Chapter Text
Crowley was completely and utterly stunned. Aziraphale had left.
Crowley knew what he had done was wrong, he fucking knew it, yet he still did it because he couldn’t fucking resist Aziraphale. His lips were soft, and even though they had both drank the same tea, he tasted so sweet that Crowley didn’t mind it. There was so much Crowley thought the moment he laid eyes on Aziraphale: He had dressed up for him, he was adorable, he smelled so fucking good, and Crowley wanted what he couldn’t have. It was funny. He had wanted to get close to Aziraphale for so long, yet now here he was, fucking it up by snogging the man senselessly when he knew he was taken.
Nice going, Mr. Bachelor Forever.
Crowley raked his hands through his hair and breathed a heavy sigh. He was still horny as fuck, too, which didn’t help—he couldn’t believe he nearly fucked a taken man. This was highly unlike himself. Yes, he was a man known for evil—he was never up to any good, and he’s stolen people’s boyfriends before—but he had principles now! He couldn’t help it when Aziraphale looked so delicious, and it was apparent he was not happy with his relationship. Shit, he hoped Aziraphale didn’t bloody hate him now.
Crowley groaned, sliding his hands against his face, and then got his shit together. He turned off the TV and decided a shower was in order, perhaps a cold one or a hot and steamy one where he had a nice wank to get his frustrations out.
Crowley hadn’t even wanted sex much anymore. He chalked it up to not feeling any attraction at all, finding sex boring and always lacking. He never enjoyed it, not with his previous partners, and he had given it and romance up years ago. There had been rumors about him having secret lovers coming to and from his apartment, but those stories were fake, and those were just delivery people. Crowley always laughed with Bee and Anathema about that, especially since he had explicitly said in interviews that he had no interest in having any partner.
But then there was Aziraphale. Oh, Aziraphale… Crowley had had many thoughts about Aziraphale throughout the years. Perhaps it was a bit weird that he was the center of any fantasies that he did have, especially when they had only met in passing, but the man could act, and he could pull anything off. He was curvy and well-rounded, and he didn’t give a fuck what people thought about him and his weight. He played any role, and he played it fantastically, only ever having a few bad roles that he must’ve been forced into.
And now here he was, mentally cursing himself for nearly fucking the man when he was practically married to a guy, but… he didn’t control himself for a reason. Something was up between Aziraphale and this Gabriel person, and it wasn’t a Good Thing. Aziraphale seemed sad when he talked about that man, and it was evident from how he beat around the bush that Gabriel had done something unbelievably shitty. So, Crowley didn’t feel the slightest bit bad—he only felt bad that he hurt Aziraphale with his actions, but he couldn’t give two fucks about Gabriel.
Gabriel, Gabriel, Gabriel… Why was that name so familiar?
Crowley shook his thoughts off and decided he would take care of things. He'd jerk off in the shower, take the damn shower, and then lied down in his bed watching TV for the afternoon while also debating on whether or not he should text Aziraphale.
So, he did.
[Crowley]: im really sorry bout what i did. I'll see you next week at the table read.
And, of course, Aziraphale didn’t respond. Why would he? Crowley threw his phone across the room and sighed. He was frustrated. Did he already fuck up a potential friendship he had wanted for ages because he couldn’t keep it in his pants? Come on, who could fucking resist Aziraphale Z. Fell when he dressed up for him! Oh, God, he was so fucking beautiful, and how he acted? It was even better up close and personal.
Yeah, he was fucked.
Aziraphale never responded to him, and Crowley was crushed. He knew this would be a consequence of his actions, but he didn’t think it would run until the table read. Two weeks later, he was standing outside the production building with his hands jammed into his pockets, nerves getting the best of him. He tried not to think, but with his brain, he always thought about something. He sighed, deciding to say fuck it, and stepped into the building and rode up the elevator to his floor.
Shit, shit, shit, shit…
Aziraphale was already there because, of course, he was! Punctual, he had been described, and very fucking pretty. He was wearing a brown sweater dress with a turtleneck, his white-blonde hair curly and fluffy, and he looked good (man, Crowley wanted to run his fingers through it) with a pretty smile.
“Hello, Crowley,” Aziraphale greeted first, his hands folded neatly on the table.
“Hi.” Crowley held his hand up, then sat down next to him. “How’ve you been?”
“I’m…” Aziraphale hesitated. “Okay…”
“Aziraphale…”
“I apologize for never texting you back,” Aziraphale stopped him before he could say anything. Crowley raised a brow. “I’ve been going through a lot since that day, and then Gabriel…” He sighed. “You saw the article, right?”
“And you saw that I commented and told them to mind their own business, yeah?” Crowley crossed his arms against his chest, huffing. “I saw it. It was ridiculous. I’m sorry I caused you trouble.”
There had been an article that came out two days after their meeting—“Aziraphale Fell Caught Rushing From Anthony Crowley’s Apartment?! Romance Gone Bad?” What a cheesy fucking title, Crowley has thought. He knew it must have caused much hurt for Aziraphale, though, especially since he was the one with the partner… the one who was supposedly cheating on Aziraphale (and Crowley thought that was the truth). There had been rumors about Aziraphale and how his partner, Gabriel, had not been faithful for a long time. Crowley wouldn’t pry on something he shouldn’t know, of course, and he wouldn’t be one of those fucks who did nothing but gossip.
But he was worried. Very worried.
“It’s okay. You… didn’t mean to,” Aziraphale smiled brightly at him. There was that signature smile. Fuck. “How are you?”
“I’m, mm, meh.” Crowley shrugged dramatically, which caused Aziraphale to laugh. At least it wasn’t too awkward. “Look—”
“Ah! Looks like everyone is here now!” The director, Michael, exclaimed loudly. “Fantastic. Okay, so… First off, this will be the only read-through. We are reading through the first episode to see if there is chemistry, mainly between Aziraphale and Crowley. There have been some changes to the script. If you will look at the script in front of you, please look over it to see some of the changes we did. I’ll let Eric take over from here.”
Eric, the writer for the show, cleared his throat. “So, I’ve decided to change the show's direction and push the romance off slightly. I want more tension between the two characters; eventually, it snaps. It doesn’t make sense to have them kiss and start the romance right away—the show would be too boring, and there wouldn’t be much of a plot.” He smiled at both Aziraphale and Crowley. “So, there will be no kissing scene in episode one. I want this to be a multi-season series, so I was thinking of them sharing a drunken, sloppy kiss and having a one-night stand at the end of the season. After his drunken haze, Anthony's character begins to realize the severity of the situation. He wants to continue things but doesn’t want to jeopardize the one thing he has been working on for years for a man he’s only known for months.
The season will end with Crowley saying they must focus on the research as much as he desires the romance. He can’t let his heart get the better of him—his character has been burned before, and he still hasn’t gotten over the trauma even though it had been years.”
“So… There will be no passionate kiss scene…” Aziraphale mumbled, biting on his bottom lip. “Until the end of the season? And it’s a sex scene?”
“Yes.”
“But a lot of… tension?”
“Sexual tension,” Eric grinned. “Lots of it. Prime approved of it. Thought of it as an amazing idea.”
Aziraphale breathed. “Oh. Oh dear.” He flipped through the script, and Crowley watched him curiously. “Will there be a second season?”
“Hopefully, if we can get there.” We never know what Prime will do…” Eric sighed. It was one of the few streaming services that would take the show, especially since there would be a lot of nudity. Crowley knew this since he had been told that he would be naked often when he took on the role. “We’re still revising the script. There might be a kiss somewhere in the middle of the first that Aziraphale’s character will initiate, but he quickly apologizes—it’s just a stolen kiss because of a heated gaze that he couldn’t ignore. What do you guys think? It’s the one thing that begins the breaking of the dam?”
“This sounds genius. I think I like that idea.” Crowley finally piped up. He had one leg crossed over the other and his arm draped against the back of Aziraphale’s chair. He raised his brow towards Eric. “I hope we get a second season, especially if that means working with Aziraphale. The first season already sounds fantastic.”
“I—!” Aziraphale’s cheeks flushed a bright red. “I agree…”
Crowley was somewhat disappointed about the script change, of course. He wanted the chance to kiss Aziraphale again and hopefully not fuck it up since they would have been directed. He couldn’t believe they did all that for nothing… well, not nothing; it would happen either way, but Aziraphale might have been too soon to practice it. Something might happen, and his heart wouldn’t be in it again, and then he would need to practice again… Oh. You know what, maybe this is a good change…
Aziraphale seemed distraught. He had been tense ever since Eric mentioned an added sex scene, and he couldn’t look Crowley in the eyes. Crowley didn’t mind it. They had put themselves in an awkward situation, and neither could do anything about it. Crowley decided, however, to give Aziraphale’s shoulder a squeeze in hopes of distracting him and reassuring him that everything would be okay. That’s when he finally looked up at Crowley, eyes wide and confusion settling in his facial features, before he smiled and nodded. Crowley took his hand away and straightened up.
“Let’s do this, yeah?” Crowley grinned, speaking to everyone in the room. “We start filming on Monday, correct?”
“Yes, correct!” The director nodded. “Now, let’s start, shall we?”
Crowley and Aziraphale had fantastic chemistry with one another, even without adequately acting out their scenes. They read through the script like it was nothing, giving each other the exact looms that had been envisioned, and they left the directors and producers stunned by the end. The rest of the cast didn’t know why they were there and had voiced this jokingly. Everyone was a delight to work with, and by the end of it all, a few changes had been made to the direction, and a few pointers were given.
When they were released from the room, Crowley noticed that Aziraphale lingered, staring at his phone with a puzzled expression. Crowley couldn’t help himself. He had to see what was wrong.
“You okay?”
“Huh?” Aziraphale let out a soft sound, seemingly surprised. “Oh, you’re still here?”
“Well, don’t sound so disappointed that I am…” Crowley stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Sorry for interrupting.”
“N-No! Nothing to be sorry about… I apologize, I’m just… Ah,” Aziraphale sighed, slowly seating himself. “I’m sorry…”
Crowley’s face softened. He sat beside him but didn’t touch him as much as he wanted. He knew the touches earlier had been a lot, but he couldn’t help himself. This time, he would. “What’s going on?”
“It’s… Gabriel. He was very cross with me this morning and has decided that he would not be picking me up. Now, I have to call my driver after giving him the day off and tell him to come to pick me up; therefore, I am being a bother.” Aziraphale pressed his face into his hands. “I think I might just take the bus. Perhaps I should start taking my car around so I won’t have to bother anyone.”
“If you’re uncomfortable driving, you shouldn’t be forced to do it,” Crowley sighed. He crossed his arms against his chest and leaned back in the chair. “I can take you home.”
“No!” Aziraphale shook his head quickly. “I wouldn’t want to burden you, either. Plus, if Gabriel is home, he will be furious you took me home.”
“Why?”
“…” Aziraphale bit his bottom lip, turning his face away. “He… suspects something happened between us.”
“…” Crowley clenched his fists. He was angry, trying not to show it visibly. Who does this man think he is? “I’m sorry to point this out, but isn’t he the guy who cheated on you? Multiple times? For years, to be more precise? Why are you still with him?”
Aziraphale fell silent. He didn’t look up to meet Crowley’s gaze, which had the man tense. He stuck his nose somewhere it didn’t belong. Fuck. When Crowley was about to say something else, Aziraphale finally spoke, “I can’t leave him. It might work. He has been my everything for so long, and I don’t want it to ruin the value of the show we’re both starring in. I’m scared.”
Crowley’s face softened. He relaxed in his chair, unable to take his eyes off Aziraphale. He shook, and it was Crowley’s fault. “I get that.” He held his hand out, an invitation for Aziraphale to hold it. He could feel his soft hand against his own, which caused tingles to run up Crowley’s spine. Finally, Aziraphale looked up at him. “Let me take you home, okay? And listen, that guy isn’t good for you, but you’re an adult, so you make your own decisions. Just know that I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”
There was a twinkle in Aziraphale’s eyes and sparks of happiness. It was as if Crowley's words had been enough, which did things to Crowley he couldn’t quite understand. He wanted this man, but more than that—he wanted to be there for him. Aziraphale was fragile and needed someone in his life, even if they both felt something for one another. It was evident by how Aziraphale gazed at him or how he squeezed his hand and didn’t let go. There was tension, a lot of it, and one day, Crowley hoped it would genuinely be broken, and he could get his hands on Aziraphale for more than a few short minutes.
“All right…” Aziraphale gave in. “Take me home then.” He slid his hand from Crowley’s, cheeks flushed pink as he got up from his chair.
Disappointed by the lack of warmth, Crowley shrugged it off and got up. They would walk out of the room, Aziraphale being kind enough to turn off the lights and out the doors to the London streets. Crowley’s Bentley was parked a tiny bit away, so they would have to walk to it. They had a short conversation where Aziraphale barely looked at Crowley and seemed to fidget. It wasn’t like he’d make a pass on him! As much as Crowley wanted to touch and feel Aziraphale, he was taken, even if it was the very loose definition since his boyfriend was a complete and total asshole.
When they were alone in the Bentley, Crowley realized that maybe he should’ve had Aziraphale call his driver. “You don’t have to be so nervous around me. I’m not going to do anything.”
Aziraphale lifted his head. “Oh. I… I didn’t mean to seem so nervous. I just…” He sighed, placing his hands on his thighs (supple and thick thighs, Crowley couldn’t help but think). “I keep… thinking about the moment we had together.”
“Oh?” Crowley raised a brow, staring down at Aziraphale. “You have?”
Aziraphale nodded his head shyly. “I have. It was quite the memorable kiss, Crowley.” He bit down on his bottom lip as he glanced up toward Crowley. “It cannot, under any circumstances, happen again…”
“I think I’ve gathered that.” Crowley turned his attention to behind them, backing out of his parking space. “If you think that will stop me from thinking about you, then you’re mistaken. I want to be your friend just as much as I want to be your lover. We can’t help what we feel, and I know you’re with Gabriel. I’m not going to cross any boundaries despite my feelings and how I despise Gabriel. I’m going to respect your choices. You barely know me, anyway.”
Aziraphale went silent once again, fiddling with his fingers. Crowley glanced at him, seeing the frown on his face. What was he even thinking? Crowley didn’t know why he was confessing what he did, either. Something about Aziraphale made him want to say stupid things and be an idiot. Shit. The fact that he would have to act around him and be looked at by him when he was naked drove him insane. The thing was, he would see Aziraphale naked as well. Perhaps that would drive him completely insane, to the point where he couldn’t go on.
“You hungry?” Crowley decided to break the ice. “Let me treat you to something to eat. Then I’ll take you home.”
“I should get home…”
“C’mon. Don’t let that American arsehole ruin your fun. He can’t control you, who you hang out with, and what you do.”
Aziraphale sighed. “All right. I am quite hungry…” He pressed his hands to his cheeks. “And don’t call him that! He’s… He’s… Oh, never mind. He is exactly that.”
Crowley knocked his head back in laughter. When Aziraphale couldn’t even deny this his boyfriend was an asshole, he couldn’t understand why he was still with him. Perhaps Aziraphale was keeping something from that he didn’t dare to speak out in the open air. “What would you like to eat?”
“How about… Sushi? I know an excellent sushi bar that serves the best quality sushi anyone can eat! It is dinner time. They might be a bit busy, but I know the chef personally. He should be able to fit us right in.” Aziraphale clasped his hands together. “Shall I give you the address?”
Crowley nodded. “Go right ahead.”
Of course, Aziraphale would know a sushi chef personally. The man knew how to eat—it seemed like he loved to dive into the different cultures and see what others bring to the table. There have been many sightings of him going to places alone, and while the material usually shamed Aziraphale, Crowley gazed at it and smiled. He always seemed his happiest when he was enjoying something. Aziraphale gave Crowley the directions to the sushi bar, and they were there within ten minutes. There was some hesitation about leaving the car, especially when they were both openly LGBTQ actors and had already had rumors about them spreading around. Aziraphale nervously glanced around as Crowley waited for him to get over his nerves, and finally, they both set out for the restaurant.
Immediately, Aziraphale and Crowley were seated at the bar with the head chef, who smiled and greeted Aziraphale in Japanese. Aziraphale spoke back fluently, and it nearly made Crowley’s jaw drop. Of course, he would know an entirely different language. Why wouldn’t he? Crowley knew a lot of French, at least. That counted for something, right?
“I’ll have what you’re having,” Crowley mumbled.
“You have to try the sake. Only a little bit, however. You are still driving us,” there was that signature smile. Aziraphale’s eyes sparkled as he spoke, his smile the widest it had been throughout the entire day. He turned to the chef and ordered their sushi and a bottle of sake for them—mainly Aziraphale—to enjoy. “I’ll save you some of the bottle to take home. Have you ever had sake?”
“Nope. I’m excited to try it. I usually drink the hard stuff.” Crowley shrugged. “I honestly try whatever seems good, and if you like it, it must be good.”
“Oh, hush…” Aziraphale playfully slapped his arm. “You’re being silly.”
“It's what I am.” Crowley shrugged, a grin on his face. “Now, tell me a bit more about you, Aziraphale. I’m curious. You don’t exactly keep to yourself, but I want to hear things from you.”
Aziraphale hummed in thought. “Well… I was raised an Orthodox Christian. I am still devoted to God, but I don’t believe in what some people of the Church say, and will never force my faith upon someone else.” He tapped his finger against his chin in thought. “I’ve been openly gay since high school, even if that was a cause for bullying. You want to know the funniest thing about that? A lot of the boys in my class, even some of the “straight” boys, contacted me when they saw that I was beginning to make it big.”
The both of them laughed at this.
“Needless to say, I have quite a few screenshots that could be damning evidence one day~.”
“That’s a little evil.” Crowley grinned. “I thought you seemed like the type always to do good.”
“Hm, is it evil if it is simply getting revenge on those who deserve it?”
“A moral argument at its finest.”
They both laughed again and finally, the ice had been broken. They had a lovely conversation about their high school years—Crowley was the typical emo kid, while Aziraphale was the fluffy boy who constantly did good—and their college days and past romances. Crowley stopped dating after a while of the same, pointless shit, and Aziraphale stopped when he unfortunately met Gabriel considering it was a “serious” relationship.
“I’m unsure if Gabriel even once had taken our relationship seriously, but I can’t seem to leave him…” Aziraphale let himself get a little too comfortable, it seemed because he widened his eyes and tensed up. “I mean… Ah, bugger…”
Crowley popped a sushi roll into his mouth—they had gotten their food a little after they arrived. It was pleasant. “I get that. I’ve seen it happen, too. My parents were in that type of relationship. It’s all a matter of what you want in the end. It might take a lot of thinking, and there’s nothing wrong with that.” He glanced toward Aziraphale. “Hey, smile. Don’t frown. You look prettier when you smile.”
“I-I most certainly do not!”
“Now you’re lying,” Crowley grinned. Aziraphale was smiling again. “There we go. Good boy.”
“I—!” Aziraphale gasped. He turned a bright red and turned to his food, a bright red. “Gosh… How am I to deal with you all day on set?”
Crowley shrugged. “Just gonna have to. I play nice, though!”
“Right now, you aren’t!”
“And you’re sharing your weaknesses without thinking. Do you not get praised often?”
“…”
“No…” Crowley widened his eyes. “He doesn’t praise you for cooking him a meal? Giving him anything?”
“I don’t want to talk about it…” Aziraphale pouted.
“Guess I’ll have to do all the praising.”
“Oh, please… don’t! Don’t!”
“That was some hesitation there, Aziraphale…”
“Hush!” Aziraphale used his chopsticks to quickly grab a roll from Crowley’s plate and shove it into his grinning mouth. “Finish up! I must get home!”
Crowley snickered, chewing on the sushi. He didn’t say another word, finishing up his plate and sake. When Aziraphale was done, dabbing away at his mouth, he went to pay for the meal, but Crowley had already beaten him to the punch. He protested, wanting to pay for his food, but Crowley insisted, making Aziraphale flush again. It was cute that Aziraphale got flustered so easily. It made Crowley want to push the right buttons, but he knew he should refrain. Fuck, he was falling for the man, though. It would be hard for when they had to bloody act together.
They got into Crowley’s car and drove toward Aziraphale’s home. It was in an apartment complex, a fancy one that wasn’t too far from where they had been. It disappointed Crowley since he enjoyed talking to Aziraphale. Still, he knew he needed to get home before Gabriel started yelling at him over the phone (which made Crowley wonder how Gabriel would know since Aziraphale mentioned he was working).
Upon arrival, Aziraphale immediately spoke first. “Thank you.” He smiled toward Crowley, hands folded in his lap. “For everything. I wish… I wish you could come up for a glass of wine, but I’m unsure when Gabriel would return.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea anyway,” Crowley shrugged, gazing down at the other. “You know how…”
“I know…” Aziraphale sighed. “And you know how I…”
“I know.”
Aziraphale chuckled softly. “This is so silly. Ah, anyway… Text me when you get home.” He leaned forward and up, kissed Crowley's cheek, and quickly withdrew. “Goodnight.”
“G-Goodnight…”
Crowley had been too shocked to adequately react at first, eyes wide as he watched Aziraphale leave his Bentley and walk up the steps to his building. The place where Aziraphale had kissed felt like it was burning. He felt like he was burning. Oh…
Fuck.
Crowley put the car in drive and drove off when Aziraphale was inside—after he had taken one final glance toward the Bentley, too.
What the fuck is happening?
Crowley was confused, rightfully so. Why did Aziraphale have to go ahead and do that? It just made Crowley want him more. He bit his bottom lip until it almost bled, speeding back to his flat. He needed to work through his mind as well as try to quell his horny thoughts all by Monday.
That would be hard.
It was time to call Anathema.
➴➴➴
Anathema was always there for Crowley when he needed her. He called her, and she was there within the next hour. Crowley let her in when she rang the doorbell, but he looked disheveled. Anathema raised her brow at him as she walked into the apartment, heading straight for the living area after kicking off her heels. She set her purse down, and Crowley sighed behind her, sitting on his couch nearby.
“All right. Spill. What’s going on?”
“Well…” Crowley glanced away. “You know that actor, Aziraphale Fell?”
“The one you’ve had a major crush on for a long time? That it’s no longer even a crush, but you like him without having properly met him? Yeah, I know him. You talk about him all the time.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Crowley grumbled. “Anyway, yeah. He and I are starring a show together. An intense one, if you know what I mean.”
Anathema gasped. “So you’ve met him finally?!”
“And snogged him senseless when we were supposed to be only practicing a kiss scene. We went a bit further than the instructions…” Crowley groaned. “And he has a partner. One he has been with for a while, but this partner has been cheating on him the entirety of their relationship! He wouldn’t have done that with me if he loved and cared for the guy, would he?”
Anathema’s eyes were as wide as they could be. At first, she didn’t say anything. She stared at Crowley as she tried to find the words to say.
“Anathema…?”
“Oh my God, Crowley. That’s such a messy fucking situation. You don’t do messy anymore, nor do you ever want to hook up with someone. What the fuck happened?”
“I don’t know,” Crowley pressed his head into his hands. “You know, it's been years since I’ve fucked anyone? It’s been at least six years because people have always repulsed me, but I kept fighting through it, thinking, “This will pass” for years! Then, finally, I gave it all up. I felt fucking free.”
Anathema smiled. “I remember. You seemed a lot happier when you weren’t forcing yourself to date people and have sex with them.”
“Yeah, and so… And so I thought I was done for life—bachelor forever who never did shit with anyone. Then Aziraphale showed up here in the most beautiful outfit. Fuck…” Crowley ran his hands against his face and leaned back. “I could barely keep it together, and then when he fucking kissed me? It felt too real, and we didn’t stop. He didn’t push me away. We kept going, and he made me so fucking hard…” He let out a frustrated groan. “A-Anyway, you don’t need to know that, but it was a hot fucking make-out session, and no one had made me feel that way in such a long time—well, honestly, not ever?”
“I think… So, do you remember when I said that there would be a whirlwind of a person that comes into your life this year? A few years back, you finally gave in and said you wanted me to tell you something about your future. Well…”
“You’re joking.”
“I specifically said, “The Crow will meet The One. They will be shattered, broken, and a whirlwind of a person—it’s up to The Crow to pick up the pieces.” Don’t you remember?”
“Holy fuck…” Crowley breathed. “Your prophecies are weird. I never thought they come true.”
“How dare you doubt me?” Anathema huffed, crossing her arms against her chest. “I have never been wrong! You know this!”
Crowley laughed softly. “I know, I know…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I hope you can understand why I doubted it. Never had much luck with that stuff.”
“Crowley…” Anathema sighed. “I’m not going to scold you for what you did because I’m going to be honest: I can’t see how it was wrong. Aziraphale is trapped. I’ve seen the news articles on him, and there is way too much lately about his cheating boyfriend. I don’t think he’s stupid, but he's trapped and doesn’t see a way out of it without feeling alone. Help him feel less alone. Maybe then he can be released from his shackles.”
Crowley sighed. Anathema was right. She was always right, and it was annoying. “I want to be there for him. I want to be his person.”
“Then don’t fuck it up.” Anathema grinned. “I’ve seen him. He’s fucking beautiful. Newt even thought so, and he’s straight!”
They both laughed as Crowley wrapped an arm around Anathema. “That's fucking good. You, Newt, and I should go out drinking sometime soon. Maybe I can bring Aziraphale along?”
“Oh, you should! I would love to see Newt light up like a Christmas tree. I told him I’m never going to let it go.”
“And you shouldn’t.” Crowley snickered. “Thank you for coming over… I didn’t know what the fuck to do or think, honestly. The bloody man kissed my cheek. He showed me his favorite sushi place where he knew the bloody chef personally. I sure as hell felt special.”
“That’s because you already are special to him somehow.” Anathema smiled. “That’s a good thing. I think it’ll only get better the more you work on the show together.”
“I hope so…” Crowley sighed. “Fuck. I can’t believe this shit is happening. I’ve never felt this way before. It’s scary. Is this how you felt with Newt?”
Anathema laughed. “Mm… I think so. I had the advantage, though. I knew it would be Newt, just like how I genuinely knew he was the one when I first saw him. There was no prophecy about whether or not we’d last, and now look at us! Engaged! Can you believe it?”
“I can. I still remember the silly proposal. He made me dress as a bloody Star Wars character!”
Anathema and Crowley talked for hours, and a bottle of wine was involved somewhere around the first hour. They decided even to switch on a movie to watch when Crowley still felt jittery and unable to stop thinking. Eventually, his thoughts subsided, and he could focus on their film and conversation. It was nice, and Crowley rarely ever did nice. Anathema was his rock when it came to life. He didn’t know where he would be without her and her guidance.
Eventually, Newton came to pick her up—she was drunk on wine and high in spirits—and left Crowley to his thoughts once again.
However, Crowley did think about the situation. All he could think about was the kiss on his cheek and how wonderful it made him feel. It was a tiny kiss, yet it made him feel like he was on Cloud Nine. It was pathetic. So bloody pathetic, but he couldn’t help it, just like how he couldn’t help imagining their kiss all over again and how it could have ended up being if there was no cheating Gabriel in the picture.
Fuck. How was he going to survive filming with this man?
Speak of the devil. Crowley’s phone went off with a text. He glared at it for a moment, then picked up—then dropped it when he saw it was Aziraphale. He was too drunk for this.
[Aziraphale]: You never messaged me when you got home.
[Aziraphale]: Everything okay?
[Crowley]: o god msorry I ad a frend over n then we drank
[Crowley]: shit i sooooo sorry alo too frunk to type pls call?
Crowley shouted when the other actually called him. Oh shit, oh FUCK. He answered.
“Hey…” Crowley’s voice sounded more gravelly when he drank. “I’m sooo sorry. I meant to… to…”
“To call?” Aziraphale sounded like he was holding back laughter. It made Crowley smile. “It’s quite all right, my dear. I was just worried. I am glad you’re okay.”
“Is the… Is your bitch of a not-boyfriend there?”
“My…” Aziraphale laughed softly. Fuck, that made Crowley’s head spin more. His hand was already creeping downwards. Surely, Aziraphale wouldn’t notice? “My not-boyfriend is not home, no.”
“Playing along now, are ye?” Crowley grinned. “Isss late, though?”
“I know… But I don’t want to talk about that right now. I've… Mm…” Aziraphale sighed. “Gotten into the wine—the good wine… I aaaam very lonely, however. Sooo…”
“Ahhhh, I seeee. You want me to talk to you, huh? And what do I get out of that?”
“A lovely conversation with a sssliiiightly drunk, very adorable person?”
“Oh, you are slightly drunk, aren’t ya? Definitely can tell…” Crowley bit back a groan as his hands danced over his straining bulge. Luckily, he only had his sweats on at the moment. Not his skinny jeans when he was lounging about at home. “You are what you sssay. Very adorable, indeed. 10 out of 10. Would kiss again!”
“Oh, Crowley!” Aziraphale shouted. “Don’t you dare bring that up. Not when I’m in… ineb…. Drunk.” There was the sound of shuffling. Crowley wondered what he was doing and what he was wearing. “I… I would, too—and we will. For the scene.”
Crowley shivered. “Ah…” His mind was going places. Dangerous places. “I think… I think they’re keeping stuff from us. It’s a rom-com drama. There’s gotta be more. Not just tension. There’s gotta be… touches. I’ve gotta touch you and whisper things in your ear, ‘m sure. Ah, what am I saying…” Aziraphale’s breathing hitched over the phone—Crowley could hear it. This was too much. His hand was in his sweatpants now, wrapping around the shaft of his cock and taking it out. It was terrible of him, but his mind was too stupid to think. “I think they were just speaking nonsense to keep us on our toes… And if you need more practice, then… then we’d…”
“Crowley…” Aziraphale sounded… Ah, Crowley couldn’t even put a word to it in his drunk mind. He sounded hot. Was he breathless? No, surely not. “You are trekking dangerous…”
“I’m just sssaaayyyingg… We’d have to practice fuckin’.”
“I am getting plenty of that, thank you… From, uh, him…” Aziraphale sighed. “Yes, plenty—totally... It’s… Very not good. All right, I’m lying. I haven’t let him touch me in months.” He then laughed—a gentle, sweet laugh that had Crowley fighting back a moan. “Oh, gosh. Please never say this to another person.”
“Not a soul, baby.” There was a moan. That was definitely a moan from the phone.
What the fuck is happening right now…?
“Oh, don’t…” Aziraphale whined. “Perhaps this was a mistake…”
“Ah! N-No, no. I won’t… Chalk it up to the alcohol. Please, I had a ton…” Despite Crowley’s panic, his mind was still stuck on the moan and whine. His hand stroked his cock—not too fast, but not slow either. “I’m sorry…”
“No… No, let’s… let’s both chalk it up to that…” Aziraphale breathed. “I don’t want to hang up the phone…”
“Okay… You can say no… You can just, y’know, not answer… Are you like… Fuck, oh fuck, what am I…”
“Ask away. It’s all right…”
“Are you not… Satisfied?”
“Definitely not… The most satisfied I’ve felt in years was… With you,” Aziraphale laughed. “Pathetic, yes?”
“Nah…” Crowley knocked his head back. “God, okay, all right…” His hand moved fast. It was getting harder to bite back his moans and groans. Surely, Aziraphale wasn’t an idiot. He knew what he was doing, especially what he was doing to Crowley.
“You okay?” Aziraphale sounded like he was smiling. Oh, he bloody knew. “You’re breathing heavily…”
“Oh, am I?” Crowley bit down on his bottom lip. “Sorry ‘bout that. Pacing about my room is all. I’m always pacing… pacing about.” He’s sobered up now, fully aware of his actions and how bloody close he was to cumming. He wished it could be with Aziraphale in the same room as him. He wished he was pounding his cock deep into his ass instead of his fucking fist.
“You’re a terrible liar…” Aziraphale whispered. “A very, terrible liar…”
“Then tell me… What am I doing, Aziraphale?”
Aziraphale’s breath hitched again. Crowley hadn’t imagined it. But he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe any of this. “About to… Ah, fuck…”
Crowley groaned. He couldn’t help himself. He came, and he came hard. When had Aziraphale realized? Why was there so much silence? What the fuck was he doing? He was dizzy momentarily, breathing hard into the phone and letting his body slowly relax. Was he imagining this? Was this all a dream? No… No, this was very much real.
“…This…” Aziraphale started. “Can’t happen again.”
“Dunno what you mean…” Crowley sighed. “We’re just chatting. Drinking and chatting over the phone, yeah?”
“Right… I, um… I have to go…”
“Do you?” Crowley pouted. “Right… I suppose you do.”
“I’ll text you. I promise, and I don’t break promises,” Aziraphale sounded like he was smiling. Okay, good. “Goodnight, Crowley.”
“Goodnight, Aziraphale…”
Aziraphale hung up after a moment of hesitation, and Crowley finally groaned out in anger at himself. He couldn’t believe what he just fucking did. He crossed another line—this time, drunk, but he definitely didn’t feel drunk anymore. He needed to get a handle on himself and how he acted, but Aziraphale was… It felt like he was enabling him. He didn’t know if it was the alcohol on his end or if it was truly him. That’s the thing with alcohol: it turns your brain all fuzzy and into mush, and then you have very little idea of what you’re doing and why you’re doing it. He never liked that, but he loved alcohol.
Crowley got up and went to the bathroom to wash himself up again. He took another cold shower, hoping it would work, while internally scolding himself. He needed to take this slow. He needed to wait for Aziraphale to come to him when he no longer had Gabriel. He needed and wanted him, but he wouldn’t ever push him to do something he didn’t want or like.
Aziraphale was a constant thought on his mind. Crowley needed more of him.
Fuck me…