but he was okay with that.

“I've finished. The room is... sufficient.”

“I see. Well, then, I suppose we'll be able to take our leave now.”

It had taken longer than Crowley liked, but neither alpha nor pup were upset so he assumed everything must have gone alright. “Good, that means we can actually get to breakfast and get on with our day.”

Gabriel’s frown deepened when Aziraphale transformed, the pup cradled in his arms. Neither Uriel nor Gabriel had ever actually seen Warlock comfortable enough to be a pup and now they'd seen him be so independently twice. “As my omega is clearly busy, I'll walk you to the door.”

“That would be amazing, angel, thank you.” And it made something warm and soft lodge itself in his chest to see Warlock so happy and comfortable, little tail happily wagging. “Wanna leave Warlock with me? He can help pour the batter in the waffle maker if he changes back.”

It would also keep him from hearing any parting shots these two may attempt, so Aziraphale scritched Warlock beneath the chin and gently set him on one of the barstools. He transformed with a grin he quickly tried to school into something neutral. “I can help.”

“Figured you might.” And he waited until both Gabriel Archer and Uriel Calix had turned away before sticking his tongue out at them to Warlock’s snickers. Perhaps both he and Aziraphale could be childish.

Aziraphale smiled at him, shaking his head at him before turning to follow and encourage the duo to leave even faster. Though, as coats were gathered and he stood back with his hands clasped, he wasn’t surprised by the onceover Mr. Archer gave him. “You know, from one alpha to another, I would suggest you be very careful in this situation. An omega like that… He only needs you for the boy.”

Aziraphale’s brows arched. “I can promise you he needs me for more than that, and I’m happy to give. Besides, he’s done wonders with Warlock long before he knew me. He provides for him and listens to him and loves him, which is exactly what a proper guardian should do.”

While Uriel just looked annoyed, Gabriel tsked. “If you don’t want to take advice, so be it. You’re going to be the one left behind, more of your limited time wasted.”

“I don’t consider a single second with either of them wasted. As for taking your advice, I find it’s rather useless to me, being that it comes from such a negative place. It makes me wonder if you, perhaps, wanted more of his time and he refused.”

His spine snapped straight. “Of course not.”

“Then, from one alpha to another, keep your advice limited to things you actually understand.” He smiled as he opened the door for them. “Have a lovely day.”

And nothing pleased him more than being able to shut the door behind them. Nothing, perhaps, but walking into the kitchen and seeing his omegas putting breakfast together. Warlock was kneeling on a stool, face screwed up in concentration as he carefully poured batter into a waffle maker. At the sink, Crowley was easy to walk up to and wrap arms around from behind. “They’re gone.”

“Good.” Crowley’s tail beat against Aziraphale’s legs in pleased wags. The kitchen might have smelled too much like aluminium and paper, but the cooking and his alpha would fix that in short order. “Sorry they interrupted our nice morning.”

“So am I, but there’ll be other nice mornings. And it was rather fun being able to play guard dog.”

Crowley chuckled and dried his hands on a nearby towel so he could lay them over Aziraphale’s. “Oh? Guarded your pup's nest, did you?”

His pup. Aziraphale’s tail swished in a flurry, hold on Crowley tightening a bit. “I think so.”

“He followed her around the whole time. Like he stayed against my bed and just paced around every time she moved, and he growled,” Warlock explained, clearly relishing the experience. “We opened the window so her scent would go away too.”

“I’ll shut it after breakfast,” Aziraphale promised.

“Alright, just don't either of you forget. The heating bill would kill me.”

“I know, pet. I wouldn’t do that to you.” And if he did forget, he’d just have to give Crowley enough to cover it. He nuzzled him fondly. “I love you,” he murmured, “and don’t think for even a moment that you’re using me.”

Crowley closed his eyes with a sigh and leaned back against him. “Brought that up, did he?”

“He did. Alpha to alpha advice, he called it. The utter buffoon.”

“Wanker,” Crowley muttered. “Sounds like he's just jealous I turned him down when he attempted to make the moves on me the first time we had a visit.”

“I knew it,” Aziraphale growled, pressing closer to Crowley. As if Gabriel might come back and try to take what was his. “I accused him of just that and he denied it.”

“'Course he did. Probably still embarrassed when I didn't give him the time of day.”

“You have very good taste, pet.”

Crowley turned his head, nuzzling their noses together with a grin. “I know I do. I chose you after all.”

“So you did.” Aziraphale kissed him until Warlock’s gagging sounds made him laugh. “Luckily for him, I need to make a call.”

“Mm. Unlucky me.” He gave Aziraphale a peck on the lips before he could pull away entirely. “Everything should be close to ready when you get back.”

“Alright. I’ll be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.” He kissed Crowley again just because, then ruffled Warlock’s hair because the pup allowed it. Aziraphale adored knowing he was growing more comfortable with him. So much so that he’d allowed him to keep his nest safe.

Even if this phone call was overstepping, he just had to make it. He couldn’t allow people who would be so callous about a new nest or an alpha who’d hold a grudge after more than a year hold the fate of his omegas in their hands. He just couldn’t do it, not when he had connections. Being a staple of a community like Soho with his family history had its benefits and it was time to take advantage of them.

He stepped into Crowley’s room and plucked his brand new phone out of its bag. He hadn’t yet shared his ownership of it and had forgotten to the night before, so it took a few minutes of fumbling to find his painstakingly added contact list and reach a particular name.

As was her habit, it was answered by the third ring and he smiled. “Mary, hello. It’s me, Aziraphale Fell.”

“Mr. Fell! What are you calling for? Oh. Someone finally suing you for a book character?”

“No, no.” But he had a feeling he’d have to be careful when he inevitably killed Gabriel’s likeness off. “I was wondering if you had someone in family services I could trust. I’ve just had a rather terrible experience with two social workers, and I need to file a complaint with them. But I’m afraid the adoption has taken more than a year to process, so I’m not entirely sure of the reputation of the parties involved.”

“Well… There’s Theresa.”

“Your wife?” Aziraphale asked, though he knew. “Mary, my dear, I’d hate to feel as if I’m using you or her.” Which was true, but he’d do what he needed to. “I’m also hoping to become a character witness for the prospective parent. He hasn’t asked me to, but he doesn’t have many people in his life due to losses in the family.”

“Oh, the poor thing.” Mary clucked her tongue. “Now you wait just a tick, Mr. Fell. I’ll patch Theresa in and we can have ourselves a conference call. The judges here love me, so we can put something together between the three of us.”

“Wonderful.” And though he did actually feel terrible about it, Aziraphale picked up and unlocked Crowley’s phone. He’d seen him swipe the pattern enough that he knew how, and it was easy to find his calendar. “I have his schedule as well, if an appointment needs to be made.” He could only hope Crowley wasn’t furious with him.

That particular worry didn’t abate by the time the call ended, Aziraphale at least glad that his complaint was filed and someone with fresh eyes was looking over Crowley and Warlock’s supposedly “massive” file. Theresa had seemed particularly displeased by the size of it, muttering about obvious biases in a way that gave Aziraphale hope that this nightmare for his omegas would be over soon. They could be a family as they deserved.

“I’m so sorry. That took a bit longer than anticipated.”

“'S alright,” Crowley said from his place at the island bar beside Warlock. He had a plate but hadn't started eating yet, wanting to wait for Aziraphale even though Warlock had dug in already. “Hope you don't mind I let the pup start without you. Could hear his stomach complaining all the way across the kitchen.”

“No, that’s fine. He’s still growing. You could’ve started as well, pet.” But Aziraphale sat beside him at the plate that had been made for him and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I submitted my complaint. To, ah, to a friend of mine.”

“Oh? That important was it?”

“You and Warlock are extremely important, yes.”

“I know.” Somehow he'd stumbled upon the perfect alpha, the perfect partner. “You don't seem upset, so I assume the call went well?”

“It… did. We’ll need to discuss it.” Aziraphale smiled weakly. “I overstepped and rather deliberately this time.”

Crowley raised his eyebrows but bobbed his head. “A-alright. Yeah, we'll talk about it.” Which meant not in front of the pup, he didn't need to have all the adult worries and details.

It didn’t stop him from being curious. “What kinda complaint?”

“Well, I let Mrs. Garrulous know that Mr. Archer had attempted to undermine Crowley’s authority in his own home and I explained how uncomfortable they’d made you in deciding to go into your bedroom. They could’ve inspected it very easily without ever crossing the threshold. Which, I was told, is proper procedure for recently presented pups.”

Crowley made an interested noise around a bite of waffle, no one had told him that. “Is that so?”

“It is, indeed. You also aren’t supposed to receive surprise inspections on Sunday mornings. This was supposed to happen tomorrow afternoon.” And it wasn’t supposed to have been a surprise. It had been more than a year with no serious offences. Things were supposed to be different, and they were going to be.

“You're joking.”

“I'm not.” Aziraphale brushed his tail against Crowley’s. “We have things to discuss, pet. Things you were supposed to have been told but clearly weren't.”

Crowley groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. “Is this why I always feel like I take one step forward but end up two back?”

“Possibly. Theresa- Mrs. Garrulous is going to put something together for you. You can pick it up tomorrow.” Or Aziraphale could, but he wasn't sure if he'd be allowed.

“So long as it helps get us out of this stalemate I'm in.”

Aziraphale cupped his cheek and leaned in to rub their noses together. “That’s all I wanted to help you do.”

“So… It’s gonna be easier for Crowley to adopt me now?”

“It should be, my dear. It should be much easier for you both.”

Crowley certainly hoped so. Constantly feeling like he was walking on eggshells and having his home inspected and judged was beginning to wear. And when breakfast was done and eaten Crowley gathered up all the dishes for rinsing before being put in the dishwasher. The consistent motion helped work out latent frustration both at having their morning interrupted and at having to deal with the privacy of his life being scrutinised. Warlock already having slunk into the living room to play games, still not entirely happy about the early wake up.

“I still can't bloody believe that arsehole really is messin' about with us.”

“Yes… Theresa tells me Mr. Archer has a habit of thinking he’s more important than he actually is, so this would hardly be his first reprimand.”

“That doesn't surprise me in the least,” Crowley muttered, possibly scrubbing a little too hard at the bacon pan. “Any possibility of them just giving him the boot?”

“I’m not sure. I did- I did try to keep from learning or saying too much, but each Mrs. Garrulous on her own is terribly talkative. Put both of them on one telephone call, and it’s impossible to put a word in edgewise or to ask for less detail.” Aziraphale folded his hands behind his back, standing near but not too close. “I am sorry, Crowley. We did discuss that you’ve been trying to do this on your own and how my presence shouldn’t affect anything, but I- The way he talked to and about you and the way Ms. Calix lingered in Warlock’s room as if trying to get her perfume everywhere… I couldn’t stand it. I love you both dearly.”

Crowley set the pan in the sink so he could turn to lean against the counter and look at him. “I know you do and I love you too. You don't have to-to apologise for anything, you didn't do anything. You said you wanted to file a complaint and I didn't tell you you couldn't.”

“Yes, but I did contact someone I didn’t necessarily have to. I called someone I knew would be able to help you.”

“Kinda pieced that together considering how familiar you've talked about this Ms… Garrulous. Didn't expect you to actually know someone, but I suppose a guy like you would have connections.”

“I’ve known them both since they were teenagers, actually. They came into the shop searching for books to do reports for school. The pair of them talked my ears right off.” Said ears twitched, his tail curled low and his smile still apologetic. “I called Theresa’s wife initially. Mary’s always been fonder of me, I think, and she’s involved in the courts but not family services. She handles business law, and is quite good at it. So much so that she’s very friendly with nearly every judge in London and who she isn’t friendly with, Theresa is. And Theresa’s going to go through your file personally. I didn’t ask her to, but she took one look at it and began ranting about the size of it. I don’t know exactly what this will mean for you both - I really didn’t ask for specifics - but I- I hope things do get easier. And that you deal with a different agent.”

Crowley smiled softly at him. He didn't know exactly how he felt about it all right now, it seemed like a lot going on all at once, but if it helped… “Angel, come here.” Crowley reached out a hand. “I can smell you fretting.”

Aziraphale unclasped his hands as he stepped forward, taking Crowley’s offered one. “I just don’t want you to think… or to feel as if I’ve…” He shook his head, feeling tongue-tied and nervous. He was most certainly fretting and couldn’t even deny it.

He decided to take pity on him, Aziraphale really was too sweet for his own good. “You haven't done anything that upsets me, angel.” Crowley used their clasped hands to pull him in closer and his free one to wrap around Aziraphale to keep him there. “It's alright.”

Aziraphale’s tail twitched, one ear pushing forward and the other pinned back. But he breathed in that sweet caramel apple scent and found no traces of upset or anger. He nuzzled into his throat on a sigh of relief. “Alright. I- I didn’t make the call because I don’t have respect for you. Quite the opposite, truly. You deserve anything I can give, and so does he.”

“I know and… I don’t know, maybe it doesn't make any sense, but making a call to someone you know to ask them to look into something and see if they can help is… it's different than just making things happen simply based on your existance. Does that make sense at all?”

“I think so. Because, no, this had nothing to do with me being an alpha.” Aziraphale rubbed their noses together. “And everything to do with me being in love with you.”

“Yes. Yes, exactly.” Crowley laughed a little. “That's a much better way of saying it than how my brain translated it for me.”

“Those pesky brains do get us into a lot of trouble.” Aziraphale’s ears flopped forward again as he relaxed. “Additionally, Theresa told me I could give you her telephone number once I managed to tell her you were in charge of this, and I was only calling to complain.”

Crowley’s brow furrowed and he tilted his head. “Wouldn't it already be in my phone? In the call log?”

“Well, no. I called Mary, her wife. And, ah… I didn’t use your telephone.”

“Then how did you call? I don't have a landline.”

“Yes, I did notice that. It’s quite peculiar. But I used my telephone.”

“What do you mean your-” Crowley stopped and gasped. “You got a mobile! You sneaky bastard!”

His tail wagged as he drew back, pulling the device out of his pocket. “I meant to tell you yesterday, but I quite forgot. I wanted to surprise Warlock by sending him a text message, but I haven’t quite figured out how to do that.”

It was clearly an older model, very likely something he got refurbished. And it still suited him. “You are adorable. Do you want me to help?”

His tail swished faster. “Yes. The clerk said texting was more secure than using Twitter-dot-com.”

Crowley smirked, tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip. “It is. Needed something more secure, did you?”

“Well, being that I seem to be messaging two persons very often, I didn’t think a bit of security would hurt.”

“Mmm, is that all?”

“You’ll have to teach me to take photographs and how to send text messages for the answer to that, wicked thing.”

“Oh, I will,” Crowley murmured, eyebrows wiggling as he pulled Aziraphale back in so he could kiss him without a pup making noises at them.

Aziraphale still broke it giggling, but his lips travelled down Crowley’s throat to nuzzle his scent gland. Their morning may have been interrupted, but the rest of their day was ripe with promise. And if Theresa really did look at his file, the rest of their lives held the same.

Chapter Text

Things were good. Things were good. Somehow, miraculously, everything was going better than Crowley was usually accustomed to. His relationship with Aziraphale was good, amazing even, he was feeling confident about the coming court case now that he'd got his lawyer in contact with one Ms. Garrulous, and the icing on top was finally making a proper sale. Crowley practically beamed as he parallel parked across the street from A.Z. Fell & Co. He'd made a sale and he was going to bloody well celebrate it.

He'd barely pulled to a stop before he was clambering out of the antique Bentley and striding towards the bookshop. He hadn't told Aziraphale he was coming but he was in too good a mood to allow himself to start getting anxious about it. The bell above the door chimed, announcing him, and Crowley breathed in Aziraphale's familiar bourbon and chocolate scent when no Aziraphale was immediately in sight.

“Angel! It's me!”

It was the one voice - well, one of two voices - that could pull Aziraphale away from his writing. And it hardly surprised him that he’d left the door unlocked when he’d gotten settled at his laptop. “In the parlour area, darling,” he called back, ears perked as well as they could and tail beating the back of his chair.

Crowley knew his way between the shelves by now, having been here often enough, and he wasn't surprised to find him at his little desk with laptop out and funny glasses perched on the end of his nose. Crowley leaned a hip against a nearby shelf, smile wide. “I'm not interrupting an important murder, am I?”

He would never call Gabriel Archer important, even in the context of a murder. “Not at all. Even if you were, you smell too cheerful for such a topic.”

“Depends on who you're killing.” He tilted his glasses down just enough to wink over the top. “Buuuuut, if you're not busy, I thought I might borrow you for a little while.”

“I’m quite open to being borrowed.” Aziraphale saved his work and shut his laptop, curiously peered at Crowley over the tops of his spectacles. “You’re not working today?”

“I was, but everything I had to do today is all wrapped up. And I think you'll be happy to know a lovely little couple's going to be putting up quite a lot of flowers in the newly sold storefront across from you.”

He pushed himself up on a gasp, crossing to Crowley with delight in his gaze. “You sold the café.” Arms banding about his waist, he lifted Crowley right off his feet. “That’s wonderful, pet. I’m so proud of you.”

Crowley laughed, arms going around Aziraphale’s neck as he was lifted. “Not a café anymore!”

“No. A florist?”

“That's what they said they planned to do with it.”

“How exciting. A convenient spot for me to get my omega flowers.” Aziraphale kissed him soundly. “Really, Crowley, I’m so pleased. You’ve worked very hard on that sale.”

“I know!” His tail wasn't out, but he knew it would've been wagging if it was. “Technically the commission still needs to clear the office and the bank but paperwork is signed, closing is done, and I thought you might like to join me in celebrating.”

“I would absolutely love to. My clever omega,” he purred, his own tail wagging hard enough for the both of them.

“Good. Get ready to lock up, I'm taking you out.”

“Shall I ask where to or is it a surprise?”

“It's a surprise unless you really gotta know.”

Aziraphale shook his head, setting him on his feet. “I trust you to ensure we have a lovely time. It's your celebration, pet.”

“Perfect. You’ll probably figure it out when you see what I have in the backseat, but still.”

Curiosity had his ears twitching. “Do I need to bring something?”

“Nope!” Crowley slipped his hand into Aziraphale’s. “All you need to bring is your handsome self.”

“That, I'm capable of. Will we be back in time to pick Warlock up from school or will he be with Tracy this afternoon?”

“I plan on being back in time to get him, but I do have Tracy on call just in case.”

“Alright. Then I suppose we mustn't dawdle.” Aziraphale brushed their noses together, then their lips. “Come along then. My keys are in my coat pocket.”

“On the coat rack by the door?” Crowley shook his head and pulled him through the shop, shaking his head. “Anyone could open that door, snag your coat, and make off with your keys in seconds.”

“Yes, well, no one ever has. Don't start tempting fate, you devil.”

Crowley laughed and grabbed the coat when they got to it, holding it open for Aziraphale to slip his arms into. He let his hands linger over broad shoulders and nuzzled the back of Aziraphale's head. “When the closing was being signed all I could think of was coming here to tell you.”

Aziraphale tried to keep his tail from slamming against Crowley’s legs, purrs rumbling. “I'm always glad to know I'm in your thoughts, pet.”

“You usually are, you know.”

Aziraphale turned and pulled him into another embrace. “Careful with saying such sweet things, my dear, lest our celebration happen in my nest instead.”

Crowley laughed, the soft rumbling of Aziraphale's purr bringing his own out. “As much as we would both enjoy that, I do want to take you out.”

“Alright, alright.” Aziraphale gave him a quick, sweet kiss - it was unavoidable with that smile so close - and retrieved his keys from his pocket. “Lead on.”

“As my alpha wishes.” Crowley took his arm, waiting for Aziraphale to lock the shop before leading him across the street. The Bentley's passenger door held open for Aziraphale to take his seat. “It's a little bit of a drive, but I don't think you'll mind spending the time with me.”

“I never do, my dear.” Aziraphale slid into the passenger seat, unable to keep from peeking into the back in the short time it took Crowley to cross to the driver’s side. “A picnic basket,” he cooed, laying a hand on Crowley’s leg. “You’re precious.”

“Am not,” Crowley muttered, cheeks pinking. Aziraphale's hand was warm and distracting as he brought the car to life and manoeuvred out into traffic. “Just thought it'd be somethin' nice to do before it gets too cold.”

Aziraphale didn’t bother pointing out that Crowley already got cold, smile soft in its fondness. “I adore picnics, so it’s a wonderful thing to do.”

“Figured it'd be something you liked.”

“You figured correctly.” Aziraphale squeezed his leg. “Where are we going?”

Crowley’s lips tilted up, heart skipping at the way Aziraphale hadn’t yet removed his hand. “It's, ah, just a little place I know in Surrey Hills. Scenic, for still being close to London. It's pretty.”

“That sounds lovely. Secluded?”

“Mmhmm.” He stole a glance at Aziraphale and had to resist squirming at how all of his attention was on him. “Bit off the beaten path.”

“So I can kiss you in peace?”

“Could do a bit more than that in peace.”

Aziraphale squeezed his leg again, hand sliding higher up his thigh. “I’ll do my best to keep you warm, then.”

“Oh, I'm sure you will. Brought a couple of blankets to help you out.” He hadn't exactly expected anything particularly intimate to happen, but he wasn't going to turn down a potential romp in the woods if Aziraphale was offering.

“Very practical,” Aziraphale purred, tail thumping softly against the seat. “But you’ll have to allow me to take you and Warlock somewhere special tonight. You’re the one who deserves to be treated, pet.”

“Can take us wherever you like, though I wouldn't say this isn't a treat for me.”

“Yes, but you did all the planning and put together a basket for us. I’m going to take you both somewhere so you won’t have to lift a finger. Except to drive, which I know isn’t a hardship for you.”

“It certainly isn't.” And his smile turned mischievous, engine revving as he merged onto the M25.

“You do love this old thing. I’d almost be jealous if it were living.” And it smelled more like Aziraphale each and every time he was in it, something he took quiet delight in.

Crowley rolled his eyes, thumb rubbing over the leather of the steering wheel. “Well, luckily for her, she's most definitely not alive so you have nothing to be jealous over.”

“I think having to miss out on your love makes her very unlucky. It’s a very special thing.”

“She gets plenty of attention from me and I'd say that's just as good.” Though he didn't say he'd actually been neglecting maintenance just a little bit. There just wasn't as much time between parenting Warlock, working on making sales, and now having a relationship. Maybe he'd take a day off here soon just to make sure everything continued running smoothly.

“From what I’ve seen of you, darling, you give plenty of attention to all of the things you care about.”

“Well, yeah. That's what you do, innit? You don't just ignore the things you like. Life's too short for that nonsense.”

“It is, indeed.” Aziraphale squeezed his leg. “One mustn’t ignore the people one likes either.”

“Of course not.” Now that they were cruising at a steady speed, Crowley felt comfortable enough to leave the gearshift and cover Aziraphale’s hand. “Especially not the people you love.”

Aziraphale turned his hand so their palms could meet, holding on with a bright smile. “Especially not them.”

His hand was warm and soft in Crowley’s, it made his heart fill and purrs rumble to life. Such a silly thing to be so pleased over, but if the twinkle in Aziraphale's eyes was any indication, he liked it. “So, were you writing anything you can tell me about?”

“Mm... I was recently inspired for an extra murder, so I'm going back to include it.”

“Recently inspired,” Crowley murmured with no small amount of glee. “Can I reasonably assume this new murder was a self righteous prick with… violet eyes?”

“Mm. I do believe that's reasonable.”

“Not going to give your handsome omega any details?”

“My handsome omega?” Aziraphale chuckled, bringing Crowley’s hand to his lips. “I'll read it to you when I'm finished. I think you'll enjoy it more that way.”

Crowley’s lips twitched up, mirth filling his scent. “I might. A special reading from Aziraphale Fell in person would be quite the treat.”

“I should say so. I'll just have to also provide caffeine so you don't fall asleep on me.”

“I didn't think you minded me falling asleep on you.”

“I don't.” He wished it could happen more often, but understood Crowley wasn't ready for that. “But I'd like some critique at the end.”

“Finally!” Crowley announced. “He asks for my professional literary opinion.”

Aziraphale laughed. “I'd prefer your sassy desire for revenge.”

“Oh, I see how it is. My plebeian opinion isn't good enough for the big, fancy, best-selling author.”

Aziraphale nearly purred, adoring him. “So sorry you had to find out this way.”

If he weren't driving, Crowley would have pretended to be hurt just to be dramatic. He squeezed Aziraphale’s hand instead. “I don't know how I'm going to live.”

“Happily, I think, with your pup and your alpha.”

“Very, very happily.” Crowley had to release his hand to down shift and take their exit, but still smiled. “You are very good, you know, and the audio book is a big help.” Even if he fell asleep fast with Aziraphale’s soothing voice right in his ears.

Aziraphale beamed at him, pink dusting his cheeks. “I'm glad you think so, my dear.”

“I do. Only wish I wasn't so slow at it so I could enjoy more of what you've written.”

“Whatever pace you go at, darling, I'm flattered that you're bothering at all. That you're enjoying it is only a bonus.” Aziraphale gazed out the window as they left the city behind, ears perking and the desire to shift into his wolfen form rearing its head. He liked the country, and was dearly looking forward to bringing Warlock to it one day soon. It was a very different place to enjoy wolfhood than the park. “It's a lovely day.”

“Mmhmm. Rainy season's going to be starting soon, though. So we better enjoy this while it lasts.” And the further they got from the centre of London, the clearer and crisper the air felt. Crowley didn't often leave the city, there wasn't much of a reason to, but it was nice with an alpha at his side whose tail couldn't seem to stop wagging.

“Yes, and we're going to with a picnic.” Aziraphale was tempted to roll the window down, but it would get too cold too fast this time of year and he didn't want to risk getting his omega sick. “I do love the country.”

“Yeah? With what you've said about living wild I suppose that shouldn't be much of a surprise. I do miss it a little bit.”

“Do you ever think you might be willing to try again? I know Warlock would love a chance to frolic with you.” And his own desire went without saying. The urge to run and be with a mate was an ancient one.

Crowley’s cheeks pinked, he knew the question that went unasked and was infinitely thankful that Aziraphale hadn't asked directly. He didn't want to say something that disappointed him. “I- Well, maybe? I can't say I haven't thought about it. I wish I was able to give him that.”

“I know, pet. And you have been bringing your extras out more, so it's a wonderful step.” Aziraphale laid his hand over his leg again. “I know the prospect of not changing back frightens you, so I don't mean to pressure you in any way.”

Crowley shook his head. “You're not, angel. Besides, it's a very good question to ask. I'd like to be at a place where I can someday. I want to be able to share that with Warlock and-and with you, too.”

“I would like it. Even though you'd rather use a human restroom,” he teased.

“Yes! I would! Shitting in the woods is really not as fun as they try to make it out to be!”

“It isn't supposed to be fun, you silly thing. It's a natural process.”

“That doesn't mean I want to do it like that. At least as a human I can sit and relax and play CandyCrush on my phone.”

“I have no idea what that is, but every day you remind me that I'm in love with a heathen.”

Crowley’s grin spread wide and heart fluttered as he slowed to turn onto a road that was partially hidden by trees and bushes that had clearly been allowed to grow out of control. “A heathen, he calls me. You're the one who likes to rough it wild. Barbaric, that is.”

“I am a wolf and quite happy with that,” Aziraphale tsked.

“Only part of the time.”

“And the rest of the time, I'm-” He was cut off by a sudden knocking sound, banging loudly over the soft music spilling from the radio. Brows lifting, Aziraphale looked to Crowley in alarm.

Crowley frowned. His car wasn't supposed to be making that sound. “Er… hold on.” He slowed to a stop, the sound continuing until he cut the engine. “Right, just give me a tick.”

“Alright. Do you need any assistance?”

“Naaah, done stuff like this plenty of times.” He opened the door and slipped out, a small breeze rustled the trees lining the road as he went around the side to open the hood.

Aziraphale didn't like not being able to see him, so he stepped out of the car and lifted his chin, breathing in the woodland scent. The addition of motor oil added an unexpected component, but the scent over all of it was caramel apples and omega. “Anything serious?”

Crowley made an unsure sort of noise as he looked over the interior. Nothing looked out of place or damaged, which was a relief. He didn't want to have to call a tow and a taxi and scrap their date. He leaned a little further in to see around the engine block. “Dunno yet.”

“Mm. Alright.” Aziraphale watched him search for the issue, watched the long lines of his torso disappear amidst the engine bits and bobs he couldn't identify. He only knew that his mouth wanted to water when Crowley rolled his sleeves up.

Crowley barely noticed, too worried about making sure his car wasn't damaged. Buying a new part would cost him an arm and leg. And, when nothing was obviously wrong, he fell back on the lessons his father had taught him when he was a young pup learning on their old beaten up lorry. He pulled the dipstick out of its holder and used the end of his shirt to wipe the excess oil off - not his preferred method but he hadn't expected to be doing maintenance today. The dipstick was returned, pushed down as far as it would go, then removed again and Crowley groaned. “Bloody oil again.”

Heavens. He was a fantasy Aziraphale had been having for a very long time. “Oil?”

“Yeeaahh.” He straightened up with a sigh. “Old vehicles like this burn engine oil faster than newer cars, it's a pretty common issue. Just gotta top her up again and we'll be good to go.”

“Mm. And that causes rattling?”

“Sounded like it should be something more awful, eh?”

“Something that should've kept you under the hood a bit longer, yes.”

Crowley glanced back at him with a raised eyebrow, took in flushed cheeks and a tail that was very still. “Angel, were you enjoying me bent over a car?”

Aziraphale tugged at his waistcoat. “Possibly.”

“Well I do have to go back in there.”

His scent flared. “Oh?”

“Mmhmm.” And Crowley couldn't keep his knowing smirk away. “Gotta put more oil in so she doesn't blow a rod.”

“I am sorely tempted to make some sort of crass comment about blowing a rod, but I'm trying to behave. We're on the side of a road.”

“Pretty isolated road.” He turned away from him, still smirking as he opened the boot to retrieve a quart of engine oil. No one who owned and maintained an older vehicle went anywhere without a quart or two as backup. “I doubt anyone comes down here much.”

“A pity,” was the dry reply. Aziraphale could hear the double entendre.

Crowley snickered on his return, plastic oil container hanging from his fingers as he stopped just next to Aziraphale and pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. “We do have to wait for the engine to cool, wonder how we could pass the time.”

Aziraphale growled softly. Crowley’s fingers were stained, his shirt a mess. The scent of oil clung to him, but it wasn't nearly enough to overpower the sweeter aspects of his scent. It just added something. “Don't tempt me, Crowley.”

“Tempt you? Why, I would never.” He turned from him, snickering, and knowing Aziraphale’s eyes didn't leave him when he bent back under the hood to unscrew the oil cap.

Aziraphale might've been able to stand it if not for the way Crowley deliberately swished his hips. It would be impolite to refuse an invitation, wouldn't it? He approached, grasped Crowley’s hips, and ground forward. “Wicked thing. You are a constant temptation.”

Crowley gasped, delighted, and grabbed a hold of the edge of the Bentley to keep his balance. Though he needn't have worried, Aziraphale’s grip was sure. “I don't know what you mean.”

“You most certainly do.” Aziraphale leaned over him, nipping at the nape of his neck. “You knew, quite some time ago, that I'd find you lovely bent over this car of yours. And I do.”

“Is that so?” Crowley turned his head just enough to see how Aziraphale’s eyes had darkened like a sea before an impending storm. The lust and want in his scent heady over the smell of motor oil and damp soil. “So what are you going to do about it?”

Aziraphale’s hands slid further around his waist, finding his belt and undoing with deft fingers. “That depends on what my lovely omega is going to allow me to do.”

“Anything you want,” Crowley breathed, face flushed from more than just the heat of the engine. Anyone could pass by them at any time, as unlikely as it was. They were exposed here and it only heightened the excitement.

Aziraphale hummed, a hint of fang scraping against the nape of his neck. With Crowley’s belt quickly open, he undid the button and zip with ease. Sure fingers rubbed over the front of his pants, encouraging the sensitive skin beneath to fill and harden. “There are so many options, then. I want to do everything to you. How long will it take for the engine to cool?”

“Ah- Few more minutes. Probably.” Crowley let out a whine, Aziraphale’s touch more like a tease with the fabric of his pants between them. “Then - hnng - gotta check the level again after-after it's topped off.”

“Mm. That does limit our options a touch. So not nearly enough time for me to knot you, though I'm sorely tempted. Taking my mate on the roadside, holding him open how he likes for anyone to drive by and see.”

“Ffffuck.” Crowley tried to ground back or forward, anything for more friction somewhere, but the hand on his hip kept him from doing either. “Could, ah, could still do that.”

“You'd like that?” Aziraphale rubbed more firmly, smiling at the way his cock swelled under his palm. “You want me inside you right here? Where anyone could see you being good for me, opening the way only you can for me. My good omega,” he purred.

It ticked every single one of his boxes and then some. Crowley’s head nodded quickly, lip bit to hold back a moan when his cock was given a tighter squeeze as reward. “Y-yes- Yes, alpha. I do want.”

“Such a good omega,” Aziraphale murmured, hand shifting to push his pants and trousers down his hips. Without warning, two fingers plunged into his dampening entrance. “Already wet for me? You make it impossible to resist you.”

“Jesus Christ!” Crowley yelped, surprised, quickly followed by a low moan when Aziraphale twisted and crooked his fingers. His arse was now exposed to the cool air and Crowley’s cheeks burned with the possibility of someone driving by and seeing him being fingered open. “Give- Ah! Give a guy a heart attack, why don't ya?”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Well, we don't have much time.”

“Then quit stalling.”

“Stalling?” Aziraphale pressed in a third finger with ease, pushing against one particular spot that made Crowley’s back arch. “Preparing you is hardly stalling.”

A retort was on the tip of Crowley’s tongue, but it was difficult to get out around the pleasure shooting up his spine. He couldn't even rock back to take more with how Aziraphale held him. The bruises from last time had already faded and he hoped he left more to replace them. “Bassstard.”

“I love when you hiss. I love you.” Aziraphale undid his own trousers with his free hand. “Spread your legs a little more for me, pet.”

Crowley shivered and did as asked, anticipation high at the sound of the zip behind him. And with no hand holding him in place, Crowley pressed back, taking Aziraphale’s fingers up to the last knuckle. “Fuck me already, christ, I'm ready.”

“You always think you're ready.” And he usually was. He'd proven he could take Aziraphale with such little prep, his body able to open beautifully for him. But he slid in a fourth finger, smiling at the impatient clench of muscle. “My gorgeous omega.”

The heat from the still cooling engine had made him sweaty and his shirt was going to be stained from the motor oil he'd wiped on it. He didn't think he looked particularly gorgeous right now. “That's because I am always ready.”

Aziraphale chuckled, letting Crowley move on his fingers as he peppered his nape with more nippy kisses. “It's really as if you were made for me. My greedy darling.”

He groaned, head falling forward and conveniently giving Aziraphale more neck to kiss. The stretch was good, but it wasn't quite enough. “Come on. Thought, ah, thought we didn't have much time.”

“Mm. Indeed not.” Aziraphale leaned back, fingers falling free to the sound of Crowley’s whine. Smiling, he freed his achingly hard length and settled himself firmly behind Crowley. Grasping a hip, he guided himself in and teased Crowley with just the tip. “Is this what you wanted?”

He knew he was being teased, knew Aziraphale was doing this on purpose. Crowley tried to roll his hips, but was held fast again in the most frustrating and tantalising way. “Azzziraphale,” he groaned, getting what he asked for but not exactly in the way he wanted it. “Please.”

“Please what?” Aziraphale held both hips tightly, leaning down to nip his neck and to taste the salt of his sweat with a swipe of his tongue.

Crowley’s whine was high and pleading. He could feel the flared edge of his cock right there at his rim and wanted nothing more than to sink right down and take everything. “Pleassse fuck me.”

“Your begging is so sweet.” Aziraphale’s tail swished once before he stilled it, hips carefully easing forward so he could slowly, steadily sink in. He wanted Crowley to feel every bit of stretch. “I'm going to take care of you.”

He did take care of him, in ways no one else ever had. Crowley’s sigh was a mix of relief and pleasure at finally being filled in the way his instincts craved. Held by an alpha, spread open, the only thing missing was knotted and that was surely coming. “Haa- Always take care of me, alpha.”

“Your alpha, pet. I'm all yours.” Fully seated, Aziraphale nuzzled into his hair and ground his knot against Crowley’s rim.

“Yes- Yes, mine.” Crowley shivered, knuckles white from how tightly he was gripping the edge of his car. That knot a delicious tease he was more than happy to chase with a roll of his hips. A turn of his head and Aziraphale was right there, within easy kissing distance. “I love you.”

“I love you too, my darling.” Aziraphale let him move, wanted him to, but he only let him grind back a few seconds before he gave a long thrust, groan spilling into the air. He'd never done this outdoors. He'd never thought to. But with Crowley, he wanted him always. In any way and, apparently, anywhere. It didn't matter that they were on the side of a road. They could've been on the side of the populated M25 for all Aziraphale cared in that moment. He just wanted his omega, his Crowley, and he was going to make the having worthwhile for them both.

Yes, this was exactly what Crowley had been wanting. Emptied only to be filled again and again. Mated under the sky and the trees, in the open air like their ancestors and the mundane wolves they took the shapes of. It made him want to change, to be furred and four-legged and give in to instinct. Crowley forced himself to focus on the human parts; Aziraphale’s hands around his waist and the lips that left kisses between groans and grunts. It still wasn't enough to keep his ears and tail from appearing, black tail tip brushing across his mate's chest in a way meant to entice.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale purred, a hand leaving a hip to wrap around his tail and tug. “Good boy. You know how much I love seeing these.”

He gasped, back arching as a zing rocketed from tailbone up his spine. It hadn't been a very hard pull, but Aziraphale’s grip didn't lessen even when his tail thrashed. “Ngk- Mmhmm. I- I know. Accident.”

Aziraphale loved even more that there hadn't been a plan to bring them out. “A beautiful accident,” he praised, speeding up his thrusts in reward.

It was the sweetest torture feeling the promise of his knot only to lose it again. Crowley worked his hips in tandem with Aziraphale’s faster thrusts, feeling that little jolt from his tail on every retreat and murmuring a litany of “Angel. Angel. Angel.”

The hand at his waist moved, fingers wrapping around Crowley’s cock to move in time with each rapid thrust. Aziraphale's jaw was starting to ache from the desire to sink fangs into the sweet smelling throat, but he kept his mouth shut tight, pleasure shared with growling purrs.

Crowley was torn between impaling himself on Aziraphale’s cock and thrusting forward into his hand to chase pleasure that way. Luckily, he needn't have to choose. Aziraphale kept him pleasured at both ends and couldn't have stopped his rapidly approaching orgasm if he'd tried. He was just glad he had presence of mind to lock his knees first to keep from just collapsing right into the engine block.

The rhythmic clenching around him, the heady scent of his mate’s pleasure, had Aziraphale nearly breaking the tight clench he had of his teeth. He wanted so desperately to bite him that it was going to drive him mad. He’d have to bite him somewhere eventually. Even if it wasn’t the bonding mark he craved, he’d never make it through rut with him if he couldn’t bite somewhere. The lack didn’t impede his ability to find release, however, hips pressing forward until his knot stretched Crowley that much wider. It locked them together as he spilled deep, hand leaving Crowley’s tail to press against the edge of the car and keep himself up. The other left his length to wrap around his omega’s waist to keep him up as well.

It was bliss to be knotted by his alpha, filled and pleasured and held in almost all the ways his instincts called out for. The panting growls at the back of his neck were only disappointing in that they hadn't come with teeth sinking into flesh. Determined not to dwell on that, Crowley released one hand from his deathgrip on the car and held the arm around his waist instead. “A-alright there, angel?”

“Mmhm.” Aziraphale buried his face in Crowley’s hair. “And you?”

Crowley barked out a laugh, purring from sheer delight. “Ha- Yeah. Yeah, I'm just fine. Been a long time since my features came out on accident like that.”

“The benefits of the great outdoors, perhaps.”

“Must be.” His tail swished where it was pressed between his back and Aziraphale’s chest. “Not complaining, though.”

Aziraphale chuckled softly. “I should hope not. You like when I pull your tail.”

Crowley’s cheeks pinked and his tail tickled under Aziraphale’s chin. “Shut up. It feels good.”

He had to lift his head, his laughter quivering through them both. “It feels nice to pull it. It’s very soft, just like your ears.”

Said ears twitched, as if they knew they were being talked about, and there was no place to hide so Crowley ducked his head to mumble, “Fur was, too. Least I was told it was.”

Giving him a gentle squeeze, Aziraphale relaxed against him again. “Perhaps I’ll be able to discover that for myself one day. And if you did get stuck… I’d stay with you.”

Crowley’s eyes widened and he very suddenly had to blink back tears before they fell on the glasses that were just barely still hanging on. He shook his head and squeezed Aziraphale’s arm. “Wouldn't ask that of you. I'd probably be a pretty pathetic bastard.”

“And I would be one without you,” Aziraphale murmured, kissing one of his ears. “Loving you doesn’t change with our forms.”

Crowley sniffed and clung to him all the tighter. “Haven't even seen mine.”

“And I don’t need to. I’ve seen what you’re comfortable sharing, and they’re precious. The rest of you is, I’m quite sure of it.”

It made his heart fill, to be loved and accepted so fully. Crowley turned his head to rub their noses together. “Don't gotta be so perfect all the time, you know. I already love you.”

“If this perceived perfection is why, I need to keep at it.” Aziraphale smiled, fangs still sharp despite his efforts to get them back to normal. “I have no intention of not being worth your love.”

He liked those fangs, especially liked the feel of them against his lips when he gave Aziraphale a kiss despite the awkward position. “Just you being you is worth my love, angel. Don't gotta do anything special, just be yourself.”

“I am, you terrible thing.” Aziraphale kissed him again before nuzzling his ears to encourage him to settle in a position that didn’t require so much twisting. He wanted to keep pressed close to keep him warm. “Mm… You know, you’ll need to clean your car.”

Crowley groaned. “Fuck. Yeah I will. Don't need some strange alpha sniffing around.”

“If they did, they’d have to deal with me.” Aziraphale smiled, nuzzling his ear in a way that made it twitch. “And I would win.”

“Of that I have no doubt.” And the thought of seeing Aziraphale all puffed up and protective made his scent flare, much to Crowley’s embarrassment.

“Wouldn’t mind watching that, would you?” Aziraphale teased, purrs rumbling. “And I thought my very independent omega didn’t want a puffed up brute.

“I don't,” Crowley insisted. Though he wouldn't mind Aziraphale putting some other puffed up brute in their place. “Maybe I just like the idea of getting to see you stretching those muscles a bit.”

There was rarely an opportunity in this day and age for such things, but he would and had puffed up when needed. “Jealous that Warlock got to see it before you?”

Crowley blew a raspberry. “Jealous? Me? Nah.” He grabbed the quart bottle again, figuring if they were stuck here he might as well refill the oil like intended. The reservoir cap had fallen sometime during their activities, he'd have to find it when they were no longer so intimately attached.

“Mmhm.” Aziraphale didn’t believe that for a second. “I already know how much you like my growling. I suppose it shouldn’t be a surprise that you’d enjoy the rest of the display.”

“It's just…” He huffed, shaking his head as he carefully poured oil into the reservoir with a steady hand. “With you it feels different. My last… proper relationship was all about control. I couldn't even stand next to an alpha in a bloody queue without worrying a scent would stick and send someone into a pissed off meltdown. You've never growled at me or someone else to control me so… it's nice. For a change.”

“And you know I have no intention of such a thing.” Aziraphale huffed, a hand slipping beneath his shirt to stroke the smooth skin beneath as he watched him continue on with his maintenance. “This is a partnership, for Heaven’s sake. Not a- a dictatorship.”

“That! That is why I can actually let myself like you getting all growly and such.”

“Then I’m glad they didn’t ruin it for you completely. It isn’t normally something I can control.” Aziraphale squeezed fondly. “Besides, if a scent sticks to you that I don’t like, it’s simply a very nice excuse for me to be close to you.”

“As if you need an excuse,” Crowley teased, covering his hand while he waited. It would take a few minutes for the oil level to be ready to check again.

“No because I’m lucky enough to have an omega who likes me near. The excuse is more for a certain pup who rolls his eyes at us.”

“Pfft. He'll never get used to it at that rate.”

“He’s gotten better now that he sees us together more.” It was rare that an evening went by now without Warlock doing his homework on one of Aziraphale’s many tables. He hadn’t yet been back to their flat, but he understood. The inspection had been a bit jarring, and he knew Crowley wanted that to be completely sorted before they risked it.

“Still frustrating that it's taken this long for him to see what an actual affectionate relationship is like.” Crowley had to wonder if Harriet and Thad's marriage had been worse off than she'd let on.

Considering their current location and recent activities, Aziraphale was willing to say that he and Crowley were a bit more… affectionate than most. “That isn’t your fault, pet, but I understand. He’s missed out on quite a bit, but you’ve done wonders in just a year.”

“Certainly trying to.” He pressed back against Aziraphale for a moment, happy to feel his soft nuzzle and love of just being held, before checking the dipstick again. He gave it a scrutinising look before returning it back to its holder. “Well, that knocking sound should be gone now.”

“Is that really all it was? Low oil made a sound as raucous as all that?” His knot was beginning to lessen, but Aziraphale didn’t want to pull away from him just yet.

“Mmhmm. Awful sound, innit? Normally I top her off before it gets low enough to start complaining like that.”

“What was that you were saying earlier about not neglecting your things?”

Crowley blushed and huffed at him. “Shut it. I've been more distracted than usual lately.”

“I see. I certainly hope you take this as incentive to work on your car more,” he teased, tail flicking cheerfully.

“Well, if it gets you all hot and bothered…”

“Everything about you does, but there's something... very intriguing about watching you work on your Bentley. Your independence is extremely attractive to me on its own, so I suppose I'm just enjoying seeing it in action.” His smile turned a little wicked. “The very clear view of your pert backside is an additional benefit.”

“Additional benefit,” Crowley repeated at him, tail flicking in its teasing way. “Get me in a garage and you can watch this 'pert backside' work all day.”

Aziraphale’s ears perked. “I’ll find you one soon then. Are you ready for me to pull out?”

He wanted to say no and keep Aziraphale right where he was for a while longer, but they did have a picnic to get to and a pup to retrieve after. “Mm, yeah. I'm good.”

“You are that,” he teased, laughing when his chin was swatted by Crowley’s tail. “I’m very allowed to call my omega good, stop that.”

“No.”

“Should I pull it again?”

“Let me actually get us to our picnic spot and you can pull my tail all you want.”

“You’re leaving it out?” he wondered, his own tail perking even as he eased back to separate them.

Crowley hissed, not liking the feeling of being separated but glad Aziraphale stayed close. “Y-yeah. You like them, so…”

“I do. It’s nice not being the only one to have them out,” he admitted, pulling Crowley’s pants and trousers back up. After all, he’d been the one to draw them down. “I don’t mind, of course, but it is nice.”

“Well, I don't mind having them out for a bit.” Aziraphale only ever had nice things to say about his ears and tail and he did enjoy the pets they received. The second his trousers were zipped, Crowley turned sharp and quick to grab Aziraphale by the face and kiss him.

Aziraphale’s tail immediately began to swish. The lack of kissing was the only real issue with taking him from behind, but he was always happy to have it after. He was always happy that Crowley seemed to enjoy it as much as he himself did. Thrilled, really, that Crowley would reach for him time and time again. Arms wrapped around his waist, Aziraphale pulled him in closer and kissed him hungrily.

They were standing on the side of the road, trousers not even done up all the way, but all Crowley wanted was to keep kissing him. Here he had an alpha that loved him and cared about him and kissed him back like he meant the world. Crowley’s fingers combed through his curly hair, finding those adorable floppy ears to scratch behind and elicit purrs that made his own tail wag.

“Crowley,” he murmured just to say it, just to feel his lover’s name on his tongue. His purrs didn’t let up, not so long as the scratches continued and his omega’s sweet scent was bright with joy. “My sweet mate.”

“All yours, angel,” Crowley whispered back, enjoying his purrs and his clear happiness. “No one else's I'd rather be.”

“There’s no one else’s I’d rather be either.” Aziraphale kissed his cheek. “Is there anything else your vehicle needs?”

“Nah, just a small wipe down to clean my spunk off of it. Got a rag in the trunk I can use.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “You and your language.”

“There are much worse words I could use.”

“And I would prefer not to learn them.” Aziraphale gave him another peck before releasing him so he could do his own trousers up. His ears perked as a car drove by and couldn’t quite smother his laughter when Crowley sent him a smugly amused look. “If only they’d made their turn a bit sooner, they would’ve gotten quite the view.”

Crowley snorted and sunk to his knees to find the lost reservoir cap, he wasn't about to leave without it. “Excuse you, maybe I don't want anyone else seeing my alpha in the throes of pleasure.”

“Probably a good idea. I think I’d end up marking you reflexively if I knew someone was nearby.” His smile shifted, a little apologetic. “It would be very difficult to fight those instincts. That fear that someone might try to take you from me.”

Now that was a thought and one that made Crowley’s hair feel like it was standing on end. It was difficult enough sometimes to tell what he actually wanted and what instinct insisted he should want, but… “I, ah, I don't think I could blame you, in that scenario. Already kinda toeing the line, ain't we?”

“We are. In fact, I was... I was, ah, wondering your opinion on other bites? If I kept away from your throat. The permanent spaces. How would you- Would that be permissible?”

His scent flared in what could only be considered interest and his tail stuck straight up in an embarrassing display. “Nrgh- Mmhmm. Yup. That'd be- That's fine.” Crowley ducked under the car to hide his face and grab the cap.

Aziraphale’s tail swished cheerfully as he leaned over Crowley just as he had when taking him, and nipped the nape of his neck teasingly. “Then I will. It'll feel much better than grinding my teeth together.”

Crowley shivered just from the tease of those fangs. “Yes, it's been quite the hardship on you, hasn't it?”

“Mmhm.” More of one than he wanted to admit. “I wish you'd tell me the things you like or want. I highly doubt it would be something I haven't heard of before.”

He wanted Aziraphale to sink those teeth in and not let go. “Well just let me make a list, might be pretty long.”

“I'm not so old that I can't fulfil your wishes.” Aziraphale kissed the spot he'd nipped and straightened, letting Crowley put the cap on properly. “I'd be very happy to, in fact.”

“I know you would.” He screwed the cap back on and sighed. “I just can't let myself have what I actually want right now. No matter how much I might want it.”

Aziraphale smiled softly. “I know, pet. I'll wait as long as you need.”

Crowley turned, grabbed one of Aziraphale's hands and lifted it to his lips. He was lucky to have such a sweet alpha. “You already know quite a few of the things I like. Having my tail pulled and ears rubbed and being tied up.” It was only the rich, pleased scent that let Crowley feel he could continue, though the colour was high on his cheeks. “And, if you would like it too, maybe you'd allow me to be the one inside you one of these days.”

Aziraphale’s scent flared, curled tail wiggling in a confused way. His instincts said no, but everything else in him was eager. It was something he'd done before, but it had been... A lackluster experience. Not to mention a very long time ago, and he would likely enjoy it with Crowley. “Have you-” He cleared his throat. “Have you done that before?”

“A time or two.”

“And you enjoy it?”

He peeked over the top of his sunglasses. “I wouldn't have asked if I hadn't.”

It wasn't the sort of thing an alpha should allow, let alone the sort of thing an omega should ask for. It went against their instincts so strongly, but Aziraphale nodded. “I'll let you.”

“Alright. Have you ever…?”

“Once. With someone else. Ah. It was rather mediocre, but the relationship was even worse. However, I enjoy doing things alone, and I trust you.”

“Awful past relationships is something I can relate to.” He kissed Aziraphale’s hand again before letting them fall, but not letting go. “And I think I can endeavour to be better than mediocre.”

“You're already superb in everything else we do together, so I have complete faith in you. But I do need quite a bit more prep than you.”

“I can work with that, angel. I can go slow and make sure you're ready.”

“I'm sure you will. I'm not entirely sure how my instincts will react, really. My former partner was a beta and I wasn't... I wasn't as in love with him as I'd hoped I was, so my instincts weren't as strong a factor as they may be with you.”

Crowley had to resist the urge to preen, though his tail did wag happily. “I've only done so with betas, too. So it'll be something new for both of us.”

“Then slow may indeed be the best pace.” Aziraphale squeezed his hand. “But I think we'll be just fine.”

“I think so too.” Crowley gave him a little tug, pulling him around the side of the car. “Now come on, I still have a picnic to have with you.”

“Oh, yes, I haven't forgotten. I'm feeling rather peckish, actually. I can't imagine why.”

Crowley grinned, all mischievous. “Beats me angel, I'm the one that did all the car maintenance.”

Chapter Text

The little place Crowley pulled in to was as secluded as one could get this close to London. The narrow, gravel road ended and widened just enough to park and be able to turn around without driving into the stream that tinkled over the bird song and light wind. There were algae green picnic tables, but Crowley ignored them. With a basket swinging from one arm, Aziraphale on the other, and blankets his alpha couldn’t seem to keep his nose out of, he led them both to a large ash. The branches above provided plenty of shade and Crowley knew from experience that most tourists preferred the more popular waterfall further up the stream and the little villages dotted about.

They weren’t likely to be disturbed here.

“So, what do you think?”

“It's lovely, Crowley. Even more so than I expected it to be.”

He was comfortable enough in the shade to pull his glasses off and wink as he tucked them into his shirt. “The things you learn about when young, in uni, and want somewhere to get hammered and not be bothered.”

Aziraphale laughed, spreading the blankets out neatly for them to sit upon. They smelled so heavily of his omega, of his beautiful Crowley. He pulled him down with him, bundling him in his lap so he could nuzzle right into the source of that sweet scent. “Much more valuable than the things you learn in class, I'm sure.”

“Oh, most definitely.” He was more than happy to let Aziraphale nuzzle and kiss how he liked, head tilted to expose the long line of his throat. “Much more fun, too.”

“I can't picture you in a classroom. You're terrible at sitting still.” Purring, Aziraphale licked and nuzzled at his scent gland. He would never get enough of those sweet caramel apples. “Even when I knot you, you wiggle.”

Crowley rolled his eyes and purposefully wiggled back against Aziraphale’s chest. “That's because I just have this energy and I need to move. School was awful. My teachers kept threatening to chain my legs to the floor if I didn't quit bouncing them.”

Aziraphale’s tail wagged, laughter spilling against Crowley’s skin. “And now you like being tied up.”

“That is a choice, thank you very much! Besides, I trust you'd let me out if I asked.”

“Without hesitation,” he promised, simply laying his cheek on Crowley’s shoulder and hugging his waist. “As pretty as you are with ropes against your skin, you're at your most gorgeous when you're happy.”

Crowley smiled, his tail wagging between them, and rested his hands over Aziraphale’s arms. “Well, no wonder you couldn't resist me today.”

“Not at all. Your scent gets so bright.”

“Bright? That's a funny way of describing it.”

“As shameful as this is for an author, it's really the only word I can think of for it. It's like… smelling fireworks, but it's you rather than fire and chemicals.”

“I used to like firework smell,” Crowley murmured, laying his head on Aziraphale's. “And I don't think it's shameful, if it's the best way then it's the best way.”

“It's not as full a description as you deserve.” Aziraphale stroked his side, purrs softly rumbling. “But it'll do.”

“Now you've got me wondering how I'm described in your book.”

He smiled. “Accurately.”

“Devilishly handsome, then.”

“Devilish, certainly.” And beautiful. “You're currently a murder suspect.”

Crowley gasped, hand over his chest in the most dramatic way he could manage. “Suspected for murder? How anyone could think a gorgeous face like mine is capable of such horrors is beyond me.”

“Mm.” Aziraphale kissed his neck, tail swishing. Silly thing. “A previously nameless character was accusing you of it all, but he's currently getting his comeuppance. The real killer doesn't enjoy a smug prat trying to push the credit onto someone else.”

“Oh-ho, this killer sounds like my kind of guy.”

“He isn't, I promise you. His character may be mildly based on someone I know you aren't particularly fond of. Or weren't, rather. He has a wife and child he's neglecting in order to commit these murders.” Aziraphale kissed his neck again. “It's why you're a convincing suspect. You're in the same social circles.”

Crowley gasped, head whipping around to look at him and tail a rapid red and black blur. “You didn't, you crazy bastard.”

“Mmhm. I did. As I told you, your presence changed quite a bit of the book.”

“Apparently!” And it was more than a little flattering to be such an integral part of Aziraphale's next book, but also a little nerve wracking. “Oh… I hope people like it.”

“I'm sure they will. And if it isn't as well-received, that's alright. I'm enjoying writing it.”

“Enjoying putting fictional me through the wringer, you mean.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “You're handling it very well, all things considered.”

Crowley hummed and laid his head back on Aziraphale’s shoulder. “You know, I can't honestly say I know how I'd respond to being accused of murder.”

“Fictional you was and is furious but doing your best to continue living your life.”

“Mmm, stubborn, then. I approve.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I feel I captured you very well.”

“I'm sure you did. You're a professional, after all.” He sat up and pulled the basket closer to them, but made no move to actually leave Aziraphale’s lap. “I mostly packed finger-food stuffs, so I hope that's alright.”

“That's fine, pet.”

He pulled out a Tupperware container of raspberries, blueberries, and strawberries along with quickly made cold sandwiches. Honestly, this had mostly been an excuse to show up unannounced and have a little date. Crowley plucked up a blueberry and offered it to Aziraphale’s lips. “Well, so long as my alpha approves.”

Aziraphale lifted a brow and opened his mouth, lips closing around both blueberry and fingertips. He sucked lightly before freeing Crowley’s fingers, smiling as he chewed the berry. “I always approve of my omega.”

“I'll keep that in mind. Would be a very sad day if it ever changed.” He bit into a strawberry, a drop of juice dribbled down his chin that Crowley chased with his tongue and he knew Aziraphale was watching.

“You're doing this on purpose,” he accused, lips still curved.

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Crowley said as innocently as he could manage.

“You're a liar. Usually a much better one.” Aziraphale cupped his hips. “And I have something to discuss with you, you distraction.”

“Oh? Normally when a romantic partner says they want to talk, it means something bad.”

“I just had you on the side of the road. I have nothing bad to say to you.”

While Crowley wanted to agree, having sex had not, previously, always meant everything was just fine. “I would say your tail wagging is a better indicator of your good mood than how recently we've fucked.”

“Crude thing, but I suppose you're right. It isn't anything bad though, pet, truly. It's about your job.”

“Mmm. Well, the café you sent my way worked perfectly so I'm all ears.”

“The café did indeed work perfectly, so you should already know the job I'm about to share. She hasn't found another estate agent, and I trust you.”

It wasn't difficult to remember the other job Aziraphale had mentioned on what he considered their first actual date. “Oh! The estate sale?”

“Yes. I'd like to take you to meet her soon. I've spoken highly of you, so she's looking forward to this and to finally selling the building.” She was also one of Aziraphale's oldest and dearest friends, so wanted to meet Crowley for entirely different reasons as well. 

“Well I'm definitely up for it.” He settled against Aziraphale’s chest and popped a raspberry into his mouth. “The café sale will settle some debts once the commission comes in, but this new court case is just going to accrue more.”

Aziraphale nuzzled into Crowley’s hair, frown slight and fingers fidgeting with his shirt. “I wasn't aware that you were in debt from all of this.”

Shit. Crowley squirmed, hating that he'd suddenly let something like that slip. “Well, I mean, you know lawyers aren't exactly cheap. Couple that with rising rent prices…”

Aziraphale stroked his back. “And you don't get the best sale opportunities because you're an omega,” he murmured, understanding that even as he hated it. It was really no wonder he'd tried so hard to make a good impression that first meeting at the bookshop. “The café commission. It'll settle everything that's pressing?”

“For the most part, yeah, but don't you go worrying about my financials, I'm not at risk of losing the flat or anything.”

Aziraphale tipped his head back, meeting Crowley’s gaze. “Are you certain? I'm not going to allow anything to happen to you or Warlock.”

Crowley smiled fondly at him, feeling more loved in this relationship than he had in others that he'd been in longer. “I'm sure, angel, don't fret.”

“I will fret if I like.” It took a lot of effort to not offer a check then and there to clear any and all debts, but he knew Crowley would be more offended than grateful. “Will you... If things become very serious for whatever reason, will you allow me to help?”

He wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that. Part of him, a part he wasn't particularly fond of, wondered if he could get Aziraphale to just pay for everything and be done with it. But he also didn't want to be some kept mate, a pretty thing on the arm of an alpha who couldn't even take care of himself. That had been on offer once and he hadn't liked it then.

But that wasn't what Aziraphale was offering and Crowley hated that his first two initial reactions were either how to take advantage or to go on the defensive. He pressed back against him, hiding his face in Aziraphale's throat and breathing in his rich bourbon and chocolate scent. “I- We can… talk about it. If it comes to that.”

“Alright. That's all I ask, Crowley.” Aziraphale stroked his hair gently, fingers brushing his ears. “I know you can take care of you and your pup and that you have been. This- I'm not offering anything because of our presentations. I'm offering because I have more than I know what to do with and because I love you both.”

His ears twitched with each light touch. “I know. I guess I'm just a bit… sensitive about this sort of thing. I know you don't mean it like that, though.”

“No. If I thought you'd accept, I'd have offered to write a check immediately.”

Crowley shook his head immediately. “No. Absolutely not. I couldn't possibly accept something like that.”

“See? Exactly why I didn't offer. And I promise I won't fret too much over this.” Aziraphale kissed an ear. “You'll be fine.”

“Yes, I will.” He was determined to be, for Warlock and for himself. “But this estate sale, anything more you can tell me about it?”

“Well, her most recent appraisal was just six months ago. I believe I already told you the worth is around sixteen million? She's willing to go as low as ten just to sell it as she doesn't owe anything on it, but she'd prefer it if you listed at fifteen to start. The only residents at the moment are three servants who will be moving to the country home as soon as it sells, so they'll keep it clean and leave for showings.” Aziraphale hummed. “Ah. And it will come furnished.”

Crowley let out a whistle. “Servants. My god.” That was good, though. A lot of estate sales ended up being a problem to manage because they were old homes owned by old folks whose children didn't actually want to bother with it all when they passed. “Well, sounds very cut and dried to me.”

“Yes. It's just about communicating with her, and she wants an omega she can trust. Because I trust you, she does.”

His tail thumped where it was laid over Aziraphale’s leg. From banned from his shop to a trusted lover in such a short time, Crowley would worry they were moving rather fast but being held like he was felt too right to try and slow it down. “Communication I can do. Might take some time to sell if it really is that pricey though, depending on the history of the place.”

“We'll see. I have more contacts, you know. I'm not sure of your current workload, but I could put a few suggestions in a few ears.”

“I get clients in and out, nothing important or high profile though. Most of my work before the café was doing the leg work to bring more clients in.”

Yet they'd sent him to his shop. Aziraphale disliked Crowley’s terrible coworkers even more. “How many can you handle at one time?”

“Aahh- Depends on what they need. If it's just listing a place, I can do dozens of those at a time. That's just getting pictures and property information to make the listing ad. If someone's looking for a place, that requires a more hands on approach so can only really do a few at a time before scheduling conflicts become a nightmare.”

“Mm. I imagine it's the same for showings? For those properties you list.”

“Yeah, pretty much, and open houses take all goddamn day.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Alright. I'll take that all into consideration.”

“You don't have to go through so much trouble, angel,” Crowley murmured, finding Aziraphale’s fingers and lacing them with his own. “I'm sure you've got other things to do.”

“It isn't any trouble at all, my dear.” Especially if this was the only way Crowley would let him help. “I'll squeeze bragging about my wonderful, intelligent omega in my schedule somewhere.”

Crowley laughed and grinned against his throat. “Well, so long as you're singing my praises…”

“Oh, I always do.” Relieved by his returned laughter, Aziraphale smiled. “If I can't be around you, I talk about you. Or, of course, I write about you.”

“Seems I'm always on your mind, angel.”

“Yes, well... I realise that sounds... obsessive.”

He sounded worried and Crowley couldn't have that. He moved, turned in Aziraphale's hold to straddle his lap and was delighted at how Aziraphale’s hands almost automatically gravitated to his waist. “Good. Means I leave no room for anyone else to worm their way in.”

Cheeks pinkening, Aziraphale shook his head. “You certainly don't. I love you.”

“I love you, too. And I like knowing I'm on your mind.” Crowley kissed his cheek, lips soft on Aziraphale’s warm skin. “Like knowing my alpha's thinking about me when we're apart.” His kisses trailed lower, over Aziraphale’s jaw, and Crowley couldn't help his grin at the way hands on his waist tightened their grip.

“You make it impossible to not have you on my mind.” His mouth was so soft. Aziraphale angled his head with a pleased little sound. “Calling you beautiful and clever are hardly empty words.”

Crowley took the invitation for what it was, mouth sliding lower down Aziraphale’s throat and towards the source of the scent he'd grown to love. “It's very flattering, you know. Such a handsome alpha so smitten with me.”

“Mm- Mmhm.” Aziraphale shivered at the first brush of tongue against his scent gland, tail wagging slow but steady. “Although 'smitten' isn't a word I'd expect from you.”

“No?” Everyone knew betas generally thought their scent oil was bitter, but Crowley found Aziraphale’s rich and heady just like the way it smelled. “And what word would you expect, then?”

“Something, ah, modern.” A hand left his waist to stroke the soft fur of his tail.

Crowley hummed, tail twitching in Aziraphale's loose grasp. “Besotted, enamoured, enthralled.” He lapped at Aziraphale's scent and groaned at the petting that turned into a light tug. “I could go on.”

“I have no doubt about that. And here I'm supposed to be the author.” Aziraphale tugged again to feel another groan against his throat. “Why is it that I can hardly be alone with you for ten minutes without wanting to be inside you?”

“Probably the same reason I can't stop wanting you inside me.” Crowley let his blunt teeth worry the skin under his mouth, felt the sharp inhale and an even sharper tug. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Never,” he growled. “But it's your celebration, pet. You can have whatever you want.”

He loved getting to feel that growl in Aziraphale's voice, the way it made him feel safe and wanted. “You,” Crowley groaned, lips travelling back up so he could look Aziraphale in his storm-blue eyes. “I always want you. Every second of the bloody day.”

“I'm yours,” he promised, cupping his cheeks to draw him in to a firm kiss.

Crowley let him tilt his head just so, lips parting with a low sound when plump fingers tweaked one of his ears. There was nothing else like kissing Aziraphale, he kissed like Crowley was the only thing that mattered. It was distracting enough that Crowley hadn't realised they were leaning back until they were very suddenly prone. The kiss was broken just so they could share breathy laughs on blankets under an ash tree. “Ha- Alright there, angel?”

“Just trying to give you what you want, darling.” Aziraphale’s tail wagged as he breathed in the bright scent of Crowley’s happiness. He'd made his mate happy and, as he dove in for another kiss, he promised himself that he always would.

Crowley knew something was wrong even before the pup got in the car. Warlock kept looking over his shoulder, staring so hard he missed the Bentley's arrival entirely until he heard Aziraphale call his name.

It was a surprise to see him, but the pup couldn't find any joy under the sheer weight of relief as he abandoned any sense of cool to run to the car. With his scent coated in panic and fear, Aziraphale sent Crowley a worried look as he squeezed into the back and tried making himself as small as possible.

The look on Crowley’s face was just as worried as he glanced into the rearview mirror. “Hey, hellspawn, everything alright back there?”

Warlock stared out the window while Aziraphale adjusted the seat to get back in the car. His shoulders jerked, as noncommittal an answer as he could make while staring hard out the window as if someone might dare approach the antique Bentley.

Crowley waited until the door was shut and Aziraphale buckled back in before pulling away, he didn't have to tell Warlock to buckle up but it was still difficult to keep his full attention on the road with terrified pup scent filling the car. “The basket in the back has fruit and a sandwich in it if you're hungry at all.”

His shoulders jerked again. “M'fine.”

He sent a desperate look to Aziraphale. “Alright, Aziraphale wants to take us to dinner, so if you have any requests better make 'em now.”

Warlock fidgeted with his bag, glad for the distance between them and the school. “Can we go home first?”

Aziraphale forced a small smile, reigning in his own worries so they didn't disrupt his own scent. “Do you want your nest?”

“Yeah.”

“We absolutely can go home first. That'll let me put that food away so it doesn't go bad.” Crowley changed lanes, fixing his mental map from 'bookshop' to 'flat'.

“Will you tell us what happened after some time in your nest?” Aziraphale asked, hands wringing in his lap. When Warlock sent him a suspicious look, his shoulders sank and his smile turned genuine and apologetic. “My dear, you smell as if you've had a wretched day. There's no hiding that from us.”

Warlock looked away from them both to stare out the window. “One of Jack's friends presented as... as an alpha. They were basically leaving me alone, but today...”

Crowley scowled at the road, fingers tapping an agitated rhythm on the steering wheel. “Bloody little twerps. Someone bigger'n them should teach them lessons.”

Aiming to soothe, Aziraphale reached out and patted his thigh. “I know you've had problems before, but did you try telling an adult?”

“No.”

Of course he hadn't, none of them ever listened to him. Crowley couldn't blame him for just giving up on trying to tell them. “Well I have that meeting with your teachers on Friday. These little brats can't keep getting away with this. At this rate they're going to turn out entirely rotten.”

“Especially if they all have that wretched alpha guidance counsellor,” Aziraphale mused.

“Can I just stay home til Friday?”

Crowley sighed and shook his head. “I'm sorry, pup, but the school's gonna start needing doctor's notes if I keep calling you in. Missed too much already.”

“Does my therapist count as a doctor?” he mumbled.

“Not the kind they're looking for, I'm afraid.” And his heart broke a little bit to see how Warlock slumped in the seat, his scent more misery than sweet.

“It's only two days, Warlock. You can do anything for two days,” Aziraphale assured him, instincts not at all sure what to do with the helpless feeling. He wasn't supposed to be helpless. He was supposed to protect his omegas.

“But I hate it. I was used to Jack's growling, but this is new and they're both doing it. And everybody else who's an omega hates it but we can't move seats.”

“And your teacher isn't listening to any of you?”

“No. It sucks.”

“Alright, I'll bring it up with your headteacher. I can't possibly be the only parent whose pup is raising this issue.”

“Certainly not. No decent parent would tolerate the tormenting of their child.” No alpha or omega parent would allow their pup to be mistreated by an alpha. It went against every instinct.

Crowley definitely agreed, which raised the question of why the little bastard hadn't been reprimanded yet. Surely there were parents of an omega pup who had more time, money, and influence than Crowley who could have came forward. “Well I'm certainly not going to bloody tolerate it.”

“Because you're more than just a decent parent, pet.”

“Yeah,” Warlock quietly agreed.

It did warm Crowley’s heart to know they both thought so. “I'm sorry you're going through this, Warlock. I'm going to do everything I can to fix it. They can't keep letting them get away with this, you have the right to an education free from this sort of thing. It's part of the law.”

“Then they should all get arrested,” Warlock muttered.

Aziraphale struggled not to smile with too much mirth, glancing Crowley’s way not helping at all. He squeezed his leg. “That isn't likely to happen, I'm afraid, but there are people above your headteacher. If they have to get involved with this, they will.” Even if he had to make that call himself.

“Exactly. The headteacher has to answer to the school board. And I might not have the weight to throw around that Thad did, but I can sure as shit make a fuss.”

“I know.” His scent was starting to even out. Less fear, less misery. Both were still there, but his calm helped the two adults immeasurably. “'Cause you're a huge brat.”

Aziraphale couldn't possibly swallow that laugh. It was true. “Oh, he is that.”

“Oi! It's not fair to gang up on me like that.” But he still grinned, if Warlock was taking shots at him, that meant he was starting to feel better.

“You should be proud of him for his honesty,” Aziraphale teased, smile bright with mischief.

Crowley stuck his tongue out at both of them. “See if I kiss you goodnight now, angel.”

“You kiss him all the time,” Warlock complained.

Aziraphale chuckled. “I earn them, so I'd hope so.”

“Whatever.” He looked out the window again, though he didn't feel as if he was trying to hide or avoid anyone anymore. He was safe with the two people he trusted most. “Are you... Are you coming on Friday?”

Aziraphale looked back at him then at Crowley, uncertainty written on his features. “I... would go. If you and Crowley agree to have me there and if I'm needed.”

The knee-jerk reaction was to say no, that he could do it on his own, that he didn't need an alpha's authority there. And Crowley knew that was his own stupid pride speaking, a defense to force others to see him as the independent person he was. What was more important? His pride, or ensuring his pup had the best possible opportunity? “I- If you want to come, I won't say no.”

“I want you to. You saw Jack and his stupid friends. You can tell her they chased me and everything and you can show my stupid teacher that growls and purrs are different for alphas.”

That was quite a bit of responsibility Warlock was asking of him, but it also showed a level of trust that warmed Aziraphale’s heart. “I would like to go, then. Not as your guardian, obviously, but just as a witness.”

“Alright. It should be right after school so I'll pick you up.” He pulled into his designated parking space and sighed. “And… it'll be nice to have you as moral support at the very least.”

Aziraphale took his hand when the car stopped, keys removed from the engine. “He's yours first,” he murmured, “and I'm going to respect that.”

“I know,” Crowley murmured back, squeezing Aziraphale’s fingers. “And I want you to be a part of his life, I'm just bad at letting it happen.”

“Well, after a year of having him all to yourself, I think I would be too.”

“Can we get out?” Warlock demanded. “Geez.”

“Impatient pup,” Crowley muttered, clambering out of the car and pulling the seat forward. He just barely managed to get the basket before Warlock scrambled out. “Watch it!”

Warlock stuck his tongue out. “You're slow.”

“That's because I'm old. Gotta give the elderly time to get going.”

“Whatever. You were probably just gonna kiss Aziraphale some more.”

“I wouldn't have minded,” Aziraphale teased, closing the door behind him as he climbed out. This hadn't been how he'd expected to visit the flat again, but he didn't mind. He wanted to be surrounded in omega scent.

Crowley smirked, taking Aziraphale’s hand when he came around the side of the car. “Still could, the day is young.”

“Haven't had enough yet, have you?”

“Never. He's lucky I don't just snog you in the lift.”

Aziraphale laughed, squeezing his hand. They followed Warlock to the front door, and it felt so much like family. More, even, than when they went to the bookshop. His brows drew together as he opened the door for the two of them, mind suddenly whirling at that feeling. That sense that the shop was less of a home than he was used to it being. It had been his home his entire life. Why wouldn't that continue? Why shouldn't it? For Heaven's sake, it was only his second time being there.

He smiled when Warlock sent him a confused look, waving him inside. “Just thinking to myself. Nothing for you to fret over.”

“Is it about me?”

“No, duck.” At least nothing directly about him. Aziraphale laid a hand over his shoulder, squeezed. “Adult thoughts, I'm afraid.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow at him, he didn't smell anything particularly 'adult' on Aziraphale. “Well, adult means it's about me, obviously.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Not quite. It's about me. So nothing for you to fret over either.”

“I don't fret.” And Crowley grinned when confronted with two faces that very clearly said they knew he was lying.

They followed him into the lift and neither adult protested when Warlock settled himself squarely between them. If he wanted to feel safer there, they weren't going to have him move. Crowley held Warlock's hand when he reached for it, and Aziraphale smiled when black ears and a tail unfurled. Their pup was comfortable, and it made Aziraphale’s tail wag.

Even though he still wanted to head straight to his nest when bags and coats were hung up, Aziraphale’s tail continued its rhythmic swishing. “You're very good at making him feel better.”

Crowley watched a shaggy black tail disappear right around a corner and sighed. “I wish I could do more than just make him feel better. I want to just fix everything, poor pup's had enough hardship already.”

“I know, dearest. Something will come of Friday's meeting, I'm sure of it.”

“It bloody well better. I'm at my wits end over here.”

Aziraphale took his hands. “If nothing else, perhaps you look into switching schools again. I don't think this torment is more important than stability and I'm sure his therapist would agree.”

“No, you're right, he deserves to go school somewhere he isn't being constantly harassed.” Crowley squeezed his fingers, they were so sure and steady. Easily clung to. “Even though I know we're working on it, it still feels like I'm failing him.”

“I know it does, pet, but you aren't. He wouldn't reach for you if you were the one causing harm. He doesn't reach for anyone like he does you.”

“Yeah, well I'm the only adult that's been here. Did you know none of Thad's family even made the effort to try and visit him when he was in hospital? His sister took a bloody trip to Greece while the poor kid had casts on both legs.”

“Then how, Crowley, could you ever fail him with examples like that?” Aziraphale lifted his hands, kissed the backs of each. “You're a good parent. You're an excellent one.”

Being as sweet as he was, there was no way Crowley could have done anything less than fall in love with him. “I try to be. It's the least I can do for him.”

“And you do so much more than the least.” Aziraphale smiled. “Why don't I order us something instead of going out? He still needs to do his homework, and we don't know when he'll leave his nest.”

“You don't mind?”

His smile softened. “My dear, he comes first.”

“Well, when you put it that way…” Crowley leaned in and kissed his cheek. “How can I refuse?” He really was a special sort of alpha, Crowley could think of a few who'd throw some sort of fit over having to change plans.

“You clearly can't.” Purring, Aziraphale rubbed their noses together. “Thank you for bringing me back here.”

Crowley’s cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. “Despite all points to the contrary, I do actually want you here. It feels right when you're here.”

“Crowley...” In some ways, telling Crowley he loved him was the easiest thing to say. There wasn't an easy way to say he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Crowley, that he wanted to become a permanent member of this little family. There wasn't an easy way to explain that walking up to the building knowing he would soon be in a place filled with caramel, toffee, and apples had made him feel more at home than the one he'd had all his life.

Or, well, there was an easy way to say all of that, but he couldn't unless he wanted Crowley to take several steps back in their relationship. “I feel right,” he said instead, “when I'm with the pair of you.”

“Good. And I'm sure Warlock would agree with me that you belong here with us.”

Aziraphale pulled him close, kissed him firmly. He wanted to belong there with them. “Let's figure out what to eat, shall we? Unless you want a shower and trust me to order for you.”

Crowley wrinkled his nose, he did still have leftover motor oil on his hands and shirt and there was a distinct stickiness to his backside that could use cleaning up. “Shower, I think. So feel free to order if you can get Warlock to tell you what he wants.”

“I'll do my best.” Aziraphale’s hands slid down Crowley’s back, settling on his arse and squeezing firmly. “My sweet mess.”

“You,” Crowley gasped, “are very unlucky we have a pup to feed, or I'd be dragging you in there with me.”

“You,” Aziraphale growled, “are insatiable.” Then he kissed the tip of his nose and released him. “Now off you pop.”

Oh, he really did love him. Crowley threw a wink over his shoulder as he left, knowing he had undivided alpha attention on his arse. Part of him wanted to ask Aziraphale to stay the night with them, he still had his messed trousers and shirt after all. Cleaned from their nightly activities and carefully folded in his dresser.

Because Aziraphale did belong here. Having his alpha close settled instincts and just felt better. Aziraphale had slipped so effortlessly into their lives and now his absence could be keenly felt. And Crowley certainly wanted him around, if felt like having a family again, a pack, however small.

Maybe he would ask Aziraphale to stay the night, sod Archer and the social services. He didn't think he could ask for more than that, though. Aziraphale had a nest and home of his own and it wasn't like Crowley could give him the Bond a proper mate like Aziraphale deserved. And even if he could, there was no guarantee Aziraphale would even want to live full time together. He knew better than to expect romantic partners to want the same things he did, Aziraphale loved him and wanted Warlock around. It was the best he could hope for right now.

Of course Aziraphale stayed the night. He refreshed the kerchief Warlock offered him, keeping it on his scent gland the entire evening. He privately hoped the fresh alpha scent would keep the two bullies at bay, but knew Warlock would have something comforting at the very least.

He also just enjoyed watching and being a part of a clearly familiar morning ritual. He'd awakened with the dawn as usual, but had left his omega to awake with his alarm. After a shower, he'd puttered about the kitchen making tea and a pancake batter, wandered Crowley’s plant room and complimented every green leaf thoroughly whilst sipping his first cuppa, and had returned to Crowley’s room when his obnoxious alarm had gone off so he didn't awaken alone.

He kissed and nuzzled and encouraged him into the waking world, then the shower and had returned to the kitchen to turn the batter into something edible.

Shouts of “Hellspawn!” when Warlock didn't awaken with the first, second, or third knocks were followed by a young pup's howl of protest when his light was switched on, but promises of pancakes had him trudging out of his room minutes later.

It was a lovely morning until tension grew as they approached school, so Aziraphale climbed out when they arrived. If he was a little puffed up, his scent spiking with a protectiveness that was noticed by anyone near them, that was just more incentive for people to behave around the pup and it earned him a hug goodbye. That was something Aziraphale treasured. That and Warlock's improved mood that afternoon when his omegas arrived at a bookshop that had felt strangely empty all day.

Thursday it was entirely different. He didn’t cry as he wasn’t the sort of pup to cry easily, but he was tense and his scent was awash with distress. It had taken a long while for Crowley to get it out of him, but once he had, it only took a single text to Aziraphale and two packed bags for them to be at the bookshop. Warlock was still upset enough that he let Aziraphale pick him up, face burying in his scent gland.

It was a good thing Crowley had told him the issue before they’d arrived or his scent would be more furious than comforting. They’d taken his kerchief. No one stole scented gifts. Absolutely no one.

It took a long time for Warlock to relax that night without his nest, but he went to school the next day with Aziraphale’s scent clinging to him after staying the night and, really, the meeting couldn’t come fast enough for any of them. Aziraphale was oddly still on the Bentley’s passenger seat, fingers laced tightly and resting on his knee. “I tried to scent a new one for him today, but I’m afraid it only smelled like stress.”

“I know. I'm sure he appreciates it regardless.” And Crowley was eternally grateful for Aziraphale’s presence throughout all of this. He didn't know what he would have done without the support. “And if they've bothered him again today…”

“That’s my fear. I keep having to remind myself that they’re only children, and there’s time for them to correct their behaviour. Otherwise, I may start growling the second they’re mentioned.”

“Children who should have learned this shit by now, if you ask me.”

“Yes, obviously, but children nevertheless. Their parents, however, and Warlock’s teacher…” A small growl slipped, Aziraphale quick to clear his throat. “They’ve allowed this situation to escalate.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” And he couldn't help but feel like it was partially his fault for letting it go on as long as it had. He reached out blindly and grasped Aziraphale’s hands, to comfort him as much to comfort himself. They needed to go in level headed and not frothing mad like he wanted to be.

Aziraphale held on, thumb rubbing soothing circles against the back of his hand. “There will be a solution today. I don’t think either of us will leave that office dissatisfied, even if it means him switching schools.”

“Got that right. Hell, I'd figure out a way to get him into a bloody private school if it would stop this shit.”

“There are plenty to choose from. I have a list of the nearest schools, organised by both distance and average test scores.”

Crowley actually laughed, shaking his head. “Of course you do. Why should I have expected anything less?”

“Well, I was left alone all day whilst you worked so I clearly had no other choice but to look into every available option. I’m quite thoroughly refreshed on school-related laws.”

“I figured you'd be working on your book, angel.” But Crowley squeezed his hand. “I do appreciate everything you're doing, though. It means the world to both of us.”

“He was just so upset last night, it’s all I’ve been able to think about. It’s difficult to write when my mind refuses to stop turning that over and over again. I actually opened the shop for a few hours. I sold something.”

“My god! A tragedy.”

“Oh, stop that.” Aziraphale chuckled. “It wasn’t a book, so I’m not quite that far gone.”

“Oh, good, you had me worried there for a second. Need my alpha with his wits about him.” And the banter did much to help quell the worry about all of this. He just wanted to do right by Warlock and give the pup the best chance at success he could get.

“Don’t fret, pet. I was even able to haggle and come out ahead.” Aziraphale smiled at him. “I’ll be alright.”

Crowley snorted, but the beginnings of a good mood died as he pulled into the school’s parking lot, but at least he didn't have to go this alone and neither did Warlock. “Ready to get this over with, angel?”

“Absolutely. Oh! Ah. Before I surprise you with this in the meeting, I did have that young American friend of mine - you really should meet her; I think you would like her. I had her assist me in putting my security footage on a Digital Video Disc. So I do have a copy of those hooligans chasing him into my shop.”

“A digital- Angel, do you mean a DVD?”

“A Digital Video Disc, yes.”

“DVD.”

“Whatever you wish to call it, I have proof if anyone dares say it didn’t happen. There’s even audio.”

“I wish to call it a DVD.” Crowley threw a crooked smirk at him when Aziraphale huffed. Oh, he really did love him. “But good. Even if we can't prove it's the same little monsters that are tormenting him, at least we have proof they stalked him off school grounds.”

“Yes, indeed.” Aziraphale’s chin lifted as he climbed out of the car, and he firmly straightened his coat. “Now let’s go lick some serious butt.”

Crowley stared at him over the top of the car, mouth working silently for a moment before he let out a wheeze. “It's kick butt, Aziraphale, not- Not the other thing.” He didn't need to be thinking about that while surrounded by preteens.

“Kick,” Aziraphale repeated, committing that to memory. It did make more sense. “Right. Yes. Well, shall we?”

“Might as well.” He came around the side and took Aziraphale’s hand. They were in this together and there was no one else Crowley would rather have at his side.

“Did you get sent to the headteacher’s office often?”

“Oh, all the time. I was constantly in trouble for something or another.”

“Of course you were, you demon.” Aziraphale squeezed his hand, growing oddly nervous as they made their way inside and towards the main office. “So was I.”

“No. I can't see you being a little troublemaker.” The school Crowley had gone to had been a small village school where everyone knew each other. Nothing like this multi-story, sprawling place, though the persistent chill was a similarity.

“I most certainly was. I was a talkative, active reader who would correct my teachers or read ahead in textbooks. Perhaps not a troublemaker in the same sense you were, but still in trouble often enough that this feels a bit familiar. I wasn’t expecting to feel this way as an adult.”

Crowley laughed, earning them looks from students who clearly just wanted to go home. “You getting nervous, angel?”

“Of course! Which I do realise is quite ridiculous.”

It only made him laugh harder. “I was never nervous when getting sent to the office.”

“I always was.”

“Aww, don't worry, angel, I'll keep the headteacher from rapping your knuckles.”

“You’d better. I’m relying on you,” he teased back.

“As you should. I'm very reliable.” Though their gentle ribbing of each other quieted as they approached the open double doors with an 'office' sign above.

Chapter Text

Warlock was in the office when they arrived, but the room predominantly smelled of the alpha behind the large desk. It didn’t quite overpower the misery of the hunched up pup, but it tried. It was also, surprisingly enough to Aziraphale, familiar. Nerves disappeared as he blinked at the headteacher, who seemed just as surprised to see him.

She rose quickly, not even glancing Crowley’s way. “Aziraphale?”

“Janet, hello,” he replied, back straightening. It was different to actually recognise the headteacher. It should make things far simpler, though he was stunned that she was among those to blame for Warlock’s misery.

A misery he was more than happy to wallow in, the pup trying to shrink himself down even smaller. “You know her?”

“Yes, my dear. We were in several classes together at university. She's friends with someone very dear to me, in fact.”

 In his experience, it was never good when the adults actually knew each other. Nothing was going to get fixed after all. “Oh.”

Crowley glanced between them, frowning slightly. “Small world.” 

“Indeed.” Aziraphale lifted a brow. “So I’m more than a little startled that you would allow this pup’s educator to insist that a small group of omegas wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between an alpha growling or purring. Or that you would discourage a pup from protecting his peers from negative alpha influences, rather than discouraging the young alpha’s behaviours. You know very well that firm, consistent guidance is needed when alphas are young so this doesn’t develop into dangerous aggression.”

Warlock’s eyes popped wide, his scrunching shifting to surprise. Oh. So maybe things were going to change.

The dark glasses kept Crowley’s own wide-eyed expression mostly neutral, but his eyebrows did raise up into his hairline. Sometimes he forgot just how protective alpha instincts could get when properly motivated. “Angel…” 

Mrs. Kaur’s gaze shifted to him, her curiosity evident. But she didn’t comment on it, instead gesturing to the available seats in front of her desk. “If you gentlemen will take a seat, we can get started. Aziraphale, how exactly do you know Mr. Crowley?”

“We became better acquainted because of Warlock.” Which was very true, and she knew he was a terrible liar. He let Crowley take the seat beside Warlock and he perched himself neatly in the other, sending him an apologetic look. Of course he’d immediately overstep. He truly needed to reign himself in.

“But we're not here because of Aziraphale, he's here as support. We're here about the incessant bullying Warlock has had to endure that has now escalated to stealing a scented gift and stalking off school grounds. Frankly, the behaviour is appalling.” 

“The alleged behaviour,” the young beta interrupted. “Really, ever since Jackson presented as an alpha, so many accusations have been made against him and now Kenneth is experiencing the same thing. What we should start with are false accusations and how detrimental those are to peers.”

“But they’re not false!” Warlock protested. “They’re always growling at us and they did steal my kerchief! They stole it out of my pocket!”

“Perhaps it just fell,” Mrs. Kaur suggested, and Warlock was quick to protest that as well. It hadn’t “just fallen” because Kenney had waved it in his face before he and Jack had passed it back and forth, getting their own scents on it and laughing.

“I didn’t see any such thing,” the beta said primly.

“Because you don’t listen! You don’t care!” he snapped, flinching automatically when Crowley’s hand touched his knee.

The touch was just meant to be a light, soothing one and Crowley kept his hand there. Warlock needed to know he had adults in his corner. “Where is the kerchief now? It was never returned to us and I would very much like to have it back.”

“Well, if it fell out of his pocket, we have no way of knowing where exactly it is. Unless one of our more responsible students returned it to lost and found.”

Aziraphale nearly growled then and there. As viciously as could be. Their pup wouldn’t lie about the circumstances, not when there was nothing to gain. “Has lost and found been searched?” he asked instead. 

“I don’t believe so.”

“Well, then.”

“Then someone should look. It has a very distinctive pack tartan on it and Aziraphale’s scent. It can't be that hard to bloody find.” 

“Well, it’s been tainted as far as scents go,” Aziraphale mused, “but the tartan is indeed from my pack. I only own three kerchiefs with the pattern on it, though I’ve given two away to my omegas.”

Warlock perked up a bit, surprised and pleased to hear the claim and about the kerchiefs. He knew the pattern was something Aziraphale really liked, but he hadn’t known it was his pack’s. 

“I’m afraid the box is behind the front desk and with the school day being over, reception may not be-”

Aziraphale rose, smile genial and scent tinged with the hint of a very dangerous fury. “Then I suppose one shouldn’t dilly-dally. I’ll take a look.”

Crowley very much did not want to be left alone with an alpha and a beta who were determined to make any and all excuses for an alpha child's bad behaviour, but he also wanted the kerchief back for Warlock. “Good luck, angel.”

He nodded and reached for Warlock’s shoulder to give it a brief squeeze of reassurance before turning to storm out of the room. Mrs. Kaur folded her hands on her desk, knee bouncing below it in a display of nerves she definitely didn’t want either omega to pick up on. “Mr. Crowley, I understand that you have concerns about what happens in class, but we’ve assured you multiple times that your charge exaggerates things. If you’re always going to take his side, he’s never going to learn to tell you the truth.”

“He isn't exaggerating,” Crowley insisted, trying to keep his own frustration at bay. “Dismissing omega concerns as lies, overreactions, and exaggerations is the exact reason why it took so long to get the rights we have. I'm not about to just ignore my pup when he comes home smelling like terror.” 

“He could also be misreading situations.”

“Because being repeatedly cornered by an alpha and his little pack of followers has all sorts of easily misunderstood nuance to it.” 

“It could. We're not involved the way he is, and the other pups say they aren't doing anything nefarious.”

“There have been a few mentions of their behaviour from other omegas in class, but I think it's all a misunderstanding. Jackson and his friends say,” his teacher said as the door opened, “that they've noticed Warlock doesn't have any friends. If they're being a little... rough, you could always talk to them about it. Instead of always trying to run away.”

“Are you insinuating that you have, in fact, seen Warlock trying to flee and you've done nothing?” Aziraphale said from the door, any sense of calm he'd been able to achieve from the short walk drowned by his lowly rumbling growls. 

“Ah... That isn't exactly what I meant.”

“Well that's what it sounded like to me,” Crowley growled. As an omega, his growls weren't nearly as dangerous sounding or threatening as an alpha's but they got the point across regardless. 

“Told you she didn't care,” Warlock mumbled. 

Mrs. Kaur straightened in her seat. “Ms. Morris, I'll take care of this from here. You're dismissed.”

Crowley’s scowl was fierce. “No, no. I'd like to hear why Warlock's difficulties making friends means he deserves to be tormented and 'taught lessons' by his alpha peers.” 

“They're obviously trying to help him.” Ms. Morris gestured helplessly at the headteacher, who went very still when she said, “She's already discussed this with her son.”

“Son?” Crowley looked between. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

To her credit, Ms. Morris at least looked confused. “She's Jackson's mother.”

Aziraphale’s jaw tightened. “That explains why your scent is on this, Janet.” He held up the found kerchief, offered it to Crowley so he could check it as well.

He took the offered cloth, not even trying to hide the way his nose wrinkled when Aziraphale’s bourbon and chocolate scent was drowned out by three other alpha scents, two of which smelled similar but not identical. They were also the same sort of scent that permeated the office. “Well, that also explains why no one's been disciplining the little hellion.” 

Aziraphale gripped the back of Crowley’s chair to keep someone between him and the other alpha, someone his instincts had now designated an enemy. Too much of him wanted to puff up, snap, snarl, posture to show dominance, but he knew it wouldn't help. “I have security footage that shows your pup chasing ours into my shop and he very clearly says that he isn't doing so for fun or as some sort of harmless attempt to make friends. So I suggest that you think very carefully about how Monday is going to go lest Crowley get a copy into higher ranking hands than yours.”

Normally having a growly, angry alpha behind him would be cause for concern, but with Aziraphale it only made Crowley feel more confident. “I already have an idea for how I want Monday to go.” He glanced at Ms. Morris, who was slowly edging away from the frowning alpha behind the desk. “Jackson is no longer going to be seated behind Warlock. He's going to be moved so he can no longer growl at our pup from behind all damn day. And he's going to leave him alone when inside or outside the classroom. Warlock has made it clear he isn't interested in being friends, Jackson can either accept that or go sulk somewhere else.” 

“He shouldn't sit behind any omega,” Aziraphale added. “Nor should a single one of his friends. That aggressive pack mentality is dangerous.”

“Got that right,” Crowley muttered, though he'd love for the little hellions to try growling at his back.

“Additionally, I would suggest that Ms. Morris receive additional training on developing dynamics as she clearly isn’t capable of handling pups who are beginning to present. One should never ignore an entire group of pups, even if the perpetrator is one’s boss’s son.”

“Yeah, the lad can't be getting preferential treatment. That's not fair for the rest of the class or the omegas he's bothering.” 

“It sucks,” Warlock muttered, lips twitching despite himself when Crowley and Aziraphale slanted him a look. It was different to have two adults on his side. Even when his actual parents had been alive, he’d rarely even have one, let alone two, agreeing with him and defending him. Even with the disapproving look at his interruption, a part of him knew they agreed with him. It was safe. He was safe and fully protected, and he’d never felt like that outside of his nest.

Mrs. Kaur folded her hands so tight, her knuckles whitened. “I’d like to see this footage.”

Aziraphale’s brows lifted. “And I’d like to hear you tell the truth about the kerchief and everything else.”

Even as mad as he was, Crowley could still sympathise with the stress rolling off her scent. “I understand you want to protect him, even from himself, but ignoring and not disciplining this behaviour isn't doing him any favours. If he doesn't get the lessons he needs, he's going to end up hurting someone and I'm damn well not going to let that someone be my pup.”

Aziraphale was pretty sure Crowley would be embarrassed if he leaned down and kissed the top of his head or if he stroked his hair, so he managed not to do either of those. A little approving purr slipped into his growl, though. He had such a good omega, such a good partner.

It was the only sound for a few seconds while the headteacher thought. “Thank you for bringing your concerns to my attention, Mr. Crowley. I’ll need to speak with the other omega pups in the class, and we’ll make any necessary adjustments.”

That sounded like a cop out to him and Crowley pressed his lips together for a moment. “Alright, but make no mistake, I'll be back in without any scheduled appointment if this continues.” 

“And I suppose you’ll bring Aziraphale with you.”

“He hardly needs me here to be deserving of respect, Mrs. Kaur,” Aziraphale replied, firmly and politely drawing a line between himself and her. “I’m here only because Warlock requested it and because he was chased into my shop. Chased after asking to be let into a classroom to safely wait after school and being denied.”

“I won’t allow proven troublemakers into my room unsupervised,” Ms. Morris argued.

“Warlock hasn't caused a single problem in months, unless you've not been communicating with me. Continuing to label him a troublemaker is doing a disservice to all the progress he's made.” And Crowley jumped to interrupt when she clearly made to argue back. “And defending his fellow peers from a bully is not troublemaking. Someone's got to bloody stand up to them.” 

“We have a strict policy against violence, Mr. Crowley.”

“And that is something which has already been dealt with. Again, we’ll make any necessary adjustments to avoid future incidents on Monday.” Mrs. Kaur rose, clearly ready for the meeting to be over.

Crowley scowled at them both as he also stood. “Well, I hope the 'strict policy against violence' is administered equally among students regardless of their presentation and parents if this escalates.” 

“Of course,” she replied, though there was no real way to tell if she was agreeing to shoo him out faster or because she actually intended on following through.

Warlock wiggled off his seat and snatched up his bag, gleeful in a way he never was while in her dumb office. It was Friday, so he had the whole weekend ahead to be free from classes. They’d also found his scented gift, messed up or not, and there was a promise of something happening when Monday rolled around. The only thing he wasn’t sure about was if Crowley would be weird or if they could actually spend the whole weekend with Aziraphale. 

Said alpha pushed open the door, holding it open for the two omegas to step out first, and tried very hard not to glare at either woman. He wasn’t completely satisfied with how things had gone, but Crowley at least had an advantage he hadn’t had before. Whatever happened or didn’t happen Monday, there were concrete options going forward. That, at least, was satisfying.

Crowley still felt a bit jittery as they made their way through the mostly empty school halls. All the children had cleared out as fast as they could. He didn't believe for a second that Mrs. Kaur was going to do a damned thing about her son, nor that she hadn't been aware of his behaviour. That it was her son that was causing all the problems was just shit icing on the shit cake. He wrapped an arm around Warlock's shoulders despite a grunt of protest. “Doin' alright?” 

“Yeah. I didn’t know she was Jack’s mom, but I guess that’s why he never gets in trouble. And I told you Ms. Morris was the worst.” He fidgeted with his bag strap, looking up at Aziraphale. His tail was weirdly still and irritation was still pumping off his scent in waves, but Warlock wasn’t worried about that turning on him. “Are you- Are you gonna fix my kerchief?”

He looked down, stern expression melting into the softness Warlock was used to. “Of course, duck.”

“How about we throw it in the wash first to get those other scents out? That way it can be clean and fresh for Aziraphale to fix it.” 

“Of course. Those hooligans,” he huffed, reaching for Crowley’s free hand. “It’ll all be right as rain, Warlock.”

“Mmhmm, and-” Crowley looked around to make sure neither Mrs. Kaur nor Morris was nearby and listening, “I know you don't want to think about Monday, but if that Jackson gives you even a second of trouble or makes you uncomfortable in any way, I want you to call me and I'll be here, alright?” 

“I will. What about his stupid friends?”

“Them too! I don't tolerate that shit professionally, I'm sure as shit not going to force you to tolerate it here.” 

“Okay, cool.” And he would this time. He didn’t want to deal with them anymore, not if he didn’t have to.

“Also…” Crowley squeezed Aziraphale’s hand, so very glad to have had him there. “Aziraphale did some looking yesterday while I was at work and we've got something we want to run by you. Nothing bad, I just don't want to go into detail here.” 

Aziraphale lifted Crowley’s hand to his lips, understanding. He didn’t trust either of them himself. “I have a telephone number for you as well, pet. I’ll leave the calling up to you as well as the Digital Video Disc.”

“Digital… Like a DVD?” Warlock asked and Aziraphale’s sigh could barely be heard over Crowley’s cackling laughter.

Monday dawned with two important missions: if one single negative thing happened at school, Warlock was to call Crowley and the transfer process would begin, and Crowley had a meeting with a very wealthy omega who had a home for sale. 

He had Aziraphale in the passenger next to him when they dropped Warlock off that morning and, though his scent was tinged with nerves, he went with his back straight. Aziraphale rested a hand on Crowley’s thigh, the placement becoming a familiar one. “He’ll be alright.”

Crowley let out a breath and watched him up until he disappeared inside, his own nerves just as high. “I certainly hope so. We all know the next escalation is violence and I really don't want it to come to that.” 

“I know, Crowley. If he’s even mildly uncomfortable when he gets picked up,” Aziraphale wanted to be there for it but wouldn’t assume, “then I’m sure he’d welcome the transfer. He seemed open to it.”

“Honestly at this point I'd be surprised if he wanted to stay here.” 

“So would I. If you were the petty sort, you could transfer him and send the disc and a formal complaint to the proper place.”

Crowley smirked and covered the hand on his thigh. “What makes you think I'm not the petty sort?” 

Aziraphale chuckled. “I don’t believe I said you weren’t.”

“Well I'm going to wait and see how this blows over first. Part of me is worried the teachers might take it out on Warlock, wouldn't put it past 'em.” 

“Nor would I. Though he’s at such a good place in his life now that a fresh start with people who don’t know how he was after the accident wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

“No, it wouldn't.” He double checked that his mobile's volume was as loud as it would go, he wasn't about to let himself miss Warlock's potential call. “Well, there really isn't anything else we can do here for the time being.” 

“No. And Mrs. Gordon is hardly going to be remiss if you take a call from him during our meeting, but she would take offence to any lateness.”

“I think that's my 'get a move on, Crowley' signal,” he teased and reversed out of his parking space. “Definitely don't want to be late, however fashionably.” 

“Lise finds lateness quite unfashionable.” Aziraphale chuckled. “Though I hate to make her sound strict.”

“Too late for that.” 

“Really, Crowley, she isn’t. It’s a pet peeve she has, that’s all. She’s quite… ah… Well, she and Tracy get along famously.”

Crowley blinked. Tracy was quite the character on a good day so if the two of them got along… “Seems you collect the unique and quirky, angel.” 

“It would seem so, though I can’t quite fathom why that may be.”

The sideway glance Crowley gave him seemed to go unnoticed in Aziraphale's musing. “Like recognises like.” 

“Silly thing,” he chided lightly, puzzled but still amused when Crowley laughed.

The home was only twenty minutes away, tucked into Brompton Square and curved beautifully. Aziraphale smiled at the creamy, off-white facade, tail thumping the seat. He’d always enjoyed visiting the old home, an antique in its own right. “It’s lovely, isn’t it? All of the iron wrought balconies. They look so classic, but the glass pavilion in the back is terribly modern in comparison, and the gardens in the square here may be a bit narrow, but they’re still safe and spacious enough for pups to play.”

Crowley hummed his agreement, taking in the state of the other properties around it as he paralleled parked nearby. Everything looked to be, as he knew Aziraphale would say, in tip-top condition. At least from the outside. It was also close to Hyde park and the Natural History Museum. And, from the looks of things, the street here wasn't terribly busy since it didn't have an outlet. Safe. Nice. And costing more than he'd ever made in a whole year. “Mm- This is one of those narrow houses, ain't it?” 

“A bit, but it’s technically six floors. The basement was dug out a few years ago and split into two levels. There’s a large theatre on the lowest one. And a vault, of course.”

“Of course,” Crowley repeated faintly. A theatre? A vault? He suddenly felt underdressed in his black jeans, grey pullover, and thin jacket. “I know you told me the price tag before but it's only just now sinking in.” 

Aziraphale chuckled, far more at ease than the omega. “It’s roughly 600 square metres, I believe, and there’s a lift. Oh, and she allowed me to assist in decorating the study on the third floor. It was quite a bit of fun, so I’m hopeful you’ll be able to see it today. But I’ll insist on you seeing the conservatory, though don’t be distraught by the lack of plants. Lise wanted to turn it into a proper garden area, but once Eugene passed, she didn’t see much of a point.” He patted Crowley’s knee. “But don’t start fretting now.”

Crowley blinked a handful of times. “She let you decorate? You must be pretty good friends.” 

Aziraphale’s smile turned apologetic. He probably should've confessed this much sooner. “Oh, yes. One of my mothers and hers grew up together, so Lise and I did as well. We went to the same schools and such, and I believe there was a stretch of time wherein everyone assumed we would wed. Of course she was never quite the right type for me, and I was quick to introduce Eugene to her in university. They were engaged before I left.”

“Well I'm glad to hear that,” Crowley muttered. “I didn't realise you were, er, that well acquainted. I'm not gonna get the twenty-questions routine for dating a dear old friend now am I?” 

“You may, but mention Warlock and she’ll pester you about him instead. She adores pups.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” And though it was still a little intimidating to just walk up to such a fancy place, he squared his shoulders and opened the door to climb out. “Well, time's a wastin' and this house ain't gonna list itself.” 

“Believe me, Lise certainly wishes it would.” Aziraphale stepped out of the car and quickly crossed to Crowley, offering his arm with a smile. “Don’t fret, dearest. Really. She’ll adore you.”

He took Aziraphale’s arm easy, smiling at the way the wag of his tail sped up the second he'd done so. “How many times do I have to tell you that I don't fret?” 

“Until you stop fretting, silly thing.”

They crossed the street, one of the doors swinging open before they’d made it up the few steps. The dark-haired woman beamed, throwing her hands out to Aziraphale. “Aziraphale, darling! It’s been ages. Eons.”

“We spoke yesterday,” he reminded her, accepting the excited kisses to each cheek.

“But in person.”

“You’ve been at your country home.”

“Must you damage me with facts?” She sighed dramatically, then turned her attention on Crowley. He, too, received kisses to each cheek. “And you must be the fascinating Mr. Crowley. Charmed, darling, really. Truly. Indisputably. Now come inside before you catch your deaths.”

She was more of a whirlwind than Crowley expected and he'd hardly had a chance to get a single word out before the front door was clicking shut behind him. The entry was bright and white except for colourful lights along the right hand wall. Crowley immediately took stock of the crown moulding - from this distance it looked original - but tried not to get too caught up in cataloguing everything just yet. “It's, ah, good to meet you too, Mrs. Gordon. Aziraphale speaks very highly of you.” 

“Oh, ‘Mrs. Gordon.’ None of that now. It’s Lise.”

“Lise, then. And it's just Crowley if we're going informal.” 

“Life’s far too short for formality, darling.” She waved her hands, guiding them both towards the back of the wide open parlour. The furniture was an eclectic mix of modern and antique, most in faded blacks with a few bright pops of colour. “Liesel will bring tea and cakes out. Though coffee for you, isn’t it? Yes? What did Aziraphale say? With enough cream and sugar to kill a lesser man.”

Crowley’s cheeks turned pink, which only seemed to delight her. Now he knew why she got on so well with Tracy. Though his embarrassment didn't stop him from noting the lights above them were very modernly set into the ceiling and that the hardwood floors were obviously very well taken care of. “Apparently Aziraphale has also spoken about me quite a bit.” 

“Oh, you’re his favourite topic of conversation. Just goes on and on, and don’t you dare deny it,” she warned, wagging a finger at Aziraphale’s flushed face. She whirled onto a seat, perching as delicately and straight-backed as Aziraphale did. “The only thing he didn’t tell me was how young you are! A baby raising a baby.”

“He’s hardly a baby.”

“Yeah, that'd be real awkward wouldn't it?” 

She laughed, delighted, and waved her hands again as a young woman came around the corner, pushing a cart littered with enough food and drinks for eight people. “Leisel! Thank you, precious darling. Aziraphale, Crowley, one of my maids, Leisel.”

She curtsied neatly. “Hello,” she greeted, voice accented. 

“She's still learning English. A wonderful thing and so clever.” She turned and rattled off something in German that went right over Crowley’s head and the maid folded her hands, answering in kind. “She says your hair's a fascinating shade,” Lise told Crowley, patting his knee as if they were old friends. “And I must agree with her. It's natural?”

“Ah- Y-yes. Definitely natural. My mother was very Scottish, so I'm afraid she's to blame.” He was used to romantic partners making comments about his hair, clients too, so this wasn't nearly as embarrassing as how he took his coffee. 

“No, no. She's to thank, darling. It's gorgeous. Stunning, even. Vibrant. Vivacious.”

“Mine,” Aziraphale said lightly, lips curving when she swatted at his knee. 

“And you're welcome to him. I need his brain, not his body. Leisel, that's all, precious. Thank you. Danke schön.”

She curtsied again, disappearing as quickly and quietly as she'd arrived. 

“Now, Crowley, has he warned you about me? I'm going to be a terrible client for you. Wretched.”

He snorted at that, trying to fight back his blush. “You can't be any worse than the couple I've been trying to find a place for for the past two months. I think they've seen every available property in the London area at this rate.” 

“Oh, I'll probably meet every buyer. I'd like to be at every showing. I have to know the people who'll live here. My Genie and I had such wonderful plans. Such wonderful, grand plans and now it's a shell of its former self and a ghost of what was intended. I have to know they'll live up to my expectations.”

That was definitely a tall order. He understood now why she'd had such a time finding an agent, he couldn't imagine Hastur or Ligur having the patience for such a thing. “I'm sure there's someone out there who'll love this place just as much as you and your late husband.” 

“There will never be such a person, but I know what I'll settle for.” She poured a mug halfway with coffee and set it on the coffee table near Crowley. “Help yourself, darling. Aziraphale, eat. Have some tea. Your blood is made of tea, I know it is.”

“It may be,” he agreed, plucking a sausage roll off the tray. “But I'd be just fine with that.”

“Of course you would be.”

Crowley snickered as he poured milk and sugar out of silver dishes, wondering faintly if they would tarnish simply from his touch. “If so, it'd be really useful against vampires.” 

Aziraphale chuckled. “That's an angle for Warlock the next time he calls either of us old.”

“What? That we're vampires?” 

“Yes.”

Lise laughed, fixing her own tea with as much cream and sugar as Crowley. “What an exciting name. I thought it was a nickname when Aziraphale first told me about your pup.”

“No, no. That's the name his mother chose for him,” Crowley said with a shake of his head. “However unfortunate, he's stuck with it for now.” 

“Oh, I wouldn't call it unfortunate! It's unique! A gift from his mum.” She set her tea down without taking a sip, hands a flurry as she spoke. “How old is he? I have four of my own. Genie and I were wildly considering another, but life happens, I'm afraid, and the four we have kept us so very busy. They're with their grandparents now, and probably eating too many sweets if they're even awake.”

Crowley chuckled at that, imagining Warlock would be doing much of the same if he had a chance. “Well, Warlock turned 11 this past summer so he's in school right now. But it must be difficult for you to be away from yours like this.” 

“No, no. They're nearby. Just in Kensington. They're missing school for a couple of days.” She waved it away. “I have more trouble with my oldest. He's in his first year at uni, so I'm away from him so much. I miss him every day. Every minute. And my youngest just turned eight! He's a star, and they all miss you, Aziraphale. You should visit more.”

“You've been in the country,” he reminded her, “but if they're in town with you, I'll be happy to visit again.”

“Lovely. And you'll bring your handsome someone and his pup with you.”

“I surely hope he would, Warlock might get jealous if he smells other pups on his favourite alpha.” 

Aziraphale beamed, laying a hand on Crowley’s knee. “He knows I love him, though.”

Crowley covered his hand. He didn't care they had an audience of a stranger - well, a stranger for himself - he loved Aziraphale immensely. “After this week he'd better.”

Aziraphale purred softly, and Lise clapped her hands together. “Oh, this is sweet. Marvelous. Aziraphale, your mums would've loved him. I encourage you to keep him.”

“As long as he wants to be kept.”

He certainly did want to be kept, especially by this particular alpha. So long as Aziraphale wanted him, too. “I have no intentions of going away any time soon, angel.” 

“There we are then. You're perfect. You'll sell this place.” She popped up. “Come, come. I'll show you around. We'll start on the bottom floor.”

“The conservatory,” Aziraphale corrected, and she briskly changed directions.

“The conservatory,” she purred. “It's a beautiful spot. So much sun.”

Crowley laughed and followed her up with Aziraphale not far behind. “You mean when we actually get sun here in London.” 

She blew a raspberry. “The rain holds its own beauty. But it encourages sun.”

“Well I definitely prefer the sun, myself.” 

“Oh? Aziraphale only goes outside if he can romp on four legs or if someone pulls him out of his books.” She cheerfully linked arms with Crowley, breathed him in with a hum. “Caramel apples! How quaint.”

Her sudden closeness was a bit surprising and her scent was so much different from Aziraphale’s; something earthy with the sweet and vanilla. “I don't think I've ever been called quaint before.” 

She laughed. She always seemed to laugh like someone eager to fill the space with joy. “You have been now. You're welcome, darling. New experiences should be cherished.”

“You have a very positive outlook on things and are... not what I expected.” 

“You're too used to our favourite Victorian gentleman. Besides, positivity and pushing through things has kept me sane. I miss my Genie. I was... I was a terrible mess when he passed, and I still can be in the privacy of my nest. Especially since his scent is nearly gone completely.” She looked far away for a moment, lost in memories. “I will always love him, and I'll happily bear his mark the rest of my life. And, of course, I see him every day in our pups. Especially Genie Jr. He's thirteen, my little alpha. He looks just like his father.”

He could only imagine how difficult it must be, how painful, to sleep in a nest with a fading scent that would never again be refreshed. There was a short moment where all Crowley wanted was to run into Aziraphale’s arms, hide in his throat, and never let him go again. Crowley patted the hand on his arm instead. “It sounds to me like your pups are very lucky to still have you with them.” 

“They've got his parents too. They're the ones in Kensington, you see. We bought them a home for their anniversary one year, and I'm so happy to help them with anything they need. Genie may be gone, but they're still family.”

“Are they still planning on selling as well? To join you in the country home?” Aziraphale asked, sending Crowley a pleased smile. 

“Oh, yes! I'll give them your card, Crowley. We'll put them on the market together! Make a game of it.” She laughed, her short curls bouncing. “Theirs will sell first. They're not nearly as picky as I. You'll meet them when you bring your pup. And I'm offended, honestly, that you didn't bring him today.”

“He's on the reserved side, Lise, has school today, and it's important that Crowley meet you first.”

“Oh, you and your logic. Your biggest flaw, my love.”

“Now, I wouldn't say that,” Crowley interrupted. “Warlock needed to be in school today even if he would have preferred not to be. We're, ah, butting heads a bit with his teachers and today's a test to see if they do what I've asked them to.” 

“Oh, well, they'd better. I swear, Aziraphale knows everyone who's anyone.” 

“Perhaps, but Crowley has what he needs. And don't pester him about it, you nosy thing.”

“Yes, well, if they don't, Warlock has instructions to call me.” Crowley looked at Lise. “Aziraphale said you wouldn't mind if I had to take that call.” 

“Heavens, no! Our pups come first. So we shouldn't spend too long in the lowest level when we go because there's not a bar of reception.” 

They entered a space that was covered in glass, the shapes modern and geometric, all straight lines and tinted a faint green. 

Lise gestured with her free hand. “My conservatory, though I really must stop thinking of it as mine. Aziraphale tells me you've got quite the green thumb, though. You must tell me what you would do back here.”

Crowley hummed and glanced around. He could imagine the glass room stayed hot and balmy during the summer, though it wasn't nearly as cold as expected for the time of year. The concrete patio beyond felt a bit sad looking, but considering it was just above one of the lower levels… “Well, if it were up to me, I'd either set up this back area as a rock garden or set up rows of planter boxes with natural stone paths between. Maybe some ivy on the back wall there.” 

“Ah! And what would you put in those planter boxes?” she asked, pulling him forward. 

Aziraphale smiled as he watched them, listening with only half an ear as they went round about flowers and leafy plants, perennials and annuals and, “Darling, the floors are heated and it's insulated glass!” 

She was, in a way, the only family Aziraphale had left, though she certainly had her fair share: four pups, her in-laws, her own mother and several siblings besides. It was nice to see them getting along, to see how her bright charms swept Crowley up as readily as they did most people she came into contact with. It had been, he knew, Eugene's favourite thing about her. 

Though he personally wished she wasn't quite so impulsive. She pulled Crowley back, beaming. “Aziraphale! Buy him the house.”

“For Heaven's sake, Lise.”

“Now, now. He's got a beautiful eye. A real eye for space and gardening. He'd turn this place into Eden! How it deserves.”

Crowley flushed, head shaking. “I don't know about all that. This is a very expensive sort of place, and really all that was just some thoughts. Nothing terribly amazing I'm afraid.” 

“Amazing to me, darling, and anyone who knows a thing or two about plants. You should see the gardens in our country home! In the Spring, of course. You'll have to come. And your pup can run until all four legs give out! Aziraphale! Do you remember? It was so much fun when we were young. They wouldn't come to ours, of course. Aziraphale's was much more grand.”

“Hardly. We had a bit more acreage, but the homes were nearly identical.”

“Pish-posh, my love. It's the acreage that matters when one's a frolicking pup! And yours butted up against trees. Oh, Crowley, I can't tell you how many times we got lost.”

“Er…” Crowley was slowly feeling like he was in over his head. Lise was obviously loaded and, if she thought Aziraphale could afford this place and had a 'grand county home,' how loaded was Aziraphale? It made something uncomfortable squirm in his chest, all the dinners and lunches being paid for set in new light. He liked being treated but… Crowley pulled out his phone while the two reminisced, making note of the heated concrete as well as the other 'key features' he'd noticed on his own, snapping a few pictures to go through later and marking what room they were for. “Right, so, anything else back here a buyer might need to know about? Noise levels or other special renovations?” 

“Oh, yes, to business.” Lise laughed. “I really must have you over socially. We'll have much more fun. No noise level issues. The windows have been redone so they're all insulated properly. Seven bedrooms - though one is being used as a study - six bathrooms, the theatre, the vault, the lift... Oh, the kitchen is thoroughly modern. Really beautiful. I- Oh, Aziraphale, have you cooked for him?” 

He chuckled. “Several times now. More importantly, I've baked.”

“Lovely,” she gushed. “Will you bring those tarts I like next time you come? The lemon raspberry.” 

He sighed fondly. “Yes, Lise.” 

“Wonderful. Marvelous. Don't let him forget, Crowley. I'll weep with sorrow.”

“Now we can't have that.” He shared a small smile with Aziraphale and made his notes, trying not to go all bug-eyed at seven bedrooms. “And are there any problems with the property that you know of? This is just a standard question to cover my bases.” 

“Not a thing. It's an old home, you know. 18-something or other. My Genie was much better with numbers. He loved his history.” She pressed her hands to her heart, smile soft for a brief moment. “But we got all permits and such for the renovations. I have it all. And I have a copy of the layout to give you. Oh, where did I put it?” 

“Go fetch it, Lise. I'm going to show Crowley upstairs.”

“Alright. I'll meet you in two shakes. Just listen for the intercoms.” She scurried out, calling for someone named Jonathan, and Aziraphale shook his head. 

“She'll remember that Jonathan's at the country home soon,” Aziraphale mused, smiling to himself. She hadn't changed a whit. “Come. We'll take the lift, shall we?”

“Yeah, sure. Why not?” Of course there was a lift. And intercoms. “Angel, this place is bloody massive.” 

“I did tell you it was.” Aziraphale folded his hands, smile apologetic. “Though I could've warned you about her a bit more. She's... Well, even as pups, she could run me ragged.”

“Bet she ran poor Eugene ragged too,” Crowley muttered in a way that made Aziraphale’s cheeks pink. “But it's fine. I can definitely see how her and Tracy would get on like a house on fire.” 

“They certainly do.” Aziraphale guided him out of the conservatory to the lift. “We'll go to the third floor so you can see the study. It was an exciting project, really. Something for me to do after my mothers passed and their estate was handled, you see.”

“Right, yeah, that makes sense.” Now that they were alone, it seemed like a better time to bring up what was on his mind than in front of their host. “Say, you actually could afford this place, couldn't you?” 

Aziraphale looked at him, puzzled by the question. “Well, yes. I just wouldn't want a mortgage and I think it would take weeks to get the cash out. Daily limits and all.”

Cash. Crowley almost felt faint. “Ah. I mean, we don't really talk about financials, so… That's just- I guess that's… news. Good to know.” 

As they settled in the lift, Aziraphale laid a hand on his arm. “I... Well, I assumed you knew already. Between the shop being how it is and my books and such. And one of my mothers was a member of parliament. That's publicly available knowledge.”

“Parliament!? Jesus Christ, Aziraphale.” Should he have known that? Maybe he should have known that. “Guess that's what I get for not being creepy and foregoing Googling the guy I'm dating.” 

“I suppose. It was quite the sensation back in the day. Omega wives, one of whom being an established Soho presence and the other a member of Parliament. Not to mention parents who resolutely refused to admit who had carried me.”

“Well that definitely wasn't something in my history book in school.” 

“Goodness, I can't imagine that.” Aziraphale wrung his hands together, ears and tail twitching nervously. “It doesn't... This doesn't change how you feel- It doesn't change us, does it?”

“No! No, angel, of course not,” Crowley said without a second thought, reaching out to lightly touch his arm. “It just- I was just caught off guard. I knew you had more money than me, just not… quite how big that gap is.” 

“Oh. Well... As you said, it isn't something we discuss. And what you have or don't is- It's immaterial to how I feel about you, and I'm very proud of you. You provide for yourself and Warlock beautifully. Most of what I have is merely inheritance, so I don't feel as if that's nearly as impressive.”

“I mean, the number of zeros in your bank account is probably pretty bloody impressive.” 

“I did tell you I have more than I knew what to do with.”

“You did,” Crowley agreed. “Mores the fool me for not listening.” 

“Shame on you.” Aziraphale took his hand and lifted it to his lips. “But at least I know you won't take advantage. My very independent omega.”

“No, I won't. That I can promise you.” He didn't want someone to pay his way for him, that wasn't proving he could live and survive and thrive on his own merit. 

“Yes. I trust you, pet.” Aziraphale tucked an arm around his waist, smile wicked at the corners. “You're just in this for my knot.”

Crowley’s cheeks pinked, scent a sweet flair before he reigned it back in. “Oh, yes, you've caught me. Needed me a real alpha to satisfy what my toys can't.” 

“You’re welcome,” Aziraphale teased, kissing one of those blushing cheeks. “I love you. If you start feeling overwhelmed, you only have to tell me. You see how easy she is to distract.”

“Thank you, angel, but I think I'm alright. She is quite the character, though and I know you said your families thought you'd get together but I honestly can't see it.” 

“No, Eugene was much more like her. They would take trips so impulsively, jetsetting all over the world. I went on one or two occasions, but only when I was given enough notice. Or when Paris was a stop. It’s one of the few places I can’t resist.”

Crowley chuckled as the lift came to stop with an airy little chime. “Never been to Paris… or that far outside the UK really. Visited Dublin once as a pup with my parents but that's about it.” 

“Perhaps when the school year finishes, you’ll allow me to take you and Warlock somewhere. I think you would enjoy the vineyards in south France.”

“Mmm- That would be nice. Bet Warlock would be bored to death at the wine tastings though.” 

Aziraphale chuckled. “Unless he would be interested in a proper tour to see how the wine is made, yes. But there are festivals, you know. I was thinking more along the lines of us taking him to one of those.”

“Oohh, yeah. See, you got me distracted with vineyards and wine.” 

“Wine festivals, you silly thing. There are normally plenty of activities for families at them and I know one or two are hosted at vineyards.”

“Alright, alright, you've convinced me!” Crowley laughed as he pulled Aziraphale out of the lift and into a hall that was just as brightly lit as the entry. “Now show me this study you're so proud of.” 

Tail swishing cheerfully, Aziraphale wiggled his way down the hall with Crowley tucked in by his side and happily shared parts of his past that were, at least to Crowley, a complete mystery.

Chapter Text

The exploration of the home lasted through lunch, quickly turning into more of a social call than a business meeting. Still, Lise gave Crowley plenty of material and he was able to claim the hours for work. She also called her in-laws to get him those details, and she promised to have all the paperwork for that listing when they next visited so they had best visit soon, pip pip.

Aziraphale was exhausted by the time he finally settled in Crowley’s passenger seat, though it was more mental than physical. Lise had always been a bundle of energy, age and pups not slowing her down for even a moment. “I don’t know about you, pet, but I believe I’m ready to go have a lie down. Do you need to head into the office?”

Crowley felt just as tired, mostly from dodging Mrs. Gordon's continued attempts at trying to convince them both the house was just for them. It seemed once she got an idea in her head it was nigh impossible to dissuade her of it. “Nah, this property is all I had going today and I can start logging it in our system tomorrow along with the other one.” It would take most of the next day to go through and hand pick the photos he took anyway. “And I didn't want to be in the middle of something at the office if Warlock called.”

“Yes. Is it odd that I'm more nervous that we haven't heard from him?”

“Not odd at all, I'm worried too.” Crowley reached out and gave the hand in Aziraphale's lap a squeeze. “Do you want me to take you back to the bookshop, or…”

“Well… It’s never been just the two of us at your flat, has it?”

He opened his mouth as if to argue, then closed it on a hum. “No, no I suppose it hasn't. The trials of having a pup, though I meant more… We've spent quite a bit of time together this past week, so if you need a break or alone time I won't be upset.”

Aziraphale turned his hand up to clasp Crowley’s. “I don’t need a break from you, but you can drop me off at the bookshop if you need one from me.”

Crowley smiled at him a little crookedly. “I don't. Spending time with you is the easiest thing I've ever done.”

“Then take us wherever you’d like to go, my dear. I have full trust in you.”

That felt like such a big responsibility, having the full trust of his alpha to take them anywhere he wanted. “Then we'll go to my flat. Can have a nice kip in my comfortable bed before we pick Warlock up.”

“That’s more than acceptable.” Aziraphale squeezed his hand before letting him go so he could do whatever it was he did with gears. “The more time I spend in that comfortable bed, the more tempted I am to purchase a new mattress.”

Crowley laughed at him as he shifted out of neutral, just happy with how easy it was to continue being together. “You could afford it. Supposed to replace them every decade or so anyway, but I think I already told you that.”

“You did, yes, and I haven’t forgotten.” Aziraphale looked at the rearview mirror, watching the home slowly disappear from view. He had always loved it, but he just couldn’t imagine all of that space for just himself. And with Crowley seeming so uncomfortable with the idea… Was he against the idea of them living together entirely or just that home in particular? And if they were going to move in together, why would he need a new mattress? Unless Crowley would want something new? There were too many questions, too many things he was afraid to ask. It was too fast. “It just isn’t something I think about.”

Heedless of his alpha's worries, Crowley rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Of course you don't. Alphas aren't as attached to your nest as omegas are; at least none I've known have been. And I'm not tryin' to make you change, you can share my bed anytime.”

“No, I understand. It isn’t a place I feel the need to flee to for comfort like most omegas I’ve known. Though I do- I have enjoyed it more with you spreading your scent across my pillows and such when you can.”

“Have you, now?” Crowley teased, lips curving in his flirtatious way. “Would you rather go to the bookshop so I can do so again?”

“Now you’ve already enticed me with the promise of your comfortable bed. You can’t go about changing your mind now.”

“Alright! Alright! You’ll just have to drag me to your nest another day.”

“You’ll spend a week there soon enough, unless you’ve changed your mind about being with me through rut.”

“I've definitely not changed my mind,” Crowley assured him. “Believe me, I'd tell you if I had. How much longer till it starts?”

“I should be alright until after Warlock’s Autumn break, so we’ll be able to have our trip to the coast in peace.”

“Fantastic,” Crowley all but purred, practically squirming in his seat at the thought until another one made itself known. “Oh, my heat's going to be around that time too. What a coincidence.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened a fraction. Cycles did tend to sync when couples were together long enough, particularly if an omega stopped their suppressants at a certain time. But this was... To already be synced was rare. “Is that a fact?”

“Yeah. It used to be more in the winter but after my time stuck as a wolf it changed and never went back.”

“A winter cycle... An... interesting way to start the year.”

“Happy new year!” Crowley sang, but quickly dissolved into snickers. “Not that I'd, snk, mind spending the new year laid up in bed with you.”

“Nor I, you. Did you take Warlock out to see the fireworks last year?”

“Oh! We actually went up to the roof of the flat building. Great view of the whole show from there and I didn't have to pay for parking or walk in the freezing cold.”

Aziraphale laughed. “So very clever. I do the same. Usually with a spiked cocoa in hand.”

“Ooohh, spiked cocoa, how very naughty of you, angel.”

His brow lifted, all haughtiness. “It's no different from toasting with champagne, I should think.”

Crowley shook with barely contained giggles, one hand left the gearshift to cover his mouth. “No- No, snk- Champagne's like- It's for celebrating. Cocoa is- It's like if you wanna get hammered but-but don't want anyone to know.”

The utter terror. “If I didn't want anyone to know, I wouldn't have told you.”

“Yeah, but I'm not just anybody.” Crowley grinned. “What do you spike it with anyway? Surely not bourbon.”

“Of course bourbon.” Aziraphale slanted him an amused look. “You don't think chocolate and bourbon go well together?”

“Of course I think they go well together, but that doesn't mean you do.”

He chuckled. “I breathe it in every day of my life and have for nearly forty years. If I didn't appreciate the combination, I'd be mad by now.”

“That's true enough. You’ll have to share some with me so I can decide if the scent or the taste is better.” And Crowley smiled at the way Aziraphale’s tail wagged harder when his flat building came into view.

He didn't try to control it, not when Crowley seemed pleased with his joy. “You have tasted it,” he reminded him, gesturing to his scent gland with amusement. “But I'll be happy to make you some. Whenever you like.”

“You know that's not the same,” Crowley countered, pulling into his designated parking space. “But I'd be happy to have some spiked cocoa with you.”

“Good.”

They both exited the Bentley, though Aziraphale was happy to cross it and offer his arm, tail wagging when Crowley held on. “My lovely mate,” he purred, smiling at him.

“Oi, stop making me blush already,” Crowley muttered at him, cheeks warming again. “Gonna make my face get stuck like this.”

“As pretty as it is, that would be terrible. I like watching it happen.”

Crowley stuck his tongue out at him, but grinned at the way Aziraphale rolled his eyes when he swiped his keycard and held the door open for him. “So that's why you do it so much.”

“That and it's very easy.”

“Keep doing it and maybe I'll build up a resistance.”

“Then I'll just have to get more creative.” Aziraphale took his hand when they reached the lift and pulled Crowley in, nuzzling his cheek. “Pretty thing.”

He let himself be pulled in, nuzzled, with lips that brushed his cheek. Crowley curled his fingers in the fabric of Aziraphale's coat and chuckled softly. “You're being very affectionate right now.”

“Lise teases as much as Tracy. I've been behaving myself all morning to prevent that and to allow you to be professional, so I think I deserve to be affectionate.”

“That wasn't a complaint.” And he had been very good, even despite her very pointed insinuations when she'd found them in the study.

“I know. You'd be asking me to stop, not holding on.”

“Got that right.” Crowley's smile only grew when Aziraphale’s tail thumped against the lift wall. “And I like it when you're happy like this, it's like you feel it with your whole self.”

“Yes, well, I've never learned to properly control the tail,” he admitted, the appendage whipping faster when Crowley’s laugh filled the lift. “I'm happier with you than... than with anyone else I could think of.”

“I would certainly hope so.” Crowley twined their fingers together when the lift dinged and opened. He knew his flat wasn't technically Aziraphale’s home but it still felt so domestic to walk down the hall, hand in hand, with him. It felt right and he found himself wishing that every day, every week, was like this. Dropping their pup off and coming home together, making meals together. He never wanted it to end and barely gave a second thought to swooping down to kiss Aziraphale right in front of his own door, tasting the surprise then the utter delight right from his lips.

Crowley really was sweeter than his own scent. Aziraphale slid his hands into his hair as their tongues tangled, scritching his scalp in the way he'd discovered encouraged his ears to appear. His laughter spilled into the kiss when they filled his hands, the fur so soft against his fingers. “My beautiful omega. I don't think I could possibly love you more.”

“No? Not even a little bit?”

Aziraphale laughed again. “I suppose that will depend on you.”

“Hmm, I guess I'll just have to keep being more lovable.” They shared another laugh, soft and breathy and intimate. Something just for them that led to more exchanges of kisses, more of Aziraphale carding fingers through his hair and petting his ears. “Did you, mm, did you know, that first date, I kept thinking of bringing you back here? Just like this.”

“I hope we weren't kissing outside your door the whole time in those imaginings.”

“Definitely not,” Crowley said with a snicker. “There was kissing inside too.”

“Then unlock the door, so I can kiss you inside. Unless, of course, you’re waiting for a neighbour to come out and see you snogging with an alpha.”

Crowley kissed him one more time, tail whipping side to side. Though getting out his key and unlocking the door was made more difficult by an amorous alpha stepping in close and nuzzling at his cheek. It did, however, make it very easy to yank Aziraphale inside the second the door was open and crowd him against the nearest wall. “And you say I'm a terror.”

“Because you are. Constantly.” Aziraphale kissed him soundly. “Would you let me tie you up? Turn you into an even more lovely picture than you already are.”

“Fffuck, yeah,” Crowley groaned, pressing his forehead to Aziraphale’s. “You were so good at it last time.”

“Thank you, pet. I'd like to tie you up, position you how I want to, and then have my way with you.” Aziraphale cupped his hips, though one hand was quick to drift back to his tail. “And then, whilst you're trapped on my knot, I'll untie you.”

Crowley whined, his tail forced to be mostly still for Aziraphale to card his fingers through the fur but it didn't stop the end from twitching. “Christ, that's hot. You can do whatever you want to me.”

“I'm going to. I want you to howl. Make all the sounds you couldn't last time.” Aziraphale may have been the one caged in, but it was easy to step forward. Taking advantage of the way it unbalanced Crowley, Aziraphale scooped him up. “Maybe we'll get a complaint from a neighbour or two.”

Leaving the floor with so little warning made his heart race. He really did forget most times that Aziraphale was strong under his soft, fluffy exterior. Crowley laughed, breathless, into his hair. “Gonna get me a strongly worded note from the super to keep the noise down.”

“Perhaps, but you don't have to worry about that. You don't have to worry about a single thing.” Aziraphale purred as he walked through a flat that was starting to become familiar to him. “You can just put yourself in your alpha's hands for a little while, Crowley.”

“Very safe hands those are.”

Aziraphale kissed his neck. “The safest, as far as you're concerned.”

Crowley purred, tail swishing and beating at Aziraphale's arm even when they passed through his open bedroom door. Crowley knew he should have gotten in the habit of keeping it closed when he left, but he was still working on that. “Do you have any idea how sexy it is that you can just carry me around like this?”

Aziraphale chuckled. “I can certainly smell how sexy you think it is.”

Of course he could. Sweet and cloying and more caramel than apple. Crowley’s cheeks turned pink, there wasn't any hiding how being lifted by his alpha pinged very old instincts. Being very unceremoniously dropped right into his nest only made it better, this was where his alpha wanted him. “My scent does give it away.”

“I hope mine gives me away just as well.” Aziraphale leaned down, kissing each of Crowley’s ears. “The key for your drawer?”

“It does, the chocolate comes out more, gets darker.” He fiddled with the keyring just long enough to produce the little key and hand it off. “Like it is now.”

Purring, Aziraphale kissed his brow before leaning back to retrieve the nylon rope. He was tempted to use the silk, but he wanted Crowley to feel the bindings digging in and the silk was best for much softer play. It was set on the bed next to Crowley, Aziraphale's lips curved and his scent ripe with arousal. “I'm going to undress you now.”

His purr and being here with their tangled scents made something warm unfurl in Crowley’s chest. He nodded and breathed a sigh at the first touch of Aziraphale's hands pushing his jacket from his shoulders and brushing down his arms. He was safe here in their nest. “Alpha…”

“Omega,” he murmured, attention shifting from jacket to shirt. As skin was slowly revealed, he couldn't help but stroke his fingers over it. “You're so beautiful,” he praised, feeling Crowley tremble under his touch. With jacket and shirt discarded, he reached up for the sunglasses. “May I?”

Crowley nodded with a huff of a laugh, lips curving when they were carefully lifted away. Aziraphale was a bright spot in his dark room, all creams and tans on a backdrop of grey and black. His tail thumped when Aziraphale gently folded the arms and set them on the bedside table. Always so delicate with his things. “I've let you take them off plenty, now. Yet you still ask.”

“I've been inside you several times, and I still ask for that as well.” Aziraphale kissed his brow. “I like when you say yes to me. I like knowing you want and that you trust me to give.”

“What I want is you and everything you're willing to give me.” Somehow saying things like that felt so much more vulnerable with his glasses off. There wasn't anywhere to hide with the armour gone.

“Everything, Crowley. You can have everything,” he promised and guided Crowley onto his back. He undid his belt, button opening and zip lowering next. “Hips, please. These things are difficult enough to get off of you.”

Crowley laughed and lifted his hips, back arching in the process. A smirk replaced the laugh at the way Aziraphale’s eyes clearly travelled the length of him while his trousers were wriggled down with some difficulty. “Much harder to get them off when you're not paying attention, angel.”

“How can I possibly be expected to mind denims when you're being revealed?” Aziraphale huffed, smiling as he leaned down to kiss a thigh. “Your very existence is a constant distraction.”

“You keep saying that and I'm gonna start worrying your agent's going to be out for my blood.”

“You hardly have to worry about that. You don’t distract from that work being that your likeness gets to be part of the focus.” Sharpened fangs dragged along Crowley’s thigh, the heady scent of omega - his omega - too close and strong for his teeth to behave. “And should anyone hurt you, I believe they’ll feel regret over it very quickly.”

“I believe that,” Crowley gasped, pinpricks sharp and dangerous and nowhere near where he actually wanted them. The permission was so easily given, it was slipping off his tongue before he could think about it. “You can. You can, I know you want to. I want-”

Aziraphale’s fangs sank in without further prompting, growling in something very close to triumph. It wasn’t where he wanted to Mark him, but it would do.

It wasn't where Crowley wanted it either, not where he'd intended to ask for, and he had to bite his lip to keep from begging for another somewhere higher. The sting of it good enough to make his toes curl and muscle jump under Aziraphale’s growl. Instincts wanted those fangs in his throat, holding him down while he was taken and mated, and Crowley whined against them.

Aziraphale withdrew his fangs carefully, tongue smoothing over the bite. “My omega,” he rumbled, lips and tongue and teeth working their way up his thigh to nuzzle against the strain in his pants. “You smell so sweet.”

“Course I do,” Crowley whispered. His thigh ached and he wanted to push at it just as much as he wanted to arch up against the lips that trailed over his clothed erection. “All omegas smell sweet.”

“Don’t be pedantic, beloved.” Aziraphale pushed up, admiring the bitemark he’d left as much as he did the stretch of Crowley’s pants and the pretty flush that seemed to grow beyond his cheeks and seep down to his chest. He didn’t even have to tell him to lift his hips when his fingers curled into the waistband to draw his pants down, tossing them aside. “I’m likely to bite you again, if I may.”

Crowley nodded sharply and had to reign in his own enthusiasm before he said something stupid. “I'd be very disappointed if you didn't.”

“Good.” Aziraphale picked him up again, setting him higher up on the bed. He angled Crowley’s legs how he wanted them, spread with knees bent, then he sat between them and watched slick drip onto his russet tail. Smiling, Aziraphale unbuttoned his cuffs and began to roll up his sleeves. “I think I’ll enjoy seeing my marks between the lines of rope.”

“Maybe they'll even stay for a little while,” Crowley murmured, watching intently while Aziraphale’s forearms were bared. His tail made excited little pats with each roll of his sleeves, keenly aware of their differences in amount of dress. “Fuck, you're gorgeous. Why am I getting even more turned on by bloody sleeves.”

“Because you’re a peculiar, wonderful creature who loves me nearly as much as I do you.”

“Are you saying you love me more than I love you, angel?”

He couldn’t imagine them being equal, but could at least acknowledge that it was likely his own insecurities talking. “If you try to say otherwise, we’re just going to bicker about it. So let me have my way.”

Crowley laughed and nudged Aziraphale with his foot. “Fine. We'll bicker about it when I'm on your knot. Which, if you don't get on, will be a matter I take into my own hands.”

“You won’t be able to when I bind them,” he replied lightly, picking up one of the ropes. “But I’ll start with your legs.”

“Gotta keep me from running off, I see.”

“Mmhm.” Though they both knew any requests to stop would be heeded. He looped the rope around his ankle for a single-column tie, then into his inner thigh and around. He pressed Crowley’s ankle closer to his thigh. “Will you be able to hold this comfortably for a bit or do you need more space?”

Crowley wriggled in place, he wouldn't be able to move his legs much tied like that. He could imagine it would get extremely uncomfortable if left for too long but… “Y-yeah, I'll be fine. You're lucky I'm so flexible, angel.”

“I’m lucky you’re a lot of things, pet.” He wrapped the rope around his leg, looping it up his leg in evenly spaced sections and checking with him periodically to ensure the tightness was good and murmuring praise to keep that sweet scent heady and wanting as much as because he just couldn’t help himself.

Crowley had no problem with the seemingly endless stream of love and attention. It was better than the methodical quiet of the only other person he'd done this with. And he hated comparing them because there was no comparison, just stark contrasts of how Aziraphale was softer, gentler, actually loving. It made him want to bloody pounce on him just as much as it made his eyes water, especially when he treated tying the second leg just as reverently as the first.

Aziraphale purred softly, leaning down to kiss each knee. “You don’t just smell sweet, you know. You’re beautiful, pet.” He reached up to cup his cheek, gently thumbing away his tears. “There’s no one else I want to have like this. Now don’t settle your weight on your legs, lest the knots dig in.” He gently guided him up so he was kneeling, kissing his cheek before picking up another rope. “I don’t want to tie your hands behind your back because I want to see your face as I take you, so I’m going to tie a harness around you and tie your wrists together so your hands will stay over your head. Acceptable?”

“Mmhmm. Yeah, that's fine.” He had to clear his throat, a little embarrassed over the tear that had leaked out without his permission. “You're very thorough in this.”

“You don’t deserve less than my best, Crowley. Especially since you’re allowing so much.” He wound as he spoke, creating diamond patterns up Crowley’s chest. Knowing he was going to be on his back, he kept that as free of knots as possible to avoid any discomfort. It took longer than it should’ve only because having Crowley’s lips right there for the tasting was a temptation not easily avoided.

Not that Crowley was making it very easy to resist, swaying in and giving Aziraphale perfect chances to meet him halfway. Every knot was a test of Aziraphale's resolve that was very easily broken. “Gonna take all day like this, angel,” Crowley teased, kissing the corner of his mouth and grinning at the huff he received.

Aziraphale arched a brow and grabbed Crowley’s hands, pressing the heels of his palms together. “I could always gag you.”

“You like hearing the noises I make.”

“I love them,” he corrected, looping a fresh rope around Crowley’s wrists and knotting them neatly. “Good?”

Crowley wriggled his hands and nodded when they didn't move but also didn't dig too tightly into his wrists. “Yes, you've done very good, alpha.” He then swooped in, grabbing Aziraphale’s shirt, and kissed him firmly.

Aziraphale grasped the ropes around his hips and guided him onto his back, eagerly returning the kiss all the while. His tail swished and flicked behind him with an eager delight as he ground down, held between legs kept apart by soft ropes. He'd pleased his omega and wanted to keep doing so.

Getting Aziraphale to push him into his nest like this had been exactly what he'd hoped for. Pinned beneath his warm, soft bulk it was difficult to make much headway on getting beneath his shirt and Crowley had only gotten two buttons before his tied together wrists were grabbed and moved above his head. “Angel,” Crowley groaned at him, “you're very overdressed.”

Aziraphale let his lips roam over Crowley’s face, avoiding his throat simply because he didn’t trust his teeth. “And I’ll take care of that soon. I’m not finished focusing on you.”

Crowley huffed and arched up, feeling every length of rope that dug into his chest and the soft fabric of Aziraphale's shirt in the spaces between them. “Tease.”

“If I were a tease, I’d leave you like this. Make you watch me pleasure myself to you and keep you waiting and wanting.”

“Angel!” Crowley gasped at him, torn somewhere between interested and affronted.

Aziraphale chuckled as he pushed himself up and off the bed entirely. “I’ll let you stew on that idea a bit and perhaps we’ll try it one day.”

“As if you could resist me that long,” he muttered, immediately missing Aziraphale’s weight but there was something about watching him go to the dresser to remove his shirt button by button. Here he was, laid up in his nest, naked as the day he was born, all tied up, and frustratingly hard while the only thing giving away Aziraphale’s arousal was his scent and the obscene tenting of his trousers. It was entirely unfair in the sexiest way. “You'd want to get your knot in me before you were done.”

“Without any doubt, and I would. You take such little preparation, after all.” Aziraphale folded his waistcoat and shirt, his bow tie laid on the bedside table. He kept himself in Crowley’s view, his pretty eyes molten with want and impossible not to admire. But before he undid his trousers, he stepped forward and knelt between his legs again. He wanted to touch his skin, fascinated by the way it crested around the edges of each line of rope. His tongue traced around the diamond-shape surrounding a nipple, purrs a little closer to a growl than normal. Possession lived in the sound, tucked in with a needy sort of desire.

There was no way Crowley could resist pushing up into his mouth, skin and ropes dampened. His bindings kept them partially separated in a way that was equally frustrating and enticing. “Alpha…” The whine a sound of submission and instinct to match his mate's possessive growls.

“Good,” he growled. “My good omega.” He lapped teasingly at a nipple, but quickly abandoned it to teasingly flick over the other just to hear Crowley’s little gasps. He loved every sound, wanted to elicit as many as he could. Crowley deserved a chance to make as many as he could, to be as desperate for touch and to receive it.

Aziraphale continued to press lips to skin and tease with sharp fangs. He sank them in when the temptation became too great, ears perked for every single wail and whine and purred moan. Every single “Angel” or “Aziraphale” or garbled word. He wanted all of it, wanted to hear every way he pleased his omega so he could do it again and again and again.

Before he surfaced, Crowley’s tail was wet, his belly puddled with pre, and his thighs a litany of bite marks. Aziraphale growled as he hovered over him, low and so ready to sink into him. “Look at you. My gorgeous omega.”

Crowley knew he was a shaky, shivering mess at this point. Overheated and desperate for his alpha, chin lifted in silent invitation that had thus far gone ignored in the way he wanted. Every throbbing bite only served to make the lack of one on his throat more pronounced. “Alpha, pleassse.” Part of him was asking, the other more logical part knew he couldn't ask for the mark he so desperately wanted.

Aziraphale squeezed his knee, getting out of bed yet again, but he wasn't nearly as careful with his trousers as he'd been with his shirt. He was as desperate as Crowley, but he knew better. He couldn't give him a Mark without being asked beforehand. It was too serious and he didn't want Crowley to regret it. The litany of other marks made him feel a little better, though. No one would see them, but he and Crowley knew they were there. It was satisfying enough.

Getting back into bed, Aziraphale hiked Crowley’s hips up and pushed a pillow beneath the small of his back to keep him elevated and comfortable, growling purrs spilling out as he lined himself up and stretched Crowley open with his cockhead. He was so wet and eager, his body opened beautifully for him. “Crowley,” he groaned. “My omega. Mine.”

“Yours,” Crowley agreed with a punched out gasp. With how he was tied, he couldn't bear down on Aziraphale and take him in any faster. He just had to lay here and take exactly what Aziraphale wanted to give him. Which seemed to be a slow and steady filling, the tease of his cockhead making way for the stretch of his length. The burn of it just enough to make Crowley writhe until a hand gripped his hip to keep him in place. “Hnng- Angel, please. I want- I want-”

Aziraphale shushed him gently, leaning down to press soothing kisses along his jaw. “Just feel, Crowley. Every little ache, every bit of stretch. I'll take care of you.”

“All I can feel iss you.” Aziraphale all around him, the soft press of his lips and the firm grip of his hand, the weight that pinned him down and the stretch that was almost agonising in how much he wanted more of it. “Fffuck, angel.”

Aziraphale smiled, pressing his knot against Crowley’s rim and rutting it teasingly. Neither of them were going to last much longer, not with Crowley as worked up as he was. His hands stroked down his legs, pressing into the marks along his thighs and feeling his muscles flex. “I will in a moment.”

Crowley laughed, though it was more of a wheeze really, with the sharp reminder of the bites along his legs. Pretty little pictures framed in light grey rope. “Bassstard.”

Aziraphale kissed him, fingers curling into the handles he'd tied around each hip. “One you happen to be in love with.”

“Yes. I am. And if you don- Ah!” Aziraphale didn't give him a chance to finish his complaint, drawing out only half way and pushing back in rough enough that Crowley would have been pushed up the bed had Aziraphale not had a hold on the ropes. Crowley hissed from the burn of it, back arching as well as it could in his bonds while Aziraphale continued to fill him exactly the way he wanted.

“Good boy,” Aziraphale growled, holding the handles tight as he continued each short, hard thrust. He could feel Crowley’s tail flicking and curling against his skin, could hear his whines growing in volume. Golden eyes squeezed shut, that long column of throat bared when his head fell back. Aziraphale wanted desperately to see a Mark there, a permanent one. He wanted to bind them together, but he needed Crowley to be ready for that too. So when he tipped forward, fangs instead sank into his shoulder.

Crowley yelped, those teeth so very close to where he actually wanted them and close enough to the place a Mark was supposed to go that it set off the pleasurable nerves there anyway. Untouched and howling, Crowley painted both their stomachs in his spend and brought his hands down around Aziraphale’s neck to keep his alpha right there.

Aziraphale growled into his shoulder, hiking Crowley’s hips up higher as he continued to thrust into him. His fangs slipped from his shoulder just as his knot finally pressed into Crowley, his own howling release impossible to keep at bay for another moment.

It was a burning stretch immediately followed by a flood of warmth and pleasure that made his toes curl and body shudder. Crowley pulled Aziraphale down right onto him, the little grunted growl he got and the sting in his shoulder ignored so he could purr for him. “Alpha. My alpha.”

“Your alpha,” Aziraphale managed, hands leaving the harness handles to slip behind him and splay against his back. “My sweet omega.”

Crowley hummed and purred, nuzzling at his temple while their hearts slowed to a more regular rhythm. He knew his shoulder and legs were going to be sore as anything later but right now all he wanted was to hold Aziraphale and be held in return. “I love you.”

“I love you too, pet.” It was a relief to have been able to bite. Even if not into his throat, at least he hadn't had to lock his jaw. “You're going to get several noise complaints, I believe.”

“I'll forward them all to you.”

“I'll store them alongside those lovely masturbation photographs you sent me.”

“Naughty, angel,” Crowley teased. “I bet you look at them when I'm not there, don't you?”

Aziraphale’s tail swished, slow and satisfied. “On occasion. I should've taken one of you tied up. You're stunning.”

“I'm still tied up.” And just to remind him, Crowley pressed the nylon diamonds on a leg to Aziraphale’s side. “Though, not freshly.”

“Yes, but I did tell you I'd untie you while we were like this. I wouldn't want those lovely legs of yours to get sore.”

“Too late for that, my jeans are gonna be torture to walk in with all those bites.”

Aziraphale’s ears twitched. “Too many?”

“Absolutely not,” Crowley said with a little bit of a rare growl in his voice. “Don't you dare think that for even a second.”

His ears shifted forward, Aziraphale shifting to rub their noses together. “Oh, I adore that. The support, yes, but specifically the growl.”

Crowley blinked at him and the delighted little smile on his face. “Er, you do?”

“Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?”

“Dunno. Suppose with how you are and with how I am it makes sense you wouldn't mind. Just, knee-jerk reaction I guess.”

Aziraphale smiled, unable to resist kissing him. “I understand. But I like it. It certainly tells me when you don't like something, doesn't it?”

“Yeah I guess it does,” Crowley said with a soft laugh. “Not that I usually let things I don't like happen without comment.”

“You're rather vocal about what you do like as well.”

“Very easy to be vocal when you're so good at giving me what I like.”

Aziraphale smiled. “You did seem to thoroughly enjoy yourself.”

“Mmhmm.” Crowley tipped his head to brush their lips together. “What about you? Want you to enjoy yourself too.”

“I enjoyed every single second, pet. Tying you was a relaxing pleasure and then the rest was just... Well. Not relaxing.”

“No, definitely not relaxing. You were quite rigid.”

Aziraphale tried not to laugh too hard, wary of jostling him too much. “Which should give you some sort or an indication of how much I enjoyed it.”

“Yeah, well, still gotta check.” He leaned back, relaxed in his nest with the one person he wanted to share it with. “So much for that kip you wanted.”

“I'm sure we can still manage. Somehow.” Aziraphale kissed the tip of his nose. “I simply need to ensure you're untied and comfortable and tucked in close.”

Crowley nudged him with a foot, toes wiggling to keep them from falling asleep. “It would be nice to stretch my legs again.”

“I'm sure it would.” Aziraphale kissed him, hands drifting down to begin undoing knots. “If you allow it, I'll photograph you next time so you can see yourself like this.”

“I'm sure I look pretty enough to eat.”

“If I'd done your legs differently, I would have flipped you over and enjoyed quite the meal,” he teased, gently stroking over the patterns left in his skin as the ropes fell away. He couldn't see them yet, but he was sure they were pink from how Crowley had flexed against his bindings. “There we are. One free.”

Crowley stretched the one leg with a groan and a hiss, the knee complaining after being held in the same position so long. “Fuck, I'm too young for my joints to feel like this.”

Aziraphale laughed softly, carefully unwinding the other leg. “Thirty looms, dearest.”

“I'm not yet thirty!” Crowley announced, then stretched the other leg with just as much groaning. “I still have time, damn it.”

“Mmhm.” Purring, Aziraphale nuzzled him and began untying the harness around his chest. He had to lift up a bit to get the ropes away, purrs growing at the pink rope patterns. “You still look good enough to eat. Even aged as you are.”

“Oh, shut it.” But his grumbles had no heat behind them, not while Aziraphale was looking at him like he was something precious and beautiful.

Aziraphale smiled as he leaned down, kissing his cheek. “Hands, please.”

Crowley brought his hands down, still so very impressed with Aziraphale’s deft fingers. And the second they were free his fingers dove into Aziraphale’s soft curls, scratching just behind his floppy ears. “There, that's better.”

Purring, Aziraphale settled atop him, nuzzling into his neck. “It is, yes. I enjoy lying on you like this.”

“I like it, too. The weight feels good. Grounding. Safe.”

Tail swishing, Aziraphale sighed happily. He made his omega feel safe. “I'm glad. All I want is to keep you protected.”

“And you do, angel,” Crowley murmured against his temple, fingers petting through the hair he hadn't been able to touch while his hands were bound. “Even when you're all bitey and growly.”

“Mm.” Aziraphale let his eyes close, breathing in the sweet scent of his omega and comfortably lulled by the gentle touch. “I appreciate you letting me bite you. It helped.”

“Yeah?” At Aziraphale's nod Crowley kissed his temple. “Good. I understand it can be pretty difficult to resist, instincts and all, and I like the marks.”

“I've never had difficulty resisting until you. But I've never felt so comfortable calling someone mine or telling them I loved them either.” Aziraphale kissed his neck just above his scent gland. “You stir instincts which have never been touched, Crowley.”

“I must be pretty impressive, then.”

“Endlessly so,” Aziraphale murmured, feeling his knot beginning to lessen. “Would you like a shower before that kip?”

“I would love a shower,” Crowley said with a small groan at the lessening pressure. “I'm sure my hair looks a riot right now.”

Aziraphale could've reassured him that he was beautiful and, really, he was. But he smiled. “You look as if you've been in quite the row,” he teased.

“I bet. Some bastard alpha took a chunk out of my shoulder.” Crowley rolled said shoulder, feeling the sharp reminder of those fangs when he did so. “Mm. That's gonna be tight later.”

“I'd make a crass joke about something else being tight, but I'll refrain.”

Crowley laughed, his grin mischievous at the corners. “Now, angel, I thought the lack of tightness was the point.”

A brow arched. “You aren't the one who feels you squeeze.” Then, with a gasp, he swatted lightly at Crowley’s waist. “Yes, like that. You devil.”

His cackles bounced around the room. “Well, you can thank all the kegel exercises I do for that tightness you like so much.”

“You're a wicked blessing, pet.” Aziraphale lifted up to brush their noses together. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He let out an uncomfortable groan when Aziraphale’s knot lessened enough to pull out and shifted his lower half now that he could. “Might have to carry me to the shower, dunno if my legs work just yet.”

“As if I need any sort of excuse to carry you.” Aziraphale rolled off of him and rose, stretching himself before looking back. His cheeks coloured at the way Crowley’s gaze roved over him, but he shamelessly looked his omega over in turn. Every criss-crossing line made by the ropes, every mark made by his teeth. “Stay. I'm going to run you a bath instead.”

“Gonna spoil me at this rate,” he said to Aziraphale’s retreating back, watching his plump arse and wanting to sink his teeth in. Crowley stretched until his back popped, feeling every single bite and hoping they left little scars behind. The red marks left by the ropes would fade with time, but he at least wanted something permanent if he couldn't have the real deal Mark.

“Spoiling you,” Aziraphale called back as he disappeared into the bathroom, “is entirely the point.”

Crowley laughed and the sound of running water had his ears perking. Well, Aziraphale might have told him to stay but that didn't mean he had to. Crowley sat up with a wince and staggered carefully to his feet. Having to use the bed for support he stumbled to the bathroom and leaned heavily against the doorway. Steam was already curling out of the tub and Aziraphale looked so distinctive and soft against so much black marble. All curves and pale skin and fluffy hair.

He didn't have to turn to know Crowley was there, his tail swishing. “You're a terrible listener, pet.”

“That's what all my teachers used to say, too.”

“I hope I say it with more fondness.” Aziraphale looked over his shoulder, smile soft. “You do look terribly uncomfortable. Are you sure you don't hurt?”

“Nah, I'm fine,” Crowley said, waving him away. “Just sore. Stiff. Nothing some warm water, a nap, and an Ibuprofen can't fix.”

“Alright. I'll trust you to know your limits.” Aziraphale shut off the water and approached, smile warming when Crowley reached for him, and happily scooped him up. “Will you stay in the bath so I can fetch you a drink and that medicine? Or are you going to follow me about like a needy pup?” he teased.

Crowley huffed then hissed as he was set into the hot water. He didn't let Aziraphale get far, wrapping an arm around his neck to pull him in for a firm kiss. “I'll stay, but only if you get in with me when you come back.”

“Or you allow me to pamper you for a bit, Crowley. I'd like to.”

“It's no wonder I fell in love with you,” Crowley grumbled, but let him go to lean back in the tub. “You make it so very easy.”

Aziraphale brushed his fringe back. “And I don't even have to do anything I don't want to do.”

Crowley smiled a little crookedly and pressed his cheek to the cool porcelain. “I know what you mean. I don't want you to do things you don't want, that'd be no fun for either of us.”

“It wouldn't be, no.” Aziraphale kissed the top of his head and rose. “You wait here. I mean it now. Doze off if you like.”

“You know, the more you insist the more I want to do the exact opposite. It's a curse.”

Aziraphale nuzzled his ears. He knew. His very independent omega would do exactly as he wanted. “Please do so for me.”

Crowley huffed, ears twitching. “Wellll, if it's for you…”

“Thank you. It's a bit difficult for me to... to properly explain, but you let me put marks on you, so now- now I need to take care of you.” It was something like instinct, but it was just as much Aziraphale’s personality. He liked to take care of things, people included, and he liked to give.

“Alright, alright. I'll stay put so my sweet alpha can take care of me.” Crowley flung a hand over his forehead and sunk a little deeper in the tub. “Such hardship I have to endure.”

“Yes. Your life is oh, so difficult.”

Aziraphale turned and quickly left the room to fetch Crowley a bottle of water out of the fridge. He was quick to return, two pills retrieved from the medicine cabinet.

“Still awake, pet?”

The hum he received was soft but a single golden eye opened. The steam from the hot water was already making the ends of his hair curl. “Mmm- 'M awake, angel.” He didn't say he'd almost already begun to doze off.

“Hardly.” Aziraphale knelt down beside the tub, unscrewing the water's cap. “Take your medicine before you sleep.”

“As my alpha commands,” Crowley mocked. He might have been falling asleep but nothing could stop him from being a pest. While Aziraphale’s eyes rolled he swallowed the two pills with the help of generous gulps of the water. “There, all drugged up.”

“I'm very proud of you. Behaving like a child,” he teased, reaching up to tweak one of his ears. “And here I was going to compliment how lovely you look in here with the steam curling the ends of your hair. It looks more fiery than ever.”

“Mmm. That's why you were ogling me while I was drinking.”

“One of the reasons.” Aziraphale twirled a lock of hair around his finger, adding to the curl. “One of so many reasons.”

Crowley smirked at him and leaned into his hand. “Shoulda seen it when my hair was long. Practically had ringlet curls goin' on.”

“Did you? I can picture that. You're always changing your styles about.”

“Mmhmm. Grew it out in secondary. Drove my 'rents nuts.”

“I'm sure it was lovely. Have you thought of growing it out again?”

“A time or two. Was a bit of a pain in school, all the alphas wanted to pull and touch it. The colour got me a lot of unwanted attention. Cut it all off in a fit after a nasty break up in Uni and just never grew it back.”

Aziraphale hummed, nuzzling his ears. “If you ever do decide to grow it back again, I'd only pull if you wanted it.”

“I might let you, if you were very good.”

Purrs rumbling, Aziraphale reached for Crowley’s shampoo and poured a dollop in his palm. “I'll always be good for you, my pretty omega.”

Crowley hummed as Aziraphale worked his hair into a lather, a sound that quickly became a purr when blunt nails were introduced to his scalp. He couldn't remember the last time someone had washed his hair for him. Maybe his mum as a pup? “Mm. You're definitely being good now.”

“You were good for me. Being so still while you were tied, being honest about what you could handle.” Aziraphale was careful with his ears, not wanting to get any shampoo in them. “I'm very proud of you,” he purred, voice just as low a rumble.

“Keep that up and you will put me to sleep,” Crowley murmured, eyes drooping with the heat and Aziraphale’s soothing voice. He knew he was safe here with Aziraphale. Safe and wanted and cared for.

“It's almost as if that's what I want.” Aziraphale gently guided Crowley forward, gently rubbing his back. “Eyes closed. I'll get the shower head and rinse this out.”

Aziraphale continued to wash him, murmuring praise and purrs and nuzzling fondly whenever and wherever he could. Even after Crowley’s breathing evened and his eyes stayed shut, Aziraphale continued to gently clean him.

Once the water was drained, Aziraphale plucked up a towel to wrap him in before easily lifting him, smiling at the soft sound of protest. Shushing him, Aziraphale kissed his brow and carried him to bed. He dried him off, soon settling him beneath the sheets and tucking him in.

He had four legs when he climbed in himself, huddling against Crowley’s side and resting his large muzzle against Crowley’s shoulder. Instincts yearned to be curled up with a fellow wolf, but being snuggled close to his omega was just as good. Aziraphale had him safe and close and no one was going to hurt him. It was enough to help him soon find sleep himself.

Chapter Text

It was the alarm that woke Crowley up, and good thing too. Without it he would have kept right on sleeping well past the time school let out, into the night, and possibly into the next day. He was just so comfortable here. Warm and safe with bourbon and chocolate and apples and caramel all mixed together. In his nest with his alpha, perfect except for the obnoxious beeping somewhere nearby.

Seeing as one entire side was being weighed down by a great big wolf, Crowley reached with the other hand only to be sharply reminded of alpha fangs sinking into that shoulder not all that long ago. Definitely more awake now, Crowley hissed his discomfort and felt around until fingers made contact with his mobile. The alarm was silenced with practised blind ease and Crowley turned his head to nuzzle into the wolfy muzzle nearby. “Awake, 'ngel?”

He made a soft grumbling sound in return, wanting his omega to go back to sleep in their nice, safe nest.

Crowley chuckled at the reverse of their normal wake up. It was usually him who was grumbly and not wanting to wake up. The hand that was trapped via Aziraphale’s bulk came up to scratch at his side, about as far as he could reach. “Angel, we have a pup to get soon.”

His ears perked in interest at that, but he just grumbled again and pushed himself further onto Crowley. He pressed him down, wet nose smushing against his cheek.

“Aziraphale!” Crowley gasped, moving his head as far away from him as he could, which wasn't far and only made that wet nose follow. “Oi! Your nose is cold.”

Aziraphale’s tail whipped excitedly, big tongue swiping across Crowley’s face. His hindbrain was in control and it wanted his omega to change. It wanted his mate to shift as he had, and Aziraphale nuzzled and grumbled and licked in an instinctive bid to get his way.

In Crowley’s defence, his own instincts weren't entirely unaware of what his alpha was attempting to nudge into happening. The scent of another changed wolf was difficult on its own to ignore, doubly so when it was his own alpha. And as relaxed and happy as he was in their nest, Crowley almost let it happen. It would have been so easy to just give in to, to become wolf with his alpha and chase and romp and mate the way instincts wanted to.

The problem was his pesky fears. Getting stuck like that, unable to change back. Crowley could still remember the pure terror of realising he couldn't change and would have a heat with no pack and no alpha to keep him safe, that he could be mated by any wandering wolf and be unable to do anything about it.

With a sharp inhale Crowley ducked into Aziraphale’s furred neck and wrapped his free arm around him. The dull ache in his shoulder helped keep him human, a reminder of what shape he was supposed to be while he clung and worked on keeping his breathing even and steady.

Aziraphale’s frustrated whine cut off halfway, the stern reminder to behave from his human half enough to change him from four legged to two. His arms immediately banded around Crowley, finding their way between his back and the mattress to hold him close and tuck him into his scent gland. “I'm sorry, pet. I'm so sorry.”

Crowley shook his head, smearing the oil across his cheek and breathing in bourbon, chocolate, and not a hint of wolf.

Ears and tail pressing flat as if he could hide them entirely, Aziraphale kissed the top of his head and forced purrs to soothe. “I love you. I love you just like this. It's alright. I'm so sorry.”

“'S okay,” Crowley managed to mumble into Aziraphale’s shoulder. The purrs helped to calm his panic, but couldn't stop how awful he felt about panicking in the first place. Something of a mix of frustration and disappointment in himself at not being the mate Aziraphale deserved.

“I'd say it's just those pesky instincts, but I'm going to begin feeling like something of a broken record if I keep using that excuse.” Aziraphale huffed something of a laugh into Crowley's hair. “Perhaps I'm more of a typical brutish alpha than I thought.”

“You're not. You know you're not.” Crowley hugged his neck tighter. Aziraphale wasn’t like that because he wasn't snapping and snarling at him to just get over it already and change. He wasn't pushing him away when all Crowley wanted was to hold on. “Shouldn't say such things about my alpha.”

Aziraphale smiled softly. “Why? What would his omega do about it?”

Crowley’s tail thumped once. “Kiss the daylights out of you until you apologise for saying such untrue things.”

“Goodness. Such cruel torture,” he teased. “I suppose I’ll just have to-” Crowley’s alarm blared again, both of their heads turning to look towards the offending device. “I’m very glad mine doesn’t make those irritating sounds since Warlock fiddled with it for me.” Even though the ringtone left much to be desired. If he knew how to turn it off, he would.

“Pfft.” Crowley rolled his eyes and reached properly for his phone to turn the alarm off. “Making it obnoxious is the only way I get out of bed half the time.”

“So I’ve noticed.” Aziraphale stole a kiss before rolling away and sitting up, giving Crowley room. “No messages from him at all?”

Crowley frowned at the significant lack of text messages or even twitter notifications. Warlock usually sent him something at lunch time or passing periods. “No… which isn't like him.”

“No, it isn’t.” Aziraphale had to climb out of bed to locate his trousers and fish his troublesome telephone out of it. It took him several tries to unlock it, but he also didn’t have any notifications. “I’m going to get dressed.”

“Yeah, me too.” Crowley took a moment to run a hand over his face. He needed to get himself together and deal with whatever had just happened between them later. Warlock had to come first.

It had been a terrible day. They both knew that immediately just from Warlock’s posture and the way his gaze kept darting over his shoulder even though his back was firmly against the post. He didn’t hesitate to run up to Aziraphale when he stepped out of the car to let him in, pushing himself into Aziraphale’s stomach. His scent was a blast of fear and fury, tangled into a panicky little mess.

“What happened, duck?” he asked, and Warlock shook his head.

Crowley was up and out of the Bentley in an instant. He didn't care that there was a line of other cars behind him, something was wrong with Warlock and that took precedence over everything else. He knelt on one knee beside him, a hand on his back and tried to quickly parse through the riot of sour in his usually sweet scent. “Hey, pup, it's alright. You're alright now.”

“No because Jack said I’d have to- to ‘try harder’ to get him in trouble. I don’t care if he gets in trouble, I just want him and his stupid jerk friends to leave me alone! He didn’t even sit behind me and neither did Kenney, but another one of his friends kicked my desk basically all day. And when I tried to call you, my stupid teacher took my phone and said I’d get it back if I went to the stupid principal’s office and when I did that, she said she’d have to set up another meeting with you about appropriate school devices so now I’m like-”

He broke off, surprised when Aziraphale was suddenly a snarling wolf darting into the school and leaving a furious trail of alpha scent in his wake.

“Whoa.”

“Christ on a bike,” Crowley muttered, but he let out a breath through his nose, trying to keep his own fury at bay. “Just- Other than your desk, did they hurt or touch you in any way today?”

Warlock started to shrug, but the little growl Crowley let slip had his shoulders hunching instead. “They took my lunch,” he mumbled.

It was very likely as much as he was going to get from him at this point. Crowley nodded and cupped his cheek. “I need you to know I'm not mad at you, pup. You haven't done a single thing wrong and Aziraphale and I will get your phone back, alright?”

“Can I go to a new school too?”

Crowley actually chuckled a little. “Yeah, we'll get you into a different school. This one clearly isn't working out.”

Warlock nodded, eyes bright with tears he was too stubborn to let happen. “I hate it here.”

“I know you do and I hate that you've had to go through this.” And he might not have been letting them fall, but Crowley could see how red his eyes were and could smell the misery in his scent. A pup too stubborn to ask for the comfort he needed. Crowley took pity on him and gently pulled him into his arms. There was an initial resistance but Warlock quickly gave in to being held in the safest embrace Crowley could muster. “Do you wanna wait in the car while I go after our alpha or come with me?”

He hesitated, not quite sure if the honest answer was the right answer. But if Crowley wasn’t mad, it should be okay. And he’d probably get it. He seemed to get most things. “I want to hear him yell at her.”

Crowley snorted and gave Warlock's back a pat before releasing him. “Of course you do. Hopefully he hasn't started without us, eh?”

“He probably did since you’re being slow,” Warlock huffed. “Can I… be a wolf?”

“Yeah, alright, you can-” He didn't even get to finish before there was a shaggy wolf pup in place of the boy. Crowley scooped him up with a sigh before he had a chance to scamper off and the annoyed huff he received earned an eyeroll. “Sorry, pup, but I'm not gonna risk someone stepping on you.”

The Bentley was quickly locked and Crowley wasted no time in going inside. Hopefully he got to Aziraphale before he got himself into too much trouble.

Not that Aziraphale considered himself to be in trouble, chest puffed up and shoulders squared as he snarled and growled and pressed himself as close to the headteacher as her desk allowed. They were two snarling alphas defending their pups, but only one of them was in the right and they both knew it.

And they both knew what an alpha protecting an omega felt, so she was wise enough not to rise and present herself as a bigger target but not quite so wise as to avoid snapping back at each of his increasingly less-subtle threats. By the time apples filled the doorway, he already had Warlock’s phone in hand and was more than ready to maul her, the wolf inside pulling at him insistently.

Under normal circumstances Crowley was not one to walk into a room with one snarling alpha, let alone multiple, but his alpha was one of them and Crowley knew without any doubt that Aziraphale wouldn't let any harm come to him or Warlock.

He kept the pup tucked close when he entered the office, jaw set against the angered snarl of Mrs. Kaur. At least neither of them were truly at each other's throats just yet. A hand went to Aziraphale’s back, pressing more firmly when furious storm-blue eyes flicked in his direction. “Good, you got his phone.”

Aziraphale wavered. He didn’t want to back down, but he also knew that their pup was there. The little wolf smell didn’t help the way his instincts were aching, but some of the puff eased. “Yes.” He had to clear his throat to settle the growl. “I did, yes.”

“Thank you.” Only then did he turn his attention to the headteacher. “In light of today's events this is clearly not a safe environment for my pup. I'm going to be removing Warlock Dowling from this facility and reporting all of this to the school board.”

“Taking electronics is hardly a safety violation when there are plenty of available telephones on campus for students to use.”

“And what about his desk being kicked all day? Or his lunch being stolen? What good are you if you can't protect one single omega student?”

It was a vital punch to her alpha pride, and Aziraphale wanted to yank Crowley close and kiss him. It wasn't the time for all of that, but he did loop an arm around his waist and let his tail wag with pride. His good omega. Except...

“His lunch was stolen?”

“Mmhmm, that's what Warlock said.” And Crowley pressed their sides together when Aziraphale’s growl sounded low and angry once again.

“That wasn't brought to my attention.”

“Clearly, it wouldn't have mattered if it had been,” Aziraphale growled. “I'd love to know what your husband would think about all of this, you know. I sincerely hope your son isn't learning this wretched behaviour from his home life.”

“Now you see here-”

“No,” Aziraphale snarled, fangs sharp. “I'll make any inference I see fit as that's what you've done with Warlock.”

Crowley honestly couldn't care less what sort of home they had, it wasn't any of his business. “Regardless, take Warlock off your books. He's not coming back here. His new school will contact you lot for his grades when they get around to it.”

“And they had best be accurate,” Aziraphale warned.

“That's quite alright. The class should be much less trouble without-”

Aziraphale growled over her and she returned the sound, but swallowed the rest of her comment when he finally lost the battle with instincts and faced her as a wolf taller than her desk with the hair on his back raised.

Good god Crowley loved him. As much as he just wanted to take Warlock home his instincts were singing his alpha's praises. A good and proper mate that protected their pup. Crowley pet down his back, smoothing out the fur and hopefully soothing him as well as expressing his fondness. “Angel, why don't we just head on home? We gotta get some food in our pup.” And pick out a, hopefully, better school.

Aziraphale snorted and grumbled, lifting up onto hind legs and nudging Warlock with his muzzle. Tail softly wagging, Warlock nudged him back, and Aziraphale looked imploringly at Crowley. He wanted to carry their pup. He wanted to keep him safe.

Crowley rolled his eyes all dramatic like and sighed as if it was some great hardship. “Oh, fine. You can carry him. As if I could resist those big blue eyes of yours.”

Aziraphale licked his cheek, then gently scruffed Warlock and stalked out of the office with tail and pup held high.

He was adorable, the perfect sort of mate that protected their pup and was proud of him and got angry on his behalf. The sort of mate his instincts practically screamed he should be wanting to have whole litters with. Which was embarrassing on multiple levels. That wasn't even a conversation they were anywhere close to having beyond hypotheticals. Crowley took a breath to manage his own silly reactions but stopped just short of leaving, eyes turning to Mrs. Kaur who no longer smelled nearly as enraged but was still obviously quietly furious. “I don't get it. It wouldn't have hurt you or anyone else to give him even an iota of sympathy.”

“Children need firmer discipline than you seem to believe, Mr. Crowley. He's too old for you to coddle.”

It sounded like to him her own pup needed that 'firm discipline' and wasn't getting it… Or maybe that was it. Maybe the poor pup had received too little softness and kindness and didn't know any other way to act.

He left without a retort, she didn't really deserve to take up more of his time and there was an impatient alpha partway down the wall making muffled hurry-up noises. Crowley smiled after him and jogged to catch up, hand once again falling to Aziraphale’s back. “Okay, okay. You're the one who ran off without me.”

He had been making a theatrical exit. Of all people, Crowley should've appreciated that. Not to mention that he wanted to free their pup from this school of terrors expediently. Aziraphale grumbled, but could feel the breeze from Warlock's wagging tail and knew he'd done well.

From the wag of Aziraphale's tail he knew he was terribly pleased with himself. Crowley shook his head and scritched behind a floppy ear. “I'm glad you were here, angel. You were a big help.”

Aziraphale wiggled cheerfully, front paws tapping on the scarred linoleum. He'd done very well. He'd protected his pack and his omegas were happy. A good alpha, then.

He had been, Crowley would never deny that. And he was more than happy to open the school doors as well as the Bentley door for them both. “If you're gonna stay wolf you gotta be laid down in the back. Safer that way.”

He hesitated, but Warlock's soft woof was enough for Aziraphale to leap into the backseat and sprawl across the cushions. He nestled Warlock between his front paws and settled in. The pup was just about the size of his head, but Aziraphale let that little tail smack his muzzle without complaint. Or without trying to swat him off the seat, the little pest. The little hungry rumbles he could hear from an empty stomach were worrisome, infuriating in a way he was able to keep from tainting his scent. Keeping his pup safe and happy until he could be fed was the most important thing.

Crowley just knew he was going to have white wolf fur all over the Bentley just like it was all over his bed. Well, the fur was obviously just a staple of having Aziraphale around and as long as he wanted to keep coming around Crowley wasn't about to deny him. Getting to glance back and see his alpha and their pup cuddled together made his heart soar. He finally had something of a family, a pack, he had to make sure he kept it.

Which, for Crowley, meant figuring out how he could get over his fear of changing. Aziraphale deserved a mate that could change with him, an equal, and Crowley didn't feel like much of an equal in that regard. He just hoped Aziraphale would wait for him and keep loving him until the time he could share that part of himself.

Warlock had the next three days off of school and it was pretty cool. Crowley had to return to work that Tuesday, putting a huge house up for sale. He and Aziraphale both heard about the jealousy of his coworkers over it when Crowley picked them both up from the bookshop at the end of the day.

He'd also had time to make phone calls to different area schools, so they and Aziraphale went to some of them the following day. And that was the cool thing. It was like having two parents again, but they were different.

His dad had been older than his mom, but he'd always made a big deal out of it. Warlock had seen him pat her head and tell her she was “too young to understand” things. It used to make her so mad, but Aziraphale never did anything like that. He let Crowley take the lead at schools and they all discussed it after.

All of them. They included Warlock. The only opinion of his they completely dismissed was no school ever again, but that hadn't exactly been a surprise. It was good. It was better. He went to therapy that afternoon and talked with an eagerness he hadn't before, but there was so much to share. So many hopes to share. That alpha scent was starting to mingle with the two omegas at the flat and it was cool. Nice in a way he didn't quite have words for, but his therapist understood anyway.

Waiting with Crowley in the Bentley, Aziraphale let him make call after call to all of the people involved in Warlock's case as he explained his reasonings behind removing him from the school again and again. And he just kept a soothing hand on his knee and offered sympathy when he ranted about each person between each call.

And when Warlock got in, they listened to him talk about his appointment as they drove back to a place that was starting to feel more and more like home.

So much so that it was... strange when Warlock returned to school and Aziraphale was alone in his bookshop the day Warlock started at his new school. His nest smelled so faintly of Crowley that he held his scent pouch close to his nose and quickly left his bedroom.

And then he left the bookshop entirely.

He visited with Tracy, endured her teasing, then took her to Lise and endured the combination of their teasing. Especially when Crowley telephoned at the end of the day and asked if he wanted to pick up Warlock with him. To see how his first day had gone.

“I would love to, pet. I'm at Lise's home. She tells me she adores the listing.”

“Oh, good. Haven't had any calls about it yet, but only so many people can afford a place like that.” One of which he was talking to over the phone, which was still an idea he was getting used to. “Gonna take a little while for it to sell, I think.”

“That's alright, pet. She isn't expecting anything to happen overnight. But she is taking her pups home Sunday so they can return to school. I told her she should've pushed all this back a week. Autumn break is, after all, the week after.” Aziraphale chuckled, tail wagging. It meant Crowley’s birthday was near too, and Aziraphale still had to take Warlock out to find him the perfect sort of gift. “In any case, she'd like us to bring Warlock over Saturday for dinner.”

Crowley blew out a breath and changed lanes to get around a slow moving lorry. “Is this gonna be a suit and tie sort of dinner?”

Aziraphale laughed. “My dear, you worry far too much about what you wear. I'm tempted to say yes, as I'm sure you make a striking picture in a suit and tie.”

“Shut it,” Crowley grumbled. “I just don't wanna show up and be the odd one out. I barely know which is the salad fork and which is the dinner fork, but at least I can look good.”

“Crowley, my dear, sweet omega. No one here will mind which fork you use or any such thing as all that. I certainly hope Lise doesn’t come off as- as some sort of snobbish person.”

“Nooo, she doesn't. I was just making a joke at my own expense. I don't think you or Tracy'd be friends with someone like that.”

“Nor would we expect you to be. But you are correct about being able to look good. You always manage that,” he purred.

“I know I do.” Looking good was the one thing Crowley knew he did very very well. “But I'm up for dinner, maybe Warlock will make friends with one of her pups.” He surely needed a friend or two closer to his own age.

“That would be lovely. I’m hopeful today went well for him at school. You’ll be here soon?”

“Yeah, I'm just around the corner.” Which was said just before he turned onto the long street the house was at the end of. “Be there in a minute or two.”

“Oh, good. Do we have time for you to come in and say hello?” he wondered, plucking his pocketwatch out and flicking it open with a hum.

Crowley glanced at the clock on the dash. “Yeah, think so, this one runs till four.”

“Alright. We won’t stay long. I know we both want to arrive a touch early, but Tracy says you haven’t needed a pupsitter in some time.” He smiled, both at the words and at seeing the Bentley approaching from his spot on the front steps. “I can’t imagine why that would be.”

“Neither can I,” Crowley said dryly. He hung up to Aziraphale’s soft chuckles and was out of the Bentley hardly a second after parking. As he approached Crowley was struck with just how right Aziraphale looked there standing on the stoop. Like he belonged in front of this classic home. It suited him. Crowley shook that thought away quickly and bound up both steps to plant a kiss right on his alpha. “Hullo, angel.”

“Hello, pet.” Aziraphale’s tail swished, smile bright. His arms found their way around Crowley’s waist easily, smile brightening. He was such a contrast to the classic style of buildings around them, eye-catching and beautiful. It was nice, having him arrive as if coming home for the night. Coming home to him. “How has your day gone?”

“Oh, it was a riot. Hastur and Ligur continue to be in a state of suspicious confusion over how I managed to 'worm my way into Mrs. Gordon's good graces'. I've had fun riling them up.”

“Wicked devil,” Aziraphale purred. “Come inside. You can worm your way into her good graces a bit more.”

“In a second, I haven't been able to kiss my alpha all day.” And he cupped Aziraphale’s jaw to do just that, smiling into the kiss at the feel of his entire lower half shaking with the wag of his tail.

It was always a joy, being able to kiss Crowley. Tasting him, being close enough to feel the angles of him pressed into his own plush curves and inhale that sweet scent. He never wanted to lose this, and it was all too easy to imagine what it might be like to actually have Crowley coming home to him at the end of the day. “I love you,” he murmured as the kiss ended.

“I love you, too.” Crowley nuzzled their noses together, enjoying just having him close after being apart all day. “Missed you today.”

“And I you. There aren’t nearly enough apples at the bookshop.”

“Aw, angel, need me to scent up the place?”

Aziraphale’s cheeks coloured, but he really didn’t think he’d be able to sleep there without it. “If it’s no trouble.”

“It isn't,” Crowley insisted. “The flat's been getting a lot of love lately, wouldn't be fair to neglect the shop.”

“Yes, but it’s far more important that Warlock be able to have access to his nest than having the pair of you stay with me.”

A window to the side opened, two very nosy women peeking out. “Aziraphale, my love, I know the man is pretty to look at, but you can’t keep him all to yourself,” Lise called, forcing his blush to deepen.

Crowley threw his head back and cackled. “I'm pretty sure he could if he wanted to!”

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, we’re in public.”

“Then bring him in, you ridiculous alpha.”

“She does have a point, angel.” Crowley snickered at the bland look Aziraphale shot at him as he stepped back, hands folded and posture neat. “Oh, don't be like that. I'm sure this is karma for all the times we've embarrassed Warlock.”

“You’re a demon,” he accused, his tail giving away his amusement. “It’s a wonder that pup of ours even tolerates you.”

Our pup. It made his heart fill and Crowley swooped in to kiss him again to the shouts and groans of the women inside. It didn't last long, not with how he was laughing which only grew harder when Aziraphale huffed and dragged him inside. “You can't say you don't love me!”

“Of course I love you.” Aziraphale huffed again as he straightened his waistcoat, neither of them seeing Lise’s brows lift. “That doesn’t mean I’m blind to your faults, Anthony J. Crowley.”

Crowley's whistle echoed in the long hall. “Oh, you really got my number, don't you?”

“I couldn’t possibly love you this much if I didn’t.” He took Crowley’s hand again. This wasn’t a business meeting, even peripherally, so he didn’t feel as if it was improper.

Though it was terribly embarrassing when Tracy cooed at them. “I knew all along the two of you would get on. Like a house on fire, the pair of you.”

“Yes, yes. You were right. No need to lord it over us.”

“Of course there is. If you’d listened to me straight off, you’d be wed already.”

Aziraphale sighed gustily. “My dear, I think we need to fetch Warlock right away. No time to chat after all.”

Crowley’s cheeks pinked. He didn't think Aziraphale was interested in marriage. That sort of assumption felt very presumptuous. “Erm, well, we have… time?”

The unimpressed look Aziraphale slanted him with had Tracy laughing. “And how is he? Aziraphale was telling us he’d started a new school.”

“Well he definitely enjoyed a few days of no school while we got everything sorted, but I got a couple 'I'm bored's throughout the day so I think it's not the worst thing ever.”

“He sent me one of those moving pictures.”

“A GIF, luv,” Tracy corrected, clearly not for the first time and Aziraphale nodded.

“Yes. It’s a moving picture of a child being spun by some sort of small carousel? It flashes ‘bored’ in a very bold font at the bottom.”

Lise laughed, looping an arm firmly around one of Crowley’s. “It’s what started the chat about him. It was something of a shock to see Aziraphale with a mobile, though. So unlike him.”

Crowley knew, without even looking, that Aziraphale was boring a hole into the side of his head and he couldn't help but smile. “Well, Warlock is terminally attached to his so I suppose it is his and my faults that Aziraphale was dragged, kicking and screaming, into the twenty-first century.”

“That boy does text rather constantly. He types more than he speaks, and it’s very difficult to keep up with just a computer,” Aziraphale mused, beyond grateful that Crowley hadn’t mentioned the personal photographs. Even in jest, he wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to look Lise in the eye ever again.

“Pfft. You think you have it bad, when it was just the two of us my phone was blowing up constantly with some meme or another.”

Lise patted his arm. “It is easier to share the load, isn’t it?”

“Oh, he's not so bad.” Crowley rubbed the back of his head with a free hand. “But the, er, support is nice. Especially with the crazy that was the last two weeks.”

“And it truly isn’t as though I mind helping however Crowley allows. I enjoy spending time with them.” Aziraphale’s tail whipped, hands clasping. “Warlock doesn’t seem to mind my presence too terribly.”

“Come off it, he loves having you around. He hugs you more'n he hugs me at this rate.”

Aziraphale’s smile turned a bit shy. “I suppose I'm a bit softer.”

“A bonafide pillow,” Tracy teased. “I'll wager our Crowley hugs you quite a bit too.”

“Here and there,” was the best Aziraphale would admit, cheeks dusting with colour.

“Like on my steps just a few minutes ago,” Lise reminded him, his blush deepening.

Crowley pulled away from her, smile going a touch mischievous when he wrapped an arm around Aziraphale’s middle. “What can I say? My regular pillows just don't cut it anymore.”

“Spending a lot of... nights together, then?”

“For Heaven's sake, Lise.”

“It seems like a fair question, my love. And such a pertinent one too.”

Crowley’s cheeks took on a rosy hue. “Well… I'd say my flat's been getting some activity.”

Tracy laughed aloud and Aziraphale’s face disappeared into his palms. “A very good choice of words, dear. All sorts of action, hm?”

“I think Aziraphale would prefer to leave anything more than that a mystery.” Crowley nuzzled at his temple, noting the way his ears had pinned back, poor thing.

He grunted something of an agreement. Being surrounded by three omegas had been a very dangerous choice and he was paying for it.

“We've all had that sort of action, luv.” Tracy waved a hand. “No need to fret.”

He was never allowing these three together again. Absolutely not.

Lise smiled. “We have, but we'll let this lie. Heaven forbid we drive him wolf from embarrassment. Crowley, darling, I have a question for you. Let me steal you away from Aziraphale for a few minutes. Seconds, really.”

“Ah- Sure. I can do a question or two.” Though he had no idea what she could possibly want. A kiss was pressed to Aziraphale’s cheek before he pulled away. “Now, don't let Tracy bully you while I'm not here.”

“I'll do my best, though I would hardly call her a bully.”

Lise took hold of Crowley’s arm, beaming. “Come along, darling. You need to fetch your pup.”

“Yeah, we don't wanna be late picking him up on his first day.” He let her pull him along, equal parts amused and curious. “If it's about the listing, I can change anything you need.”

“Oh, I do have something I'd like to suggest but I'll need your help.” She led him to the conservatory. “I wondered if you could fill this properly. If I funded it and gave you free design reign. What's it called in your world? Staging?”

“I- Well- I mean-” Crowley looked over the empty space. “I'm no professional gardener by any means.”

She wagged a finger. “Aziraphale’s shown me photographs of your room in your flat, and I love the ideas you shared Monday. Adored them. And I would really appreciate being able to see this room as it should be. As it deserves to be.”

He wrinkled his nose at her. “If this is a ploy to try and get me to convince Aziraphale to buy, I'm wise to you, you know.”

“Crowley, I have known that alpha longer than you have been alive. If I was truly going to push him into putting in an offer, I would. But he's terribly stubborn and he would need a partner who would give him enough pups to fill these rooms.”

That last part made him want to instinctually go on the defensive. There wouldn't be anyone giving Aziraphale any pups unless it was- Crowley’s cheeks turned red and he cleared his throat. “Alright, alright. I'll start drawing up some actual plans and seeing what the nurseries still have this time of year.”

“Wonderful. And there is no budget. You'll do exactly as you please because you'll make it gorgeous. Stunning. Marvellous. And if you hurt Aziraphale, I promise you will struggle with estate work the rest of your life.”

Crowley blinked at the sudden fierceness in her and then patted the hand on his arm. “I have no doubt about that. He's very lucky to have a friend like you looking out for him, but I can assure you I have no intentions of ever hurting him.”

“And not only because of the threat, I should hope.” She sighed. “I have never, not once, heard him so freely say that he loved someone. Not since he lost his mothers. He's alight with you. Buoyant. Himself. I've never seen him able to exist simply as he is with a beau either. There's always been something they thought he needed to improve.”

“That's ridiculous. He's perfect as he is.” It just came out without him thinking about it and Crowley felt his face get even warmer. Though it was probably good it was that and not how Aziraphale had first told him he loved him. Crowley was certain they would no longer be a couple if he blurted that out.

She smiled, laying a hand over Crowley's. “Yes, he is. Particular, stubborn, silly - he's wonderful. And so much fun to play with on four legs, isn't he? We always knew he'd be an alpha, you know. He's always been a big puffball when he transforms.”

“Has he now?” Something mischievous twinkled in Crowley’s hidden eyes. “Well, one of these days you'll have to pull old photo albums and really embarrass him.”

“With pleasure. Tomorrow, perhaps. Has Aziraphale asked you to dinner tomorrow? You and your pup.”

“He has, yes. Will your pups be here? I'd hate for Warlock to be bored to tears by our dull adult conversations.”

“They will. As will my in-laws. They're very interested in selling, so you'll need to make an excellent first impression. And I have no doubt you will, darling. You're wonderful. Delightful. A true charmer.”

“Oh, stop that you old flatterer.” He waved the praise away. “Keep saying things like that and I'll get full of myself.”

“You have every right to be. Now, speaking of Warlock, I've stolen you long enough. I'll give you back to your alpha, and you can go fetch him. I hope he had a wonderful day, despite his boredom.”

“I'm sure it was just fine.” He let her pull him from the conservatory and down the hall that was quickly becoming familiar. “He just likes to be dramatic.”

“Well, I look forward to meeting him tomorrow. Aziraphale says he's on the shy side and doesn't like to be touched by strangers?”

“That's right. He warmed up to Aziraphale quick as anything, but that's not very usual.”

“With luck, he'll warm up to his new Auntie Lise soon too. We hug in this family, Crowley.” But she wasn't going to invade a pup's space if he didn't like it. She'd be livid if anyone did to hers. “None of mine are shy. If you can imagine.”

“I barely know you and I'd be surprised if any of your pups turned out shy.” Crowley smiled at the way she laughed but was quickly distracted when Aziraphale immediately looked their way when they returned, tail picking up speed the second Aziraphale spotted him. “Ready to go, angel?”

“Yes. Tracy's going to spend a bit more time here before making use of Lise's driver. Did her question get answered?”

“Wonderfully! I'm very excited about it, Aziraphale. He's going to make it beautiful. A dream come true. I also threatened him properly.”

“Lise!” he gasped.

“Someone has to, my love. Clearly.”

Crowley laughed and went to him, lifting one of Aziraphale's hands to kiss his knuckles. “It's not a big deal, angel. Besides, she has a point, someone needed to make sure I have only purest intentions towards you.”

“I certainly hope the pair of you have more fun than that,” Tracy teased, and Aziraphale pulled Crowley closer.

“Regardless, I'm hardly a pup in need of protection. Especially not from you, dearest.”

“Of course you don't need saving from me or our very family friendly fun.”

Lise laughed, wrapping her arms around Aziraphale for a tight hug. “Family expanding fun, perhaps.”

Not until or if Crowley was ever ready for that. Raising Warlock was vastly different from raising a pup from birth, and the pup Crowley already had deserved a say in any fresh additions too. So Aziraphale gave her a squeeze before drawing back, but didn't comment otherwise so she'd know to let that subject lie.

“We'll see you tomorrow, Lise.”

Crowley let her hug him as well and chose to just smile at her comment, he'd given the both of them more than enough to gossip over. “Tomorrow, and I should have some rudimentary plans drawn up for that garden. I'll show them to you to get your approval before getting anything.”

“Absolutely. I'll have a check ready for you, and if you find you need more, you have my telephone number.”

“That I do.” He tucked Aziraphale’s hand into his arm and ignored Tracy's teasing coo, she'd likely have a field day here soon when it came time for their shared cycle and he wasn't about to give her more ammunition than she already had.

Aziraphale ignored it as well, but couldn't help the blush. He was curious enough that he was pulling Crowley towards the door immediately following their goodbyes to Tracy. “What,” he asked as they approached the Bentley, “is she writing you a check for? What sorts of drawings?”

“She wants me to completely overhaul that back garden myself. Apparently she liked the look of my plant room enough to think I got skills for that sort of job.”

“Ah. Well. I may have bragged about you a bit, but you did sound as if you had very clever ideas Monday.”

“I mean, I guess.” Crowley blew out a breath. “The place is ripe for most anything a half decent gardener could think up. I'm just not sure if my piddly little hobby is up to snuff.”

“Now you stop that. You're very talented and knowledgeable about plants and you know what will sell a room. I think you'll do an excellent job.”

Crowley made a strangled sort of noise and unlocked the passenger side door, opening it for him too. “Hush, you're biassed.”

“I can be biassed and correct.” Aziraphale kissed his cheek before sliding into the car. “Have fun with this opportunity, dearest. You deserve it.”

“I refuse!” Crowley announced, closing the door and continuing his dramatics as he rounded the car. “I will stress and worry and probably pull my hair out over it!” He opened his own door and slid inside, ignoring the way Aziraphale was chuckling. “And, yeah, okay, I might enjoy it a little bit.”

“Silly thing. Will you allow me to assist?”

“You want to?”

“Of course.” Aziraphale smiled as the car started. “I don’t know much at all about plants, but I can lift things and follow instructions.”

Crowley hummed as he pulled away from the curb. “I do have firsthand experience in how much you can carry without even breaking a sweat.”

“You hardly weigh anything at all, pet.”

“I at least weigh more than a bag of fertiliser. Which should be the heaviest thing, honestly. Most nurseries will deliver saplings.”

“Is that what you would want in there? Knowing Lise, she’s expecting quite a splash.”

“I'm not entirely sure yet. I know ivy would look fantastic on the back wall and some shrubs below that would catch the eye. The rest is going to be trying to find plants that won't immediately die or go into hibernation this time of year.”

“Mm. Having the heated flooring and such doesn’t make a difference?”

Crowley blew a raspberry. “It's nice and will keep roots and groundcover from freezing over but not much good for anything taller than a few centimetres. And if I end up doing boxes, the plants won't be on the ground anyway. And with the way it's situated right above that lower room? Can't plant anything with deep roots like trees. They'll break right through the ceiling and cause a whole host of trouble.”

Aziraphale smiled. He adored this silly, dramatic, clever omega more than was reasonable. “Why did you choose becoming an estate agent over doing something with plants? You’re terribly knowledgeable and passionate about them.”

“Well, at the time I was younger and stupider and couldn't see a way to make money growing things in a way that I could survive on… and, well, everything in the tiny little flat I was sharing kept dying so I figured I must not know as much as I thought I did.”

Aziraphale’s brow furrowed. “Did you ever discover why they were?”

Crowley scowled at the road. “Caught the… person I was living with putting salt in all the pots. Won't kill 'em right away but enough over time…”

“How awful. So you weren’t doing anything wrong at all.”

“Not that I know of, but…” He shrugged, fingers tapping the steering wheel. “By then the damage was done. Not like it would have made any sort of career, anyway.”

Aziraphale hummed. He doubted that. He was sure Crowley would’ve been able to make a wonderful career out of his work with plants. And as curious as he was about this former roommate of his, it didn’t seem as if Crowley particularly wanted to discuss them. “If you could switch to it now, would you?”

“I… I dunno. That'd be a real big risk.”

“Crowley, if you didn’t have to worry about finances or court perception regarding the adoption, would you be interested? It’s alright to dream.”

“Yeah, I know it is.” It just didn't seem very practical most of the time. “I… I guess? Maybe? It's been a long time since I tried growing anything for more than just myself.”

“Alright. I’m only curious, Crowley. I want to know about your dreams.” Aziraphale laid a hand on his leg. “Possibilities can be exciting.”

Crowley blew out a breath. Exciting, sure, but also terrifying when those dreams could so easily get overturned. “I- I'd like to, some day, have an actual garden again like my parents had. Almost all the vegetables I had growing up were hand grown by us. Can't really do that in my flat.”

“Not very easily, no.” Aziraphale squeezed gently. “But that sounds like it would be lovely. Home grown meals. None of that chemical processing.”

“I just… I dunno. It felt good to grow the food myself. There was a pride in it when it tasted good. I've got herbs growing now, but it's not the same.”

“I’ve seen them.” He’d used them, Warlock watching him pluck and chop them and muttering that it was “kinda cool” that they didn’t have to buy basil and such from a shop. “During the Second World War, my grandparents had a small vegetable garden on the roof of the bookshop. Unfortunately, my mother and I didn’t inherit a thumb nearly green enough to keep it up.”

“Black as night, are they?”

Aziraphale chuckled. “As far as plants go, yes. Would a few fruits and vegetables be possible in Lise’s conservatory? There are surely hardy things which grow this time of year.”

Crowley hummed and thought about it. “Vegetables for sure, if you grew 'em in boxes. Bit late in season for most fall vegetables, but with the extra warmth… might be able to have carrots, lettuce, spinach, and a few others.”

“That sounds lovely. I’ve heard personal gardens are, ah, in fashion. So it’s rather exciting.”

“In fashion,” Crowley murmured, shaking his head fondly. “What? Want one of those fashionable gardens up on top of the shop again?”

“I won't give you two projects. Besides, it's going to be far too cold up there soon. We'll take care of Lise first.”

“Alright, alright. Maybe in the spring I'll pop up there and see about giving you a nice 'morning tea' garden.”

“Oh, that would be lovely,” Aziraphale cooed. “And of course I'd let you do whatever you like. I have complete faith in you.”

Crowley rolled his eyes but smiled. “It's a lot less stressful thinking about making a garden for you than trying to make one for someone who is, for all intents and purposes, a client.”

“You just know I'm very easy to please.”

“I'm also not trying to sell your shop.” Anymore. “The problem with Lise’s garden is it needs to be sellable. I can't just do whatever I want. A potential buyer has to be able to look at the space and imagine what they would do with it. Gotta strike the perfect balance between enough character to be interesting and bland enough to make someone else want to fill it with their things.”

“My dear, do you truly think Lise is going to allow you to get away with bland? She wants to see artistry.”

“Yeah, I know. She'd've been better off paying someone to plant shrubs and cut them up into fancy shapes.”

“No. You're going to make it beautiful in there. Treat it as you would your own home. She'll nitpick until you do, I have no doubt.”

Crowley sighed and slumped in his seat. “I know. I'm gonna do the best I can, but I'm tellin' you I'm not very confident in this.”

“That's alright, pet. It'll just be you and I, I'll make sure of that.”

A ginger eyebrow went up, the corners of his mouth following. “Oh? Should've known after the car incident you wouldn't want anyone else seeing me get my hands dirty.”

“Oh, stop that.” Aziraphale blushed, but swatted him lightly. “It isn't about that. I just don't want you to feel as if you have to perform.”

“Mmhmm. Can't wait to see how you react when it's warmer and I'm wearing tiny little shorts and up to my elbows in dirt.”

Aziraphale’s scent flared despite himself. “I see.”

Crowley’s little smirk turned into a full, pleased grin. “You are so easy to get going, I love it.”

“You're hardly any better. How tiny?”

“Oh, I think you can easily imagine.”

Aziraphale’s tail beat rhythmically, gaze roving over what they could of Crowley’s legs. “It isn't fair to tempt me whilst on the way to pick Warlock up.”

“But it is fun.” And if it was the cause of them spending the night together it was well worth it.

“You're a terror, you know.” Though there was no complaint in it. Aziraphale gazed towards the turn they would've normally taken to pick Warlock up and hummed disapprovingly. He was going to be following the goings-on there closely until it was thoroughly and satisfactorily resolved. “I did consider her a friend,” he murmured, “but now I'm just... ashamed of her and terribly disappointed.”

Crowley winced in sympathy. “People change, I guess. Or maybe she was just good at hiding her true feelings. I've known a few people like that.”

“Perhaps... Better alphas than her need to be involved in the schools.”

“You can say that again,” Crowley muttered. “I'm just hoping this new school's headteacher being an omega means things will be better for Warlock.”

“Yes, and he seemed a bit more comfortable with her.” Not to mention that it was good for him to see an omega in a position of authority.

He'd still been quiet and shy, but asked them dozens of questions after the first meeting with her. It still wasn't often one saw an omega in charge of anything and he seemed fascinated by the very idea. “And I hope it stays that way.”

“As do I. She didn't seem like a threat.” Which had been a boone for Aziraphale's instincts. “Nor did his new teacher. I was a bit wary about him being yet another beta, but even his classroom didn't smell stressed.”

“No, and that was a relief. I don't want him having bad opinions on betas from one bad experience.”

“Nor do I.” Aziraphale patted his thigh and perked up as they approached the new school. They hadn't yet been released, but there were plenty of parents and guardians waiting. “I just want to be able to pick him up and not have him upset.”

“I know. Me too.” Crowley pulled in behind the other waiting parents and sighed. “Don't think I've ever picked him up and had him been particularly happy.”

“You didn't know it would become as bad as it did this year, pet. And you got him out as quickly as you could.”

Of course he had, it just didn't seem very fair to Warlock to have to go through all of that. “Raising a pup is hard.”

“Yes, but we- you wouldn’t trade him for the world.”

Crowley smiled and laid a hand over the one on his thigh. “No, no we wouldn't. Not for anything.”

Aziraphale smiled softly, turning his hand so he could hold in turn. He was so very lucky that Crowley understood and accepted his desire to be a part of his and Warlock’s lives. “My sweet omega,” he purred as the dismissal bell rang.

Students flooded the halls within seconds, rushing towards the waiting vehicles or grouping together to walk home. Aziraphale perked up, leaning forward a little as if that would help him see one particular pup amidst so many others.

It was adorable and Crowley was torn between watching for Warlock and keeping track of the ways Aziraphale’s floppy ears perked every time there was a flash of black hair in the crowd. So much so that he almost missed a darkly clothed pup barreling down the sidewalk were it not for Aziraphale getting out for the seat to be pulled down. He didn't look upset though, so Crowley leaned across to shout. “Where's the fire, pup? Is it on your tail?”

“Shut up,” he protested, but grinned - he actually grinned - when he was nearly bowled over by an eager white wolf. For a moment, he forgot to be cool and detached and just reached up to hug a creature who was taller than him. “Hi, Aziraphale.”

Crowley shook his head, all fond of the both of them. “I take it today wasn't all that bad.”

“It was okay.” The teacher had let him sit in the back, close to the wall so no one could sit behind him and growl or kick or anything. But none of the presented alphas in class were jerks to any of the presented omegas in class, so he’d felt a little more comfortable by the end of the day. “My teacher doesn’t suck.”

“Good. 'Doesn't suck' is high praise coming from you.”

“Whatever.” No one had really talked to him still, but that was way better than being bullied. “We don’t have any homework today. He gave us tons of class time to finish stuff.”

“Wow. You sure that was your teacher and not just a really tall student?”

Warlock rolled his eyes. “You’re weird,” he accused, a wet nose suddenly pressing against his cheek and surprising a laugh out of him.

Aziraphale’s tail wagged at the flare of delight in the pup’s scent. It really had been a good day for him.

“Alright, you two, get in,” Crowley said with a laugh. “We're holdin' up traffic as it is.”

“He’s so bossy,” Warlock muttered and Aziraphale stepped back enough to transform.

Smiling, he picked up Warlock’s bag for him. “He’s allowed to be bossy. He’s an adult.”

“So I can boss him around when I’m an adult.”

“You can certainly try, duck.” Aziraphale ushered him into the backseat, tail still cheerfully wagging. “But I don’t think it will do you much good.”

“I don't know how you can call me bossy when your mother was ten times worse than I ever am.” He could still remember how she always had to be the one picking games and making the rules. Crowley was still baffled at how she ended up with domineering Thad.

“Yeah, but I, like, never had to listen to her. It's not like she ever checked to make sure I did what she said.” Neither parent ever had. He buckled his seat belt and took his bag back from Aziraphale. “You guys do.”

“Of course we do. It's called parenting.”

Warlock's eyes rolled, but he supposed Crowley wasn't wrong about that. And after a year he was fairly used to it from him and he was starting to get used to it from Aziraphale too. The rhythmic thumping of his tail was a nice way to keep the beat with the radio, something that put him at ease enough that he forgot to stare out the window when Crowley made that first turn onto the road.

“What are we doing tonight? Since I don't have homework and all.”

“Good question!” Crowley was going to double check the no homework thing, but he could give the kid the benefit of the doubt for now. “Was there anything in particular you wanted to do?”

“I don’t know. Like. Not really. Are we going to the bookshop or home?”

Crowley stole a glance at Aziraphale beside him and while he didn't necessarily want to invite himself over… “Well, if Aziraphale doesn't mind, we could go to the shop. Been a hot minute since we spent much time there.”

Because it was so easy for them to leave and not take him along, which was not an insecure fear Aziraphale wanted to divulge. Eventually - perhaps that very night - he was going to have to sleep in his own nest again. “That would be lovely. It's sorely lacking the scents of my favourite omegas.” He smiled, a little sheepish. “And I likely have groceries which are in dire need of use. Since we'll be busy tomorrow night, I'll whip up some dinner.”

“Oohh, I do love myself some Aziraphale cooking.”

Aziraphale laughed while Warlock rolled his eyes and slumped back. They both thought he was ridiculous and they both, in their own ways, loved him.

“Wait. Where are we going tomorrow?”

Chapter Text

Aziraphale had said it was a casual dinner, that he didn't need to be dressed up, that there wouldn't be any snobbish silverware test or other rich people things Crowley couldn't think of. That didn't mean he wasn't still a bundle of nerves just thinking about it. The fanciest dinner he could ever remember going to was Harriet and Thad's wedding dinner, but at least he'd known the expectations for a wedding dinner. He'd worn his best suit and black tie and got drunk enough to not care about which fork or spoon he was supposed to use.

At least he could blame Aziraphale if he somehow showed up underdressed. The turtleneck he tugged the neck of was black and fitted and would hopefully be getting peeled off of him later. It also had the added bonus of looking nice while still being casual, because as much as Lise was a friend, she was also a client he needed to keep impressing.

Now he just had to keep his cool and not make a fool of himself and everything would be perfect.

“Why are you being weird?” Warlock wondered from the passenger seat, eyeing him with a frown. He was acting the same way he had before his and Aziraphale’s first date. It was just twice as irritating because he'd had to “change into something nice.” He knew what that meant, and it sucked. It always had. “And why'd you wear that dumb shirt if you're just gonna tug at it?”

“I'm not being weird. You're being weird.” He let go of his shirt to change gears. He wasn't used to having something around his neck, it just felt a little odd. “And I wore it because it looks nice and it's warm.”

“Whatever.” He didn't want to go to someone's stupid house. Not if he had to look nice to go. He'd never had to dress nice for Aziraphale, so didn't get why he had to for one of Aziraphale's friends. Maybe she was a friend like how his dad used to have. Not a genuine friend, but just someone to impress. Someone to show off a nice, well-behaved family to. And he didn't want to be shown off like some stupid trophy.

When they stopped at the bookshop, he slunk down in his seat. “I don't want to sit in the back.”

Crowley pressed his lips together. He knew from experience that Warlock usually got contrary and challenged routine when he was annoyed or upset at something. “Well, I don't care who's where, but you’ll have to ask Aziraphale if he's okay being in the back.”

“It's your car. You can tell him to sit wherever you want.”

“Yeah, I can, and when you're in your car you can make demands. It's not very fair to Aziraphale to be put in the back like that with no explanation, so you're gonna have to ask him yourself.”

Warlock just sank deeper into the seat. He just wouldn't move at all then, he decided, unable to see Aziraphale bustle out of his shop when they stopped. He waved cheerfully at Crowley after locking up, looking this way and that before crossing the street towards them and smiling brightly when Crowley stepped out of the car.

Though it softened considerably as he got a whiff of his scent. “Oh, my dear, what is it?”

“Just antsy, I'm fine.” Crowley pulled him close and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Might have to fight a sulky pup for the front seat, though.”

“Has something happened? Is he alright?”

Crowley shrugged. “Beats me. Hasn't said why he's being a sourpuss yet.”

“Asking him is out of the question or is he not answering?”

“Haven't tried yet.” Though it was usually hit-or-miss if you could get him to answer.

And Crowley usually tried quickly, so the moodiness must've been a new occurrence. Or they were both too wrapped up in their thoughts and nerves to be themselves. “Then I'll sit in the back, Crowley. It's alright. He could be as nervous as you.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Though Crowley figured he had more to worry about than the pup did. Regardless, Crowley stepped back and pulled his seat down. “Watch your head, angel, it's a bit of a squeeze.”

“I'll be alright, pet.” Aziraphale kissed his cheek before slipping into the back. He didn't scoot behind Warlock, wanting to be able to see the pouty pup.

He looked back at Aziraphale, surprised that there hadn't been any sort of argument about it. Aziraphale only smiled at him as Crowley straightened the seat and climbed back in. “Goodness. Neither of you smell your best, do you?”

Warlock pushed himself up on the seat so he could look out the windows, several anxieties twisting together inside. “I guess not. Whatever. Does it matter?” he demanded, watching Aziraphale’s brows rise.

Crowley closed his eyes for just a moment and started the car. “Warlock, if there's something bothering you, it's kinder to say so instead of taking it out on us.”

He stared out the window, not answering. He didn't know how to say it. He didn't know what to do.

“Do you not want to go out tonight, duck?” Aziraphale asked and dark hair whipped in front of Warlock's eyes, he turned so fast.

“What?”

“If you want to stay home instead, that's alright. I'll tell Mrs. Gordon you aren't comfortable, and we won't go.”

His brow furrowed. “That's a lie.”

“Oh, Warlock...”

“Pup, when have Aziraphale or I ever lied to you?”

“I don't know,” he muttered. “Whatever.”

It felt like they weren't getting anywhere. “Warlock, if you really don't want to go we can just go back to the bookshop and order takeout. It's alright, but Aziraphale and I can't do anything if we don't know what's wrong.”

“He can't show us off if we don't go,” he mumbled, confused.

Crowley frowned, brow furrowed above his glasses. “Show us off? What do you mean show us off?”

Warlock's shoulders jerked helplessly. “Like, y'know, like- show us off. Like how- how dad used to do. To impress clients or whatever. And he'd just say they were friends. But they were just jerks mom and I had to be nice to and I hated it and I don't want to do it!”

Ah. There was the truth of it and Crowley softened a little. “This isn't like that, pup. Mrs. Gordon is a childhood friend of Aziraphale's, they grew up together, and I've met her already.”

“But you're selling her house and stuff.”

“Warlock, he's doing it as a favour to me and as a way to improve both of your lives.” Aziraphale smiled softly when suspicious eyes turned his way. The poor pup had been hurt in so many ways, even before their deaths, and honesty seemed to be the way to go. “Yes, I'm going to... Well. I wouldn't call it 'showing you off,' but I have told her about you. And I'm very proud and happy that the two of you are in my life. She just wants to meet you and have her pups meet you. As for being on your best behaviour, I think Crowley and I would both expect you not to be rude or mean. And that only requires you be yourself.”

“Why can't they come to the bookshop or the flat then?”

“Because five pups and five adults in either of our spaces would be very cramped and because she invited us to her home.”

Warlock looked at Crowley, some of his upset starting to twist its way into guilt. “Then why are you being so weird about going? If you already know her and stuff.”

Now it was Crowley’s turn to shove his shoulders up to his ears. “Because she's still a client and her house is worth more money than I will ever see in my lifetime.”

Aziraphale folded his hands, going very quiet. “I'm- I'm so sorry. I should've realised there would be a conflict of interest for you, Crowley. And with Warlock so uncomfortable with it as well, I- We don't have to go. We can stay home. Really.”

“No, angel, it's-” Crowley sighed and made a few aborted tries to explain before finding the right words. “It's- You know I'm an anxious mess on a good day. I like Lise, I do, I'm just still worried about being my best in front of someone who not only is a professional client but someone who means a great deal to you and exists in a social class I can only dream about putting a toe in. It's just multiple things for me to worry about, it's fine.”

“She does mean a great deal to me, but so do you. I love both of you very much, and I would never want to put either of you in an uncomfortable position. I never would've imagined a simple dinner with them would cause so much strife. I-”

“It's not a fancy thing?” Warlock interrupted.

“Of course not. It's going to be us, Lise's in-laws, Lise, and her four pups. The oldest is in university and the youngest is eight. She has a daughter your age, and I-” His hands fluttered helplessly. “If you like them, we can visit again but at their home in the country.”

“If I like them?”

“Well- well, yes. Crowley’s already met Lise, as he said. I know he would go along with me on a visit.” Aziraphale’s nervous hands rubbed against his thighs. “It isn't about impressing anyone, duck. I consider these people family, so I want you to like them. You just have to meet them first.”

Warlock shrank down, quickly turning to face forward again. There was something new in Aziraphale's scent, something scary that made guilt churn in his stomach. There was worry, which he was a little familiar with, but the hurt tangled in it was new. He'd basically called Aziraphale a liar and had accused him of being like his dad.

“Okay,” he said quietly.

Crowley felt like he very much wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. His stupid problems had made everyone upset and caused issues just like he always did. “I'm sorry, Warlock.” Crowley forced up a smile when Warlock whipped his head around to look at him. “I'm sorry my illogical anxieties made you worried and upset. I never wanted that to happen.”

He was still wary, but he jerked his shoulders. Crowley being weird wasn’t new and Aziraphale had yet to let him down. He could behave and see what was going on before he freaked out. “If I hate them, can we leave?”

“Of course, duck. Without any hesitation, I promise you. Even if you don’t hate them and just feel overwhelmed, I’ll do whatever you need. And that goes for you as well, Crowley. Lise will understand.”

“I'll be fine once we get there, angel. Don't worry about me.”

“Of course I’m going to worry about you, pet.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. He was grown and could handle one little dinner. There would just be a few new people in a big fancy house that he was trying to sell. He'd be fine. Probably.

And when they pulled up to Lise's home Crowley was doing his best to keep his scent as light and even as possible. There was no reason to make Warlock or Aziraphale more upset than he already had

Warlock was, of course, out of the car like it was on fire the second they were parked and Crowley rolled his eyes while he climbed out. He pulled the seat down and offered Aziraphale his hand. “Here, can be a bit tricky getting out of there.”

“It’s easier when I have more legs.” Aziraphale smiled as he stepped out, letting his omega hover and help him avoid bumping his head. “Thank you. And you look beautiful tonight. I hope you didn’t spend too much time picking these clothes out,” he teased, kissing Crowley’s cheek.

“Only about an hour or so, no time at all,” Crowley teased back. He did preen a little, though and couldn't deny that hoping Aziraphale liked the way he looked had been the deciding factor.

“Well, you made a very nice selection.” Aziraphale reached up to fluff Crowley’s hair and adjust his collar, a little too aware that there was a tiny wolf and not a human boy huddled at their feet. Nerves had won. “You’re very handsome, my darling.”

Crowley grabbed his hand before it could fall away entirely and pressed a kiss to his palm. “I do like to look my best for you.”

“You always do.” Aziraphale didn’t take a step back, but glanced down meaningfully at Warlock. He didn’t know if he was welcome to pick him up, uncertain with him in a way he hadn’t been in a very long while.

“Hey.” Crowley gave Aziraphale a little nudge and smiled encouragingly when his eyes flicked back up. “Go on, you gotta trust he'll let you know if he really doesn't wanna be picked up.”

Aziraphale pressed his lips together briefly, but when he stooped down, Warlock let him bundle him close against his chest. He sent Crowley a relieved look, smile small. He wanted nothing more than for his omegas to be alright and happy. The scent of stress was a distressing one for him, but he was sure they would be alright with Lise. “Alright, in we go. And I’ll hold you as long as you need, duck.”

Crowley hoped it wouldn't be very long once they got inside and looped an arm through Aziraphale’s, hoping his close presence helped soothe the both of them. “He'll be fine, angel.”

Warlock grunted in something like disagreement, but Aziraphale nodded. He was unsurprised to see the door swing open before they’d made it across the street. “There you are! Punctual even with a pup to consider.” Lise sighed heavily. “I don’t know how you manage it.”

“Having one instead of four,” Aziraphale replied, adjusting Warlock when he tried to hide against his chest. “Although I seem to recall you were late for things even when you only had Oliver.” A habit she'd always hated and had constantly tried her best to avoid.

“My Ollie,” she cooed. “He’s here, you know. Took a weekend trip just for me. Isn’t he lovely? Darling? Wondrous?”

“Considerate,” Aziraphale supplied, and she waved him away.

“That’s so dull, my love,” she complained and threw her hands out to Crowley the moment they were close enough. “Hello, darling! So lovely to see you again, looking as dashing as ever.”

“With considerable effort, I promise you.” He let her kiss both cheeks after she drew him in. “And we would have been later but Aziraphale claims it's not as fashionable as I think.”

“It isn’t. Besides, Lise frets and, much like you, lies that she doesn’t.”

“You’re a cruel man, Aziraphale Za-” He cut her off with a sharp look and she beamed, big and bold and bright. “I would hug you, but I see your hands are full.” She gave Warlock a cheerful little wave, not put off at all when his ears pinned back. “Now you just stay just like that, my sweet. Wolf time is very precious. My youngest is running about on four legs himself, the silly thing. Now come inside, all of you. We’re still waiting on Sandra and Carole, but the pups are all here. They stayed the night in their old bedrooms and they will tonight as well. But we’ll make everything presentable for you again, Crowley. Don’t you worry about that for even a moment.”

“I have no doubt that you will, Lise,” Crowley said as they followed her inside, as she hadn't stopped for barely a moment. Full of energy and constantly on the move in some way. Crowley was quick to take Aziraphale’s coat once the door shut behind them, keeping from jostling Warlock too much while he got used to all the new smells and sounds. “If he gets too wriggly I can take him.”

“I know you will.” Aziraphale kissed his cheek and touched his arm before he stepped back as two golden-furred pups streaked by. “I believe those were Robin and Cassandra. She’s the only girl and she presented just before Eugene passed. She was very early.”

“Christ.” The pounding patter of their paws on the tile more like a mini stampede. And if the clacking could be believed… “Sounds like someone needs a claw trim.”

“Robin, perhaps, if he’s as resistant to it as he used to be.”

“Of course he is, the little devil. It’s on my to-do list, but I made a horrendous mistake and gave the staff today and tomorrow off so I haven’t had a moment’s peace.”

“Oh, Lise.” Aziraphale shook his head. “Do you need help in the kitchen?”

“From you, my love, always. But you stay out here, behave like a guest, introduce your little family to mine. You’ll know where to find me and any and all blood-curdling screams from that direction can be ignored.”

Crowley laughed and shook his head along with Aziraphale. “My help is always up as well. I'm just as handy as Aziraphale in a kitchen.”

“I’ll certainly keep that in mind,” she laughed, bending abruptly to scruff the two running pups. “There we are. Say hello to Uncle Aziraphale now and, Robin, I want you to go find Ollie. You’ll destroy the floors.”

The boy changed abruptly, blond, skinny as a rail, and pouting deeply. “No, I won’t,” he whined.

“You’re absolutely right. Because you’re going to find your brother and you’re going to get that nail trim before your grandparents arrive or else.”

“Yes, mum,” he sighed gustily. “Hi, Uncle Aziraphale.”

He chuckled. “There’s nothing I enjoy more than a scowled greeting. But hello to you too, Robin. And you, Cassandra.”

“It’s Cassie, Uncle,” she corrected. Though a little taller than her brother, she could’ve been his twin besides.

“Pardon me. This is Crowley and young Warlock. He’s eleven as well.”

She waved, and Warlock’s ears wobbled uncertainly. They didn’t really act how he’d expected them to. None of them did. And the scent of omega was a soothing one, the only alpha adult he could make out at all Aziraphale. And this Lise person was cooking for everyone even though she had servants? It was very weird, very outside of Warlock’s expectations, and he was tempted to turn back just to see what else might happen. He ended up letting out a little bark of acknowledgement, but stayed safe in Aziraphale’s arms.

Lise beamed. “Now off with the pair of you. Robin-”

“Go to Ollie,” he sighed, “I know.”

“Knowing and doing are two very different things.” But she let them both go. “Now I’m off. I hope you don’t think I’m terribly rude, Crowley. Drinks are available. Aziraphale tells me you like wine. Pour yourself a glass whenever you like. Take a bottle when you leave. Warlock, there’s water and sodas and juice. Whenever you’re ready, sweetheart.” She whirled and scurried off to the kitchen as a timer began to blare and a young man yelled for her.

It was like being left after a whirlwind. Crowley had no idea how Lise managed being so chaotic all the time and he shared a small, knowing smile with Aziraphale. “Well I certainly hope she has better wine to give away than Harriet did.”

“She certainly does. Cassie, where's Gene?”

“He says he's pretending to be a rug in the lift, but mum just says he's being dramatic.” She shrugged, the ends of short hair not quite reaching her shoulders. “When I need the lift, I just ignore him.”

“Well, thank you for the warning. And you can go back to being a wolf now if you like.”

“Will you play later?” she asked, hands clasping together beneath her chin. “Please.”

“Of course, dear girl. But you run along and play. We'll keep an eye out for your grandparents.”

She popped back into a wolf, shaking her fur out before bounding off to pester her little brother and ensure he actually did let Ollie trim his nails.

Aziraphale gently stroked Warlock's back. “They aren't so bad yet, are they?” he murmured, the little wolf head shaking no before he tucked his head on Aziraphale’s arm.

“Just give him some time, angel.” That he wasn't actively trying to hide was a good sign. Though Crowley figured he'd be sorely tempted to change himself before the night was over.

“I am, pet, really. Why don’t you sit and take him? I’ll pour us that wine.”

“Sure thing.” And it was almost comical how Warlock pressed even closer and resisted Crowley’s attempts at getting his hands around him, but he did eventually manage to wrangle Warlock away from Aziraphale and got him tucked into his arms. Crowley understood, he did, but honestly.

Aziraphale smiled, leaning down to kiss the top of his fuzzy head and then captured Crowley’s lips. “I love both of you very much. You’re doing wonderfully.”

“Mm. I love you, too.” He pulled Aziraphale back to kiss again, soft and just on the very edge of chaste, until a bark between them had them separating with barely contained smiles. “And so does he, even if he won't say it.”

“I know.” Aziraphale stroked his back gently before stepping away. “I mean it now. Sit or take him to the conservatory and tell him your ideas while he can’t verbally whine about how bored he is,” he teased, Warlock’s little pink tongue sticking out at them.

“I think that's a good idea, actually. Less people up there.” The conservatory was probably also quieter, a thought that solidified when… Cassie? Did another lap and almost careened into a corner. Crowley shook his head at Aziraphale's retreating back and his happily wagging tail. He couldn't imagine having this many pups but he supposed the general chaos of it fit Lise well.

He had to stop short before the stairs up to the conservatory to let Cassie race by once again and huffed. “Watching her run just makes me tired, pup.” He wasn't about to tell any pups to stop their playing, though. They'd probably sleep well tonight after tiring themselves out.

Up in the glass conservatory Crowley pulled out a comfortable chair and pursed his lips at the fogged up portions of the glass walls. It was clearly too warm inside and too cool outside for a very good view in the evenings. Something he hadn't considered until right that second.

Warlock wiggled until Crowley gave up and put him down on the floor, transforming just to sit on the floor with his back pressed against the side of the chair. “I thought there were supposed to be plants in conservatories.”

“There are, this one isn't done yet.”

He hugged his knees to his chest, glad Crowley wasn’t pestering him. “Who’s gonna finish it if she’s selling?”

Crowley sighed and let his head fall back. “She asked me to do it before it's sold. Honestly it'd be better to just let the new owners do it, but Lise is insistent.”

“I bet if she saw your whole plant room, she’d insist even more.”

“Already a lost cause, pup. Aziraphale showed her pictures of it.”

“He was probably bragging about you.”

“Yeeeaaah, probably, and now I'm having to put in extra work for this garden.” Crowley made a dramatic sigh and slumped in his chair. “The things I do for love.”

Warlock looked up. “I mean, you could’ve just said no.”

“I know that and I was gonna, but… Aziraphale thinks I can do a good job and I wanna at least try. For him.”

Warlock was quiet for a moment, staring at the fogged green glass. “You do a lot for him, right?”

Crowley frowned at the bare and, frankly, sad looking garden. “I, er… I guess? I like Aziraphale, I want to do things for him.”

“I like him too. He says he loves me and then he… he acts like it too.” Warlock frowned, huddling himself in a little more. “I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings or anything.”

Ah, there's what was bothering him. Crowley reached down to blindly ruffle his long hair. “I know you didn't mean to and he does too, but I think he'd like to hear that from you.”

“There’s too many people.” And he didn’t know them. And the kids called Aziraphale their uncle. So they were like real family he’d known forever. “Are you mad at me?”

“Nah,” was Crowley’s honest answer. “Not your fault you took my worries and interpreted them the only way you could.”

“He’s not like my dad, like, at all.”

“Aziraphale is nothing like Thad. I wouldn’t be dating him if he was, but I can see why you might have thought this was like the fancy networking dinners your parents used to go to.”

“I just don’t like being… I don’t like being a- a- a thing.”

Oh, yes, Crowley could understand that very well. “Neither do I, pup. I hope you trust I wouldn’t put up with that sort of thing.”

“Usually, but you were freaking out.”

Crowley groaned, head thunking against the back of the chair. “I wasn’t freaking out. I have anxiety. There’s a difference.”

“It smells the same,” Warlock muttered.

“You can’t rely on smell for everything. It only tells you so much.”

“Figuring out what is hard, though,” he complained, staying right where he was when that familiar alpha scent wafted closer.

He offered Crowley a wine glass, then smiled as cheerfully at Warlock as ever while offering a soda. “Here we are, duck. I was hoping you’d be ready for this by now. Still upset?”

“No.”

Crowley gave Warlock a discreet nudge with the toe of his boot and was all too happy to take the offered wine. He’d just have to remember to pace himself before dinner. Getting drunk would just be embarrassing. “He’s just pouting now.”

“I’m not pouting,” he mumbled, cracking open the soda. “M’sorry I hurt your feelings and whatever.”

Aziraphale knelt beside him and patted his knee. “You’re forgiven, duck. Crowley and I should’ve explained tonight better, and it isn’t your fault you have such upsetting associations to these things.”

“Yeah, I forgot Thad and Harriet did fancy shindigs all the time.”

“The house is big, but this doesn’t really… Her pups are allowed to be wolves.” And she’d been just fine with him being that way too. She hadn’t called him rude or anything. “So it just feels like- like normal.”

Crowley sipped his wine and hummed. “Lise is surprisingly down to earth for someone with more money than she knows what to do with.”

“You can thank her husband for some of that. Eugene grew up… well, we’ll just say they were on very different financial spectrums. The first few times we took him places, he would find the cheapest things on menus and order them even if it wasn’t something he particularly enjoyed. I started noticing that pattern, but didn’t think I should say something until he started turning down invitations with reasons like ‘I haven’t been paid this week’ and such. Lise was baffled. Once she asked the poor boy why he didn’t just ask his parents for an earlier allowance and he didn’t speak to her for three weeks. She was distraught.”

“Oh my god. Thank Someone he set her straight eventually.” Crowley shook his head, sympathizing with Eugene a great deal. “I think I would’ve said some not very nice things were it me.”

“Yes, well, I did warn her. But she didn’t have the benefit of having mothers who encouraged me to work and earn my own way. I won’t say my mothers didn’t help me quite a bit, but I understood how the world worked quite a bit better than she did. Now she’s trying to raise her pups to understand that as well. She doesn’t rely on servants for every little thing, she pays those she does hire very well, and she expresses openly that they are not like most people in the world.”

“Well that’s good. Too often rich kids just don’t know how the real world works, their parents get so caught up in the money and the lifestyle, real world skills and knowledge just goes by the wayside.”

“Yes…” Aziraphale cleared his throat. “In any case, her in-laws should be here shortly. Warlock, would you like to meet the pups properly before they arrive?”

He shrugged. “I guess.”

Crowley rolled his head to smile down at the both of them, loving the sight of his little family. “You don't have to until you're ready. No one'll think bad of you.”

He fiddled with the tab of his soda. “Is Mrs. Gordon gonna grab me and kiss my face like she did Crowley?”

“No, duck. I told her you don’t like being touched, and she’s going to be respectful of that.”

“Okay. Can I say hi to her first?”

Aziraphale’s smile bloomed, bright enough to soothe most of Warlock’s remaining worries over whether or not Aziraphale was upset with him. “You most certainly can.”

Crowley gave his hair another fond ruffle and clambered to his feet. “Well let's get it over with then. Before the in-laws get here and the introductions start all over again.”

Rising, Aziraphale chuckled. “Yes. Though now that we're in here at night, I'm surprised by how foggy the glass is. It definitely needs some plants in here to distract from that.”

“Oh, definitely. I’m sure in the summer it’s not as bad, but the temperature difference isn’t doing all this glass any favors.”

“It seems like the client is right about needing this room filled,” Aziraphale teased.

Crowley rolled his eyes and leaned heavily into Aziraphale. “Oh, hush. I’ve already got about half a plan drafted. I’ll finish it up and show it to Lise on Monday and if she likes it I’ll start buying everything. Thank Someone it’s gonna all be on her dime.”

Aziraphale started to laugh, but a small hand wormed its way into one of his and, for a moment, he couldn't breathe. Warlock had never taken his hand. He always reached for Crowley’s. He looked at his omega with wide eyes, sure he wasn't supposed to make any sort of acknowledgement but unable to avoid some sort of confirmation that this momentous thing was happening.

Yes, it was happening. And Crowley gave him a small, secret smile. He understood completely. The first time Warlock had reached from him out of his own volition Crowley had thought his heart would give out. “What’s that, angel? Laughing at the hardship your darling friend is putting me through?”

Aziraphale worked up a smile, telling himself he wasn't going to cry. “Of course I am. It's hardly a hardship at all.”

“Yeah, you're gonna get paid to play around in dirt with plants and stuff. It's, like, one of your favorite things to do.”

“Just because I like getting a little dirty doesn’t mean it isn’t work.”

“Fun work is better than boring work,” Warlock insisted.

Aziraphale squeezed his hand, leading him out of the conservatory as if he wasn't still awed the pup was holding on. “Very true, my dear. But he doesn't have much time to finish. Just one week and then it's time for Autumn break.”

“That'll be cool. No school is good.”

“Of course you’d say that,” Crowley murmured, head shaking as he followed them down. “Barely been to school as it is.”

“I could get home schooled instead,” he suggested, though it was taken as seriously as it had been all the other times Warlock had done so.

He fell quiet as they drew near the kitchen, though, nerves rising. What if she was different to someone who was person-shaped than to someone wolf-shaped? What if it had all been an act?

What if he didn't like her cooking? Was he allowed to say or did he have to just deal with it? What if she put a side on his plate that he didn't like? Would she get mad if he didn't eat it? What if she was meaner than Aziraphale and Crowley seemed to think?

He found himself hidden more behind Aziraphale than by his side as they approached the knife-wielding omega. She looked over and beamed at them, even him. “I hope everyone likes a good roast. It's been in the oven most of the day, but I'm just about done with hors d'oeuvres. Crowley, darling, try one. Your hands aren't full at the moment. Here. They're spanakopita pockets.”

Crowley had no choice but to take the triangle pastry that was shoved right into his hand, still warm from being in the oven. He’d never heard of ‘spanakopita’ but it wasn’t like there was much he didn’t like. On the first bite the pastry was flaky, in thin layers that held melted feta and… “Mmm- Lise that’s good. The spinach was a surprise but I like it.”

“Was it? Someone's never heard of spanakopita before. I'm surprised Aziraphale hasn't expanded your palate.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “I haven't made, nor taken them for Greek food. And, judging by narrow eyes, I'm not sure our pup is particularly fond of spinach.”

“It's gross and slimy,” he confirmed.

Lise laughed. “It certainly can be, sweetheart. Do you like ham and swiss?”

“Um. I mean, yeah.”

“Then you can taste test the pinwheels.” She presented a small tray and Warlock looked up at Aziraphale first before releasing his hand and taking one. He pressed himself closer to the alpha and took a bite. He didn't offer an opinion but the second bite said more than enough for Lise. “Oh, good! I so rarely cook for anyone besides my pups anymore. It's lovely to know you like it.”

“Bit hard to go wrong with ham and cheese, Lise.”

“Oh, darling, everyone has their own tastes.” Lise returned the tray to the counter and smiled down at Warlock. “Now, little sweet, you probably don't know a thing about me, do you?” He shook his head and she smiled brightly. “That's alright, but terribly unfair! I know all sorts of things about you. These two talk about you so much, I feel as if we're old friends.”

He shrugged. He absolutely didn't feel like that, but at least she wasn't talking to him like he was some puppy. She talked to him the same way she did everyone else, and it wasn't that weird fake cheerfulness most adults used on pups.

“So,” Lise continued, “if you have any questions for me - anything at all - you can ask and I'll answer.”

Anything didn't seem honest. No one ever meant that. So fear and burgeoning annoyance had the first rude question he could think of popping out, “What's it like losing an alpha?”

Crowley’s head swiveled around so fast it almost came clean off. His initial reaction was to scold, that was one of the least polite questions he could have asked, but… he had received a pretty big loss of his own. Crowley just sighed instead and pinched the bridge of his nose below his glasses. “Could you've at least warmed up to that?”

“She said anything.”

Lise waved off Crowley’s concern and the apology written all over Aziraphale’s face. “I did, indeed. That includes the hard questions.” And she, too, knew he'd lost his family. “It's very hard. It makes me terribly sad or angry when I'm, frankly, not used to either. His scent is fading from my nest at the country home, and it's... It's gone here and I'll never get it back. So it feels like losing him again.” She took Aziraphale’s hand when he offered it, smile soft. “Oh, you're always a gentleman. You were born in the wrong era, my love.”

“I wouldn't have any of you had I been born another time, so I'm satisfied.”

“That's right. Them stuffy Victorian fuckers ain't allowed to have you.”

“My sassy omega. They wouldn't at all know what to do with you,” Aziraphale teased.

Crowley wrinkled his nose and took a long drink of his wine. “Probably end up forcibly married off and miserable unless I manged to fuck off into the woods to never be seen again. No, I like modern day much better thank you very much.”

Aziraphale liked to think if they were both in Victorian times, they'd find one another. He liked to think Crowley wouldn't be miserable at all married off to him.

But he couldn't voice any of that, unsure how Crowley would react. And, beyond that, Warlock had another question. “Are you, like, allowed to get another alpha?”

“Allowed?” Lise echoed. “Oh, sweetheart, you have all sorts of terrible ideas in your head. It's possible. It isn't anything I'm ready to think about, but there may be another alpha in my life one day. Or an omega or a beta. I could find another love, but that's up to me and not at all up to society to decide.”

“That's right and there's no rush, either. We're lucky to live in a time when we get to make these decisions for ourselves.”

“Yes, we are. And even though some alphas still have a problem when they see a Mark, I'm wise enough to avoid any of them.”

“Oohhh, I have no doubt about that,” Crowley said with a grin. “Bet those sort of arseholes have no idea what to do with an independent omega like you.”

“Darling, they didn't know what to do with me even before I was married. Did they, Aziraphale?”

“Oh, good Lord.”

“As much as I'd love to hear about those younger day escapades, I don't know how pup friendly they are.”

“But if I'm allowed to ask anything-”

“That doesn't entitle you to the answers,” Aziraphale interrupted, ruffling his hair.

“It should.”

“Absolutely not,” Crowley countered. “Besides, you don't even want those answers. It'll gross you out.”

Lise smiled wickedly. “Crowley, darling, just how uncouth do you believe I was in my youth?”

“You're friends with Tracy, you tellin' me it was all innocence till marriage?”

“Hang on. You're friends with Madame Tracy and Aziraphale?”

“I certainly am, sweetheart. Though I've known Aziraphale since I was still a puppy. You were still unsteady on two legs, weren't you? Your mums used to say you constantly reverted back. I have pictures of him carrying me about by my scruff and my tail is dragging along the floor because he wasn't tall enough to handle it.”

“Stubborn enough to try anyway, I'm afraid. Even then,” he admitted with a sigh.

Crowley could easily imagine that, even now it seemed sometimes Aziraphale preferred being wolf over being human. “Now don't forget you said you'd show me some of those pictures.”

“Oh, and I've got them ready.”

“Pictures of Aziraphale as a pup?” Warlock wondered, perking up.

“Heaven's sake, Lise, you can't really be considering doing this to me.”

“Oh, without any hesitation, my love. Now you take these trays to the table for the pups to start in on.” Her own ears popped, as dark as her hair and perked high. “I think I hear the door. You'll all excuse me, won't you? I'll fetch my photo album soon.”

“Sure, take your time.” Crowley smiled at her back as she bustled out of the kitchen then turned a mischievous grin on Aziraphale. “What's wrong, angel? I bet you made an adorable pup.”

“Hardly. I looked like a cotton wool ball with big paws until I grew into them.”

“And who says that isn't adorable?”

“Me.”

“Can I see them too?” Warlock wondered. He could hardly imagine Aziraphale being small.

He sighed, plucking up the tray of hors d'oeuvres. “If you must, duck. The pair of you are devils.”

“Devils you loooove,” Crowley sang at him, grin wide. “But of course you can see them, pup. I can't be the only one having all the fun.”

“Cool.”

Aziraphale huffed at them and flounced out, so Warlock stepped closer to Crowley. He didn't reach for his hand, his own cupping the soda can, but he was close enough to breathe in his familiar scent. “She's not so bad. I guess. She's kinda funny in a crazy way.”

“She is a little bit, yeah.” Crowley ruffled his hair until Warlock ducked out of the way. “Think you're ready to meet the pups?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Warlock rubbed the can between his palms, frowning. “I've never... Aziraphale's, like, the only one who, like, who's ever let me- Who, like, plays with me? As a wolf, I mean.” He stared hard at the can. “And they're playing. As wolves.”

Oh. Crowley swirled what was left in his glass and felt awful that he couldn't give Warlock that himself. His big failing as a parent and a romantic partner. “Are you, ah, worried they won't accept you like that?”

“I don't know. I'm not... I'm not part of their pack.” And no one liked him at school. He didn't know how to make friends, especially since everyone else made it look so easy.

“You don't have to be part of the pack to play. Sure looks like Cassie'd chase you regardless.”

“Like in a fun way?”

“Well yeah. If she chases you in a not fun way or if you don't like it you can come find me or Aziraphale. We'll always be nearby.”

“Okay. That's- Do I have to, like, ask her or-or- just change?”

“Just change and pounce on her. Play like you do with Aziraphale, just know she's going to chase and pounce back. If someone makes a hurt noise, stop and let them get their bearings. You'll do alright.”

“Okay. I guess. Okay.” Warlock puffed out his cheeks and pushed the soda at Crowley before changing. He immediately regretted it, feeling far too small, but he could hear excited barks and the toe of Crowley’s shoe gently nudged him forward so he trotted forward and nearly got bowled over by Cassie the moment he crossed from the kitchen to the living room.

She stopped, head cocking curiously before she dropped her front half to the floor and wagged her tail in invitation to play. So, even though he was trembling a little, Warlock pounced and they went rolling across the floor. It felt okay. It felt fun. When she growled, it was like a laugh and he let instinct take over. Just like playing with Aziraphale.

Who watched with a fond smile as the two of them tumbled along the wooden floor. He looked up at Crowley, the smile just as fond as the omega approached. “It's so nice to see him with someone his own age.”

Crowley nodded his agreement, snickering when Warlock attempted to pin the light furred pup but with his inexperience she was able to wriggle away easily. “Can say that again. Was beginning to worry he'd be attached to my hip till he becomes an adult.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “No. He just needs to feel safe.” He gestured towards the young omega sitting with an irritated pup in his lap. “This is Oliver. Oliver, this is Crowley.”

“Hi. Mum said you're dating Uncle Aziraphale? Apparently, that means you've good enough taste to sell the place.”

“Oh, your mother...”

“Well, I don't know about taste but if Aziraphale thinks I'm up to snuff I'm not about to argue.”

“He's always been picky, so I'd say that's alright.”

“I beg your pardon. I'm hardly picky.” Aziraphale straightened his waistcoat. “I have standards.”

“Don't I know it,” Crowley muttered, grinning widely when Aziraphale shot him a look. “And just my luck, I'm somehow meeting all of them.”

“You're satisfactory,” Aziraphale primly replied. “Now, Oliver, have you finished with poor Robin? He looks miserable.”

“No, he looks dramatic.” Ollie scratched his youngest sibling behind the ears. “Mum said to keep him until gran takes him since he tried biting me.” Little wolf ears went flat.

Crowley clicked his tongue and shook his head. “That's not a very nice thing to do to your brother now is it?”

A little pink tongue flicked out.

“He's always done it. Used to bite dad, even, til he got sick. But he's at least learned not to wiggle so much the clippers move.”

Crowley winced in sympathy at that. Everyone knew the pain of getting a nail trimmed too short. “You know fightin' it's only gonna make it worse, kid.”

He grumbled, clearly unhappy with the scolding as well as being trapped while his sister got to tumble about with someone new. He wanted to play too. It wasn't fair.

Ollie smiled. “Mum said Uncle Aziraphale used to be bad about his nails too.”

Aziraphale folded neatly manicured hands. “Your mother talks about me far too much, I should think.”

“Nah. She just misses you.”

“D'aw, angel.” Crowley leaned against him. “You should spend more time with your friend. I'm gonna be busy over here quite a lot anyway.”

“If she's here, I'll be happy to spend more time with her. Now that's more than enough about me.” Though Aziraphale turned and nuzzled Crowley fondly. “How's school, Oliver?”

“Dull. S'all introductory courses. We can't even go into the schools yet. I'm going for teaching,” he explained for Crowley’s benefit. “Same as dad and Uncle Aziraphale even though neither of 'em finished.”

“Your father had far more fun in business, though I have no idea why. He hated being trapped behind a desk.”

“Teachers are behind desks too,” Crowley pointed out. “But after our recent run-ins with awful educators I hope you stick with it.”

“I've been volunteering with primaries for a few years now, so I can tell you only the worst teachers are behind desks all day. And I have fun with the kids. And I can handle snippy parents.” He grinned at Aziraphale. “Got practice there.”

“Unfortunately for you.” Aziraphale shook his head, stealing Crowley’s wine to take a sip. “But I'm very proud of you, Oliver. You're going to be excellent.”

“Snippy parents, eh?” His arm snaked around Aziraphale’s waist and Crowley smiled at the way his tail wagged a little faster. “That sounds like a story.”

“One for Lise to tell. I'll just say that Warlock isn't the only pup I've known who's had to deal with bullying and parents who aren't doing their job correctly. At least in Oliver's case, the school handled things appropriately.”

“Good. No pup should have to put up with being bullied.”

“No. Mum went through the roof, just about. Yelling and growling. Dad held her back until the bloke's mum said it was his right as an alpha to be better than me.”

“Ah, yes. May you never see Lise angry, pet. It's quite the sight to behold.”

Crowley blew out a breath and shook his head. “Honestly, angel, if that headteacher had said the same thing about her pup and Warlock you might've had to hold me back from vaulting over her desk.”

Aziraphale slanted him a look. “I think you know I would've leapt with you.”

“Well good for her she didn't say something so fucking stupid.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale gasped, “language!”

“Wot? You've heard me say worse.”

“Not in front of an eight-year-old,” he huffed.

Crowley looked down at the pup who was looking up at him with perked ears. “Don't repeat that in front of your mother, alright?”

“Oh, good Lord.”

“Don’t worry, Uncle. If he does, we’ll just blame mum’s bad language.”

Aziraphale huffed again, stealing Crowley’s wine again and this time to keep. Though there was far too much fondness in the way he called them, “You hooligans.”

“There you are, my darlings!” Lise appeared like the whirlwind she was, the two older women behind her quietly amused. One leaned heavily on a gnarled cane that she thumped against the floor.

“And who’s this, then?” she wondered, her accent thick and far from higher London society. “Got yourself a young mister, Aziraphale?”

“I’m sure Lise has told you all about him, Ms. Carole.” Aziraphale rose to take her arm, guiding her to take his spot on the couch. “But I have indeed.”

She nodded, eyeing Crowley carefully. “Alright. Where’re you from, lad?”

Crowley smiled, not at all bothered by her critical once-over. “Scotland, grew up just south of Edinburgh.”

She swatted his knee with startling strength. “Thought you might’ve. A country lad, then, for this city one,” she huffed, turning that critical eye on Aziraphale.

He only arched a brow. “His parents were herders.”

She lit up brighter than a Christmas tree. “So was I! Sold the farm, we did. Didn’t we, Sandy? Gene bought us a fancy London home.”

“Well how 'bout that. Afraid mine's long sold already, parents couldn't keep up with it after I moved all the way down here.”

“Aye. Every pup’s got to live their own lives. We were never mad about our Gene wantin’ to teach or wantin’ to start a business or whatever else it was that pulled him along. He found himself a good family. Is yours the wee rascal runnin’ ‘round with Cassie?”

Crowley glanced over to where the two pups were playing a hardy game of chase around a table. “Yeah, that's my Warlock.” He shook his head at her arched eyebrows. “Don't look at me, his parents didn't consult me on the name. I'm just a cousin who's taken guardianship.” Though Harriet hadn't consulted Thad either, as he'd been in the middle of an 'important work meeting'.

“Lise wanted to name our Robin Blackbird, so I can sympathize.”

Lise beamed, not bothering to deny it. “Robin was a compromise between my Genie and I. All the names were compromises, actually.”

“My middle name was supposed to be Twist,” Ollie sighed.

“A nice literary name for your uncle,” she replied with a nod.

“I never asked for that,” Aziraphale protested. “Good Lord, Lise.”

Crowley laughed at the long-suffering way Aziraphale shook his head. “I don't know, Lise, I think he would have appreciated a Shakespeare reference more than a Dickens.”

“Or Oscar Wilde, hm?”

Aziraphale cleared his throat. “Anyway. Yes, Warlock is ours. His. I need more wine for this,” he decided, surrounded by too many amused omega scents.

“Angel,” Crowley called, taking his hand before Aziraphale was able to slip away. “We've already discussed this. He's yours too.”

They had discussed it, but not in the context of other people. He didn’t want to make assumptions, but that did feel good. It felt wonderful to be told that in front of people. People who were important to him. “Yes. You both are.”

There was a small audience watching them and Crowley felt his face warm when he brought Aziraphale’s hand up to kiss. “Bring me another glass and I'll be yours all evening.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “I have high hopes for much longer than an evening, pet.” He squeezed his hand and looked up, too pleased with him to be embarrassed. “Sandra, Carole - drinks?”

Sandy waved him off. “We’re alright, we are. You go on with those stars in your eyes.”

As he bounced off, tail wagging, Lise leaned down and pressed firm kisses to each of Crowley’s cheeks. “I hope you don’t mind inheriting a few more honourary family members, darling, because you have them. You and little Warlock.”

“It's not something I'm used to.” For the longest time Harriet had been the only one left decent enough to call family and it wasn't as if she'd been able to be around all that much. “But I think it'll grow on me.”

Chapter Text

“Now what was that supposed to be again?” Crowley muttered to himself, squinting at the sheet of printer paper in his hands like it contained the secrets of the universe. The multi-coloured lines and scribbles probably had some sort of meaning to them, but for the life of him he couldn't remember if red was walkways or if that was the yellow. He also wished he'd had the time to actually do a proper layout in AutoCAD but there was a showing in two days and their autumn break trip not long after that. There just wasn't enough time in the day to do everything.

The five hundred thousand pound check burning in his wallet wasn't helping nearly as much as the giver had hoped for. Supposed to be to “cover costs and anything else you might need, Crowley, darling.” Bloody rich people and their lack of understanding of how much things actually cost. What did she expect? Gold plated apples?

No, he knew what she was expecting and still wasn't entirely sure he was the right one for the job. His old, used tools looked pathetic from his point of view. Clippers and trowel and hand rake and all the others spread out among the few bags of fertiliser. Most of the plants were still in their plastic pots they came in from the nursery and the bushes he ordered would be arriving tomorrow but it still felt like such a big thing to be handed a space like this and be expected to make it look good enough to sell.

His own little garden and plant room was so much easier. At least if he screwed those up it was just his personal pride that took a hit.

He ended up tossing the paper on a table and dragging a wooden planter box out the glass doors and into the chilly autumn air. This was not the right time of year to be doing this but he went back for the fertiliser, most of which were still stacked up downstairs just inside the front door, and dragged that out too. He'd already lined the inside of the planter with plastic to protect the wood from rot and the first whiff of rich soil made his inner wolf want to just dump it all out and roll around in it. He poured it into the box instead, filling it about half way before going back again for the Lily of the Valley. They wouldn't be flowering till early spring but at least these mature ones would give the place some needed colour.

Crowley was just setting the fourth one when he heard footsteps on the stairs. “If that's you, Lise, I don't need anything to drink, thank you.”

“Thankfully for you, pet, Lise left as I was coming up the steps. She has an appointment with financial advisers and then something about desperately needing a salon for her wolfen half. Robin isn’t the only one in the pack who hates getting nails trimmed.”

“Aziraphale!” Crowley’s head popped up immediately, his wide smile freezing as Aziraphale stepped fully into the glass conservatory. The waistcoat and overcoat was missing, the sleeves of his light blue button up rolled up to his elbows and showing off the flex of muscle in the way he carried a bag of soil over his shoulder. Crowley cleared his throat against the want to bite those forearms. “Hey. Hi. Glad you could make it.”

“Yes. I apologise for not arriving sooner.” His tail wagged, the scent of soil and earth strong enough to ignite the same instincts as Crowley. Not to mention his omega looked thoroughly adorable with a smear of dirt across one cheek. “My meeting went well, thankfully. I was able to hand off quite a few chapters to my editor.”

“Oh, goodie.” Crowley propped his elbows up on the edge of the box. “Bet they're getting a good idea of what kind of character I am by now.”

“Ah. Well. I haven’t exactly told either of them who that particular character is based off of. I never share that information as it then has to go to a legal team for approval. Much easier to just say it’s all a coincidence.” He smiled, patting the bag he was hefting. “Where shall I put this?”

Of course he did, the bastard. “Ah, just there with the others, unless you wanna help fill these boxes.”

“How can I help?”

“Well, these boxes need to be a little over half filled before anything can be planted in them.”

“Alright. Have you something for me to open this with? I can handle that.”

“Oh! Yeah-” Crowley dug around in the back pocket of his ratty jeans to produce a small pocket knife. “Just slice 'em open. What doesn't get used here I'll take home to do some repotting.”

“Really?” Aziraphale took the knife, letting their hands brush. “So I’ll get to see you like this at the flat?”

Crowley peeked out over the top of his glasses and winked. “That is a distinct possibility.”

Aziraphale’s scent flared at the tease and the hint of those unique golden eyes. He truly was beautiful, even in jeans worn white at the stress points. “I’ll look forward to it, then.” Purring, he tore the edge of the bag open and began to fill the boxes as directed.

He should have been paying attention to planting the last few flowers, but it was a herculean task to tear his eyes away from where Aziraphale was manhandling the bag. His pale shirt was just thin enough to see the flex of muscle in his back and Crowley bit his lip against making any sort of noise. They were at a house intended to be sold for Someone's sake.

It took longer than it honestly should have for Crowley to get his box lilies planted properly and he was up and going back to the table for more flowers before he could get distracted again. “What do you think? The tulips or irises next?”

“I’m rather fond of tulips, actually.” Finished with the soil, Aziraphale wandered closer and laid a hand against the small of Crowley’s back. The scent of want mingled strongly with the outdoors, stirring the same primal something that had drawn him to Crowley before their picnic. “Irises are the ones that look a bit like lions?”

“L-lions?” Crowley felt his cheeks flush at the touch and had to clear his throat. “Oh, right, yeah I guess they kinda do.”

“Mmhm.” Aziraphale’s hand slid up his back, lifting his shirt just enough to bare a sliver of skin. “What is it you just planted? They're rather pretty.”

It was difficult to have any sort of higher brain function with Aziraphale’s alpha scent warring with the dirt and earth they'd just been moving. “They're, ah, Lily of the Valley. Little, you know, bells. When they flower.”

“Mm. They do look like bells.” Aziraphale leaned in and nuzzled the back of Crowley’s neck. “But they don't smell as sweet as you.”

Crowley let out a breathy laugh and tilted his head, he wasn't ignorant of the want in his alpha's scent but still a little surprised. “I think you're biassed.”

“Without any doubt. Tulips next, then?”

“Y-yeah. Whatever you'd like.”

Aziraphale kissed the back of his neck. “Tell me where to put the tray.”

He had to know what he was doing, he had to. Crowley refused to believe he didn't. “The, er, the box next to the one I just finished.”

“Do you need more soil in any of the other boxes?” he wondered, stepping away from Crowley to heft the tray of tulips with ease.

“Well, ah, all of 'em are gonna need to be filled. Just, you know, workin' my way through.” The tray was more awkward to carry than heavy but Crowley still liked watching him do it. He shouldn't be getting aroused by stupid gardening and yet.

“I think I've done a rather good job of filling so far. So why don't I finish that?” he asked, lashes fluttering.

Crowley wanted to huff at him but couldn't find it in himself to do so. “Plenty of things to fill around here,” he muttered instead, eyes never leaving the expanse of Aziraphale's backside when he bent to set the tray near one of the boxes.

“Oh, yes, I can see that. At least, ah... six more,” he mused, which was deliberately one more than there were empty planter boxes.

“Six,” Crowley repeated, eyebrows raised.

Aziraphale looked over his shoulder at him. “Six,” he growled.

Oh. That growl and that gaze had him pinned right where he was like a pretty little butterfly. Then Aziraphale smiled and turned back to his task as if he hadn’t just turned Crowley’s brain into scrambled eggs. Aziraphale was a bastard and Crowley loved him and he was going to let him bugger him silly here in the unfinished garden wasn't he? Yes, yes he was. Crowley shook his head in a futile attempt to clear it and figured two could play that game.

He deliberately went the long way around, tail appearing just as he passed Aziraphale and brushing against his fluffier one, to kneel at the box with the tulips. “Better not dawdle, then. No telling when Lise will be back to check on our progress.”

Aziraphale flicked his tail to keep it touching Crowley’s, fighting the urge to wag it. “I'll make quick work of things, my dear. Don't fret.”

“Who said I was fretting?” It felt a little like a game, keeping their tails just touching, while he dug the holes for the tulip sprouts. His fingers were going to be filthy, but the soil was loose enough he didn't need much else.

“Yes, yes, I know. My lovely omega doesn't fret. Not a care in the world.” But Aziraphale knew so much better than that. His lovely omega carried more worries than he deserved. Worries about Warlock - school, friends, adoption, happiness, well-being, etc. - worries about the very room they were in, the very building - would it sell, was he going to do a good job with these plants. He worried about what people thought of him, whether they respected or resented his independence as an omega. He worried, too, about being good enough.

And if all Aziraphale could do was distract and please to give Crowley some temporary relief from those worries - and something nice to think about every time he showed this room to prospective buyers - so be it. He'd gladly do so and, admittedly, not only for those unselfish reasons. He wanted and Crowley did too.

Crowley knew he wasn't fooling Aziraphale, he'd been audience to Crowley’s anxieties too many times to not know the truth. It didn't mean he wasn't going to pretend. It was better to focus on their flirty back and forth than on whether he was doing a good job or not. It was also just… nice to have someone here with him, someone who was interested and wanted to help. Someone who wanted to build up the garden he was planting instead of tearing it down. “Angel, have I ever told you how much I appreciate you supporting the things I like to do?”

“No?” Aziraphale set the bag of soil down. “But you don't need to. I like when you're happy, Crowley. I do love you.”

“I know you do. It's just- You don't have to be out here with me, you could be doing other things but you'd rather be here. And, I don't know, it means a lot.”

“You're welcome, I suppose, but I'm happy to be here. I'm not entirely sure I enjoy this sort of thing the way you do, but it's nice to see your vision coming together. It's very nice being able to share it with you.”

Crowley glanced over at him, tail curled around Aziraphale’s. “Thank you for trying anyway, even though it's not your thing.”

“I am happy to help you, pet, even if it's just carrying things or motivating you with insinuations of your being pinned to these heated floors.” Aziraphale smiled. “Apparently, I enjoy seeing you dirty.”

“Oh, I can definitely tell,” Crowley said with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “But disappointed that was just an insinuation.”

The smile warmed. “Crowley, don't be silly.”

“Silly? How am I silly?”

Aziraphale’s tail slid against Crowley’s, his purr low and inviting. “Just tell me when you're finished with those tulips.”

His tail twitched where they touched, cheeks going pink. That purr could get him to do most anything. “I'm trying but you're a grade A distraction.”

“I can't imagine why,” he teased, not able to keep the smile at bay, “though I'll be a bit worse if I'm done before you.”

“You are terrible!” Crowley announced, all fond. “Knew you were doing this on purpose.”

“I’ve no idea what you could possibly be referring to.” Aziraphale’s tail bumped Crowley’s as it wagged, his delight clear as he emptied the bag of soil into another box. “You’re the one being tempting.”

“You always say that.” Because he usually was. It was just too much fun to rile Aziraphale up as it usually ended with him pinned to the nearest surface the second they were alone. Crowley plucked up two more tulip sprouts and carefully placed them in their holes, snickering a little at the bulbs. Was it juvenile? Yes. Did he care? No.

“That I do.” Aziraphale set the empty bag aside and carefully wiped his hands on a rag. With Crowley knelt down, he settled himself right behind him and began to growl. Low and soft and possessive, instincts reaching for Crowley’s. “You’re filthy with sweat and soil, your tight clothes clinging to your skin and reminding me how easy you are to pick up and move into whatever position I want you to be in. Your tail is so soft and…” He reached out and let his fingers run through fur, watching Crowley fumble with tulip bulbs, and smiled. “Pullable.”

His hair was practically standing on end. How was he possibly supposed to focus with Aziraphale’s fingers carding through his fur and that low growl right behind him? It made him want to just lean back and let his alpha do anything he wanted. “Now who's being tempting?” Crowley managed, somehow succeeding in actually covering the bulbs in dirt.

“I don’t see anything wrong with mutual temptation,” Aziraphale murmured, rising to his knees and letting his hands encircle Crowley’s waist. “You’re doing a very good job with these. My good omega.”

Crowley shivered from the heat of Aziraphale's hands through his thin shirt, the way his thumbs pressed into the small of his back. He swallowed around his dry mouth and had to clear his throat to say anything. “Y-yeah? It's, ah, gonna look a little rough before everything really takes root.”

“Mm. I think that sort of look would do well in here. It’s nice to see something a little more unpolished but still beautiful. Still unique.” Something that was entirely Crowley. Aziraphale’s hands wandered, undoing the button and zip of Crowley’s denims. “The flowers were a very good choice. They’re so brightly coloured.”

“Ngk-” He was already half hard and well on his way to full with the way Aziraphale’s fingers brushed over his burgeoning erection. The touch was light, a tease over the cotton of his boxer shorts. He hadn't expected to be getting fondled in the middle of their mutual friend's garden. “A-angel…”

“No commentary?” Aziraphale wondered, easing the denim down his hips. “I'm complimenting your eye for flowers and plants, pet. You're very impressive.”

“Biassed,” Crowley gritted out, only to gasp at a nip of sharp teeth on the back of his neck. He flushed at the clear admonishment from his alpha. “It'sss okay, I guess.”

“You guess? Now you’re sounding like our petulant pup. Do you like what you’re doing in here?” he murmured, fingers stroking up his thighs and pushing up the legs of the boxers.

He was dragging it out on purpose, Crowley knew he was. Those plump fingers so close to where he wanted them stroking and touching but no matter how he squirmed they stayed right where they were. “Angel, come on.”

Aziraphale stilled entirely. “That isn’t an answer to the question.”

Crowley whined and clung to the edge of the wooden planter box, his tail swishing across Aziraphale’s chest. “Not fair.”

“That isn’t an answer to the question either. Would you change anything or are you satisfied with your ideas?”

“Y-yes, okay? Yes, I-I'd change some things.”

“There we are. That wasn’t so difficult.” Aziraphale rewarded him with a firm rub of his cock through cotton, smiling at the wild wiggle of his tail and the arch of his spine. “What would you change?”

He couldn't rut forward to get more relief or press back and find Aziraphale’s familiar length, not with the hand that gripped his hip and kept him exactly where Aziraphale wanted him. “I- ah- trellises. Against the glass. M-maybe some small trees. In pots.”

“Then we’ll do that. You have plenty to do it, Crowley. You can make this place special.” Aziraphale rolled his pants down, freeing his length. “Now finish the tulips, pet. As well as you can.”

Crowley didn't know how he was supposed to do anything with Aziraphale’s alpha scent so heavy with want in his nose. “A-alright.” One hand released its death grip on the box and when he looked down to grab the next tulip Crowley was struck with how obscene they must look. Him with his pants down and cock out while Aziraphale was still fully clothed behind him.

“Good boy,” Aziraphale purred, knowing exactly how debauched they looked and letting it fuel him. A hand slid down, a finger rubbing insistently against his entrance. He opened easily, already wet for him, and Aziraphale kissed the back of his neck. “My pretty omega. How full do you want to be?”

As full as he could be. Which, thus far, Aziraphale was always willing to give him. “You- hnng- You know I want all of you.” And just to prove his point he rocked back as far as Aziraphale would let him and groaned.

“I know, pet. I just like to hear you say it.” Aziraphale nudged him forward again, waiting for him to start moving tulips before he risked letting him go to open his trousers. He couldn't help the laugh when Crowley immediately pushed back to grind against him, though it was laced with a needy growl. “Insatiable thing. If these floors weren't heated, you'd certainly warm them right up.”

“Can't help that I want you.” Not to mention it was Aziraphale who'd started it, he was just giving in to what his alpha wanted. Though he almost dropped a flower when two fingers pushed in with very little warning.

Aziraphale chuckled against the back of his neck, spreading and thrusting his fingers. “And you'll get me. Keep going. I love watching you get your hands dirty.”

Crowley nodded, toes curling in his boots at the delicious stretch. It was difficult to keep focused on his task with Aziraphale’s fingers pushing into him and the puffs of his growls at his neck. He knew Aziraphale was watching the way his hands pushed the soil to cover the tulip bulbs, the pleased hum making his cheeks go pink and his tail wag without Crowley’s permission.

“I want you in my lap,” Aziraphale hummed, satisfied and drawing his clothes further down his legs with his free hand. “Squirming and writhing and taking exactly what you want. I want you to put those dirty hands on me. Wherever they fall.”

“Fffuck- yes.” Crowley shivered in the cool air, a great contrast to his overheated skin. “Whatever you want. Anything you- Ah!” Aziraphale’s fingers crooked and Crowley’s head fell back on his shoulder with a groan.

Aziraphale nuzzled his ears, kissing the backs of each to make them twitch before he withdrew his fingers and sat comfortably on the warm floor. “Anything we want, pet. Now come here.”

He didn't need to be told twice. Crowley turned, quick as a whip, and reached for Aziraphale’s powder blue shirt. Smears of dark brown were left across his chest as he fisted his hand there, more on his neck when a hand slid up and Crowley kissed him with a desperation he hadn't realised he had. He needed Aziraphale, needed the strong hands that encircled his waist, needed the rumbling growls he could feel between their chests. Needed everything.

And Aziraphale was eager to give, eager to let him have everything. He helped Crowley's bottoms disappear entirely, hauling him right back into his lap. He could feel dirt smear from Crowley’s cheek to his own, could smell the rich scent of soil and the contrasting softness of flowers. Instincts thundered, his ears perking as much as they could to listen to any and all sounds from his omega.

“I love you,” he gasped, pulling him down, spearing him open with a fierce need he could normally throttle. “Crowley. Mine.”

“Ah! Yesss!” There was no waiting, no tease or hesitation in the way he was steadily filled. It was bliss to be wanted that much, to be the reason his alpha lost some of his carefully managed control. “Yours, alpha, yours,” Crowley gasped into his mouth, fingers leaving streaks of dirt from where he gripped Aziraphale’s shoulders.

“Mine,” he growled, lips falling to the scent gland. He sucked sweet oil, letting it wash over his tongue, and whined hungrily. He didn't give Crowley or himself any time to adjust, the grip of his narrow waist bruising as he hiked him back up and down again. He wanted him, needed him. Loved him. His fangs scraped his throat, their own show of desperation.

Crowley whined, something high and needy and just as desperate as the fangs that threatened at his throat. Every sharp downward tug felt like he was being filled to the brim and Crowley wanted to overflow with it. He wanted to be Aziraphale’s, claimed and mated and belonging to an alpha that loved him this much. Crowley rolled his hips to meet him, felt Aziraphale’s hands tighten almost painfully, and buried his hands in golden curls. Mussing and dirtying them with his soil covered fingers. “And you're mine.”

“All yours. Mate,” he growled, losing his grip on everything but Crowley. The taste on his tongue, the sound of skin meeting skin in increasingly rapid thrusts, in the squeeze around his cock each and every time he filled his omega.

Even as rough and frantic as their coupling was, it still felt loved. Aziraphale's growls more protective than threatening and the grip on his waist never more than Crowley could handle. He knew what the insistent glide of Aziraphale's tongue across his throat meant and when fangs threatened a little too much Crowley cupped his jaw and lifted his head to bring their lips together. “Knot me, alpha. Know you want to, my mate.”

He wanted to bite him too, Mark him as his fully, but he understood the rejection. He made himself understand through the fog of instincts that told him he could and should make this omega do exactly as he wanted. He kissed him fiercely instead, driving up as well as he could and letting desperate, keening noises loose. His knot did eventually work its way into that tight rim, very quickly swelling to lock them together. “Omega,” he panted. “My good, ah, omega. So good.”

There wasn't anything better than being knotted by his alpha, held close and loved and having the sweet spot just inside pressed just so. It sent lightning up his spine, toes curling while he rocked and ground and took every ounce of pleasure Aziraphale could give him. His orgasm arrived quick and sharp, a bubble of pleasure that grew and grew until it burst and he shot come over Aziraphale’s belly and both of their chests.

It was enough for Aziraphale, the tight squeeze and the way Crowley’s head fell back on a pleasured howl. He spilled deep, teeth clicking as he snapped his jaw shut to avoid that tempting line of his throat.

He closed his eyes, holding Crowley close when he collapsed against him. His jaw ached, but his purrs rumbled low and easy for his omega.

Crowley clung to him, head tucked into his neck so he could breathe Aziraphale’s scent while everything settled. The alpha purrs made his tail wag, Crowley purring right along with him. Even if his knees were going to be smarting later, right now he was floating in too much bliss to care about that.

“Omega,” he murmured. “My omega.” He had to say it even if a part of himself, the part with an aching jaw and sharp fangs poking his lip, said it wasn’t completely true. It could be. It would be. He just had to wait. “I love you.”

“Mmm- Love you too.” Crowley nuzzled at his throat, smearing Aziraphale’s scent across his face. “I'll have to be careful getting all dirty in the future if it makes you this randy.”

“As if you didn’t get wide-eyed when I walked in with my sleeves rolled up,” he teased lightly.

“Forearms are sexy. Shut up.”

His tail swept across the floor. “I hope not everyone’s.”

Crowley smirked and brushed his lips against Aziraphale’s throat. “No, not everyone's. Only ones belonging to strong, handsome alphas.”

“Ah. Well. That does narrow it down.”

“Also liked seeing you dressed down a bit. More casual.”

“I’m not going to muck about with planting in my finest clothes,” he huffed. “Though my agent was quite startled that I arrived sans waistcoat.”

“Oh, I bet.” Crowley pulled back to look at him and grin. “You look like you actually belong in this century without the waistcoat,” he teased.

“Clearly, I need to return home before it’s time to fetch Warlock lest he get confused.” Aziraphale returned the smile, though his fangs glinted sharp and dangerous. “I’m a mess as it is besides.”

“Can say that again.” There was a smudge on his cheek that mirrored Crowley’s own, dirt streaks and handprints across his shirt, and specks all through his hair. “Might need more than a change of clothes, angel.”

“Well, thankfully I’ve been here enough that I do have a change of clothes in one of the bedrooms. And I know how to operate the showers.” Aziraphale cupped his waist and squeezed. “Though I believe I’ll hold off until we’re finished in here. We’ll also need to get - what was it? Trellises and trees.”

“Y-yeah, that's what I said.” Though his cheeks pinked in slight embarrassment. “I'll have to order 'em to be delivered. Can't exactly fit a tree in the Bentley.”

“No. Are you able to do that on your mobile?”

“Yeah. Can do almost anything on a mobile these days.”

“Where is your mobile?”

“It's…” Crowley furrowed his brow and had to think about where he'd tossed it. “Er… It should be on the table. I think? Have to wait a few minutes to check, I guess.”

“Well, nevermind that then.” It only took a small shift for Aziraphale to retrieve his own and offer it. “Find what you want and place the order.” He smiled, the expression soft even though his gaze was firm. “You are going to do exactly what you want in this room and nothing less.”

Crowley sighed but took the mobile from Aziraphale’s fingers. There really was no saying 'no' to him. “Dunno why you're being so insistent about this. Not like I'll get to enjoy it and the new owners'll probably hire an actual professional to tear it all up and redo it anyway.”

“I love you and I want you to see what you’re capable of. Even though it’s just us two, I know it’ll be far too beautiful for anyone to tear up and redo.”

“I'm already in love with you, angel, flattery's not-” He stopped, eyes going wide when he swiped to unlock Aziraphale’s mobile and his home screen was a picture of him and Warlock fast asleep on the bookshop's sofa. His tail wagged at the sight. “I didn't know you took our picture.”

“I have several photographs of the two of you.” Aziraphale rested his cheek on Crowley’s shoulder. “My little pack.”

They were a little pack, weren’t they? The two of them and Warlock. Maybe even part of an expanded one if Aziraphale’s friends continued to accept them. He ran his fingers through Aziraphale’s curls; they were still dirty but they'd be cleaning up later anyway. “Haven't really felt part of a pack since leaving home.”

“I know Lise has always considered me part of hers, but I haven’t really… I haven’t felt quite like I had my own since my mothers passed. You and Warlock have changed so much for me, pet.” Aziraphale kissed his neck. “Now make the telephone call or whatever it is you need to do while you’re trapped and unable to escape me.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Bossy alpha,” he muttered, pulling up his preferred nursery's website. “Don't even need to call, see?” He let Aziraphale watch him scroll the digital catalogue and paled a little at just how much tree saplings cost coupled with the pots and everything else. That it wasn't really his money being used was only a small comfort.

“You’ve done things like this before, haven’t you? Purchased things to stage a home? And were reimbursed in your commission or some such?”

Crowley glanced over the top of his glasses at him. Sometimes he was reminded that Aziraphale was just as rich as Lise. “Not exactly. I'll offer suggestions to sellers on how to stage and what sort of things help sell, but I'm not a home decorator. That's someone else's job, angel.”

“Oh. I didn’t realise this was so far outside of the scope of your normal duties. You’re being paid by your company, aren’t you?”

“Nooo, I don't make a dime until the place sells and I get my cut. Technically my company doesn't pay me, they just make sure I get the correct percentage of the final price.”

Aziraphale’s brow furrowed. “But you work so terribly hard. You should be paid for your time.”

“That's… not how being a real estate agent works, Aziraphale. Do you get paid based on time spent writing and researching and all that for your books?”

The logic of that kept him from puffing up too much, but he was still offended on Crowley’s behalf. “Not technically, but I do get advances. Besides, you deserve it. You work disproportionately hard for some clients over others.”

“You mean like how hard I'm working for this one?”

“Well...” Aziraphale’s ears pressed back, guilt rising. “Yes.”

“Angel…” Crowley cupped his cheek and pressed their foreheads together. “If I really didn't want to do this, I wouldn't and besides, Lise said I can keep whatever I don't use for this. So it's not like I'm not being compensated.”

“Oh, good. And she gave you enough to cover this and provide a fair salary?”

“Yes. More than, honestly. You'd think she had no idea how much plants actually cost.”

“Oh. With how you were looking at these listings, I was worried she'd given you too little. That would be terribly unlike her, but these things do happen.”

“No, no. Just never looked for trees before. Didn't realise how expensive they are. It's like two hundred pounds for a decently sized tree. I usually just get small houseplants.”

Aziraphale nodded, nudging him. “Then this is exciting. You get to play with something you normally don't, and I get to help you.”

“Yeah, alright, I guess.” He couldn't deny it wasn't at least a little fun to spruce the place up a bit. “I do like getting to hear what you think about it.”

“I genuinely think it's beautiful. That wasn't just something said in the heat of things. I am proud of you.”

Crowley was still trying to get used to so much praise being given so freely. He didn't know if he ever would. “I- Well- Thanks, I think.”

Aziraphale kissed his cheek. “Buy your plants, darling. If you'd like, I could ask Lise to ensure that she - and by she, I technically mean you - may enter before closing and take what you like. For your own plant room or the bookshop.”

“Yeah, yeah.” It only took a few seconds to sign in to his profile with the nursery and place the order, much larger than any other he'd ever placed. Well at least his favourite place was getting money, right? “Wouldn't mind moving some things to the bookshop. It could use a little green.”

“Mmhm. And a pretty omega to water whatever he brings it.” Aziraphale nuzzled his ears, pleased with him. “I want you to have fun with this, pet.”

“I know and I am. Sort of. This was fun!” He grinned at the unimpressed look Aziraphale gave him. “Really, though. It's not bad, just a little stressful. It'd be different if it was mine. But it's not, so…”

“I understand, my dear.” Or he thought he did. He'd enjoyed decorating the study, but there had always been a worry or two of three in the back of his mind. Would they like it? What if they didn't? What if they did? Should he decorate to his own tastes or theirs?

Why bother if he wouldn't be able to spend an evening in there curled up with someone else's bound hard work?

“Would you be angry if I bought you a house for your birthday?”

Crowley wheezed. “Angry? Noooo.” Stressed beyond imagining? Absolutely. Who got someone a house for their birthday? And what if Aziraphale got tired of him? He tried not to think things like that about Aziraphale, but what would he do with a house when the person who bought it was no longer interested? “Might give me a heart attack.”

Aziraphale chuckled, resting his chin on Crowley’s shoulder and keeping him close even as he felt the swell of his knot beginning to lessen. “Perhaps next year.”

If Aziraphale still wanted him around by then. “Heh, yeah. Hell of a birthday gift.”

“Mmhm. Though you’ll have to let me take Warlock somewhere without you one day soon so we can acquire your actual birthday gift.” Or gifts, as the case was likely to be. He already knew of one thing he wanted to give his omega.

“You're allowed to nab him whenever you want, angel. I trust you're not gonna run off with him.”

Aziraphale nuzzled him fondly. “The one time I did, you chased me.”

“Yes. I did,” Crowley said more than a little smug. “You weren't a trusted alpha yet. Couldn't let some mostly strange wolf make off with my pup.”

“It pleased me, you know. I wanted you to. I wanted this lovely omega who’d confused the devil out of me in our first meeting to show those strong, protective instincts.” Aziraphale stroked his back, purrs soft. “You impressed me and you have done since.”

Part of him wanted to preen at the praise and another was a little embarrassed. Impressing Aziraphale hadn’t been on his mind, at least not in that specific moment. “Dunno if I should be proud or apologetic about that first meeting but I'm leaning towards the former.”

“You can feel however you like about it, my dear. It’s all led to a very satisfying relationship.”

“Well I can definitely agree there.” Crowley pet the back of his neck and tried not to feel too bereft when Aziraphale slipped out and he was left empty. “Still can't believe you fucked me out here in the garden.”

He smiled, ears perked and tail swishing. “You seemed quite content with the proceedings.”

“Of course I was. Nothing better than getting buggered silly by my alpha.”

He was very happy to be Crowley’s alpha, his delight warm in his scent. “Well, Lise did say to make this place your own.”

Crowley’s cheeks heated. “This was not what she meant.” At least he was fairly sure this wasn't what she meant. “Thank Someone the scent won't last long out here, I can imagine how insufferable she'd be about it.”

“Endlessly. We’ll have to hide our shirts in your car, considering the mess you’ve made of them. I’ll allow you to borrow one of the shirts I have here.” He hummed. “I’ll have to empty that armoire at some point, come to think of it.”

“A whole armoire, angel? Really?”

“Oh, it’s hardly packed. There are just a few things tucked away. After Eugene passed, I stayed here when she and the pups needed a familiar alpha around. And, of course, before he passed, there were a few occasions wherein I drank a bit too much to safely navigate my way home. There was always a room available.”

“I can't imagine a situation in which there wouldn't have been an available room.” Crowley slipped off Aziraphale’s lap to the warm floor beneath them. “You have clothes at the flat, too.”

He never knew when Crowley was going to let him sleep there. It had been more often than not as of late, but that could change at any time. He wanted to be prepared. But, perhaps, it was seen as something pushy instead? “Is that a, ah, subtle suggestion that I need to take them home?”

“No! No. No, not unless you want to.” He liked being able to open that drawer and smell Aziraphale as if he were right there. “I don't mind. Not at all.”

“Alright. If I ever do become an imposition, do let me know.”

“You're not even close, angel, I promise. Please impose on me. I'm begging you.”

Aziraphale reached out and pulled him back into his lap, smile fond. “With pleasure.”

Crowley snuggled right in, nuzzling Aziraphale’s scent gland and spreading the oil across his nose and cheeks. He couldn't have a bite, but at least he could have this. “If Lise comes back and finds us like this we're both going to be embarrassed.”

“Without any doubt.” Aziraphale adjusted quickly and rose, holding Crowley's waist to keep him up. “I suppose we shouldn't get caught.”

“Aziraphale!” Crowley yelped, clinging to him with his trousers half off and a boot clinging to one foot. He looked ridiculous and hid his face in Aziraphale's shoulder. “You monster.”

“Mmhm.” Aziraphale wiggled the second boot off, leaving them both on the floor. “A monster who's about to treat you to what is likely the most decadent shower experience you've ever had.”

“...It's that good, eh?”

“In the guest bath, there are three separate shower heads,” Aziraphale revealed, carrying him towards the lift. “The two on either wall have different settings and the third is like a rainfall.”

“Oh my god. Rich people are insane.” Which wasn't a complaint. Not this time. “How big is the water heater- Actually, you know what? Don't tell me. I might never leave.”

Aziraphale laughed, nuzzling him fondly as he hit the button. “I don't know the answer anyway. You'll have to ask Lise. Tell her it's part of your job. There's also a tub. It could very comfortably fit four adults.” He smiled. “And there are jets.”

Crowley bit his tongue against saying anything about the only adults using that tub would be the two of them. He was selling it. He shouldn't be going and getting attached. “I don't want to know how you know it fits four.”

“A loose estimate. I haven't experienced bathtub orgies, I assure you.”

“Neither have I.” And he had no intention of changing that, he liked having Aziraphale all to himself. “You're gonna make me spoiled at this rate, angel.”

“My dear, I can't tell you enough how that's exactly what I want to do.” Aziraphale kissed his cheek as they left the lift. “No one's ever taken the time to make you feel as special and as important as you are.”

“Oh, stop that. I'm not all that important.”

“You have me and a certain pup who would disagree with you wholeheartedly.”

“You? Maybe. Warlock? No, I think he'd agree I'm just some bloke.”

“Ah, yes. Just some bloke who took him in when no one else wanted him. Who loves him in ways his own parents didn't.” The bathroom he carried Crowley into was large and decorated almost eerily like the master in Crowley’s flat. The tiles were shades of gray rather than black, however, and the modern amenities were high end. Aziraphale settled him on a counter and pulled Crowley’s shirt up and off. “Who fights for him and plays games with him and gives him the attention he deserves. Just some bloke indeed.”

The marble under his bare arse was cold and he pressed closer to Aziraphale’s warmth to counter it. If it also hid his face, that was only coincidence. “Just doin' what I feel's right. He's just a pup, I couldn't abandon him. Takin' Warlock in and bein' good to him was the right thing. That's all.”

“You're such a good parent, Crowley. Doing what's right and good isn't always easy, and we both know Warlock isn't an easy pup. He's difficult and stubborn. He jumps to conclusions easily, and he's filled with anxieties.” Aziraphale kissed the top of his head. “You're a good parent, a good mate, and I love you.”

Crowley whined from where he was hiding in Aziraphale's shoulder. He might have been the one saying all these things but Aziraphale was a safe place to hear it. He didn't have to be prickly and rough and bare his teeth, it was safe to be soft and gentle and expose his vulnerable underbelly. “I love you too.”

“I know you do, pet. You show me all the time. And you look very lovely against the marble. A beautiful splash of colour to brighten this room right up.”

“And my arse is warming this counter.”

Aziraphale laughed, captured his lips for a delighted kiss. “Yes.” He stepped back to unbutton his dirt-smeared shirt. “And you look beautiful doing so.”

Crowley leaned back to watch him, tail swishing. “The dirt's a good look on you, angel. You should get dirty with me more often.”

“Happily, though I'll need to find more clothes I'm willing to muss. Considering that I can't go tumbling about with you as a wolf.”

He winced, ears falling flat with the reminder that he couldn't do something as simple as change. Even bloody pups could do it, but not him. “Heh, yeah. Whole new wardrobe for you.”

“Now we won't go that far.” Aziraphale looked more worried about that idea than he did bothered at Crowley’s lack of transformations.

Crowley huffed out a laugh and nudged him with a foot. “You'll be a whole new man, angel.”

“Heaven forbid.” Aziraphale toed out of his oxfords. “I'm quite content as I am.”

“Good, because you're perfect as you are. Don't you let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“Not even you?” he wondered, smiling at the way Crowley watched his trousers fall. It was so difficult to be self-conscious when his omega looked at him with such approval, obvious even through dark lenses. He was so expressive even with them covering stunning golden eyes.

“As if I would ever say such lies and slander about my alpha.” He liked getting to watch Aziraphale undress. He was just so soft, like a living teddy bear that could also sling him over his shoulder at a moment's notice. “But I reserve the right to poke harmless fun at your grandpa pants.”

Aziraphale laughed, said pants following his trousers. “You're free to remove them whenever you like,” he teased.

Crowley slipped off the counter and right into Aziraphale’s waiting arms. “Now that's not true at all. I have to wait until we're alone.”

“Yes, you do. Because I love being able to see you like this, and I want to be the only one.”

“You're definitely the only one. Which means no more bathtub orgies for you.”

Aziraphale rubbed their noses together. “Good thing I only need you.”

“Very good thing,” Crowley murmured, walking him back step by step until Aziraphale’s back hit the grey tiled shower wall. “I'm not one for sharing.”

“Neither am I, my pretty omega.” Aziraphale kissed him, fierce and firm. “You're too precious.”

“Precious,” Crowley scoffed, smiling against Aziraphale’s mouth. “Haven't been called that since I was a little pup.”

“Now that isn't true. I've called you precious several times.” And he would as many times as Crowley could stand it. He wanted to help pull him away from self-doubt as much as possible.

He wouldn't call the garden a start, as he'd already been working towards that goal, but he would call it a very good step. Their relationship was a good thing for them both so long as he was helping Crowley as much as Crowley was helping him. They had a small, solid pack, and that was really the most important thing.

Chapter Text

“Darling,” Lise cooed a few days later, “it’s glorious. Fabulous. Superb.”

“It’s beautiful,” Aziraphale agreed, watching her wander amidst the greenery. There was a vegetable garden, potted trees with emerald leaves, blooming flowers that promised to come back again and again thanks in part to a previously unused irrigation system that Crowley had figured out with some Googling and a few phone calls to the original installers. He had to admit there was some personal pride in knowing he’d help put this together. He’d only encouraged and carried and occasionally bullied, but once Crowley had gotten those trees in and heard Lise squeal in delight, he’d seemed determined to do the best job he could.

There was even more pride in that. Aziraphale’s tail swished as cheerfully as could be, absolutely delighted that they’d gotten everything done just in time. It was beautiful, transforming an empty space into a garden one could be proud of. That one should be proud of. No one would rip this out, he was sure. No one could possibly dream of getting rid of a spot of Eden like this.

“It… is. It's a thing.” Crowley crossed his arms and leaned a hip against a vine covered trellis. Most of it all would go dormant and turn brown and brittle before winter was over but for now it could be the hidden away paradise it was supposed to be. “I'll update the listing's pictures tomorrow.” He'd just conveniently leave out that it wasn't actually done by any kind of professional.

“It is indeed a thing. A wonderful thing.” Lise whirled away from the lilies, beaming at him. “Really, darling, you did an exceptional job. If anyone comes in and dislikes it, we’ll just shoo them away. We’ll know they’re too shortsighted to cherish my home.”

Crowley rolled his eyes, not at all convinced. He couldn't think of a single person who'd bought a place that hadn't intended on changing at least something. “Whatever you want.”

“Oh, stop that. You should be proud of yourself. Tell him, Aziraphale.”

“I have, Lise.” Aziraphale stepped closer and leaned in to nuzzle Crowley’s cheek. “Many times.”

His cheeks pinked with the easy affection. “I'm just being realistic, but I'm glad my improvements are to your liking.”

“They are. It’s better than I imagined, to be perfectly and brutally honest with you. You were so shy about it, I thought I’d get something half-finished.”

Aziraphale cleared his throat, giving Crowley a sidelong, brows-lifted look. It had taken some… special encouragement to get Crowley to admit that he wanted to get more plants. “He didn’t want to disappoint.”

“And I didn't. Obviously.” And it wouldn't have been 'half-finished', it just… wouldn't have been as much as it ended up being. And he got some wonderful memories of being shoved to the ground and buggered silly out of it.

“How would you feel about doing something similar at the country home this summer?” she wondered. “It’s a tragedy I’m not keeping this. Truly.”

“Welll…” He almost groaned at her pleading eyes and dramatic pout. “Fine. Fine. But you're the one paying for all of it. Can't just do this for free, I've got bills to pay, you know.”

“Oh, darling, of course. You’ll also have to receive a wage. Obviously. Aziraphale, my love, I know you were indispensable here so we’ll have to work something out, you and I.”

“I’m a volunteer, Lise. Nothing more.”

“Oh, pish-posh and whatever other outdated dismissive things you like to say.”

“Aziraphale was absolutely indispensable in assuring everything was up to your high standards.”

Aziraphale huffed at him. “You’re just saying this as some sort of revenge scheme.”

“Why would you ever say something like that, angel?” Crowley asked, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“Because I know you very well.” Aziraphale slipped an arm around his waist. “And you have a beautiful, devious mind.”

“Ooohh, 'devious'. I like devious.”

Aziraphale tugged him closer, kissed his temple. “I thought you might. Now let’s go fetch our pup. I’m sure he’s as ready for his holiday as every other student.”

“Probably more than the others, I'd wager.” But at least there hadn't been any incidents at the new school. Getting him to do his homework was still an uphill battle but that wasn't anything new. “Now, Lise, if you see any of these bastards in here start turning brown or developing spots you shoot me a message. Can't let them start thinking just because I'm not here means they can run amok.”

“I will, of course. The two of you need to have a lovely vacation, though. You’ll adore Raphael’s cottage. It’s delightfully near the water.”

“I'm sure we'll love it. Been a little while since I've seen anything larger than the Thames.”

Aziraphale smiled. “It’ll likely be too cold to take a dip, but I’m sure Warlock would run along the beach with me. Assuming you’re willing to tolerate two very sandy wolves, pet.”

Crowley wrinkled his nose at him. “You'll be taking a very thorough bath before getting into bed with me. I put my foot down on sleeping in sandy sheets.”

Lise laughed. “Your pup’ll need quite a bath too. It may be cold, but you know he’ll still run through the water. Pups always think fur will protect them.”

“Yeeaaah, you're probably right about that. Hope your Raphael left a garden hose out. We'll just spray him down.”

Aziraphale smiled weakly at him and Lise just looked confused for a few seconds before laughing again. “A garden hose. Yes. Well, off the two of you go. You’ve a long drive ahead of you if you’re planning on leaving tonight.”

“We are.” It had been a nightmare getting Warlock to actually pack a bag last night, but he'd succeeded somehow. Crowley let Lise kiss both his cheeks and rolled his eyes fondly when she did the same to Aziraphale. “Come on, angel. Warlock'll have a fit if we're late to pick him up.”

“He certainly will, yes. Go home to your pups, Lise.” Aziraphale squeezed her hands. “Don’t you dare stay here alone.”

“I won’t, you bossy alpha.” She squeezed in turn, then released him and waved them along. “Off you go, the pair of you.”

“Mind how you go,” Aziraphale replied, giving in when Crowley took and tugged his hand. He laced their fingers as they walked through the house, sighing quietly. “She’s going to stay here tonight, I know she will.”

“Probably.” He could understand it, though. At least a little bit. He could easily imagine how lonely he would be if something happened to Aziraphale. “You should tell Tracy to pop over, make sure she's not alone.”

“A very good idea, pet. I’m sure she’d stop in without hesitation.”

“And they can be a couple of old hens and gossip about all the wild crazy sex we're going to have.”

“Oh? And will they be correct?”

Crowley wiggled his eyebrows and squeezed Aziraphale’s hand. “Could be. That depends on my alpha.”

Aziraphale chuckled, opening the front door for him. “You don’t want to savour the anticipation involved in celibacy before our cycle?”

“Why in the hell would I do something like that when I have a sexy as sin alpha to keep me taken care of?”

“Insatiable devil,” Aziraphale cooed, tail wagging as they made their way out and to the car.

It was still wagging when they picked Warlock up from school. It was a delight, at least in Aziraphale's opinion, to be able to. More of one that he no longer smelled frightened or upset or angry when he came to the car. He threw his bag as far across the seat as he could when he settled in, Aziraphale soon adjusting the seat so he could resettle in a spot that smelled more and more like him every day.

The Bentley no longer exclusively smelled of apples and omega, and it gave Aziraphale a wonderful sense of belonging. His little pack.

“How was school, duck?”

“Lame. But there's no homework for the whole break. My teacher said we should just enjoy our holiday.”

“Well that was nice of him.” Crowley glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “Did you turn everything in that we worked on this week?”

“Yes. My grades are gonna be on the website tomorrow.” And, admittedly, Warlock was worried about them. They were supposed to include his grades from the old school, and he knew he hadn't exactly been getting As. He knew what disappointing Crowley was like, knew that grades weren't the only thing that mattered to him. So a couple of Ds would just make him come talk to the teacher about what could be done. Aziraphale was still an unknown variable in that regard, especially since he'd been in school to be a teacher. The letters might matter more to him, and he didn't want to get scolded on vacation.

“Good.” Crowley tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. He'd been looking forward to this, hadn't had an actual vacation in years. Getting out of the city for a bit, no work or school to worry about. “Did Aziraphale tell you this place is right on the ocean?”

“No. It's a beach house?”

“I suppose. There's a little path through the woods that exits onto a beach ramp. The beach itself isn't private, but the pathway is.”

And, because Warlock wasn't quite as ignorant as Crowley, he realised, “So this is another rich friend's place.”

“Ah. Yes.”

Crowley blinked a few times and sighed. “This is going to be a lot fancier than the beach house I'm imagining, isn't it?”

“I'm not sure. I don't at all know what you're imagining.”

Warlock took his phone out to start playing one of his games. “How many bathrooms does it have?”

“Only two.” Aziraphale cleared his throat, able to see Warlock's unimpressed expression in the rearview mirror. “In the main house. There's another in the pool house.”

“There's a pool?”

“I can't imagine we'll make use of it considering the time of year, but it's heated. Oh, and there's a little hot tub.” Aziraphale smiled in Crowley’s direction. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Crowley suddenly very much wished there wasn't a pup coming with them. “Well you can certainly count me as surprised.” And now he also felt a bit like a country bumpkin for the garden hose comment.

“Do I get to choose which room I'm in?”

“Of course, duck. Though Crowley and I will be in the master bedroom. And don't fret. Raphael uses an excellent cleaning service. You won't be able to smell any previous guests whilst attempting to get your temporary nest settled.”

Warlock dropped his gaze to his game. “Cool.”

“Oh, good. Last hotel I stayed in, I had to air out the place it smelled so strongly of whoever had been in last.”

Aziraphale’s nose scrunched. “That sounds terrible.”

Crowley nodded his agreement. “It was the worst. I went down to the front desk and complained but all they did was spray some anti-scent stuff that did absolutely nothing.”

“Sounds like a crap hotel,” Warlock said, face still buried in his phone. Aziraphale had to swallow a laugh.

“It was the best I could afford at the time! Not everyone's made of money and can afford the best.”

Aziraphale reached out and patted his thigh. “In any case, you won't have to worry about such issues on this trip. We're going to have a lovely holiday.”

“I have no doubt about that.” The power of money, truely. It was still a little strange getting used to that sort of thing, but a smile tugged at Crowley’s mouth when he realised they were headed in a similar direction to where they'd had their picnic. They'd be going quite a bit further past it, of course, but he couldn't help the delight in his scent when they drove right past the right turn for it.

Aziraphale smiled, sharing a glance and a secret with his omega. When spring came and brought warmer weather with it, he was hopeful they could share another picnic. He was hopeful for a lot when it came to Crowley. “Wicked creature,” he murmured.

“What?” Crowley murmured back. “I'm allowed to be happy when reminded of our dates.”

“It was a lovely time, wasn't it? As soon as it's warmer, we should go again.”

“Absolutely.” He wouldn't ever turn down the chance to have a little date with Aziraphale. “Maybe next time we'll actually eat more of the food.”

“Perhaps. So long as we don't run out of time.” As they had thanks to their extra activities.

“Oh, I'll make sure we have plenty of time for everything.”

Of course he would, the scoundrel. Aziraphale smiled brightly and relaxed into easy conversation as they drove. There never seemed to be a shortage of topics with Crowley. He was clever and not afraid to disagree, and the banter was as fun as the rest of it.

In the backseat, Warlock listened. He didn't understand a lot of the references, but he understood tone and he'd been around a lot of arguing. He remembered the way his mom would mute her scent when it started to become too angry. Crowley never seemed to mute his for anything, but there was never anger in it when he and Aziraphale argued.

And Aziraphale’s scent, even when he was disagreeing with Crowley’s claim that da Vinci was the greatest artist ever and rattling off names Warlock had never even heard of, never sharpened with anger or rose to be overpowering either. They both just stayed light and happy, any flickers of true annoyance gone in a flash and leaving Warlock relieved and a little confused every time. Why didn't they get mad? Crowley stubbornly kept to his opinions on da Vinci and Aziraphale stubbornly explained why he was wrong, and they went off to the next topic.

Music was another place of disagreement, though they did agree that Mozart was brilliant and the 1980s film about him was an insult. Though Aziraphale flickered with annoyance when Crowley added, “At least it was funny.”

Aziraphale called him a child and, for a moment, Warlock thought they were going to start yelling, but they just never did. They didn't yell at each other. It was so different from his parents, yet also wildly different from how he'd thought relationships were supposed to be. His parents had argued all the time and been unhappy, so obviously you just weren't supposed to argue ever and you'd be happy. He'd never seen anyone argue without animosity, so he didn't know what to think or do about this.

Until he realised that he did this with Crowley and Aziraphale too. When he called them old and rolled his eyes at claims of immortality and, recently, vampirism. Or when he called them lame and whatever else and they just laughed and ruffled his hair. Or when they teased him for things and it didn't actually make him mad. It was just kinda... fun to pretend sometimes.

So this was... okay.

It was safe.

So, for the first time since the accident, Warlock relaxed fully in the car. No way the two people ahead of him would let anything dangerous happen. No way.

Aziraphale peeked back as they approached the cottage, finding the little black pup curled up under the seat belt, and smiled. A hand reached out and patted Crowley’s arm. “He's asleep,” he cooed.

“Oh?” Crowley peeked in the rearview mirror and didn't see a ducked down head. “He never sleeps in the car.” Even when he was bone tired and cranky about it, he stayed stubbornly awake.

“Really? Never?”

“Nah. Took almost half a year to get him comfortable enough to not constantly be on the lookout.”

“Mm. Afraid he'd be hit like his parents?”

“Yeah. He said he was looking down when it happened, so he started getting hypervigilant to compensate. I actually had to completely change how I drive after his first panic attack in here. Used to be more of a speeder, never used my signal, just awful.”

“I-” Aziraphale stopped, turned to look at Crowley with a furrowed brow. “He was what?”

“Er… You know. Looking down. In the car. When the accident happened.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale breathed, “he was in the car? With them?”

“Yeah?” Crowley frowned and blinked a few times. “Did… Warlock never tell you? They were just leaving the airport to come see me when it happened.”

“No, I... When we met and I realised he was leading me to the cemetery, I didn't pry. He told me his parents were killed in an accident, but nothing more. Certainly nothing about him being involved.” Aziraphale looked back at him, heart breaking anew for the sweet little pup. Well, the sarcastic little terror, but sweet nonetheless. “It's no wonder he's so frightened all the time.”

“He's getting better, though,” Crowley reminded him. It was still a work in progress, but who wasn't really? “The fact that he's actually asleep is testament to that.”

“Yes. He's certainly not on guard now. And he's so much more comfortable transforming than he used to be.”

“That's all thanks to you, honestly. Thad never liked changing, said it was 'undignified' and, well, you know my problems. You're the only one that's really made it okay.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I'm glad for that. I'm grateful that you've allowed me into his life, Crowley. He's a good pup.”

“Yeah, well, gotta have a positive influence to counteract my negative one.”

“An angel to your demon?”

Crowley snorted and had to keep himself from laughing out loud and risk waking up the pup in the back. “Exactly.”

“I thought as much.” Aziraphale’s smile brightened. “But I do deeply appreciate it. I cherish every moment with you both.”

“Even though I still think my man Leo was the greatest artist that ever lived?”

“Leo, is it? Knew him personally, did you?”

“Yeah, didn't I tell you? I modeled for some of his paintings. We were good chums.”

“You're absolutely ridiculous. You certainly did not. But, yes, I love spending time with you despite the fact that you are a liar and an exaggerator. And wrong about your preference in artists.”

Crowley cackled, delighted in the huff and the roll of Aziraphale's eyes. “No, you'd rather I like that old fusspot Michaelangelo.”

“Fusspot,” Aziraphale echoed with a cluck of the tongue. But he didn't want to rehash that argument again. “Now we're nearly there. Raphael may still be in to meet you, but he shouldn't stay long.”

“Oh? More of your friends to size me up and make sure I'm good enough for you?”

“He meets all of his guests,” Aziraphale replied primly. “Besides, he needs to give us keys.”

Crowley smiled and nodded sagely. “Oh, he has keys! I was almost expecting some fancy-shmancy electric lock that requires a pin or code to unlock.”

“There's a security system, of course, but it doesn't unlock the door.”

“No? Too bad. I've always wanted one of those.”

“Is that... true? Or is it some of your sarcasm?”

“Really! Did you know you can get ones with a little touch pad that lets you in with the touch of your nose when you're wolf? Noseprints are all unique, like fingerprints. It's brilliant.”

“Oh?” Aziraphale cocked his head to the side. “That sounds fascinating. Is it something you could install at the flat?”

“Er… not really, no. The building manager handles all our locks and things.”

Well, that halted Aziraphale’s forming plan. Though perhaps something could be installed at the bookshop? Something not very invasive. He'd have to discuss it with Warlock. “One day, perhaps.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Not that he could really use something like that, not as he was. “Gotta be somewhere that's not, you know, a flat first.”

“I did offer you a home for your birthday,” Aziraphale teased.

Crowley groaned dramatically. “You can't buy someone a house for their birthday! That's just ridiculous.”

“To you, perhaps. But I like to think... I like to think that you and I might- That is to say... I don't want to seem presumptuous. But I would hope-” Aziraphale took a deep breath, put at ease by Crowley’s patience. “I would hope that whatever home you next end up in, it's something you and I choose together.”

“O-oh.” Crowley squeezed the leather steering wheel just to make sure he was still in reality and not dreaming. Did that mean what he thought it meant? Did Aziraphale want to live with them? Full time and not just scattered nights together whenever they could manage it? “Well- I mean- That is- I wouldn't be opposed to picking something out. Together.”

So he'd do that, but not allow him to leave his Mark? Aziraphale linked his hands together and tried not to feel hurt. It was a good thing that he was even willing to consider moving in together. There was no need to feel let down. There just wasn't. “We'd have to discuss such a big step with Warlock.”

“Yes. Definitely. Though I imagine he'd be quite happy with that. He likes having you around.” And then, much quieter, “I do too.”

“I'm very glad for that, Crowley. Truly.”

“I know, it's just- I mean, are you sure you want to-” He waved a hand frantically between them but kept his eyes firmly on the road ahead. “With me? I mean, you're practically an angel and I'm just… a former sheep herder with too much anxiety and not enough caffeine.”

Aziraphale fell very quiet for a few seconds, hands rubbing against his own thighs. The fabric was soft and familiar enough to put him at ease. “If you asked to bite me during your heat, I would say yes,” he eventually, very softly, admitted.

“Y-you would?” Crowley whispered back. He didn't want Warlock to wake up but he needed to know. Biting Aziraphale hadn’t even crossed his mind, it hadn't ever been on the table before so there had been no reason to think it ever would be. “Aziraphale.”

“I don't tell you I love you lightly. I don't call you and Warlock my pack lightly. You're my tomorrow, my next week, my thirty years from now, God willing. If you want that sort of a commitment, it's yours.”

Crowley whined before he could stop himself, teeth clenched to keep any other embarrassing noises from escaping. He couldn't look over at Aziraphale because if he did he might not be able to look away again. “You can't say something like that while I'm driving. That's not fair.” And he definitely didn't intend on his tail appearing and slapping the side of the seat, but there it was. “Are you mad? Of course I want that. Why wouldn't I want that with you?”

Aziraphale chuckled. The sudden appearances of Crowley’s extras were happening more frequently too. “Sometimes, I'm not at all sure why you would. But you're happy when we're together, and so am I.”

“Well, I love you, so there's your reason why right there.” That he couldn't just launch himself across the centre console and wrap every limb he had around Aziraphale was more annoying than anything. “I have literally never been happier than when we're together. So, yeah, I'd like for you to stay around. Preferably forever.”

“Well, you'll be stuck here with me for the next two weeks. So we'll both know how likely that is to occur by the time Warlock returns to school.”

“I prefer to think of it as you stuck here with me.”

“Oh, pet, I won't be stuck with you until my rut,” Aziraphale teased. Though he had meant it. He couldn't expect or even rightfully want to Mark Crowley without accepting the same. And if, even in their modern times, an alpha being bitten before the omega was... unusual, so be it.

A shiver ran from the tops of Crowley’s black tipped ears to the very end of his tail. “I do believe that is the point, isn't it?”

“It certainly is.” Aziraphale reached out to pat his thigh, but the GPS announcement that they were nearly there interrupted him. “Goodness. Already?”

Crowley grinned, his tail making soft thumps on the side of his seat. “Really doesn't seem like a long drive when it's with good company, does it?”

“No. And you, pet, are excellent company.”

Crowley definitely agreed with that as he drove carefully through the little village their beach home was just on the other side of. He was unsurprised to see an antique shop, a record shop, and a used book store along the main road. His smile knowing when he heard Aziraphale’s tail speed up as they passed. “I predict shopping in our near future.”

Aziraphale’s lashes fluttered. Though they both knew he'd packed plenty of books, “It hardly hurts to add to, ah, the bookshop's inventory.”

“Add to but never take away, yes?”

Aziraphale’s smile and wagging tail was answer enough for that, and he perked up even more as they approached the charming cottage. The exterior was a pristine white nestled amidst trees, the dark roof bold against a sky painted in the pinks and purples of sunset. The windows of the top level were surrounded by ornate moulding.

“There it is. The garage is just around this way. And don't be intimidated by Raphael. He's quite gentle, I promise you.”

It was adorable, a true country cottage only double the size of what most sensible people would consider 'normal' for the average cottage. Crowley let out a breath as he drove around the side Aziraphale had mentioned and pulled into the driveway right next to an older lorry. “Christ, this is a nice place. Look'it that deck, is that where the pool is?”

“Oh, yes. I'll have to give you a proper tour after we take our things to our room.”

“Yeah, you don't want me getting lost.”

“If you do, I'll find you.” Aziraphale unbuckled his seat belt, smiling. “Pluck up Warlock, would you? If you're holding him, Raphael won't hug you.”

“Thanks for the warning.” Crowley exited the Bentley and was more than happy to scoop Warlock out of the back if it meant he got to avoid hugs from a stranger. He smiled at the huff and little grunt Warlock gave when he was picked up, but he settled easily with his snout tucked into the crook of Crowley’s neck.

Aziraphale adored them both, tail swishing as he watched them. He went ahead, though, to stop his friend from terrifying his omegas. Harmless, he was, but only by choice. Seconds after Aziraphale’s light knocks, the door swung open. The dark-skinned man who opened it filled the frame, tall and broad with a thick, spice-filled scent. It also carried a hint of meatiness that tended to make omegas salivate. The sort of scent that would've made him a king in times long past and was still desirable or enviable now.

“Zira!” he thundered, smile so very bright.

Content with himself and confident in Crowley’s love, Aziraphale accepted the firm embrace without a growl. He smiled, patting his back before stepping away. “Hello, dear fellow. Our pup nodded off in the back, I'm afraid, so Crowley has a hold of him. Kindly behave yourself.”

“Yes, of course. I can. Hello,” he greeted, his thunderclap voice trying to be a low rumble. “You must be Crowley. Zira tells me you're an estate agent?”

“I- Yeah, I am.” Crowley wasn't entirely sure what to make of this mountain of an alpha just yet. He was taller than Crowley, just a bit, and he wasn't all that used to having to look up. And the scent definitely made the wolf half of his brain sit up and pay attention, but the smile he wore was warm. “You must be Raphael.”

“Yes. This is my pack's old summer home. We rent it during the school year or when we're travelling.”

“Which is rarer than you just made it sound,” Aziraphale tsked. “He's a doctor, so his hours are quite... demanding.”

“I can't choose my schedule like our Zira.” A hand clapped on Aziraphale’s shoulder, firm but friendly. “But I go where I'm needed when the pups are out of school. Yours has a good scent. He's a strong little thing.”

Aziraphale’s tail cheerfully wagged. “He is, indeed.”

“Sleepy terror, more like,” Crowley murmured. “This looks like a nice place you have here. Aziraphale said 'seaside country cottage' and I admit I imagined something more… quaint, I think.”

“For someone with his way with words, one would think he'd use them better.”

Aziraphale’s chin lifted. “It is a seaside country cottage.”

“Angel, it's a seaside country manor in the shape of a cottage.”

“Well. Yes. Still a cottage, nevertheless.”

Raphael's laughter had Warlock adjusting in Crowley’s hold, grunting against his neck. “Leave it to you, Zira. Now I'll leave you to get adjusted. You remember the way around?”

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Raphael. I do so appreciate this.”

“I owed you a favour. Now we're even and can start the trading over again.” He passed Aziraphale a pair of keys, that wide grin still lighting his face. “Your dinner is in the oven, and you can call if you need anything. It's nice to have met you, Crowley. Lise told me good things about you-”

“Good Lord.”

“-and I believe her judgement more than Zira's here. So take care of him, and enjoy your stay.”

Crowley cackled, a hand going to Aziraphale’s back when they stepped aside for Raphael to pass. “No worries, I can promise he's in capable hands.”

Aziraphale slipped an arm around his waist and pulled him close, nuzzling him gently. “Terrible creature.”

“A terrible creature you love.”

Kissing his cheek, Aziraphale nuzzled him again. “Endlessly.”

“I see Lise was right about the neverending affection as well.” Raphael laughed again, keys jingling lightly as he unlocked the old lorry. “Enjoy yourselves.”

“We shall, Raphael. Thank you.”

Crowley smiled and waved when they were waved at, the lorry roaring to life. He barely lasted long enough for Raphael to pull out of the driveway before tucking his nose into Aziraphale’s jaw and breathing in his familiar scent. “I swear to Someone if you tell me that man doesn't turn into the biggest goddamn wolf anyone has ever seen, I won't believe you.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “He's much larger than I am.”

“Christ.”

Aziraphale cupped his chin to give him a firm kiss. “Indeed. Let's go in. You'll get cold if we're out here too long.”

“Alright, alright.” Yes, he would get cold, though he kept Aziraphale right where he was for a moment longer, enjoying his scent over any other alpha's. But when he stepped back it was to Aziraphale twining their fingers together and leading him inside. The front room wasn't nearly as large as he'd expected, the space dominated by a plush L-shaped sofa around a fireplace set into the middle of the room. There was a cute little blue painted desk in front of one of the windows that overlooked the front lawn and a little tv in a corner. Crowley thought they probably could have gotten a bigger one and put it above the fireplace, but what did he know? “This is adorable, even if it looks like it was decorated by someone who doesn't know how to utilise the small space.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “And here I thought you weren't an interior decorator.”

“I'm not. I'm just saying the sofa is way too big for this room.”

“He has twelve pups, Crowley.”

“Twelve?” Crowley wheezed and very quickly found himself sitting on the ottoman in front of the small tv. “That's not a pack, that's a small army.”

“Oh, yes, and it doesn't get better. The eldest is nine.”

Crowley understood that meant at least a set or two of multiples. Probably three. “Oh my god. Who even willingly does that?”

Aziraphale shrugged lightly. “He and his mate are quite... virile. Their pups also have two sets of grandparents who are more than willing to assist their only children.”

“Virile is certainly a word for that. At least they have help.” It still sounded like way too much to him. Warlock needed enough attention as it was, he couldn't imagine having enough time to give that many pups the time and attention they needed. “Whatever works for them, I guess.”

“Yes. They're happy and their pups are quite well-behaved. They occasionally visit with Lise at her country home. It's quite the experience, really.” Aziraphale cupped his cheek, smile soft. “I won't put you and Warlock through it, I promise you. I know, as kind as they are, that they would be extremely overwhelming to you both all at once.”

Crowley tilted his head into Aziraphale’s hand, nose brushing his wrist. “Just give us a warning first, that's all I ask.” He actually didn't mind pups in the general sense. They were fun to talk to once they grew out of the baby babble and started forming opinions. “Think Warlock would be more overwhelmed than me.”

“Perhaps. We'll have to see what the future holds.” Aziraphale gave him a gentle stroke. “Now I'll go fetch our things. There are four bedrooms. Two have two beds each, but I think Warlock may enjoy having a queen size to himself. The king is in the master bedroom.”

“And that's ours, of course.”

“Without a doubt. So off you pop. I'll lock the Bentley up.”

“Yes, yes. Bossy alpha,” Crowley teased. He handed off the key as he rose and kissed Aziraphale’s cheek just before he headed back outside.

Even with his mild complaints about the front room, it was a nice home. Classically built with just enough modern updates to not feel like you were roughing it. The kitchen was an eat-in deal with a large solid wood picnic table in the centre and pretty soft blue cabinets. He found the master downstairs and the backyard that it opened to, a line of trees just beyond the glass doors beckoning. The rest of the bedrooms were up a narrow flight of stairs that Crowley wondered how broad-shouldered Raphael managed to navigate on the regular. The room with the queen bed overlooked the pool with a little balcony and Crowley sat on the end. He didn't want to leave Warlock here in an unfamiliar place without at least something from his nest to wake up with.

It didn't take long for Aziraphale to find them. He had Warlock's school bag and his suitcase, his pillow and blanket settled inside to seal their scent. Warlock was still sound asleep, settled in Crowley’s lap with gentle fingers in his fur.

Aziraphale could barely even smile before he was a wolf himself. He padded over and rested his chin on Crowley’s knee with a low, pleased grumble. His omegas were so sweet.

“Hey handsome,” Crowley murmured, giving Aziraphale a scratch behind one floppy ear. “Thank you for bringing his things up.”

Aziraphale rumbled again, tail wagging. He nosed Warlock's side, one little eye opening only briefly before he was pushing his little nose against Aziraphale’s much bigger one and slipping right back to sleep. It became very obvious just how late he'd stayed up the night before in all of his excitement. Like any other pup might've.

Crowley chuckled, petting them both. “Why don't we get his blanket and pillow out of his bag and tuck him in up here till dinner's ready? Little blighter probably stayed up all night on his phone.”

Aziraphale licked Crowley’s fingers in agreement, then took a few wiggling steps back before transforming again. It was just so difficult to resist his wolfen form when there was another nearby, especially a member of his pack. He unzipped the suitcase to find Warlock's bedding, Crowley rising so he could make the bed. They settled him in together before stepping out, leaving the door cracked in case the usually quiet boy got loud.

“If he sleeps too long, he'll be up all night again.”

“Don't I know it.” But Crowley shrugged, unconcerned. “Eh, let him. We'll make sure he eats but it's not like we have anything planned for early morning anyway.”

“No. We don't have any real concrete plans for the entire day, do we? We can just... What is it? Vibrate?”

Crowley blinked at him a few times, not entirely sure what Aziraphale meant to say at first. “Angel… vibe. You mean vibe. You didn't tell me to bring any of the vibrating toys.”

“First of all, I would hope you would bring any and all such extras that you might like to include in our exploits. Second... ah. We can... Hm. Vibe sounds quite silly. I can't imagine why the youths enjoy it.”

“Ya know, it's just vibin'.” Crowley snickered at the way Aziraphale wrinkled his nose. “It's okay, angel, you can stick with your eighteenth century lingo.”

“Happily, thank you.” Aziraphale led the way down the stairs, tail swishing all the while. “In our home, what would be a must-have for you?”

“Er… you mean like when looking for a house, what would I want to have?”

“Not merely a want, pet. A must-have. Something you need to have in a home.”

Crowley hummed and followed Aziraphale into the kitchen, sliding onto the table's bench as he thought. “Well it obviously needs a roof. Electricity is a must have, as is central plumbing…”

“You are being far too practical.” Aziraphale turned the oven light on and checked. Whatever was being made smelled spicy and delicious, but it was hidden away by foil. “I would like a tucked away room for my most cherished of books with space enough to write and a comfortable loveseat for you and Warlock to lay on when you visit.”

“Angel, I think you and I have very different definitions of 'things a house absolutely has to have' and 'things I would really like to have'.”

“Crowley, my sweet omega, if I will not buy a house where that room isn't possible, that makes it something a house absolutely has to have. My own study is the equivalent of a front door. What is yours?”

They were clearly working with a completely different set of parameters for what a house 'must-have', but Crowley understood what he was asking for. He wanted something of a fantasy that was still possible. A large want that was considered a 'must-have' just because you had enough money to throw at the problem. “I- Well, I guess I'd like someplace with a space big enough to do more than I do now with my plants. Maybe grow some vegetables and a fruit tree or two.”

“That sounds lovely.” Aziraphale sat next to him and took his hands, squeezing gently. “You can have whatever you like, Crowley. Please understand that.”

Crowley squeezed his hand. “You'll make sure of that, will you?”

“Yes. I have no intention of having a mortgage, nor do I intend on moving again. You can help pay bills, since I already see you objecting to me purchasing the home.”

“It's just…” Crowley sighed and laid his head on Aziraphale's shoulder. What if Aziraphale changed his mind and left? Well, it would be his, technically. So what if he told Crowley to leave? He didn't really think Aziraphale would be that cruel, but the nagging worry was still there. “It's a lot. You know that, right?”

“I do, pet. I understand. I'm going to put your name on it as well. We can do any paperwork needed to make you feel better as well.” Aziraphale kissed his temple. “And we don't have to do anything straight away. I'll wait for you.”

That was the thing, though. He didn't want to make Aziraphale wait. He wanted it as much as he worried about it. “Okay. How do you always know exactly what to say to make me feel better?”

“I don't. I think our needs just happen to align well.”

“It still works.”

Aziraphale nuzzled him, nose nestling in his hair. “How lucky that I can soothe my omega,” he purred.

“'S not luck,” Crowley murmured. “You're good at it. And as much as my brain wants to worry and fret, I still know I can rely on you.”

“I want you to feel that way. Not because I don't want you to feel independent, but because I want- I want to help. I want to be there for you. I want to be your partner, and I don't want you to feel guilty or worried about taking the things I offer.”

“Believe me, I don't want to be worried about it. It's not something I can just turn off and on whenever I want.”

“I think that means you won't ever be spoiled rotten.” Aziraphale purred softly. “But perhaps I'll be able to spoil you a bit if I just keep at it.”

“How very alpha of you, angel,” Crowley teased. “Just keep trying to wear me down until I give in.”

“Yes. You will accept all of my affection and gifts.” Aziraphale nuzzled him playfully, tail beating. “My pretty omega.”

“I think this pretty omega needs more convincing.” Crowley tilted his head up to brush their noses together. “Now how is my alpha going to do that?”

“Mm... Making you buy things while on my knot worked well for the conservatory. I may start there.” Amused, their lips brushed. “With luck, you'll start expecting gifts.”

“Oh, will I? You sure you want to start something like that? I might actually start to develop something like expectations.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Or you'll get wet in grocery stores.”

Crowley flushed pink. “Oh my god. I'd have the attention of every alpha in the shop.”

“You certainly would.” He was going to soon anyway with his heat on the horizon and no Mark to prevent anyone from approaching. Aziraphale would just have to make sure his scent was as clear on Crowley as he could. Aziraphale nuzzled him again, breathing in those sweet caramel apples. “I suppose you'll have to accept gifts wherever they appear to avoid such a fate.”

“You are a terrible man, did you know that?” But his smile was happy and his arms wrapped easily around Aziraphale’s neck to keep him close to be kissed.

Aziraphale sank into it, tail wagging excitedly at the knowledge that they had two full weeks for this. Two weeks to be together with their pup. No school, no work, no court, no surprise visits - just them.

“Are you guys gonna do this the whole time?” Warlock complained from the doorway and the kiss broke as laughingly as it had begun.

Chapter Text

Warlock loved the beach. He never admitted to it, but it became quickly apparent when he started hinting at going every single day. On the fourth day, Aziraphale beat him to it. Much to Crowley’s amusement, Warlock awoke with a white wolf resting his muzzle on the bedspread.

He forgot to be annoyed with them for coming into his temporary room, eagerly transforming and happily getting scooped up by the scruff. There was a picnic basket already filled with breakfast snacks, picked up by Crowley on their way out the door, and Aziraphale put him down as they wandered along the path. It was safe as long as he stayed in their sight, and he happily ran ahead just so Aziraphale would follow and nuzzle and rumble. If they both wanted Crowley to play with them, neither of them said. Even though it was very hard to keep it quiet.

Crowley shook his head at the pair of them and was content to follow along behind at a more leisurely pace. It was nippy, but not yet cold - at least for someone human-shaped with no fur to speak of - and the path from the cottage to the beach went through one of the thinner parts of the nearby woods. It felt good to be out and about again. It felt good to watch the two members of his little pack chase and play in the sun-dappled shadows. Aziraphale never let Warlock get so far ahead that he lost sight of him so Crowley left corralling their rambunctious pup to his patient alpha.

Though at the first sound of waves and smell of salt Warlock was off like a bolt of lightning, dashing down the path and around the next corner. Crowley chuckled at Aziraphale's annoyed huff as he bounded off after him, he wasn't fooling anyone. Crowley knew Aziraphale’s wolf half was just as excited to go play as Warlock’s was.

The path ended at a small cliff with wooden stairs built into the side that led down to a secluded sandy beach. Crowley carefully made his way down, his boots not quite made for this sort of adventure but he was stubbornly refusing to change them out. He smiled at Aziraphale, waiting for him at the bottom, while Warlock seemed nervous about the water now that he was there. His paws made little prints in the sand as he danced nervously just at the edge where the tide met land.

He hadn't yet barrelled into it on all their trips, but it was clear he was working himself up to try.

Aziraphale pushed his head against Crowley’s hand as he passed by, purrs and grumbles low in that big chest. He ached to press against his omega, fur to fur, but he was satisfied by the scratches behind the ear and the scent of pup nearby.

“You didn't have to wait for me, you know.” It was mostly a tease that Aziraphale grumbled at him for as he walked beside him. Crowley understood that while, yes, Aziraphale was still as humanly intelligent as he was as a human, wolf brain wanted what it wanted and couldn't always be persuaded.

Wolf brain wanted Crowley. Aziraphale waited for him to spread out the blanket and set the basket on it, feet pap-pap-papping on the sand until he saw an opening to gently take hold of Crowley’s jacket sleeve and tug.

“Hey!” Crowley gasped as he was pulled right across the beach. There really was no resisting Aziraphale, though Crowley knew if he put up enough of a fight he'd be released, he trusted that. “What do you think you're doing?”

Aziraphale released him long enough to spin in a circle once, letting out a bark as he tossed his head towards Warlock. The pup had caught sight of them and his tail was wagging excitedly.

Ah. Crowley smiled and shook his head fondly. “Alright, alright, I'll play for a little bit but I am not getting in that cold water. You'll freeze my cute arse off.”

Aziraphale’s tail and ears both perked. It certainly was cute, as was the rest of him. But with a promise to play, Aziraphale streaked across the sand and snagged Warlock to roll with him across the damp sand. The pup yipped and wiggled, freeing himself because Aziraphale let him, then bolted for Crowley.

And Crowley had no issue scooping him right up. He was barely upright again before Aziraphale was there and crouched, ready to pounce. Were he any other alpha, Crowley would have been concerned about the great white wolf so focused on them but because he was Aziraphale Crowley turned and bolted down the beach. “Catch me if you can!”

Between Crowley’s boots and his only having two legs, it was easy for Aziraphale to keep pace. Running was the last thing he'd do in his human form, but it was easy like this. It was second nature. He let out a howl and, even though it was squeakier and rusty, Warlock managed to mimic the sound.

It was a terribly cute little noise and Crowley gave a breathless laugh. He was, unfortunately, not much of a runner either. Not as a human, anyway. As a wolf he'd been fast and quick on his feet, but that was around a decade ago now and he'd never managed to be nearly as agile on two legs. So it wasn't much of a surprise to him when his boots hit a particularly wet patch of sand and went right out from under him. He was able to right himself before anything too disastrous happened but that didn't stop a white wolfy muzzle from nudging his cheek and neck while his arse smarted. “I'm fine. I'm fine. Just a trip.”

Aziraphale grumbled, pacing back and forth a few times before he, too, had two legs. An arm slipped around Crowley’s waist to help him up, smile soft and apologetic. “You and those silly boots.”

“You didn't have to change back.” He felt a little bad about it and kissed Aziraphale’s cheek despite Warlock's little puppy grumbles.

“I can switch just as easily again, so don't fuss about that, pet.” Aziraphale poked Warlock's nose. “And none of that from you. If you want breakfast, you'll change as well.”

“Or we could just eat it all before he has a chance.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “We could.”

Warlock grumbled louder, small paws smacking Crowley’s arm in protest.

“Oh, stop that. As if I'd make you go hungry.”

“We wouldn't have packed a basket.” Aziraphale kept his arm around Crowley’s waist, though he knew very quickly that he hadn't twisted his ankle or anything. He should've known better, though, even in his other form. Crowley just couldn't rough about like he and Warlock could. It wasn't fair to ask him, no matter how terrible Aziraphale felt for leaving him out. It was a delicate balance and he constantly felt as if he was picking the wrong side.

He might not have twisted or broken anything but he winced as they sat on the blanket. And the second he set Warlock down the wolf pup was a boy again. Crowley ruffled his hair at the look he knew meant the pup was concerned about him but refused to say it. “I'm just fine, stop fretting.”

“I don't fret,” he shot back, mocking Crowley’s normal tone.

Aziraphale shook his head and pressed a kiss to Crowley’s temple. “Of course you're fine. It would take more than a small tumble to take you down.”

“Exactly!” Crowley pulled the basket closer and tossed Warlock a blueberry muffin. “Eat before swimming 'cause I guarantee you won't wanna after freezing your tail off in that cold water.”

Warlock looked at the water, watching the waves gently lapping at the shore. He really wanted to swim, the wolfen part of him eager. “I thought you weren't supposed to swim half an hour after eating or whatever.”

“That's just an old wives tale, pup. You won't get cramps and drown.”

Warlock sent him a sharp look, not liking the sound of that at all, but he did take a bite.

Aziraphale smiled, tucking Crowley into his side and taking the next offered muffin. “Thank you. And, Warlock, if you do try to drown, I'll fish you out. There'll be no injured pups on my watch.”

“See? Nothing to worry about.” Crowley fished out a chocolate muffin for himself. “You're in good hands… well, paws.”

“Most definitely paws. I'm not going into that water without fur.”

“I don't blame you one bit.”

Breakfast continued in an easy vein, teasing and chitchat and Warlock glancing at the ocean in increasing intervals until he finally just transformed and headbutted Aziraphale’s leg. There was no point in doing the same to Crowley’s.

“I know, duck. I'll still play,” he promised and smiled at Crowley. “You'll be alright here?”

The concern warmed him in the chilly morning and Crowley leaned in to leave a kiss on Aziraphale’s cheek. “I'll be just fine, angel. Go play and don't worry about me.”

“I'll always worry about you.” Aziraphale captured his lips, purrs soft. “I'll wear him out so you and I can finally test that hot tub.”

“Oh, fuck yes.” That sounded infinitely better than the freezing cold ocean. “Imma hold you to that.”

“You can hold me to whatever you like,” Aziraphale promised, kissing him once more before changing. He circled him, cold nose playfully and suddenly pressing into Crowley’s neck to nuzzle into his scent gland.

Crowley shivered, Aziraphale’s nose was cold but it was more from the scent of alpha wolf and the way Aziraphale’s large tongue licked across his throat. He wanted to change so badly, like an ache he couldn't soothe. Crowley reached back to scratch along his muzzle instead. “Go on, love. I'll be right here.”

Aziraphale licked his fingers before running off, scooping Warlock up and rolling across the sand with him. Squeaky howls and yips carried to Crowley, sounds of giddiness Warlock was normally “too cool” for. He let himself be as a wolf, surrendered to the instincts the way a pup ought. And Crowley was only able to watch him trip over massive paws and howl something like a laugh when Aziraphale pushed him onto his back and rubbed his big nose ticklingly against his little tummy. His pack was missing one.

Who was sitting with his arms around his legs and knees tucked under his chin while alpha and pup rolled and tumbled and played. They looked like they were having fun and everything in Crowley wanted to change and join them. That was his pack, little as it was, and he was being left out.

Crowley couldn't say it didn't hurt. No amount of reminding himself his isolation was technically self imposed could stop the way being alone while they played stung. He wanted to join them, wanted to help teach his pup how to interact with others, wanted to build his confidence. He wanted to brush up against Aziraphale and rub noses with him and be chased until he was caught. Crowley scrubbed any sort of hurt or longing right out of his scent, there was no need to go alerting anyone to his problems when he was the reason he even had those problems in the first place.

Still, he wanted.

A battle of his fears versus instinctual desires that waged silently within himself. It was the sort of battle he hadn't had in earnest for quite a while. Not since the early days when he was used to being a wolf whenever the mood struck and his fear was new. Fear had won the war back then and Crowley had learned to live with it.

He didn't want to just live with it now. He had a whole host of reasons to put up a stronger fight now that he had a pup and an alpha in a little pack of their own. He knew, on the surface, that Aziraphale would stay even if he never managed to change again but… Crowley couldn't imagine it was at all fair of him to give Aziraphale a Mark without ever at least trying to show him his wolf half. It was a whole part of himself he'd kept hidden and secret, even if it wasn't really by choice.

Aziraphale deserved to see it, he deserved to know everything he was taking on. And while Crowley watched Aziraphale encourage their little pup to take his first proper steps into the water and howl about how cold it was, Crowley resolved that he was going to try. He had to try. Just… not right this second. He'd work himself up to it.

The work up was obvious. Not to most, no. Crowley could be very good at hiding when he needed to be, but Aziraphale and Warlock each knew him very well. Warlock noticed his guardian being weird and, if not for a little alpha intervention, he would've said something by dinner that first day. He really wanted to the second, but Aziraphale distracted them all with the suggestion of a trip into town.

That night, though, when Warlock went to bed, it was only because Aziraphale promised to get to the bottom of things. And his way was... a little less rude than Warlock's tended towards.

“Pet,” he began, sidling up to Crowley’s side as he peered out the doors and into the fading Autumn garden, “what's the matter?”

“Hm?” He hadn't heard Aziraphale approach, quiet as he was, but liked the way an arm settled around his waist. It helped cement the repeated thoughts that he was safe, that this was a safe place to be. “What do you mean?”

“Warlock keeps whispering that you smell stale and that you aren't very good at covering it up.” Aziraphale kissed his temple, not mentioning that he agreed. “Therefore, I've been tasked with discovering what the matter is.”

“Ah. Thought I was doing a better job of hiding it.”

“You were, but you forget we both love you very much. And we know you far too well.” Aziraphale squeezed him a little closer. “You're enjoying our vacation, aren't you?”

“Yeah, 'course I am. Been nice not having to think about work for a while. Haven't had this many days off in a row in years that wasn't due to some emergency.”

“You do work very hard, don't you?” Aziraphale nuzzled into his hair.

“I wouldn't say I work hard.” But he relaxed in Aziraphale's hold, letting the easy affection wash over him. “Didn't mean to worry you both.”

“You can fix that right now by telling me what's going on in that very busy mind of yours.”

Crowley chuckled softly and watched the way the almost-full moon made everything outside look softer around the edges. “I just- I've been tryin' to, you know- I think I might want to try changing. Maybe.”

Aziraphale’s brows lifted, his tail wagging despite himself. “Oh. Really?”

“Y-yeah. Just been trying to psych myself up for it.”

“I would love to see you in that form,” Aziraphale murmured, “but you know that. You know Warlock would as well.”

“I do know. And I feel bad that I haven't been able to give him that. I- I want to be able to do things with… with my pack and I don't want you to commit fully to me without even seeing all of me.”

“Oh, Crowley... I know my wolfen part is very eager to be with you in that way. But I've already committed fully to you, so you're a smidge late.”

“Yeah, well, it still doesn't seem very fair.”

Aziraphale smiled, turning him to draw him close. He rubbed their noses together, purrs beginning to softly rumble. “Perhaps not. Whatever your reasons, pet, I would love to see you. Whenever you want to try.”

Crowley closed his eyes and breathed Aziraphale in. He smelled like chocolate and bourbon and alpha, yes, but it was the safety and comfort and love he found there that helped ease his mind. Crowley grabbed one of his hands and lifted it to kiss. “I'd like to try tonight, if that's alright.”

Aziraphale’s tail swished and it took quite a bit of effort to keep human. “Yes. That would be lovely, yes.”

“I know it's a bit exciting for you.” And terrifying for himself. “But… could you stay human for me? At least… At least at first? It would help, I think.”

“Crowley, I'll do whatever you need.” But he understood it, too. He had to know he could still turn into a wolf at all on his own, and having a human-shaped alpha nearby would help encourage him to change back. “I'm very proud of you for trying at all.”

“I think you're just interested in finally having a wolf to be with,” he teased, squeezing Aziraphale’s hand in his.

“I am. I won't bother denying that, but you're facing a very big fear, Crowley. I hope you're very proud of yourself for this.”

“I'm saving any of that for if I don't freak out again.”

“Alright.” Aziraphale smiled. “Where would you like to try?”

“Ah… Here is- Here is good.” Crowley fidgeted for a moment, fingers twitching, before he turned and led Aziraphale to the bed to sit. It smelled like them, not as much as either of their nests but it was enough to comfort. “I love you. I'm… I'm glad you're the one here with me.”

“I love you too, Crowley. You'll be just fine.”

The twisted up feeling in his stomach did not agree with Aziraphale but Crowley nodded and closed his eyes. It had been so long since he'd even tried to change, he wasn't entirely sure if he really knew how anymore. You were supposed to never forget, it was supposed to be as easy and natural and breathing or blinking, but that hadn't stopped him and plenty of others from being unable to change before.

At least having Aziraphale, his alpha, here was a constant. He was calm and patient and Crowley could focus on the warm place where their thighs touched to keep his thoughts from spinning off into increasingly disastrous scenarios. Aziraphale's steady presence, his familiar scent, helped to quiet his mind at least somewhat. And Crowley wouldn’t necessary say he was ready, but he was as ready as he was going to be when he finally felt the change happen. Two legs became four, russet coloured fur replaced skin, and his nose was assaulted with more intense and new smells than a human one could ever detect.

Crowley sneezed twice in quick succession before pawing at his nose in annoyance.

“I hate to sound like I'm speaking to a pup, but you'll get used to that.” Aziraphale positively beamed as he shifted on the bed to get a better look at the wolf beside him. His ears and tail were a familiar sight, though those black-tipped edges were joined by a few streaks down his chest. He wasn't nearly as large as Aziraphale’s form, but that was to be expected for an omega. He was sleeker and could still tear an attacker apart with ease if needed.

Everything in Aziraphale demanded that he change, his own tail curling and flicking and his ears aimed forward, but his hands stayed hands as he gently cupped Crowley’s muzzle and smiled into golden eyes. “My omega,” he murmured. “You're exceptional.”

Alpha. His nose was filled with alpha and Aziraphale and mate. The notes were slightly different, a little muskier, but they were still his alpha. Crowley laid his head right in Aziraphale's hands, looking up at him with eyes that saw no differently than usual, his tail beginning a slow and cautious wag.

“That's it, my beautiful dear. You've done so well.” He slid a hand up, but didn't quite touch his ear. “May I?”

He barely got the word out before Crowley was pushing up into his hand and scooting closer. It had been so long since this form had been touched at all, every little brush made his tail swish across the bed.

“Alright, I see. A very enthusiastic yes.” Aziraphale kissed the top of his head before scratching firmly behind the ears. Soon, a hand slid down his back and Aziraphale purred his approval. “You're even softer than you said you would be, Crowley. My precious omega. I love you.”

Crowley gave a wolfy grumble and scooted even closer until he was halfway on his alpha's lap. Instinct said he needed to be close, as close as possible, and Crowley laid his head on Aziraphale's shoulder with a sigh.

It must've been harder to fight instinct when one hadn't been a wolf in so long, Aziraphale thought, but helped Crowley properly fill his lap and wrapped his arms securely around him. “Good boy,” he murmured, beaming when that russet tail whipped hard in response. “Now change back, if you would. I'd like to change with you next time, but let's not overwhelm you this first time.”

Crowley went very very still. Change back? Could he change back? He let out a whine and pressed as much of himself against Aziraphale as he could. A riot of worry and fear overtaking his scent.

“I know,” Aziraphale murmured. “I know, my sweet omega. The longer you wait, the more frightful it'll be.”

He knew that. He knew that. His nose found Aziraphale’s neck and breathed him in while Aziraphale ran hands down his trembling back. It took a few long moments of Aziraphale whispering sweet nothings in his ear and trying to ease his breathing with Aziraphale’s scent before a gasping man replaced the wolf.

“Crowley.” Aziraphale cupped his cheeks. “Crowley, you did it.” Thrilled for him and so very proud, Aziraphale sealed their lips together.

The kiss surprised him but Crowley quickly sank into it, clinging to Aziraphale for all he was worth with human hands and human arms. He'd done it. He'd done it. And his tail wagged rapidly across Aziraphale’s knees. “Holy shit.”

Aziraphale laughed, an arm wrapping around him and the other hand delving into his hair. “That was wonderful, pet. You're a beautiful being, whatever your form.”

“That was terrifying is what it was.”

“So much that you won't do it again?”

“Well, I didn't say that…”

Aziraphale smiled. “Now? Perhaps, ah, if you went back and forth a few times? I-” His cheeks coloured. “I don't want to pressure you by any means. I'm just so- I'm so pleased with you.”

“Angel…” Crowley ran his hands over Aziraphale’s shoulders. “Would you like to change with me?”

Aziraphale’s ears moved forward eagerly, then pressed back just as quickly. “I- I would. I very much would.”

“Alright. Admittedly I'm still a little nervous about it all, but…” Crowley grabbed his hand and held it to his chest. “But I'd like to have my alpha with me.”

Aziraphale nodded, smile gentling. “I love you. I'll happily be with you through whatever you need.”

“I'd like you to be with me through everything.”

“Then you first again. I'd like to pet you again before I change. You're terribly soft.”

Crowley laughed, somehow feeling lighter than he had in years. It didn't take nearly as long this time to be a wolf with his two front paws over Aziraphale’s shoulders. With a quiet little woof he was licking at his alpha's cheek and snuggling right into the crook of his neck.

Aziraphale didn't push him away, too excited to have a lap full of omega. His mate right there with him, pressing his muzzle against Aziraphale’s scent gland. It was so nice to have him like this, so incredible. He couldn't control himself, popping into a wolf and collapsing onto his back with Crowley atop him. Their tails met and separated with rapid wagging on both ends, and Aziraphale wiggled free and leapt onto the floor.

He barked, massive paws landing on the bed right next to Crowley’s smaller ones. Mate.

Crowley quickly righted himself, front end crouched while his tail swished in the air. It had been so long since he'd been a wolf with someone else, let alone a partner, a mate, that his instincts didn't know which to do first: pounce on and play with this familiar packmate or lie in wait to see what his alpha did.

Playing with a fellow adult, particularly a mate, was vastly different from playing with a pup. Aziraphale, too, was caught for a moment by too many exciting choices. Crowley was still smaller than him, so he couldn't be as rough as he would've been with a fellow alpha. But he could still do more than with Warlock or Lise's pups.

They stared at one another for a few seconds before they both moved. Aziraphale's paws bounced on the mattress and Crowley shot off the bed and out of the room. Aziraphale quickly gave chase, tail wagging and tongue lolled as he followed that heady scent. So familiar, but so very different like this.

Between the choices of waiting and acting, it really should have been no surprise that Crowley chose neither. He bolted through the back garden, zigzagged around bushes, and leapt over the flower beds. If Aziraphale wanted to play, he would need to catch him.

And catch him, he would. Rather than follow the pattern, Aziraphale ran straight ahead or followed the path and managed to keep from losing ground. Crowley was so much faster like this, all lithe, compact muscle and grace. Aziraphale howled, calling for and praising and warning him of his nearness all in one sound.

He was close, too close just yet but that he could keep up at all made Crowley howl with him. His mate should be able to keep pace. Running around this enclosed garden, though… was not much of a challenge. He raced around the pool once, smelling the water and tempted to jump in, but the sound and smell of alpha right on his heels awoke something more primal than a game of chase. His pace quickened and before the more rational human part of his brain could protest, he'd climbed a lounge chair, jumped the stone wall, and crossed the short space between the property line and the woods to disappear between the trees.

Aziraphale stopped with his paws on the stone wall and gazed out towards the woods. He had more recent experience with his human brain living alongside the wolven half, after all, so he knew running into the woods after dark wasn't the wisest choice one could make. Especially considering the pup tucked into his bed. But that was his mate running off, his omega in need of catching, and Aziraphale wasn't going to stop.

He hauled himself over the wall and shot towards the trees, nose lifted and sniffing out those sweet caramel apples. His Crowley. He dove between the trees and disappeared into the shadows after him, ears perked to listen for the crackling of leaves and twigs from paws other than his own.

Crowley could smell Aziraphale just as well as Aziraphale could smell him, but having so little experience for so long, it wasn't difficult to get overwhelmed with all the new forest smells. The dirt was rich and damp. The scents of various animals, flowers, berries - all pulled him in multiple directions. He still wanted to be caught, though, specifically by the alpha he could smell pursuing him and slipped between trees in a winding squiggly pattern meant to confuse anyone only following their nose. He had to test his alpha and make sure he could find him or a lost pup. It was just instinct.

It was really something they both should've anticipated, but Aziraphale didn't think about it too hard. He knew his omega was wiggly and did the unexpected on a normal day, so he followed instincts and ears as much as he did his nose. He caught a flash of red soon enough and pounced, capturing his omega and sending them both rolling across the forest floor. When Crowley started to wiggle, Aziraphale simply collapsed atop him and rubbed their muzzles together. His purr was closer to a growl, triumphant even as they encouraged him to stay.

Crowley panted beneath him, fighting the instinct to submit immediately as he attempted to find a way out. If he could get away the game wasn't over yet. He whined when it only made Aziraphale lay more of his weight on him and licked at his muzzle in retaliation.

It was also a sign of submission, but Aziraphale didn't fall for it. His omega wasn't exactly known for being submissive. It normally took some rope to get him to that point, and Aziraphale didn't quite have enough thumbs to manage that at the moment. He could only stay atop him and nuzzle and purr to calm Crowley’s racing heart. This part of the game was over, but they didn't have to stop. He just didn't want his partner to overwhelm himself in unfamiliar woods at night.

Okay, maybe he was caught. Crowley’s tail thumped the dirt and dried leaves beneath them. He was only marginally annoyed at being caught and more so pleased his alpha had managed it. He was pleased enough, in fact, to start purring once he was no longer so focused on getting away.

Only then did Aziraphale let up enough that Crowley could roll over, no longer exposing his vulnerable belly. Aziraphale promptly settled right atop him again, though, licking at his ears playfully and purring all the while. He could feel Crowley’s tail wagging beneath him, so let out a canine approximation of a laugh and let his own swish cheerfully. His omega was so good. So sweet and soft beneath him.

There was something instinctually calming about having his alpha above him like this. He was warm and safe, even in this unfamiliar place. Crowley tilted his head to lick Aziraphale’s muzzle again, more earnest this time, and pushed up against him. Aziraphale was much warmer than the ground and instinct wanted to be as close to him as possible.

They were just the sort of signs Aziraphale had been waiting for. He nuzzled his ears again, then woofed softly and held his paw above the ground at about Warlock's height. Running around like this was all well and good, but their pup couldn't wake up without them around. He'd worry.

Crowley huffed and nudged Aziraphale with his head. Yes, fine, they could go back. He had left the door wide open, after all. And the woods were cold. Ah, yes, he was remembering why being wolf full time hadn't worked out before.

Aziraphale shuffled forward enough to lick Crowley’s muzzle. When he grumbled again, he rolled off of him with pleased rumbles of his own and shook out his fur. Then he circled Crowley, tail high and air a playful claim.

The circling would have been something to worry about were it from any other alpha, but this one was his and it only helped to surround Crowley in his familiar scent. Tail wagging - it was much harder to control when he was shaped like this - Crowley sidled up to Aziraphale on his next attempted round. His side was just as warm as his belly and Crowley pressed close while he purred for his alpha, his mate.

Aziraphale nuzzled him fondly, then tossed his head and took a few quick steps forward. He looked back at him with low, playful grumbles, and wiggled the exact same way he did when human-shaped before he bolted. He wasn’t going to make it as hard for his omega to catch him and his destination was already known, but it still felt like a proper game.

It was a game. Just more 'keep up' than 'keep away'. And while Crowley might have been built for speed and agility, Aziraphale was no slouch. He just went through the bushes instead of over or around them, cutting a clear path through the underbrush. Crowley followed, hot on the trail of alpha and letting out delighted barks to let him know he wasn't far behind.

Aziraphale was thrilled. He hadn’t had this in years and never quite like this. Never an omega he loved and trusted this fully. Just beyond a bush was a thick tree near the forest exit, so he barrelled through the bush and disappeared behind the tree. His tongue lolled with his pants as he waited for Crowley to hop over the bush, and then he ambushed him. A quick pounce sent them rolling.

Crowley barked his surprise as they rolled across the damp grass. Sneaky alpha and his tricks, well Crowley wasn't going to let him win this time. They tussled, a play-fight that never went more serious than playful nips. Fast learner that he was, Crowley was careful to not get pinned again, darting away when it seemed he might before quickly turning to pounce back. Their fur was going to be filthy by the end, but it was worth it for the fun.

It also got them closer to the cottage, though their play fight had to stop long enough for them to find the wolf-sized entrance and paw at the small latch in the gate. Aziraphale nuzzled Crowley’s muzzle fondly as they trotted by the pool. And promptly pushed him right in and barked cheerfully when Crowley surfaced, paws paddling and grumbles grumpy. Tail wagging, Aziraphale wiggled and leapt in himself. It was the most efficient way he could think of to get clean.

Clean, yes, but now he was wet and it was cold and Aziraphale was awful. Crowley was quick to clamber out of the pool and gave himself a vigorous shake from tip to tail to clear most of it from his fur. He was still, unfortunately, damp when he padded over to a lounge chair to wait for Aziraphale to finish his little swim.

Aziraphale waded to the steps to climb out, shaking himself out until he looked more like a cotton ball with legs than a wolf, but he was still thoroughly cheerful as he positively pranced to the seat Crowley had sprawled himself across. Eyes bright, he nudged their noses together and woofed.

He was too adorable to stay annoyed at for very long, but Crowley vowed to get him back for this little incident eventually, he'd just need to plan his attack. In the meantime, Crowley nudged back, rubbing their muzzles together in an affectionate gesture. He still loved his ridiculous alpha, even if he was terrible sometimes.

While the chair was technically too small for them, Aziraphale still climbed on, ending up more atop Crowley than on the furniture itself. He settled in, chin resting between his ears as his purrs began. He had his omega. He had him in a way he’d thought would be a lot longer in the making and, even if this was the only time Crowley felt comfortable enough for it or if these times were few and far between, it was perfect.

Crowley couldn't tell him just how nice this felt, not while they were like this. He couldn't say he was warm, exactly, but he'd never felt safer than he did right now with his alpha laying half on top of him. Crowley yawned, only dislodging Aziraphale a little bit before he snuggled right into his bulk.

It wasn’t necessarily a safe place to sleep. They weren’t in a burrow or a den of any sort and they were both damp. Maybe he should’ve bumped Crowley into the hot tub instead, a hopeful plan for another day. He nudged him and angled his head towards the house where they’d left the door wide open in silent question.

He yawned again and looked towards the door. He supposed Aziraphale had a point, their bed was more comfortable than a little pool chair. Crowley huffed and wriggled out from underneath him. But he wasn't about to let either of them muss up their bed with wet fur, so four legs became two as he crossed the threshold and collapsed face first onto the comforter. “You wear me out.”

Aziraphale chuckled as he settled beside him, tail beating against the covers and an arm draping across his back. “I have extensive practice courtesy of the pup upstairs.”

“Yeah, but I'm not a pup.” And he was still a little chilled, scooting closer until he could turn his head and bury his nose in Aziraphale's chest.

“I’m intimately acquainted with that fact, yes.” Smiling, Aziraphale nuzzled into his hair. “Thank you for that. It was… Running with you like that was better than I let myself dream.”

Crowley smiled and turned to wrap an arm around him. “Good. It was fun for me, too. Haven't been able to do something like that since… since I was a teen.”

“Mm. Four hundred years ago?” he teased.

“Longer than that! It was forever ago.”

“An entire eternity.” Aziraphale kissed the top of his head. “Will you show Warlock tomorrow? You changed back so simply when we came back.”

“I- Yeah, I can show him. It's…” Crowley pressed as close as he could, tangled their legs together. “It's not as frightening now that I've done it and come back a few times.”

“Oh, good. I think he'll adore it, Crowley.”

“Probably. Feel kinda silly, though, for not trying sooner.”

“No, don't do that.” Aziraphale cupped the back of his head and gently guided him towards his scent gland. “You went through a harrowing experience, pet. Of course you would wait to try. Of course you'd be frightened. There's no need to feel embarrassed or foolish about that or about waiting until you felt safe.”

Crowley breathed him in easy, he had such a sweet alpha. “You do make me feel safe, angel. Coulda just fallen asleep outside with you watching over me.”

“I know. But it was a bit chilly yet.” Aziraphale smiled to himself, pleased that he could help Crowley. He was a good alpha for his mate. “If you wanted to curl up and fall asleep with me right here, I'd be happy to continue keeping you safe.”

“You always keep me safe.” Even when he didn't need it, but Aziraphale was never overbearing or controlling with it. And with the gentle pets down his back and Aziraphale’s calming presence it wasn't even all that difficult to shift again. A wolfy nose pressed into Aziraphale’s neck with a sleepy huff. He was exactly where he wanted to be.

“I always will,” Aziraphale promised. He shifted soon himself and tucked Crowley beneath his warm bulk. He let his purrs rumble and snuggled in, tail swishing.

That was how Crowley awoke when sunlight streamed into their borrowed bedroom. To a gently purring alpha and buried under a veritable mountain of white fur. His tail began wagging immediately, they'd slept all night like this and Crowley, no matter his shape, was not a morning sort of person. He wriggled and turned until he had his eyes tucked and hidden away from the light. They wouldn't hurt in this form, but he still wasn't a fan.

Aziraphale’s purrs hitched a little, an obvious sort of laugh at his silly omega. He licked behind his ears just to make them twitch, and grabbed the blanket between his teeth to pull it up and over Crowley’s head.

Crowley barked his surprise, tail thumping the bed, but joke's on Aziraphale, it only helped to hide him from the obvious light. Crowley scooted his way under the sheet entirely, curled up with his tail over his face, and endeavored to get more sleep.

Aziraphale blinked but, really, he shouldn't have been surprised. He quickly wiggled his own way under the blanket and pushed his snout through Crowley’s tail to enthusiastically lick his face.

Crowley whined and barked and his attempted swipe at Aziraphale was met with nothing but air. He huffed and poked his head out of the sheets just far enough to see Aziraphale standing with the sun lighting up his fur and tail a white blur. It was too early for this and he barked his annoyance at him.

Aziraphale barked right back, dropping his front half to bump their noses together. Pretty omega.

He was utterly ridiculous and Crowley was going to tell him so later when he could use words. But for now it was fine to nudge him right back and crawl his way out of the sheets and shake his fur to set it to rights.

Aziraphale waited as patiently as he could for those gold eyes to fix on him before he shuffled forward to lick his muzzle and his ears, trying in vain to keep his entire body from wiggling as his tail wagged as hard as it could. Mate, mate, mate.

His happiness and delight was infectious, Crowley’s tail wagged just as hard despite his grumpiness. Aziraphale was just too damn happy for this early in the morning but it didn't hurt to lick back and let his alpha have his way. Crowley purred softly for him, more content by the second here with his mate, his alpha.

The sound of his purrs only seemed to thrill him more, as did the wolven equivalent of a good morning kiss. Aziraphale collapsed onto his side and felt very much like a puddle of happy goo. He didn't know what to do with so much joy, really. He had his omega and his omega was happy with him. Aziraphale gazed up at him with all the love in the world, blue eyes so very bright.

Silly alpha, he was purring so hard he almost shook the bed and his fur was still a bit fuzzy from their dip last night making him look something like a massive cotton ball. Crowley laid down with him, cleaning his ear and the side of his face before crossing their necks with a quiet huff, purring for him all the while.

It helped settle Aziraphale, though he inched closer still. It was hard to control the desire to run in circles or run outside and howl his joy for anyone who might be able to hear. He had a mate, and his wolf brain wanted to share that with the entire world. He normally did, of course, but it was a far easier thing to manage when his shape was more sensible. He rolled onto his side, letting Crowley cuddle closer, and he breathed in that sweet, comforting scent of omega.

Crowley’s purrs stuttered in a quiet laugh. He'd never been able to have something like this with a mate before. It was new and novel and he snuggled right in to Aziraphale’s bulk, his wagging tail bumping Aziraphale’s playfully.

Aziraphale rolled onto his back and wiggled until their noses bumped again, then gestured towards the ceiling in question. Warlock could do with an early morning wake-up call.

It took Crowley a moment to puzzle out exactly what Aziraphale wanted, he wasn't used to the whole 'non-verbal communication' thing just yet, but when he did he sat up immediately and barked. Pup! Their pup! His swishing tail hit Aziraphale a handful of times in increasing frequency before Crowley couldn't take it anymore and shot off the bed. The door was opened and he was bounding down the hall in a blink.

Aziraphale smiled to himself as well as a dog could before following, his own tail wagging wildly as they made their way up the stairs. Eight paws thundered on each step and down the hall, Aziraphale getting the door open. They didn't flood the pup's temporary nest, respectful of his space enough that they only placed their front paws on the bed. Their tails swung back and forth, beating wildly and swatting one another, and Aziraphale lowered his chin to his paws and looked at Crowley expectantly.

It was a wonder he hadn't woken up yet with how loud they were being. Crowley’s tail swished across the wooden floor, Warlock's New Pup smell might have faded by now but his plus Aziraphale’s alpha one sent Crowley’s omega brain into a little happy frenzy. Mate and pup and pack all mixed together until it culminated into a series of loud barks.

Warlock's brow scrunched as he yanked his blankets over his head. He was groggy enough that the sound being different from Aziraphale’s deeper, bellowing barks didn't register. “That's not cool,” he whined. “It's early and we're supposed to be on vacation.”

Yes, well, if he was going to be woken up early the pup was too, that's what was really fair. Crowley barked again, the end of it turning into something of a whine as his paws tapped at blankets. He wasn't above just biting the sheet and running with it, but that would have to be a last resort.

Warlock's ears popped just to go flat, the scent of wolf overwhelming in a way it never had been before. But, just as he was about to complain to Crowley about making Aziraphale stop, there was a different bark. One that joined the first and was... was more familiar.

He pulled the blanket down, eyes going wide with surprise at the sight of two wolves. He breathed in cautiously, but still only smelled Crowley and Aziraphale. His cousin's scent was a little different, his wolfen form adding something new, but he was still recognizable. He was still, “Crowley?”

The answering little boof was followed by Crowley setting his head on his paws and tail going nervously still. Warlock had never seen him like this and it was always possible he'd think it was weird and tell him to change back.

He looked from Aziraphale to Crowley and back again. Aziraphale's tail swished and his head bobbed and there was suddenly a little black wolf pup on the bed. He scampered to the edge and pressed his little nose against Crowley’s with a soft, happy little sound. He'd never seen this, no, and hadn't expected it. But it was so cool to see his cousin like this and, more importantly for his instincts, it was incredible to have two people he thought of as parents like this. His own had never both been like this. Not together and not with him too, so it was new in so many ways.

He smelled different as a pup, softer somehow. Crowley nudged back, licked across his little face to the sound of grumbling complaints, and before a more human part of his brain could think about it he scruffed the pup between his teeth and shot back out of the room. There was yipping protests but he ignored them, hearing Aziraphale following right behind he dashed back down the stairs and into their room. Jumping on the bed, he spun quickly once, twice, and laid down with Warlock tucked right into his side. His pup.

His very wiggly pup. He tried to escape almost immediately, but was cornered by Aziraphale. He was brought right back to Crowley before he even made it halfway across the bed, finding himself smushed between them over his grumbles. He wanted to play, not be forced to cuddle. Even though being in their nest was brand new, the scents alone comforting enough to make a less stubborn pup curl right in and nap.

He might have wanted to play, but there was something about having alpha and pup and being wolf all at once that made Crowley want to curl up in a nest with them both. He laid his head right on top of their little wriggly one and sighed contently, instincts settled with his alpha and their pup right here with him.

Warlock grunted, but Aziraphale licked Crowley’s muzzle and got Warlock's ear as a result. When purrs started from both of them, Warlock slumped in defeat. He didn't want to be awake anyway, whatever.

Aziraphale hunkered down close to Crowley, positioned so he was cuddling and able to get up and protect his little pack at a moment's notice. This was something his instincts had never been given. A pup and an omega in his nest with him, his to protect and love. All his. He nudged his nose against Crowley’s, then rubbed their muzzles together affectionately. His pack.

Crowley gave another little contented sigh and let his eyes close. There was nothing to worry about with his alpha keeping watch and their pup tucked under his chin. He could rest easy and let the worries float away for a little while.

And, much later, when they all came home with sand in their fur, they put their pup to bed and spent the night under the stars snuggled just as close and warm as they'd been inside. It was safe.

Chapter Text

If you'd asked Crowley the last time he'd actually celebrated his birthday where he saw himself celebrating his thirtieth he probably would have laughed and said something along the lines of hoping he made it that long. A year ago, if he'd been told he would be spending it at a beach house owned by a wealthy friend of his equally as wealthy partner- boyfriend- significant other he would have told you to piss off and to lay off the booze.

That said, actually experiencing such a thing was a little surreal. He had a stable enough job that was only getting better, a pup that might not have been his-his but was his all the same, and he had an alpha that actually wanted him around and was full of endless patience for his stupid brain stuff and kissed him like it was forever. Sometimes Crowley couldn't figure out if he was having a particularly realistic dream or if he really had stumbled into a romance worthy of storybooks.

Maybe he should have expected the storybook feel, considering the one holding his hand on their walk beneath the trees was an author. Maybe he'd written it this way to give them both exactly what they needed.

It was simple as Crowley seemed to appreciate the simple moments as much as grand ones and Aziraphale had a very good memory for the people he cared about, well aware that Crowley’s appreciation for surprises only went so far. He squeezed his hand, smiling softly and letting his tail wag. “You smell happy.”

“That would be because I am.” Crowley squeezed back and moved just that much closer to bump their shoulders together. “I don't think I've been this content in… well, in a while.”

“The power of vacation, I suppose.”

“Vacation, love, same thing really.”

“Not quite, but I’ll accept them as individual reasons. You could always take a permanent vacation,” he teased, bumping their hips together to make sure Crowley knew he was joking. He knew his omega didn’t want to be a kept mate. “You’d be thoroughly spoiled then.”

Crowley gave him a side eyed look, but his smile betrayed him. “You don't want that. I'd be insufferable.”

“But you’d smell so sweet and happy all the time. I’m sure it would be worthwhile.”

“No, no, it'd be awful. I'd get so bored. What would I even do all day?” Crowley pointed a finger at him, smile wide. “And don't say gardening. I can only spend so much time with silent plants before I wanna take a weedwacker to it all and start all over again.”

“That’s obviously when you come to the bookshop and pester me.” Aziraphale’s lashes fluttered innocently. “In a scandalously minimal amount of clothes, I should think.”

“You want me driving around London in a crop top and the smallest pair of shorts I own with a little black number peeking out of the waistband?”

Aziraphale’s ears perked. “Actually, I think that may have to wait until my study is in our shared home. You can walk upstairs or wherever it ends up being like that. As often as you like, in fact.”

“Oh, I don't know, angel.” Crowley leaned in to brush his nose against Aziraphale’s temple. “Sure I won't be too distracting for you if we lived together?”

“No. I find your presence more inspiring than distracting.”

“No? I couldn't distract you from your work if I slipped beneath your desk and teased and sucked you till you came down my throat?”

Aziraphale’s scent flared. “Well... They do say breaks are good for productivity in the long run.”

Crowley grinned, his tail swishing in delight. “No, see, if you stop typing then I've successfully distracted you. You have to keep going.”

“I think that may be worth an experiment or two,” Aziraphale murmured, pinning him with a possessive, sidelong look. “Pitting my concentration against your... talents.”

“A true contest for the ages.”

“Yes. One for another day. When it's no longer your birthday.” Aziraphale’s tail wagged, hand leaving Crowley’s so he could slip that arm around his waist. “You're the one who's going to be seen to tonight.”

“Oh?” Crowley’s eyebrows lifted over the top of his glasses in faux surprise. “Sounds like my alpha has big plans.”

“Yes, I do. And I think you'll appreciate those if I leave them as surprises.” Aziraphale nuzzled him, purrs soft. “Warlock hinted,” in his sideways way, “that he'd like to play on the beach with you today. I know you've been avoiding getting sand in your fur since that first day, but...”

Crowley wrinkled his nose. He hadn't even liked playing in the mud as much as the other pups seemed to when he was young. Sand was just as bad, it was hard to get out of fur and got stuck between his toes. He kept a neat home and he liked to keep himself just as clean… but Warlock did want to play and had been denied the opportunity to do so with him for too long. “Okay, fine. But you're the one who's going to give me a good scrub down to get all the grit off.”

“Yes, and I will very happily. While you're playing, I'm going to bake your cake.” Aziraphale gave him a fond squeeze. “You'll have to be clean enough to eat it.”

“Oohhh, some of my alpha's famous baking. Now that's real spoiling right there.”

“I hope so. Particularly since I know what you enjoy.” He knew so much that he hadn't when their relationship had begun. “Apparently there's also some trick-or-treating occurring in the village nearby. Between the two of us, I'm sure we can come up with something for Warlock to join? A little something more American for him.”

“Bloody American pup,” Crowley muttered fondly while the orange and gold leaves crunched under their footfalls. “Yeah, we'll take him trick-or-treating. I've already got a costume for him, and maybe it'll wear him out enough to go to bed early.”

“He isn't going to be tuckered out so easily forever, you know. We'll have to come up with something as he gets older.” Aziraphale’s eyes twinkled as bright as his smile. “Perhaps soundproof rooms is something we need to include in our must-haves.”

“Or, or he could just realise the adults need adult time sometimes and what a sock over the knob means.”

“And what if we do end up having another? We'll just let them hear any old thing, hm?”

Crowley looked away from him to gaze between the trees, cheeks pinking. “I never said anything against soundproofing. Put it on The List.”

“I shall. It's going to be quite lengthy before long. A roof, doors, enough bedrooms to accommodate us, our pup,” maybe more, “a study, a garden area, soundproof walls... We'll have to see what Warlock might want.”

“Watch, he's gonna say a pool or some other nonsense.”

“Or a theatre?”

“A pool, an in-home theatre, and an arcade! Every child's dream home come true.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “It wouldn't have been mine. Would that have been your dream home?”

“As a pup?” At Aziraphale's nod Crowley hummed in thought. “Honestly I think living somewhere that smelled less like sheep woulda been at the top of my list.”

Aziraphale kissed his temple. “You've certainly managed that.”

The kiss made him smile and Crowley pressed shoulder to hip with him, no matter that it made it slightly more difficult to walk. “Suppose I did, didn't I? Certainly no sheep in our flat.” But there was no Aziraphale there either. “If I'm bein' honest, I think young me would've just been happy to be somewhere full of love.”

Aziraphale stopped to pull Crowley in close, their noses brushing. “Things like that leave me to wonder where we'd be if we'd met a decade ago.” They also broke his heart. Crowley should've grown up in a home filled with love and affection. He should've grown up in a place that didn't make him yearn for more.

A decade ago he'd been struggling and bitter, more likely to bite the hand that reached out than let it try to help. Unsure and scared and not at all what he considered a proper mate. “I think, if we'd met then, you'd have been worried about taking advantage of me.”

“Very true. You were terribly young, and I was searching for an agent at the time. Dealing with the loss of my mothers by, ah, ignoring it entirely.”

“I'm still terribly young, damn it,” Crowley muttered to the upward tilt of Aziraphale's lips. “But I'm sure you managed as best you could. That was a terrible loss for you.”

“You've had your fair share of terrible losses as well, pet. Enough that you were able to help Warlock through his. As curious as I am about nineteen and twenty-year-old you, I'm very pleased with and proud of the one I know now. Who fought hard for his place in life.”

He didn't feel like he'd fought very hard, more like skating by by the skin of his teeth and making shit up along the way. “I don't think you'd have liked young me very much anyway. I had a lot of anger and frustration I was still working through.”

“And look how far you've come. Today, you smell happy.” Aziraphale kissed him gently. “You smell like mine.”

“Yeah, well I am. Happy to be yours. Happy you're mine.” He let Aziraphale guide him into another soft kiss, warmed by his proximity alone. “Happy I get to have this with you.”

“Are you happy you're getting more comfortable with your wolf half?”

“I… I think so. Didn't really realise how much I missed it till I got to see you and Warlock together.” And it wasn't all sunshine and roses just yet. He still worried about not being able to change back, but having Aziraphale nearby to help talk him out of his own head helped.

“I understand, pet. I do love watching the two of you play. He has devilishly sharp teeth, though, doesn't he? And no qualms about sinking them into ears or ankles.”

“You could say that again.” Crowley reached up to rub at one of his own pointed ears and grimace. “Thought he was gonna rip one right off.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “I'm sure you were just as vicious as a pup. And at least with you and I, he can safely work out those more aggressive tendencies.”

And learn how to not play and bite so rough. “I might have been, but I also had sheep to chase and nip at when I got too antsy.”

“And how much wool did you get stuck in your teeth?” Aziraphale teased, giving him a squeeze before drawing back enough to resume their stroll.

“More than you need to know about!” Crowley announced, slipping his hand into the crook of Aziraphale's arm. “But I will tell you my mum was always annoyed when she had to pick it out of my mouth for me.”

“Terror,” Aziraphale playfully accused, laying a hand on Crowley’s. “A constant terror, even from childhood.”

They stepped into a clearing, Aziraphale smiling at the sunlight pouring into the circular space. There were tree trunks, old and dragged into a circle of their own around a campfire space that didn't seem as if it had been used in some time. “Sit with me?”

“As if you have to ask.” He let Aziraphale lead them over the long dead campfire. The log they sat on was old but sturdy, long since cut and dried for this exact purpose. Crowley breathed in the cool air and hummed. “Might not like the cold, but autumn air always smells good. Crisp and earthy.”

“Particularly in wooded areas such as this.” Aziraphale took hold of one of Crowley’s hands, turned towards him. “It is very nice, however. It says quite a bit to my instincts. I feel like I should take you to a burrow and tuck in.”

Crowley’s lips twitched up. “We have a perfectly functional nest at home, you beast. With blankets. And a mattress.” But he couldn't deny his own instincts were saying something similar. They wanted him to go curl up with his alpha in a den somewhere to ride out the coming winter.

“We do.” Home. Home together? Did he mean the flat? He probably meant the flat. Aziraphale made himself take a deep breath, pressing the air down with his free hand to calm himself. At Crowley’s concerned look, he shook his head and smiled weakly. “It's alright. I'm alright. A bit nervous about the birthday present I'm about to give you, I suppose.”

“Oh?” Crowley discreetly looked him over, whatever it was must have been small, as there were no weird lumps in his clothes. “Was wondering why you wanted to take a walk out here.”

“There are hardly any opportunities to take a walk through the woods in London,” Aziraphale huffed. “Even the parks have a limited number of trees.”

“It's the city, angel, that's how it works.”

“It's also where we live, so pardon me for wanting to experience something different with you. Our vacation is nearly over, after all.”

“It is, yes.” Crowley smiled at him, Aziraphale looked good out here amidst all the reds and golds. “And you're stalling.”

Aziraphale fidgeted with his waistcoat before dipping a hand into the pocket where his watch typically resided alone. “Perhaps. I, ah, you can refuse this, of course. There's absolutely no obligation. I just thought- Well, I considered that you might... That it was silly for you to- Considering how unusual my hours are, I-” Aziraphale broke off with a huff at his own expense and took one of Crowley’s hands before pressing a chain into it. On one end was a small brass book. On the other…

“A key?” It wasn’t a new key, the teeth and bow clearly worn from age and use. Crowley blinked down at it, Aziraphale’s hands nervously wringing in his lap. “Er… what's it go to?”

Well. He'd really thought that would be obvious. Aziraphale's cheeks puffed out. “The bookshop.”

“Oh… Oh!” Crowley’s head popped up, eyes wide behind his glasses. “You're… you're giving me a key to the shop?”

“Yes, I've already said. There's also a charming little book affixed to it. I thought that would make it quite clear.”

“Wha- That doesn't mean anything! How was I supposed to know? For all I know it coulda been a key to a-a storage shed or maybe you went ahead and bought a place.”

“My dear fellow, I would never purchase a place for our pack without discussing it with you first. And I hardly see what value a storage shed would be. I don't even have such a thing. I-” He stopped, not wanting his nerves to drive him to irritation. “I only have the bookshop, and I want you to- to have access to it. Whenever you like. You're welcome there, Crowley. I can trust you.”

Crowley ran his thumb over the cool metal of the key. With this he could come and go as he liked. It was an invitation to pop in when the mood struck, no calling ahead necessary or worrying if Aziraphale would be out. It was a much bigger gift than he'd expected and so much more than just a simple key. “Angel, that's-” Crowley had to swallow past the lump forming in his throat. “Wow. I- I don't know what to say.”

“Say... you'll use it.”

“Oh, angel.” Crowley scooted closer until they were pressed together hip to knee, leaned in to nuzzle sweetly at Aziraphale's temple. “Of course I'll use it. I'll show up when you least expect it, thoroughly distract you from your writing, and make you pay attention to me.”

“That would be lovely, Crowley. Truly.” Aziraphale kissed his cheek, arm slipping around his waist. “Just don't lose the key, please. The locks haven't needed changing in decades.”

Crowley squeezed the key into his palm, warming the cold metal. “I would never.”

“Thank you. It’s also the only duplicate I have. We’ve never had more than two at a time in my family.”

“So if anymore than two people wanted access to the shop they were just shit out of luck?”

“It was never an issue, really. I’m not, in fact, the first person in my family who kept… unusual hours. So the keys were reserved for the person who’d inherited ownership and their mate. A bit of a, ah, pack tradition.”

“A pack tradition,” Crowley repeated slowly back to him. “That's adorable, angel. Truly. I'll be sure to keep this safe and… and I'm honoured you want to include me in it.”

Aziraphale smiled, leaning in to nuzzle him. “I love you. I want to include you in every part of my life, and that includes the bookshop. And my pack traditions.”

His throat felt too tight, like his heart was trying to crawl out of it. Having a key to the shop felt like being gifted a part of Aziraphale himself and Crowley chuckled wetly. “Guess I really can't be banned now.”

“From banned to keyholder.” Aziraphale cupped his cheek, knowing pretty golden eyes were damp despite Crowley’s sunglasses. He was so expressive. “What a leap you’ve made, pet.”

“Wasn't difficult,” Crowley murmured and turned his head to kiss Aziraphale’s palm. “You were easy to fall in love with.”

“After you returned, perhaps. You didn’t seem to have a very high opinion of me after that first meeting. A hardarse, I believe you called me.”

“Yeah, well, I was frustrated and stressed. You had every right to be annoyed at me and kick me out like you did.”

He wasn’t going to rehash it again, so kissed him instead. “How lucky for me that you came back regardless.” That he’d stumbled across a lost pup in the tube. “You’re far easier to love than you’ve been led to believe. You’re clever and fun and so very beautiful.”

Crowley’s cheeks pinked and he had to fight the initial desire to run and hide, though his tail still twitched restlessly. “You always have such nice things to say, angel.”

“I have true things to say, and you deserve to hear them.” Aziraphale kissed each of his cheeks, letting his purrs rumble. That sweet blush never failed to delight him. “I’m very glad to have you as a mate, and if- if you do bite me during your heat, I’ll wear your Mark proudly.”

“Do you- Would you really want me to do that?” Not that he didn't want to himself. The desire to bite and be bitten was one as old and deep as the want for a mate. There weren't as many laws around it anymore, not here in the UK, but that didn't mean it didn't mean anything.

“Crowley… I know you can’t accept mine, and I understand your reasonings.” Even if his instincts wanted nothing more than to claim what was his for all to see. “I also know that it’s very… unusual for an alpha to take the bite before an omega, but I’m willing to. I want to.”

“Alright, alright.” Crowley reached up to cup the back of Aziraphale's neck and drew him in to rest their foreheads together. “I want to, too, believe me. I just don't want you feeling like this is something you have to do for me.”

“No. It’s something I want to do because I love you.” His eyes crinkled with his smile. “And because I’m old enough to handle any jokes - well-intended or otherwise - at my expense.”

“No one better make fun of my alpha or they'll be dealing with me.”

“My threatening little omega,” he teased, but didn't doubt him for a moment. He knew Crowley could be very fierce.

“Oi. I'm taller than you.” But he was grinning and rubbing his thumb up and down the side of Aziraphale’s neck. “Not so little.”

“Smaller than me in other ways. If my ears were straight, I daresay we'd be even in height. Additionally, I'm much larger than you in our wolfen forms.” Which helped him understand just why Crowley had been so terrified at the prospect of not being able to turn back whilst alone and on the cusp of heat. It would've been about this time of year wherein that had happened to him. He kissed him lightly, purrs soft. “Though you're lovely whatever your size or shape or form.”

Crowley gave faux grumbles and pouts that were easily kissed away. “Yes, yes, you love your little sweet omega.” Crowley threw a hand over his eyes and leaned back, the keychain dangling from his fist. “So small and in need of a big strong alpha, am I.”

“While I'm fairly certain you don't need a big, strong alpha...” Laughing, Aziraphale very easily lifted Crowley and settled him in his lap. “I know for a fact you enjoy having one.”

Crowley’s breath caught in his throat, fingers finding their way to the short curly hair at the nape of Aziraphale's neck. Was he ever going to get used to that? He didn't think so. “Especially when he uses his strength like that.”

“Which I'm very tempted to do more often.” His reactions were always so enjoyable and, really, it didn't require much effort to move Crowley where he wanted him. “I also wanted to ask where you'd like to share our cycles? I don't want to prevent Warlock from being in his nest, but mine may not smell enough like you for you to feel comfortable.”