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"There is absolutely no need to be embarrassed," Anathema reassured as she and Newt navigated a chunky box of old China through the bookshop, trying their best not to topple over shelves in the process.
"Everybody has their preferences and there are definitely kinkier things out there than a box of sex toys hidden in the archives of your store."
Aziraphale watched the proceedings with something akin to mellow trepidation. He had delayed cleaning out his bookshop for literal ages precisely because of all the things that would reappear in the process. There were centuries worth of clutter and overstuffed boxes just waiting to be rediscovered. Some contained good memories, some bad, and some, well, some were most certainly designed to blow the mind of a demon who was much less experienced than a certain angel when it came to corporeal pleasures.
But alas, moving to a cozy cottage in the South came with cleaning house and before Aziraphale would relocate his books and earthly possessions to their new home by the Sea, decisions would have to be made about what he wished to keep and with what to part.
“In fact,” Anathema continued, as she elbowed her way through the piles of books that Aziraphale had accumulated on the floor. “Newt and I have quite enjoyed discovering the art of… ughh!” Her words were cut off by a groan because her partner had simply let go of his share of the box in order to stare at Anathema in shock.
“I’d rather we didn’t discuss our private life in the middle of a clean-up,” Newt murmured and hurried to relieve Anathema from the weight again. “Relax,” the witch gave him a warm smile and watched as the colour on Newt’s cheeks vanished, only to make a reappearance when she added: “Aziraphale was the one who suggested the harness and rope in the first place. You should thank him, really.”
Aziraphale watched the two humans bicker with amusement. He still couldn’t fathom how two people so very different had ended up liking each other. Then again, he was one to talk. “It’s just that Crowley…,” he began but clicked his mouth shut when the very same appeared on scene.
“What are we talking about?” The demon joined them, carrying a big bag that contained Aziraphale’s ancient coin collection. The angel turned to mark the bag with a visible “To keep”-sticker and realized too late that he had no way of steering the topic of conversation into safe waters now.
“Oh, just about the old box of toys that Aziraphale’s keeping in the back,” Anathema replied, examining an assortment of tophats that wouldn’t fit in any box and was definitely not safe for travel. She put a “maybe”-sticker on them, simply because she needed to see Aziraphale wear them at least once before they were tossed.
“Toys? Will you be donating those?” Crowley really was lousy at being a demon. Of course, his thoughts would immediately go to charity.
“No, dear, it’s not that sort of…” Aziraphale tried to interject but Crowley was already miles ahead.
“Come to think of it, I might have left some here, too. Must be stuck wayyy up in your back passage." He gestured towards the backroom of Aziraphale's bookstore. "All stuffy, collecting dust. Probably haven’t been moved in ages. A shame to chuck ‘em out now.”
Crowley was greeted with stunned silence, looking around for the apparent clue he had missed. “You know, from back in the day at the Dowling’s? Warlock had far too many toys growing up, but there’s only so much you can do as a nanny. So I carefully put some away whenever I felt like he had too many to play with.”
Shockingly, it was Newt who spoke up first. “Ah, well, if you ask me, you can never have too many toys to play with, even if they’re stuck in.. nope. Can’t do it.” He buried his red face in his hands, stifling the nervous giggles that bubbled up inside of him. Anathema fought with laughter too, patting Newt’s arm. Crowley’s face had distorted into a suspicious glare. There was little the demon hated as much as being the butt of a joke. Aziraphale took pity on him.
“We were talking about toys that induce sexual pleasure, darling. If you don’t mind, I’ll keep them for rainy afternoons.”
“That, eh, why, yes, of course, if you want. That’s…” Crowley spluttered, stumbling over the words in the same manner he had navigated his way round the bookshop all morning.
Aziraphale took his hands, squeezing them softly to prevent whatever storm of embarrassed reassurances was brewing under the demon’s surface, waiting to be released.
“They are for me, okay?” His hand cupped Crowley’s face, tender fingers brushing away the strain on Crowley’s features. “No need for you to engage. You may watch me, you may even join me if you like, but you can also just leave me to it and watch a movie, okay?”
Crowley let go of an anxious breath, visibly relaxing under Aziraphale’s touch. “Okay?” The angel didn’t let go of Crowley’s gaze that, as always, lay behind protective sunglasses. He nodded. “Yeah,” he croaked, pursing his lips to prevent a loaded smile from appearing on his face. "Okay."
*****
“So that means in all this while, you and Crowley have never…?” Anathema put sugar into her drink and stirred as they waited for Newt and Crowley to receive their order at one of the many coffee places scattered around Soho. They had sorted through the angel’s belongings for hours and there wasn’t yet an end in sight.
Aziraphale put on a patient smile and shook his head. “You see,” his fingers traced the foam that had settled on the rim of his cup of cocoa. “We’ve only recently… er, talked about our feelings for each other and Crowley doesn’t really go for that kind of thing.” He checked if his marshmallow toppings had melted and then took an indulgent large sip, humming appreciatively.
“Which is perfectly fine. I’ve inhabited this corporation for over six thousand years, my dear. There’s little I haven’t experienced or tried.”
Anathema tilted her head and licked her creamy spoon clean. “Yes, that’s true, but there’s nothing like physical pleasure. Newt was new to it, too. We explore so many different sides of sex together. Don't you, you know, miss it?” She scrutinized the angel for an air of false joviality but Aziraphale seemed unperturbed.
“Even though there are some practices I might miss out on without a willing partner, there are plenty of experiences you can have together that don’t involve sex. Physical pleasure can be derived from other forms of closeness, too, you know.”
“Yes, well, right,” Anathema conceded. “And I’m glad you enjoy each other’s company. For me, it’s just so liberating to have someone who’s as open as him.” Her eyes trailed to the gangly man who had just resigned to paying in cash because the credit card machine had decided to take the day off.
“There’s nothing like watching Newt’s ecstasy," she shared. "You wouldn’t believe how alive he becomes in the bedroom. It’s wild.” The admission had tumbled from her lips freely, but she squinted at the angel, looking slightly guilty. Like they hadn’t talked about that kind of topic plenty of times before, like she still wasn’t sure if the whole “being an angel”-thing didn’t come with boundaries best not to cross.
“Good for you,” Aziraphale said heartily, and he meant every word of it. “You are two consenting adults. You do whatever you like best.”
That was all Anathema needed to get going again. “Like, the other night, he came so violently, that we didn’t just need to change the sheets, afterwards.” She lowered her voice, leaning in conspiratorially. “His discharge made it…” Her fingers pointed to the ceiling. “...all the way up there.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Crowley commented on her last sentence, slumping down on a free seat, slurping his iced tea. He put his face on his fist and cocked up an eyebrow, curious. With his hair in a messy bun like that, the ripped skinny jeans and the worn shirt he had chosen for a day of physical labour in the stuffy back of the bookstore, he looked so adorable that Aziraphale couldn’t help but move towards him, kissing his cheek. Crowley immediately turned red. It was so easy to make him flustered, but the loving smile the angel received for his efforts told him that the demon really didn’t mind.
Crowley took Aziraphale's hand and intertwined their fingers, then cleared his throat, returning to what he believed was the gossip that was shared at the table. “So who got discharged, and why was heaven so interested in it?”
"Oh, Crowley.” Aziraphale bit back a grin. “No.” With a bit of chagrin on his face, he filled his partner in. Crowley groaned in frustration. “Do you people honestly have no other subjects to discuss?”
Anathema’s reply was a casual shrug. She, too, placed a placid kiss on Newt’s nose the second he sat down. His reaction looked a lot like Crowley’s, but he leaned in and caught another, less innocent kiss in return.
*****
The group had been back at the bookshop for a while and were currently arguing about whether or not to keep Aziraphale's assorted scraps of tickets from various plays he had attended with Crowley over the years ("It's romantic," Newt argued. "It's a bag full of crap.", Anathema deadpanned.), when Crowley reappeared from the back of the shop.
His walk seemed very purposeful, his features were so pointedly slack that Aziraphale immediately grew suspicious. His eyes wandered to the book that was tugged under the demon's arm. Crowley casually positioned himself leaning against the nearest wall.
“There’s nothing like basking your boobies in the sun, is there?" He lowered his sunglasses and gave them each a meaningful look. "Wanna see?”
Anathema rolled her eyes and shook her head in exasperation. “Now you’re just having us on, Crowley.” The demon wiggled his eyebrows and smirked. “What? You’ve been talking smut all day and I’m not allowed to join?”
“Clearly, you’re about to show us a picture of the birds, aren’t you?" Newt pulled the book from Crowley's grasp and opened it. "So have at it.” The demon's face darkened as he moodily flipped through the pages. “They mate for life, you know,” he commented.
Aziraphale was utterly enchanted. A sulky snake was even more adorable than a snake throwing a hissy fit. Both tempers happened frequently and never failed to appeal to the angel's caring side. He waited until Crowley had settled on a page and joined him at his side, sneaking a casual arm around the demon's waist and resting his chin on Crowley's shoulder.
“Darling, these are the loveliest boobies I’ve ever seen! I am not counting the evening we spent in the Roman bath, of course.” Crowley’s expression turned thoughtful for a moment before a sly grin appeared on his lips. “Oh! I remember that night!" He perked up. "Who knew that you could condemn so many souls to the pits of hell simply by showing up in a public bath wearing the wrong sex?”
Sometimes, humouring Crowley was a full-time occupation. Aziraphale relished it. “Everyone, love. It really doesn’t matter if you show up with a naked, female corporation in a male-exclusive bath in 41 AD or in a local sauna today. You’d get the same reaction throughout the centuries and you are very aware of it.”
The demon’s lips twitched. “Yeah, well. You either have a certain je ne sais quoi or you don't," he asserted.
"Je ne sais quoi, my ass." Anathema sighed, resigning herself to the fact that this was the direction the conversation had gone. "Boobs, Crowley. You're talking about breasts. And it isn't difficult to tempt a few horndog Romans in a public bath, but now I really, really wouldn't mind seeing what you looked like then."
Now it was Crowley’s turn to roll his eyes and Aziraphale’s to splutter. With a swift movement of his hands, the demon had managed several things at once: First, he had removed his shirt, so that he stood, still leaning on the wall, showing off his naked torso that now, secondly, sported a pair of beautiful breasts.
“What?” Crowley raised an eyebrow and stared at Anathema, who stared back, flabbergasted. “I am asexual, not a prude. I might be awkward with physical signs of intimacy in public, but I don’t mind showing off my body. It’s swag.” He shrugged.
With his love’s confidence so firmly reinstated, Aziraphale couldn’t help but hug Crowley, settling snugly behind him.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, squeezing his demon lightly. Crowley, cheeks flushed, turned in the embrace, giving Aziraphale a quick peck on the nose.
“And that’s our cue.” Anathema, who had noticed that Newt had remained suspiciously silent during the last couple of minutes, took her partner’s hand and turned to go. “I’ll see you tomorrow to finish this off,” she stated as she made her way through the boxes and clutter, trailing Newt behind her.
***
“You know, I can’t recall us ever having done anything like this.” Aziraphale licked a droplet of red wine from his bottom lip and reached for the bottle of Merlot to top off their drinks.
After a shared effort to bring all remaining boxes to the forefront of the shop so the backroom would be cozier, they had both shed their clothes for a well-deserved shower and then had decided against putting on pyjamas. Thus, they were now sitting comfortably on Aziraphale’s old plush sofa, enjoying each other’s proximity.
“That’s because you never…” Crowley gestured sloppily with his glass, spilling grape juice that, miraculously, only settled on spots that would be easy to clean. “You never asked,” he finished, leaning against the angel’s shoulder and closing his eyes.
Aziraphale marveled at the sight of the ginger in his arms. He felt like he had learned a little more about his favourite demon today. You could spend almost an eternity with somebody but they could always surprise you.
Although he had meant what he had said to Anathema, this sensation of casual skin to skin contact was new and surprisingly pleasant. When he had told her that there were other forms of physical closeness, he had thought of all the times that Crowley nowadays touched him, casually or with determination.
Because they could. Not just because heaven and hell weren't checking on their every move, but because they were both aware of their emotions and now acted on them. His thoughts had been with every little peck on the lips, and every hand holding. With what little distance remained between them when they sat on a bench in the park or back in the shop on the sofa, watching a movie. With every time Crowley now dared to reach out and play with his hair when Aziraphale was lost in a book and the demon immersed in a mindless smartphone game.
But this, right here, was another level of intimacy entirely and it was wonderful. Aziraphale concentrated on the warmth of the body against him, slowly drifting off into a drunken slumber until…
“Hey, you’ve spilled your wine all over my member!” Crowley’s protests roused him and he blinked, his sleep-muddled mind trying to catch up to the moment. “What?” “And now it’s spilling onto my hiney, yuck!”
Aziraphale’s eyes went wide and he grabbed the glass that had slipped out of his hand. “Oh, darling! I’m so sorry!” His words were undermined by the bouts of giggles that prevented him from being a real help while Crowley rushed to the bathroom for a towel.
“Really,” the demon snapped when he returned, drying his thighs. “I’ve got wine in places that no wine has ever been before.” Despite his growl, he was laughing, too.
Aziraphale schooled his face into a neutral expression. “You know, I feel like you might be in need of another shower.”
His eyes locked with Crowley’s and he allowed a fond smile to light up his face. “Which goes well with my desire to wash your hair. Are you amenable to a scalp massage?” The demon swallowed visibly.
“And then I might be persuaded to try this sleeping-thing you are so fond of.” The prospect of holding each other close, enjoying their body heat under a blanket in the barely used bedroom behind the bookstore was incredibly tempting. Luckily, he wasn’t the only one who thought so.
On a peaceful night somewhere in a bookshop in Soho, an angel and a demon shared a bed for the first of what would become many times and the world was just a little bit better for it.