Chapter Text
Aziraphale considered himself very different from other omegas. For starters, he was sure that he would never find a mate. The alpha angels made his nose twitch and his stomach turn with their heavy, oppressive scents. He couldn’t imagine presenting to one of those oafs. Even the demon alphas he had met– he found them just as repulsive– so that was that. Aziraphale would most likely be the only omega in Solar City who would not take a mate because he would not accept a mating that was anything less than real.
Perhaps he read too much. Perhaps his standards were too high. Literature in Solar City was unmatchable– a world made of angels and demons living together in more or less harmony– and the writing that had come out of it felt better than anything he’d experienced in real life.
And those were just the dirty books.
Heaven and Hell had given up on absolutes– especially as more and more of their populations departed from the strict binary of good and evil. There were many more shades of gray than they had previously wanted to acknowledge. And since they couldn’t afford to lose more than half of their populations– a compromise was struck. The angels and demons who were
different
could live on Solar City as an experiment– to see if there was any possibility of working and living together again.
They were all shocked when it went incredibly well.
There was a little segregation at first, more on the cautious side than the malicious side, but now the city inhabitants were used to seeing each other, used to sharing space, and were doing it quite well by now.
In fact, the inhabitants had gotten so used to each other, that demons and angels alike could walk down their street in their celestial forms and no one would bat an eye. In fact, the city was built to accommodate them– extra large rooms, high doors and higher ceilings. Room for large wings, white and black, and tall, hulking bodies. Horns and eyes by the dozens. Bodies that shimmered blackish red and goldish blue. There was some variety, of course, especially when it came to certain demons and angels that found comfort in each other. Their offspring were usually particularly striking.
Anyway, it was a particularly warm autumn day when Aziraphale was walking down the street. He had undone his shirt sleeves and rolled them up as he walked back to his bookshop. He was feeling quite cheerful, a little skip in his step, when he caught the whiff of the most delicious scent– like freshly baked apple pie with a hint of warm spice. He glanced around for a bakery– the source of the scent had to be somewhere– and his eyes fell upon a demon walking his way, in his demonic form.
Aziraphale stared, his mouth watering, as he took in the demon’s scent. He’d never smelled anyone who smelled as good as the alpha in front of him. He took a stronger whiff, blinking as he felt the urge to react, to act, to–
To fucking present in the middle of the sidewalk.
He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. This was not like him. He was a proper omega, a proper angel, and— and– and he wanted to climb that fucking alpha like a fucking tree. The demon slowed down, eyeing him with something that looked like distrust. Aziraphale noticed that most of the other inhabitants were giving them quite a wide berth and he scent-checked himself, mortified when he realized the come-hither scent he was producing quite voraciously.
“You all right, angel?” The demon asked carefully as if his damned scent hadn’t sent Aziraphale’s body alight with need… with
want.
Oh, but his voice! It sent shivers down Aziraphale’s spine.
“I-I appear to be having a bit of a mid-existence crisis.” Aziraphale sank to his knees. “I–I normally don’t react to alphas, to any alphas, and you– you– you smell so very fucking good.” There was a glint in the demon’s eyes– oh– were his eyes golden? He really just had to be so delicious, didn’t he? Aziraphale was starting to turn around when the demon let out a chuckle.
“You’re not–” He paused when Aziraphale did indeed present right there on the sidewalk in front of him. He was still clothed, but well, if he really did want this, he wouldn’t be for long. “Are you sure?” He rumbled and Aziraphale nodded, cheeks flushed. This would be humiliating if not for the aching
need
that pulsed through him. “I can take you home–” The demon muttered awkwardly.
“No! I need you now!”
“Not gonna fuck you in the street, angel.” The demon scooped him up. He was twice Aziraphale’s height in his demonic form and that made manhandling him so delightfully easy.
“I’m sorry! I’m not normally like this.” Aziraphale squeaked when he was brought close to the demon’s face. “I’m usually quite proper!”
“Hmm.” The demon grunted, his nostrils flaring as he took a delicate sniff of the omega hanging near his face. “Smell sweet. Smell good.”
“Thank you.” Bless him. Aziraphale meant it.
“Hmm.” The demon turned, tossing him against his shoulder. His skin was scaly and smooth, Aziraphale stroking a finger against it. The demon chuckled. He carried Aziraphale into the alley way, pulling his wings out to block them from any unwanted eyes. He placed Aziraphale down on his feet, hooking a claw on the collar of his shirt. “How do you want it?” Aziraphale swallowed hard, staring up at him hungrily.
“Make me feel you for days.” He’d read that like in a book and decided it felt the most accurate with how he was currently
pulsing
with need and the demon chuckled.
“Most people are afraid I’m going to hurt them.” The demon scoffed. “You’re not afraid of anything, are you?”
“I’m afraid I might expire before you shut up and fuck me!”
“Been that long?” The alpha smirked. “Are you going to hulk out? Go full Angel?” It made sense. They’d be similar sizes once he took on his angelic form, but Aziraphale wasn’t in the mood for that. No. He wanted this demon to practically possess him. He wanted to feel as if he was at his utter mercy.
“No, I want you to devour me.” Aziraphale challenged. “Make me all yours.” The claw hooked on his collar and pulled down, slicing his shirt clean off in the front, exposing his chest. The demon eyed his bare skin, all clean and begging to be marked up roughly.
“Hmm.” A rumble emanated from the alpha’s chest. “Plucky little thing, I plan to.”