Chapter Text
Not knowing where to go, Aziraphale let his feet carry him into the garden. It had become a beloved safe space for him in Hell, and that was still true even now. He moved further and further inward, trying in vain to keep his tears to a minimum. He had been living a dream, staying with Crowley. Walking arm in arm with him, trying to help him with affairs of state, having lavish meals in his palace and private concerts. Pretending to be the consort . Because that was what he wanted .
The thought crystallized, clear as crystal, and Aziraphale had to stop and sit on a bench in shock.
“Oh,” Aziraphale said calmly, “I’m in love with him.”
Part of him felt exasperated. In reality, part of him knew that he had been in love with Crowley, and had loved him for a very long time. He sniffled a bit, because it really was just his luck that he would realize that he loved Crowley, deeply and truly right as he was expected to return to heaven to marry another.
“Angel!”
And speak of the demon.
Aziraphale didn’t move, knowing that he owed it to his friend to confess his feelings, however unreturned they may be. There was no way Crowley could love an angel as cowardly as himself.
Crowley caught up to him rather quickly, having expanded a miracle to find his angel the moment Aziraphale had run from him. “Oh, you’re alright,” He said, relieved, walking over to the bench. Aziraphale stood, his face wracked with regret.
“Look, angel, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” Crowley wasted no time apologizing. “It was wrong, I don’t think that you’re-”
“It’s alright,” Aziraphale said, stepping closer. He gave Crowley a smile. “Crowley, you have been… so incredible. So much more than I deserve. I have been… so happy, living here with you. You’re an incredible ruler, and I’m so lucky that you’re my friend.”
Aziraphale took a breath. It was about finding courage. If Crowley could take over Hell, Aziraphale could say his piece. “You see, I’ve rather gone and fallen in love with you. It wasn’t hard. I probably have loved you for a very long time. I’m afraid I was a little too daft to realize it until now, terribly sorry my dear.”
After he said it, Aziraphale experience two emotions: dread, and elation. He felt pride, that he had been able to share how he felt. It was a relief. But there was also dread because his relationship with Crowley would be different now, forever, no question about it.
He could see the way Crowley’s face shifted as he had spoken, and when Aziraphale had confessed his love, Crowley’s jaw had dropped and his face went slack. Aziraphale bit back the disappointment. Well, stiff upper lip, couldn’t be helped.
“Right,” Aziraphale let out a sad laugh, “I, well, I am sorry to have inconvenienced-”
His words were cut off.
When Crowley had chased after him, all the demon could think of was finally admitting to his angel how he had felt - how he had felt for so long. Crowley had known, really known, that Aziraphale was the one and only for him since Eden, since Rome, since he knew he could trust the angel and vice versa. And Aziraphale deserved to know that, had deserved to know that for a long time.
Aziraphale needed to know that the moment Crowley had free reign of the palace, the demon had made a wing for him in mind. That in Wessex he had wanted to ask Aziraphale to visit him, and maybe join him, perhaps for good, and become his consort. He wanted to court the angel by that Round Table Code the angel had signed on for. Because Aziraphale was worth it. No royal life was worth living without him in it.
And blast it all, the moment he found him on that bench, all those words died on his tongue, because the overwhelming pressure of losing him to heaven and some stupid arranged marriage was too much. Only then Aziraphale had to go and prove that he was every bit the bold creature that had stolen his heart, and confessed to him first .
Hearing those words, this confession of love, to Crowley, it felt like the first time he had ever flown. The exhilaration of wind rushing through his wings, soaring to new heights, seeing all the potential before him. But this moment was better than flying, better than his crown, better than any of his powers. Aziraphale loved him. It left him stunned, only he realized a moment too late that Aziraphale was taking that as a rejection, which wouldn’t do at all.
“Right,” Aziraphale let out a sad laugh, “I, well, I am sorry to have inconvenienced-”
Crowley surged forward and pulled Aziraphale into his arms. Without a moment’s more hesitation, he pulled the angel into a deep kiss. The way Aziraphale relaxed against him, the sensation of the angel kissing him back, Crowley wouldn’t have traded it for a thousand thrones. They broke apart, and Aziraphale smiled up at him in exhilaration. As if Crowley had been the one to give him something generous, and not the other way around.
“Crowley,” He breathed, and Crowley leaned in for another kiss, because he could.
“Conquering Hell,” Crowley whispered, “Was only worth it if I could share any of this with you. One of the first things I think of in the morning is what would make you happy. And I could spend the rest of my life thinking of ways to make you happy, and nothing would please me more. My heart stopped when I heard you say you were betrothed, because my heart’s not complete if you’re not in my life. I have loved you for a long time, because you’re kind, and soft, and so, so brave. I’m kicking myself, you know, and it’s your fault.”
Aziraphale made a protesting sound, but Crowley shushed him and kissed him again.
“You were the one who put their wing over me in Eden. You took that first step to be my best friend. And now, even though you know it’s going against everything that you’re part of, you were the one to tell me how you felt. How can I measure up to that bravery?”
There was no way Aziraphale could give an eloquent enough response, so instead, he leaned up and kissed him again.
Crowley resisted smiling, because it would mean breaking the kiss, and that would be an absolute travesty. But this, this embrace, this passion, this was something a demon could get used to. He did dip the angel, because what was the point of a height difference if he didn’t use it to pull off the sweeping moves he knew his angel secretly liked.
The angel made a surprised noise, but it was a happy noise. Crowley could tell. He knew these things about Aziraphale, and now more than ever they came in handy. Without a doubt, it was the best moment of his life.
Which was why it was only fitting that it be interrupted.
There was a bolt out of the corner of his eye – a flash that he realized a second too late was lightening. It took another second for him to remember that he was in the Underworld, and it should not be possible for there to be lightening. Another second passed, there was a clap of thunder, and Crowley’s heart stopped again but for a very different reason. It was Gabriel. He had figured it out precisely two seconds too late, and now the Archangel was twenty feet away and could see them now. Apparently he had decided enough paperwork was enough, and it was time to take action. With barely any time to spare, Crowley tried to pull Aziraphale behind him, but it was too late.
“Demon!” Gabriel roared, storming toward him. Crowley drew himself to his full height, a snarl on his lips, prepared to curse the blasted archangel back to the cloud he floated from. But Aziraphale beat them both to the inevitable punch.
“Gabriel!” Aziraphale moved in front of Crowley. “Gabriel, don’t you dare hurt him!”
Gabriel refused to be surprised, but Crowley’s jaw dropped. Aziraphale never once raised his voice like this to his boss, even when he had had to fill out paperwork for fifty years to get the money to open his bookshop.
Yet far from look mad, Gabriel looked pitying. “Sunshine, you’ve been hurt, and this demon has been torturing you. You’re not thinking straight. But it’s okay, I’m here to take you back.”
“The hell you are,” Crowley snarled, and Gabriel drew back, as if to try and hit him.
“You can’t stop me, demon spawn!”
“Enough, both of you!” Aziraphale demanded. He gave a pleading look to Crowley, silently begging for a chance to resolve this. In turn, the demon gave him a look that told him he would get a few minutes, but nothing more. Crowley was only patient for Aziraphale – in getting him what he needed, or convincing the angel to do a favor or agree to something. No other angel, demon, or human was awarded the same luxury.
“Gabriel,” Aziraphale said, looking at his supervisor, “I appreciate you coming, it’s really very kind, and I know that you mean well, but I promise that I’ve been perfectly fine. Crowley hasn’t harmed me.”
“How can I believe that?” Gabriel asked, and Aziraphale felt his temper begin to rise. Finally, he had been able to tell Crowley how he felt, have those feelings returned, and now he was being expected to prevent Crowley and Gabriel from killing each other? It was hardly fair. Why did Gabriel doubt him, or think that he needed guidance? He didn’t need Gabriel to guide him, he was over six thousand years old!
So it was why Aziraphale raised his voice now. “Because I’m telling you I’m fine, and I’m not a liar!”
“Then how do you explain him molesting you a second ago? I did research on humans, I know what pornography looks like now!”
Gabriel then raised his eyebrows, as if he had just made a very good point that Aziraphale should be impressed by. Aziraphale gave a great sigh.
“Because…” Aziraphale took a breath. “Gabriel, it was because I love him. And he loves me.”
“What?” Gabriel gasped, pressing a hand to his chest in shock, “How? Is that even… how can you love him? And demons can’t love, every angel knows that!”
Aziraphale narrowed his eyes. “Loving Crowley is one of the easiest things I can do,” He snapped, ignoring the “ngk” from Crowley. Now was not the time for the demon to do one of his ‘syllables instead of words’ moments. “The hard part was not telling him for as long as I did. And I don’t know if demons can love or not. But this one does, and we are in love.”
Crowley coughed, so as not to grow too overwhelmed by Aziraphale. “I’ve loved him too. For a long time,” and then, because he couldn’t resist pulling one over on the wanker, he smirked, “So there.”
“Well, this is highly improper,” Gabriel said, and this was the closest to ‘flustered’ that Aziraphale had ever seen him. “He’s a demon. You’re an angel.”
“I’m the King,” Crowley reminded him angrily, “That bloody well counts for something. Royalty make ‘strategic marriages’ all the time.”
“And there’s Sandalphon to consider!” Gabriel cried out, as if there actually was Sandalphon to consider.
Aziraphale gave an indignant huff. “Really. Gabriel. I’m going to be honest with you. I have no intention, nor did I ever have any intention, of marrying him.”
The Archangel gave a dramatic gasp, once again clutching his chest in shock. Crowley couldn’t fight his own snigger.
“How could you say such a thing?” Gabriel said, “He was a perfect match for you!”
“Oh really?” Aziraphale challenged, narrowing his eyes. “Is that why he fought so hard to ‘save me’, when you all believed I was held against my will, and you all thought I was being tortured? Why he spent the last three months filling out paperwork to try and expedite my own return? Or try and send messages to me, or do anything to try and ‘save’ me and let me know he cared about me?”
It seemed to suddenly occur to Gabriel, and Aziraphale watched as his face began processing everything Aziraphale said, that maybe Sandalphon wasn’t the right angel for him. Sandalphon had not done any of what Aziraphale was mentioning. Sandalphon had just… worked on his projects, based on his docket. There had been no change in his work whatsoever. It seemed that Aziraphale was making a good point.
“Gabriel,” Aziraphale took a breath. “Listen. You have been… you have been a lovely boss. I have been so lucky to work for you. But your perception of Sandalphon doesn’t match the actual angel that would marry me.”
“But you can’t just marry a demon,” Gabriel said, still unwilling to let his prejudice go. “Think of the social ruin! And I can’t just allow that.”
Aziraphale clasped his hands, so the trembling would be minimal. This was it, the moment where Gabriel would order him up to Heaven, or order Crowley to let him leave. Crowley would then snap that he would do no such thing, because Aziraphale knew he could trust Crowley to keep him from having to make the decision. Better than most, Crowley understood how terrified Aziraphale was of resisting orders. It could mean falling, or being cast out, or punished in the cruel ways heaven was proficient at. His demon would protect him, as he had protected him in Paris, London, and so many other cities over time.
It would mean war between Heaven and Hell. Crowley would go that far for him. So would Gabriel. Aziraphale couldn't let them, and it was time for Aziraphale to make this decision himself.
“I can marry a demon,” Aziraphale decided, “And I’m going to.”
It was time he arranged his own marriage.
“Angel wait-“ Crowley said, but Aziraphale turned and ran. Aziraphale never made a habit of running – it was simply awful – but he needed to get to his destination before Crowley realized what he was planning.
“Hey!” Gabriel had shouted, but he didn’t understand the garden well enough, and was forced to trail after Crowley despite being the best runner.
Soon enough, Aziraphale had happened upon his goal: that center tree, with all the apples. The ones that would bind him to his demon, if he was judged worthy enough. Aziraphale only hesitated for a moment, and that one moment was spent sending a prayer to the Almighty, that he would be worthy enough to be Crowley’s partner. With no other time to spare, he reached out and took one.
Aziraphale had never actually seen Eve eat the apple, back in the Garden. For the briefest moment, he thought of her. Had she been desperate? Was she out of time? Did it feel like her world would end if she couldn’t bite into the fruit? If she had been half as desperate as him… Aziraphale had a greater appreciation for her choice. Without a second more to lose, as Crowley and Gabriel found him, Aziraphale bit into it.
“No!” Crowley helplessly shouted. Gabriel didn’t understand, but only for a moment.
The first bite had no taste, none that Aziraphale could parse out anyway. Not that he was going out of his way to take stock – the stakes were much too high for him to snack. Aziraphale quickly took a second bite, then a third, fourth, and so on. When he finally finished the whole apple, Aziraphale finally looked up, holding the core in his fist.
Crowley’s face was a cross between horror and awe, as if he didn’t know what to think or how to process what happened.
“Why did you do that?” He whispered. “Aziraphale?”
“Because I’m yours,” Aziraphale smiled. There was no weight of guilt or shame. It was the most relaxed he had ever felt. “It turns out that choosing you was quite easy after all.”
Any doubt Aziraphale may have had vanished by the look Crowley’s face. It was love. Pure love, the kind that was all his.
Their moment was broken by Gabriel. “What the fuck just happened?”
That was also the moment when the effects of the apple caught up to him. It felt like something bursting within him, and Aziraphale cried out in pain and lost his footing as his vision blurred. Crowley instantly rushed to his side, catching him before he hit the ground entirely.
“Angel!”
But Aziraphale didn’t hear his lover’s cry. There was a rushing in his ears that blocked all outside sound. Even his corporation didn’t seem to stay grounded within him. It was as if a part of him was floating above, seeing everything that happened. That was when he heard the voice.
‘Hello, Aziraphale’
The disembodied angel looked about. That voice… it was no one voice. It wasn’t the Almighty. It wasn’t Satan. But… it seemed to be a strange manifestation of the two opposite sides in one.
Aziraphale tried to reply. ‘Hello?’
‘It seems you answered our call for the young king.’
‘What call?’ Aziraphale questioned, ‘What’s happening?’
‘When he took over,’ The voice explained, ‘We knew that he was not meant to rule alone. The Highest and Lowest authorities on both sides grew this plant to be the answer. We made sure that no being would think to use it for their personal gain.’
‘Because whoever eats it becomes subservient?’
An odd sensation washed over him, Aziraphale realized belatedly that it was laughter. ‘Oh, no, that was… well. You would call it ‘poppycock’.’
‘You lied?’ Aziraphale was indignant, only remembering a moment later that this Voice was likely going to decide if he could keep living or not. ‘Erm, sorry.’
The laughter rang again. ‘Yes, little angel, we did lie. Sort of. Choosing this fruit, this life, is to make a permanent choice to be bound as the King’s Prince Consort. It is not a choice to be made for the sake of power or personal gain. The King is surrounded by demons, some who would wish to see him fall or usurp him. So it’s important that whoever make this choice make it with every intention to serve him and keep him at peace.’
‘So it’s not an obedience enchantment?’
‘No. But he is your King now.’
The thought filled Aziraphale with joy. He could hear the laughter sound again. ‘We thought you would like that. For that reason, for choosing this life, for your love, for your bravery, and your courage, we have deemed you worthy.’
That was the last thing he was told, before Aziraphale was thrust back into his corporation.
Crowley didn’t like to make a habit out of feeling terror. Whenever something bad happened, if it was his fault, he liked to try and ignore it or cancel it out with a different problem altogether. Holding Aziraphale though, seeing him passed out and motionless in his arms, Crowley was terrified. Because this wasn't something he could fix, and he hated not being able to fix problems for Aziraphale.
“What did you do?” Gabriel was hissing at him. The archangel tried to reach out and grab Aziraphale, but Crowley drew back and growled at him.
“He chose me,” The Demon King snarled, “Not you. Not your little posse. Or your side. He chose me. He loves me. Get it through your thick skull.”
"You think I don't know what that tree is?" Gabriel snarled. "You think I wouldn't recognize something that came from the Garden? It's been tainted. Part of it felt… evil. It was somehow both evil and holy and I know it's your fault. If he dies here it's war."
Crowley had never felt such anger for another in his life. "If you take him," Crowley vowed, "It will be."
Before Gabriel could give an angry retort, Aziraphale gave a heavy gasp. His eyes flew open, and he appeared wide awake and alert.
“Angel!” “Aziraphale!”
Aziraphale took a few more gasping breaths, his eyes widely searching for something. Crowley couldn’t say what, but the sight of his angel breathing and moving and alive was the greatest gift he could ask for.
“What happened?” Gabriel asked.
Crowley ignored him, waiting for Aziraphale’s breaths to even out.
“Angel, are you with me?”
Finally, Aziraphale looked at him, and Crowley lost his breath at the sight of him. His eyes were so wide, so overwhelmed. Aziraphale nodded. Crowley let out a sigh of relief.
“What happened?”
Gabriel huffed in annoyance, but Crowley ignored him again. He was good at it.
“I… I was… floating … somewhere up there,” Aziraphale gestured faintly above. Both Crowley and Gabriel looked up, but they saw nothing.
Aziraphale continued, “I… I heard… I think the Almighty? Satan? Whoever made the seeds and planted the tree.”
Both angel and demon gaped at him. Aziraphale didn’t stop. “They… Crowley, they approved .” He shifted, and Crowley helped him sit up. Neither moved though, not really, so Crowley was still holding him.
“But are you bound to me? In every way?” Crowley asked.
Aziraphale shook his head, both of them ignoring Gabriel sputtering.
“It’s not an obedience spell, but I’m your consort,” Aziraphale broke off, letting the words sink in for them both. They smiled at each other, “Crowley, I love you. And now we get to be together.”
Crowley grinned, a rare, genuine, elated, grin. “I love you,” He leaned in to kiss his angel, because he could. They continued to kiss for a few moments, before Gabriel cleared his threat. When that didn’t break them apart, Gabriel gave another pointed cough. Then another. They still did not part.
Finally, Gabriel said, “Okay, please stop this now.”
That broke Aziraphale and Crowley apart.
“Gabriel,” Aziraphale said firmly, “I just bound myself as Crowley’s Prince Consort. So I’m quite unavailable to marry any angel you try to bring me.”
“I’d kick them out anyway,” Crowley added, stealing another kiss.
Aziraphale watched Gabriel carefully, to see the emotions that came to his face. His former boss was not adept at masking how he felt. Even now, he could see the shock, the anger, the denial, and, finally, the resigned acceptance.
Gabriel gave a resigned sigh, “I can’t believe this.”
Neither Aziraphale nor Crowley said anything, determined to let him figure this out on his own.
“And you want him?” Gabriel said, asked but he clearly knew the answer. Aziraphale nodded anyway.
“In a way,” Aziraphale half-explained, half-reminded, “I’ve already married him.”
“Well,” Gabriel said, stretching out the ‘l’, “I guess…. I guess I had better get to the office and file some paperwork for this.”
“Oh!” Aziraphale smiled at him, “Thank you!”
Gabriel gave a half-hearted laugh, but he didn’t look angry. “Don’t think there’s any form that’s going to explain this,” he mused, “I’m probably going to have to invent a form just to have something to file. But if this is what you want… then… I’ll make it work upstairs.”
They didn’t need his permission, not with Aziraphale already eating the apple. Though all the same, it felt like a weight had lifted for Aziraphale.
“I appreciate your support,” Aziraphale said.
“Don’t thank me,” Gabriel said wryly, but without any heat. He stood up. “I’m going to check back in, for the reports, of course.”
“Of course,” Aziraphale agreed. Crowley snorted.
For a moment, Gabriel seemed to look angry. “I’m going to trust you demon, to take care of him.”
With a dramatic crack, there was a bright flash, and Gabriel was gone.
Crowley rolled his eyes. “Take care of him,” He mimicked, “As if I hadn’t been taking care of you for six thousand years, the nerve.”
Aziraphale gave an amused snort. “Would you like to debate that… or…” He gave Crowley a meaningful look.
The demon gaped at him, understanding at once. “You mean?” He gave a pointed look.
“Of course,” Aziraphale said, leaning into him once more. “I’m your Prince Consort, after all… shouldn’t we be consummating the relationship? After all, this is our wedding night, as it were.”
Aziraphale gave a delighted laugh as Crowley, needing no further prompting, stood with the angel in his arms like a new bride.
"You're right, we better make the most of it," he grinned, sweeping them both into the palace.
The walk from the gardens to the palace went in a blur. Aziraphale alternated between laughing at the excessively romantic gesture - he had legs! - and kissing his new husband. Goodness, he reflected, they surely wasted no time! They made their way back to Crowley's chambers, and the demon placed him onto his bed. Aziraphale shifted, reaching to pull off his clothing, when a pair of hands settled over his.
"Allow me," the King urged, and Aziraphale's throat went dry as he nodded. Aziraphale kept his eyes on his lover's face as his bowtie was undone, and his shirt unbuttoned.
"This isn't moving too fast?" Crowley asked, looking at him.
Aziraphale shook his head, but was touched at the question. "No, not at all. I… I daresay that we have been dating for almost two thousand years, even if we didn't know. It’s about time we got a wiggle on."
Crowley made an affronted noise, pulling Aziraphale's top layers off. He gently pushed the angel down and crawled on top of him, pulling off his pants.
"Wiggle on," he mocked, "I have been trying to court you since Wessex in 537, which would have gotten us together officially, don't try telling me I didn't know!"
Aziraphale laughed, and Crowley forgot about needing to be right at that beautiful sound. "That was not our first date!" He argued, "It was in Rome. I was the one to make the first move." This was punctuated with a satisfied wiggle.
That wiggle was not going to win today. Crowley leaned down, so he could nibble at the angel's neck, and his hands fumbled at his trousers. Aziraphale gasped, and gave an “Oh! Crowley, yes!” in response to the nibbling. The demon felt a rush of pride - Aziraphale liked being marked? He was rather good at marking what was his. This would be a good match indeed.
"You were very cute in Rome,” Crowley said, grinning as he pulled back to slide Aziraphale’s trousers and drawers off, “But that wasn’t our first date.”
Aziraphale leaned up to help him. “Yes, it was!” He reached to help push the demon’s jacket off, but his hands were again rebuffed. Crowley pulled his own jacket off and went back to kissing his neck, hands grabbing onto the angel’s sides. He had gotten to lightly caress Aziraphale while they danced, but now he had all the access he could ever want . All that lovely skin, which was just as smooth and soft as he’d dreamed. There was so much to grab at, kiss, and bite - and it was all his.
“Oh, oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale moaned as the King went to suck another bruise on his neck. Crowley moved down, sucking more bruises as he went down.
The demon lifted his head long enough to say again, “It wasn’t our first date,” and before Aziraphale could cry out in protest, he instead cried out in rapture as Crowley swallowed him down. Crowley moaned around his cock, and Aziraphale gasped at the sensation.
“Crowley,” he heard himself begging, “Crowley please, please!”
Crowley was devouring him at a languid pace, as if he had nowhere else he needed nor wanted to be, and was going to stay where he was for a while. Aziraphale buried his hands in the pillow behind him, not sure if he would want his hair pulled. His legs shook at the unrelenting pleasure, but Crowley had wrapped his arms around his thighs and was alternating between holding him in place and grabbing at his thighs.
Aziraphale twitched, trying not to let himself go too quickly. This was incredible, but it wasn’t what he wanted with his love for their first time!
“Crowley, Crowley,” he begged, “Please, dear, cease for a moment.”
With a pop, Crowley’s head swung up to look at him. Aziraphale admired the wideness of his pupils, the evident desire of someone who had not sated their fill. “If you’re making complete sentences, I’m not doing something right,” He mused.
The angel gave a rather uncharacteristic snort. “You’re doing plenty right, but this is wasn’t what I had envisioned for our first time.”
Crowley leaned, moving his body in an exaggerated fashion to rest his head on Aziraphale’s thigh. It was a lovely pillow, and he said as such to get Aziraphale to blush a lovely pink. “Alright, what do you picture for this time, my angel?”
‘ My angel ,’ Aziraphale reflected that he rather liked that. “I want, if you would be so inclined,” He asked very politely, “For you to join with me, biblically. To… to know me…”
Crowley could be a bastard when he wanted, it wasn’t just his angel. He pressed a kiss with a bit of a bite to his thigh, delighting in the resulting whimper. “Sorry darling, don’t understand that.”
Aziraphale was red now, both from the affection to the sensitive skin and being forced to use such coarse language. “To… park your Bentley in my garage…”
If Crowley didn’t get it, Aziraphale was going to hide in his quarters and never come out.
But the demon liked that phrasing, very much. “Oh, that’s what you want?” Crowley crawled up, wrapping his arms around him for a moment. Aziraphale reached up to run his fingers through the short red hair.
“I want to look at you,” Aziraphale said, pressing a kiss to his lips. “While we make love.”
Crowley groaned. “You’re a menace,” He lovingly snapped.
Aziraphale snickered, but that turned into a moan very quickly as the demon wrapped his legs around his waist, reaching between them to start stretching him. A quick miracle had lubed his fingers. They kissed, helping Aziraphale focus on that as the demon stretched him out. Crowley tilted his head to nibble at an ear when Aziraphale let out a cry - he had curled his finger to find his prostate.
“Gotcha,” Crowley whispered, and Aziraphale shivered in anticipation.
“It’s alright,” the King whispered to him, kissing his temple, “I got you.”
Aziraphale leaned up to give him a kiss. “I love you,” he whispered, in between his own exaltations of approval. Gently, Crowley moved his fingers, stretching him with a single-minded focus in order to make sure his angel would feel nothing but pleasure when they joined. It gave him the added bonus of hearing and seeing the way Aziraphale’s face changed with each twist of his fingers and every brush against his prostate.
Those beautifully expressive eyes were welling up in joy, and Crowley leaned down to kiss the tears that fell from his eyes. The angel linked his fingers behind Crowley’s head, because he wanted to look at his lover and feel as close as possible.
After a few moments, Aziraphale interrupted him, trying to form a coherent sentence. Crowley was rather proud that he was finding it difficult.
“Need something angel?” He asked, giving a cheeky grin. It was difficult, very difficult, but he resisted the temptation to nibble some more as Aziraphale regained his breath.
“I think that I’m ready,” Aziraphale decided, “And I would rather come on your cock then your fingers.”
Fuck , the things Aziraphale could say. Crowley’s eyes burned for the love of him. Just for that, he leaned down to flick a nipple with his tongue so the angel would squirm.
"You'll come when I decide you come," Crowley growled, and gave a wolfish grin as Aziraphale pinked under him. “You like it when I’m in charge? When I command you?”
Aziraphale was still blushing, and that was something Crowley would never grow tired of. “I… look. When you take charge, when you hold me, when you command me… it affects me. It does something. It moves me. You move me, you always have. When I watch you command the others, walk with such assured confidence, and lean into your role, Crowley, not swooning into your arms has been the greatest hardship I have had to endure.”
How could Aziraphale continue to say this? Just make pontifications of his love, as if it were easy? It seemed that once Aziraphale decided to commit to something, his angel did nothing halfway. What a consort he had.
Crowley withdrew his fingers, smirking at the displeasure that Azirapahle voiced to that. But he wasn’t going to leave his angel wanting, hell no. Aziraphale gasped as Crowley slid inside him, arching his back in rapture.
“Are you alright?” The King asked. He waited a moment, searching Aziraphale’s face for any sign of pain, but he didn’t see one. Aziraphale instead smiled widely at him, leaning up for a kiss.
“I feel wonderful,” The angel replied, “Please, please make love to me.”
Another night, Crowley would make him beg. He would draw it out, tease him, edge him until the angel cried from the torture. They would figure out how much Aziraphale liked to be ordered and what orders he enjoyed. They would get collars, items to mark Aziraphale as his both in and out of the bedroom, so there was no question of who he belonged to.
But not tonight. Tonight was about them, about their joining for the very first time, and they had all the time in the world to love each other. Crowley moved at a steady pace, kissing Aziraphale as their bodies moved together. As one, they moved together, Aziraphale moving his hands to grasp at Crowley’s back. The demon groaned as his well-manicured fingernails dug into his back.
Their pleasure rose and together as Crowley reached between them to grasp at Aziraphale’s member. Aziraphale whimpered, shuddering in his arms.
“Please, Crowley, please-”
“Please, what?”
“Please, my King, let me come,” Aziraphale begged, “You said I could when you decided, please, please-”
Oh, oh, that’s what this was? Crowley could hardly believe his luck, that he could have an angel, this most perfect angel, his angel beg for him and obey .
He grinned, speeding up his pace as Aziraphale sobbed in need. “Come for me,” Crowley ordered, and that was the final act. Aziraphale shuddered, crying out in rapture as he came between them. His cries turned into whimpers as Crowley didn’t stop. The demon kissed away his tears, determined to work him towards a second orgasm. His method proved effective, and Aziraphale sobbed once as he came again. Crowley groaned out his own release, kissing away the tears that fell.
Their pace began to wind down, and Aziraphale focused on catching his breath. Crowley let himself just be for a moment, letting his face settle into Aziraphale’s neck. There were marks from where he’d bitten earlier, and now he gently kissed one.
“How are we?” Crowley asked, “Are you here angel?”
There was a keening sound, but no actual words from his normally prolific angel. Crowley gave another kiss and lifted himself, and was rewarded with the gaze of his mate completely blissed out on his - their, it was their’s now - bed. The King grinned, leaning down to kiss his forehead.
“I’ll be right back.”
Aziraphale waited, humming to himself as he stretched out. That old phrase, the one about feeling like a cat with a canary, came to him and he giggled lightly. So many cliches, ones that used to make him roll his eyes when he read them, were now being re-evaluated and sorted to be perfectly viable under the present conditions. And just for thinking of the phrase ‘viable under the present conditions’ he giggled all the more.
His demon returned a few moments later with some towels, and Aziraphale could feel them move across his skin, gently dabbed in water, and they helped clean him. Everything was a bit fuzzy, but he decided that as long as his King was with him, that it was alright. All he wanted at that moment was to cuddle into Crowley’s side under his blankets. Crowley gave a laugh, and Aziraphale realized that he must have said that out loud. Yet it still got him what he wanted, Crowley slid into bed a few moments later, and Aziraphale found himself being turned so he could rest his head on his King’s shoulder.
“Was that alright?” Crowley asked with a whisper, gently running one of his hands through his hair. Aziraphale made a noise that sounded like a purr, nuzzling closer.
“P’rfect,” He mumbled, already falling asleep. Crowley pressed a kiss to his temple, drifting off himself. Tomorrow they would have all the time to explore each other more thoroughly. It was their honeymoon now, after all.
----Several Months Later-----
“Why are we being kept waiting around for them?” Hastur growled, slouching petulantly in his seat. The Dark Council was all gathered in what was the Dining Hall, all seated around the great table. They were supposed to meet to decide the agenda for the upcoming decade, something they had done countless times before, and this required the entire council present at once. Though the meeting could not start until the King arrived, and he was late .
Beelzebub raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “Because he’s the King, newly married, and they set the rules. He doesn’t wait for us, we wait for him.”
“I can’t believe,” Hastur said, still not willing to let go of his bad mood (though most on the council knew this had more to do with him wanting to be grouchy than anything else), “That we have to listen to an angel now. What kind of Hell are we in that our King would listen to him before us?”
“You’re just in a bad mood,” Dagon jeered, grinning in a way that accentuated her spiked teeth, “Because the Prince Consort criticized your report the other day and he was right.”
Ligur sniggered as Hastur sputtered, but no one missed that he didn’t deny it. They also knew perfectly well that Hastur didn’t mind the Prince Consort. Not when hearing about moments that Aziraphale could take his own revenge and be petty. Demons loved revenge, and they loved it when people were petty. But someone had to lean into the principle of the thing, being wary of change. And Hastur was plenty wary.
The moment was broken as the Usher banged his spear against the ground.
“Announcing,” He proclaimed, “His Dark Majesty Crowley, and the Prince Consort.”
All demons stood as the doors opened, and Crowley and Aziraphale made their way into the meeting room. Aziraphale was holding onto Crowley’s arm, leaning into him, and moving at a slower pace. The king had no reason to encourage him to walk faster, he looked proud more than anything. They made their way to the head of the table.
“Alright,” Crowley said, already sounding bored as he walked, “I’m only here ‘cause my angel told me this was important, so this better not take long.”
Ligur wanted to make a jape about them being in a hurry to go off and fuck, but he valued his corporation and said nothing.
Crowley gave a wave, and the chair at the end, usually reserved for him, stretched out slightly. He pressed a kiss to Aziraphale’s temple and then sat. Aziraphale sat next to him, but they were so close he was practically on the demon’s lap.
“Right,” Beelzebub said, not bothering to react. This had been the new normal, and as long as the work was done, they didn’t care how close the demon and angel sat. If anything, they were glad to have Aziraphale there, he helped keep Crowley focused. Beelzebub passed over a report to Crowley, and Aziraphale opened it for him, both peering at it.
“Ready to begin?” Crowley asked, but the council didn’t answer. They knew who he was talking to.
Aziraphale smiled, giving him a quick kiss. “Ready dearest. Let’s begin.”