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Three blissful days straight, Aziraphale had awoken in Crowley’s bed. Each of the evenings prior were filled with intimacies that Aziraphale couldn't have thought possible between two people. He’d never been so naked with another, physically or emotionally. So seen. So loved.
He couldn’t get enough of Crowley. Aziraphale knew that he was perhaps being too clingy, but he couldn’t help himself. And it wasn’t like Crowley was complaining. In fact, Crowley encouraged it all. Near constant touches, kissing every chance they got, lovemaking every night. Crowley had taken three days in line with Aziraphale’s days off. They’d only separate to answer nature’s call!
And yet, Crowley smiled and indulged Aziraphale.
Crowley’s arms tightened around him. They were still in bed, naked, and he could feel Crowley’s growing interest prodding his backside. Crowley groaned and bit Aziraphale’s shoulder, making him moan and push his hips back to meet Crowley’s lazy thrust.
“Naughty, angel,” Crowley murmured, his voice thick from sleep. “You can’t tempt me right now... I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“Mmmm, I know… I can feel it sliding between my cheeks–”
“ Angel !” Crowley laughed and buried his face in Aziraphale’s curls. “I meant I have a gift and it should be here very soon. So we should get up.”
Aziraphale pouted. “But I don’t want to.” What he wanted was for Crowley to push him face first into the bed and take him. Honestly, he wasn’t sure why it hadn’t happened yet. True, they hadn’t the stamina of young men, but there had been plenty of opportunities. They’d kept to hands and rutting, which was fine - more than! But… Aziraphale, ever the hedonist, wanted more . The Evil Twin had managed to get a whisper or two in about making sure not to give himself to Crowley entirely, lest he get bored with him, but Crowley had become an expert at spotting and dispelling Aziraphale’s inner demon.
Crowley groaned again. “You are not being fair!”
It was then Aziraphale realized he’d opened his thighs at some point and trapped Crowley’s cock between them.
Crowley’s mobile rang. As Crowley tried to pull away, Aziraphale tightened his hold and thrust back. Crowley gasped and pulled Aziraphale closer to him, meeting his movements. “Fuck, Aziraphale.”
The doorbell rang.
They both groaned, a perfect mixture of pleasure and annoyance. “Hurry,” Aziraphale whispered. “Take me.” He snapped his hips frantically. He heard Crowley’s breath hitch. They hadn’t spoken about penetration yet, Aziraphale wasn’t even sure Crowley enjoyed it, but it seemed his words hit something in Crowley as he began to thrust faster between slick thighs. “Yes,” Aziraphale breathed when Crowley reached around to grab his cock. Relief and arousal were shooting through him quickly, fueled by the knowledge someone was waiting just outside their door.
The doorbell rang again, followed by a knock this time. The very thought of not finishing what they started filled Aziraphale with something desperate. He didn’t want it to end. He didn’t want to share Crowley in any capacity. He needed to be completely consumed, and this was nowhere near enough!
Aziraphale’s orgasm was sudden, but not very strong. Still, he was breathless when he looked down to watch Crowley fall over the edge between his thighs.
Once upon a time, seeing his stump so clearly in the throes of sex would have horrified him. Now he barely registered it. All he could focus on was Crowley’s reddened head spurting its release as Crowley groaned into the back of his neck. For now, Aziraphale was satisfied. He’d made Crowley feel good. And yet, there was a pinprick of disappointment deep in his gut he could not explain. He felt close to tears. What is wrong with me?
DING DING
“Fuck,” Crowley groused, pressing a quick kiss to Aziraphale’s damp curls. “Sorry, love. I really do have to get that. Take your time getting ready, but you’ll need to come out too, alright?”
Aziraphale watched Crowley quickly get dressed with a morose pout. “Why?”
Crowley didn’t spare him a glance as he pulled his shirt on, but Aziraphale could hear the grin in his voice. “That’s your surprise.”
“Can’t you show me in here?”
Finally, Crowley turned as he fired off a text. Their eyes met, the glint making Aziraphale crave Crowley more.
At that moment, it wasn’t about the sex. He just wanted to be surgically attached to the man. That’s all. Melt into his skin and become one being. I sound like a psychopath.
Aziraphale felt a tap between his eyebrows and he focused on Crowley who had poked him there. “Stop thinking bad thoughts,” Crowley chided softly. “I promise you, you’re going to love it.”
Aziraphale took his hand and kissed his knuckles. “I already have everything I could ever want,” he whispered as his eyes threatened to spill again.
“Angel,” Crowley murmured, dragging his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair. “Please indulge me.”
And how could he say no?
In the end, whoever the visitor was had to wait fifteen minutes for Aziraphale to finally emerge. Aziraphale chose to wheel himself out of the room and found three individuals chatting and drinking tea. Crowley, Eric, and…
“Dr. Miller, how lovely to see you again.” Aziraphale smiled politely and shook her hand. If Crowley had mentioned that a house visit checkup was his surprise, he would have stayed in bed. But then he caught sight of a very large black rectangular case with a bow on it.
Dr. Miller chuckled. “He insisted on putting a bow on it.”
“I made it,” Eric supplied proudly.
Crowley stayed silent, hiding his nervous smile behind a fist. “Eric, would you please help the doctor unwrap Aziraphale’s gift?”
“Aw, I just wrapped it.” But Eric unfastened the bow, unclasped the case, and opened it.
“Oh,” Aziraphale gasped and held a trembling hand to his chest.
The doctor approached and lifted several pieces of the new prosthetic and assembled it. She held it out on both arms for Aziraphale to inspect. “What do you think,” she asked kindly. “Shall we try this on?”
Aziraphale nodded silently, looking at the sleek prosthetic with awe.
Of course, Crowley had gotten the top of the line microprocessor prosthetic with an electric mechanism, sensors, and waterproof too. He’d spent a fortune. While holding Crowley’s hand, Aziraphale took his first steps wearing his new limb and instantly began blubbering like the emotional mess he was. It was only hard to walk because it was hard to breathe. As usual, Crowley held him in his arms until the sobbing subsided and he tried again. Simple, smooth–the thing worked better than his real leg! And he walked . He heard the doctor mention continuing physical therapy, but he hardly felt like he needed it. But, just to be safe, he agreed to use his crutch until he got the go-ahead to forgo it.
There was a vortex of emotions twisting through him and Aziraphale couldn’t make heads or tails of it. He should have been happy, and he was! But there was a churning in his gut too that didn’t feel good.
You have everything you need now, whispered the Evil Twin. He’s fixed you enough for you to go your own way. But you won’t. Because you always want more. And you’ll keep taking from him until you’ve leeched all the love he has for you.
So, for the next couple of days, Aziraphale swung from consuming guilt to clandestine happiness and everything in between.
Aziraphale opened the door to the flat, awkwardly juggling his keys, crutch, umbrella and the strap of his rapidly slipping bag. It was never easy, even with his new prosthetic, but today, long hours and bad weather had conspired to make him ache in every muscle, leaving his balance even more uncertain than usual.
He was carefully untangling himself from his coat when he heard Crowley's voice, the tenor rising from a distant murmur to a sharp tone that carried clearly from his office to the front door.
"If I cared about my father’s opinions, I would be taking his calls! He's got no business dragging you into his bullshit! For fuck's sake Warlock, have you completely forgotten how pissed off you were when you found out he had PI's following Adam?"
Aziraphale's stomach lurched and he had to steady himself against the wall. No, no, no, Crowley could not find out -–
An employment background check was one thing, it wouldn't have gone deeply enough to find the things he couldn't bring himself to face, much less to have Crowley know. Things that would surely make him turn away in disgust, leaving Aziraphale alone again, and more devastated that any of his previous tragedies had left him.
But a private investigator… that was another story.
A PI, especially one as thorough as someone in Crowley's circle could afford - they would almost certainly be able to peel back the layers of deception that made up his past.
Crowley had never mentioned his father by name, but the man must share Crowley’s wealth. After all, Crowley was managing the company his father founded. And now that Crowley senior knew of Aziraphale’s existence, it was understandable he’d want to know who his son was dating. Oh, lord. Did the Crowley’s know his family personally? Were they part of the same social circle? That would be… inconvenient to put it lightly.
Somehow the thought of his family was less frightening- it wasn't as though he had chosen his relatives, and decisions made as a desperate teenager couldn't reflect nearly so poorly on his judgment or character.
Not like what had happened with Michael.
Thankfully, his mind refused to go any further down that path, he knew the pitfalls and quicksand in that direction far too well by now, but he couldn't stop the wave of shame and fear from rolling over him, hot and cold by turns.
Aziraphale swallowed hard – he was absolutely not going to vomit on the foyer floor. With his luck, he'd fall face down in his own sick and Crowley would hear, would know he'd been eavesdropping –
Crowley.
He couldn’t hear Crowley's voice anymore, so Aziraphale gathered his wits enough to open the door behind him and push it firmly shut again with a thump.
Crowley came around the corner. His smile was tight, lacking the easy softness and joy that Aziraphale had so quickly become addicted to. Was this how he would look when he found out?
"Hey Angel - what's wrong? You're white as a ghost!"
He chuckled nervously. He felt like a ghost on hearing the first words of an exorcism.
"Just the weather, my dear. Could you help me with all this?" He gestured to indicate the umbrella, packages and cane, made awkward by his coat starting to slip down his arm.
"Seriously Aziraphale, there's no need for you to be running errands all over town! We could have gotten it all delivered." He plucked the things from Aziraphale's grasp, then unfastened the cane from his wrist to help him out of his coat. “Here, lean on me.”
"Let's get you on the couch with a blanket. Do you want tea or cocoa? I haven't done anything about dinner yet…got a bit distracted."
Distracted . What else had Warlock said that Aziraphale hadn't been able to hear? Nothing good certainly. How was he going to face the young man over dinner? Would there be any way to avoid an ugly public scene?
Given some of Crowley's previous outbursts, Aziraphale was afraid it might not be possible. His stomach lurched again at the thought of yet another public confrontation, Crowley losing his temper, being thrown out again, stared at... Aziraphale didn't know if he could bear it.
He must have been silent too long, Crowley's brows were pinching together, his mouth twisting, "You okay, angel? C'mon, sit down."
How long had he been lost in his own dread, staring blankly? He sank down onto the couch, groaning involuntarily at the relief of taking his weight off of his stump.
Crowley fussed with tucking him into a blanket, propping pillows around and behind him.
“Tea, dinner? What can I get you, angel?" He touched Aziraphale's face, which was still clammy with cold sweat, and his frown deepened. "You really don't look good, are you sure you're alright?"
"I'm sure I will be once I've warmed up dear. Tea would be lovely, but maybe just some toast for now, I find myself a bit queasy." Distracting Crowley from the real issue with minor complaints made Aziraphale feel manipulative, but he knew he wouldn't be able to enjoy Crowley's tender attentive care much longer. If things went as badly as he feared with Warlock he had so little time left.
"I'll fix you some soup or order some. You can't just have toast. Do you want that pasta soup with the meatballs? Anything you want, angel."
"I think I'll have the coconut soup from that lovely Thai restaurant we tried last week. With just a bit of chili to warm me up. I'd rather have you order something than be so far away as in the kitchen." His attempt at a flirtatious smile felt stiff, but it was enough to soften Crowley's frown.
"Right, I'll fix tea and toast and be right back. You pick something to watch. Do you want to change into pajamas, maybe take your prosthetic off?" His voice was gentle, he knew Aziraphale could be touchy in the subject, especially on bad days, but his worry and need to dote had overcome any awkwardness tonight.
"Let’s wait and see how I'm feeling after tea and some rest."
"Tea, right." Crowley dropped a kiss on Aziraphale's curls and headed for the kitchen, pulling out his phone and opening the delivery app as he went. The phone beeped with a message and he swore under his breath and he flicked it away.
"Is something wrong, my dear?" Of course something was wrong, everything was wrong, he was wrong, and soon Crowley would realize it.
"Just work bullshit, Nothing that can't wait."
Wait. Yes, he would wait, would bask in Crowley's love and care as long as he had left. It wouldn't, could never be enough, but it was far more than he deserved.
"You deserve a hell of a lot more than tea and soup, angel."
Oh dear, he'd said that aloud. At least he hadn't let anything more incriminating slip. "So you keep reminding me, darling. I do try to remember, but it can be hard not to fall into old bad habits of thought."
"Yeah, don't listen to those thoughts, listen to me . I have it on good authority that I'm extremely clever." Crowley winked and went into the kitchen.
Aziraphale took a deep breath, inhaling Crowley's scent from the blanket, concentrating on its warmth and softness, the plush cushions under him, the easing of his aches. He still had all of this for a little longer.
He needed to store up as many memories as he could before the inevitable end.