an old enemy of Crowley's shows up and takes an interest in his angel, Aziraphale is kidnapped and it's a race to get to him before he is seriously hurt, help comes from an unexpected place, and Crowley discovers he has the capacity for tears after all- almost non con, slash, gay paring

Crowley and Arizaphale walked arm in arm, a bag of books in Crowley's free hand and an even larger one in arizaphale's, the silly angel insisted on buying that one vintage bible which seemed so heavy Crowley had insisted on carrying a few of the larger books himself.

Arizaphale was such a loving creature, mused Crowley. If the lazy afternoon wing grooming and constant affectionate cuddling was anything to go by. Crowley couldn't wait to get back to his flat, to have the angel curl up on his bony lap and snuggle into his chest, making himself comfortable. Crowley had long since stopped pretending he was unaffected by this, and liked to wrap his arms around the angel protectively, tucking his blonde curly head under his sharp chin.

They had spent the day at a second hand bookshop which had recently got a new order of antiques in, Aziraphale pouring over all of them, darting about. Crowley sat in the second chair in the reading nook, sipping coffee amusedly and flipping through an old botany book.

That had been followed by a splendid evening at a new hipster restaurant that had just begun hosting speakeasies.

They had thoroughly enjoyed the night, the original songs performed by a budding young musician inventive, and the flash fiction readings exquisite.

Crowley had to fight back an amused grin at zira's face at one of the more raucous readings. The angel, no matter how times they kissed in private, still blushed at anything past holding hands in public. Even the reading made him blush, and Crowley got high off it.

Maybe it was the demon in him, loving to see such a pure being tarnished. Though Crowley suspected it had something to do with how lovely the dusting of pink on the angels fair skin looked. So luscious, reminding him of the beauty of Eden, Aziraphale was beautiful, and he looked even more so when flustered.

The angel was smiling contentedly now, swinging his shopping bag in earnest and sniffing the rain damp air happily; short turned up little nose pointing up into the air and eyes closing in bliss. Crowley resisted the urge to swing the angel up into his arms and kiss him silly, holding him as close as possible without squeezing too tight and hurting him.

Crowley was all sharp edges and long limbs, his corporation alone was exceedingly weak compared to most demons, but his true self mitigated that. He was a fairly powerful demon, he wouldn't have been entrusted with the antichrist if he was any less powerful than he was, suffice to say one short angel was not hard to lift.

They weren't too far from the Bentley, walking down a small side street hand in hand, when Crowley sensed another demonic presence, it was strong. He only realised he had stopped walking when Aziraphale raised his eyebrows in concern looking around in puzzlement "what is it dea-"

"Demons" replied Crowley, before the angel even finished speaking.

Without warning there was the rustle of fabric sweeping through the air and a wet splash from directly behind them. Arizaphale's hand was wrenched from his, the angel eliciting a surprised yelp, books scattering across the alley. Crowley spun, growling under his breath, two knives slid from their holsters into his hands as he turned to confront their attacker.

It was a handsome demon, and a face he knew all too well. He was wearing thick red leather boots and shiny leather pants, along with a black leather coat that hung off his frame quite nicely (what was it about demons and leather?) rippling muscles showing through the thin hole ridden black t shirt. His hair was spiked up tastefully into an erratic but artful mess, and he still sported the scar on his left eyebrow from the fight they'd had on earth many years ago. Crowley had known him while he was living in hell, and they hated each other, this being delighted in torture, something Crowley had never been interested even on his worst days, his name was Orlo.

Crowley didn't notice the clothing, or the boots, he was too busy seething at the crushing grip Orlo had on his angel. Orlo's arms circled the short angel lazily, but with enough force that he saw zira was obviously in pain, wincing and trying to stay silent, gingerly pushing at the restraining limbs in a way which told Crowley the process was painful.

White hot rage filled the demon " let him go!" Shouted Crowley. Turning his head from left to right as he heard small splashes from both ends of the street, two dark figures approaching.

"Yes let me-!" Aziraphale hissed, mouth falling open as the arms tightened, a small gasp escaping, there was an audible crack as one of Aziraphale's ribs gave way. There was a wobbly cry, and the angel went limp for a few moments, head bobbing as he fought to remain conscious through the pain.

" I will do nothing of the sort- Crowley", Orlo spat the name like a curse, Crowley scowled as the two shadowy figures came into the light, both young and spiteful looking, like they'd had too many tangfastics and it had left a sour taste in their mouths. Crowley frantically whipped his head from side to side to keep an eye on them. They remained at a distance and came no further.

They were outnumbered, with no real weapons whatsoever. Sure the knives were great for humans, incase any unwitting human tried to mug the pair, but they would do little against demons.

Nevertheless Crowley stood his ground.

The demon hissed in anger when Orlo pushed his angel up against a fire escape with one arm braced against his chest, zira's eyes fluttered, and he moaned, brogue clad feet twitching a foot off the ground, finally eyes fluttering open and alighting their panicked blue gaze on Crowley.

"He's too pretty for an ugly wart like you Crowley" Orlo sniffed "even if he is an angel" without warning Orlos second arm moved up, hand gripping Arizaphale's face from under the chin, smushing his lips together. The angel seemed to be in too much pain to focus, eyes fluttering once more.

Orlo tilted the angels small face from left to right, eyes twinkling, he ran a calloused thumb over Arizaphale's bottom lip. Crowley automatically took a step forward, but stopped immediately when the two young demons, a male and a female, matched his step with one of their own.

"I wouldn't try that if I were you" tutted the sadist, licking his lips and raking his eyes up and down the angels small frame.

" let him go Orlo" pleaded Crowley, trying to sound tough, with desperation creeping into his voice. Panicked yellow eyes flickering between the two younger demons and Orlo.

"He's just an angel" reasoned Crowley.

"surely you'd rather take me! I'm the one who got you demoted, it would be much more fun to torture me! "

Orlo caressed Aziraphale's face causing an automatic shiver to go through the angels frame, even while unconscious shrinking away from the touch,

"And what makes you think I want to torture this beautiful creature?" Smirked the sadist. Crowley was shocked into silence, baffled, surely Orlo didn't want...Orlo licked his lips, ignoring Crowley.

"He would make quite the lovely slave" Orlo continued "I've always wanted one, and I'm sure I could put his pretty mouth to better use than you ever have" Orlo smirked. Making eye contact with the angels lover.

Crowley saw white, hands shaking and body quivering like a leaf in the wind. Pent up anger and desperation fizzing out of him like a bottle of bubbly, he couldn't! Not his friend! Not his Aziraphale! The pair hadn't even done so much as touch one another, only cuddling and hand holding, some kissing. Aziraphale was a virgin, and too innocent for this, to be defiled by this...this freak!

Crowley's face hardened. "You will releassssssse him!" He hissed.

Crowley was unprepared for what happened next."Ok" said Orlo. He dropped the angel.

There was a sickening crack when Aziraphale's head hit the concrete, eyes flying open and breath coming in gasps. The angel raised one hand to his head, red liquid coating his small pale hand, he shuffled back against the wall, the other arm wrapped protectively around his middle.

"CROWLEY RUN!" Shouted the angel, trying to stand but swooning, falling back against the wall heavily. "He'll kill you!" He gasped, Aziraphale had just experienced first hand the demons strength, he had no doubt Crowley would be severely injured or worse if he interfered. The young male slipped past Crowley and yanked Zira up by the collar of his coat, clamping a hand over the angels mouth and stifling a cry of pain.

"I'M NOT LEAVING YOU ANGEL!" Bellowed Crowley, getting into his fighting stance as the female demon and Orlo approached him.

In a flash the female demon had him in a headlock, Crowley slashing madly at her with his knives, but doing little damage. She had dodged his punch like a shadow. Orlo sent him a winding punch to the stomach which had him slumping, the only thing holding him up being the other demon. A surge of strength returned to him a second later and he twisted like a snake out of the hold, somersaulting through the air and kicking Orlo in the face. A spurt of black blood shot out of the villains nose and he screamed in anger, clutching the bridge of his nose.

The female demon advanced once more. Orlo looked across at the angel, smirking and sucking in his bottom lip, biting, fangs pushed into the soft flesh, his eyes glinted. He looked back over to Crowley, face closing off.

"Kill him" said Orlo, the second demon advancing. Orlo produced some shackles and slapped a pair on Arizaphale's feet, lifting the angel onto his shoulder like he weighed nothing. The angel hissed in pain, then begun twisting frantically, trying to get a look at what was going on, surely Crowley could best those two lower demons. The angel was however uncertain about the demon carrying him, he had broken an angelic rib like snapping a glow stick, and his aura positively reeked of power.

My, my what had he got himself into. The angel fought the urge to vomit, his broken rib and concussion coupled with the vile feel of this demons aura had bile rising in his throat. Also he couldn't be sure, but had the demon caressed him? He felt violated, he was hardly awake for most of the conversation between this demon and his Crowley, but Crowley had sounded so distressed, which only normally happened on his behalf. Aziraphale felt oddly detached, maybe it was the blood loss, his head throbbed.

Crowley was twisting and turning evading punches so fast Aziraphale could barely see what was happening through blurry eyes, his head had begun to feel really heavy and black spots danced in his vision. His cheeks reddened as he realised The demon was holding him in place with a hand on his bottom, the flapping of coats and scuffling feet faded. 'what kind of a soldier was he if he couldn't even sense a demon in time!? What a shambles' thought Aziraphale, he gave one last half hearted wriggle, and he saw no more.