written for a friend, just some fluff (and not-really-hot buttsex), not really good. I suck at this. Sorry

Certainty

Out of the entire series of his very bad ideas, Crowley thinks as he catches the book, this has probably been the worst one so far. Still, no one, not probably even Agness Nutter, could have predicted Aziraphale would throw a book at anyone who sneaks up on him.

"You don't have to kill me, angel, I just want to talk in peace?" Crowley tries and cautiously extends his hand with the book. Aziraphale mutters a quiet 'sorry' and snatches one of his treasures away.

"So what do you want to talk about?" Aziraphale finally asks, and to Crowley's endless relief, puts the book back on the shelf.

"Well, the thing is..."Crowley pauses. Although he would never admit it to anyone, he is nervous. Which is weird. In the end, being nervous probably makes him feel even more nervous because he is Crowley, he stopped the Apocalypse from happening and he doesn't do nervous. Well, not usually. "The thing is that after what we did, we probably won't be able to stay like this for much longer and I just...wanted you to know. Something."

Aziraphale curiously raises his eyebrows and then smiles. It's probably supposed to look encouraging, but the demon is quite sure he's never wanted to run away so much in his entire (remarkably long) life. Crowley takes a deep breath (he doesn't even need to breathe, but this weird human stuff serves as a sufficient distraction from his nervousness) "I...I thinkImightbeinlovewithyou."he mutters quickly and turns away, face red.

"I'm sorry, dear, I didn't quite catch that." Aziraphale seems genuinely confused. Crowley is slowly starting to think that, maybe, the Apocalypse wouldn't be so bad after all. He bites his lip, takes another useless breath and speaks again.

"I think I might be in love with you." he finally manages to say, his voice oddly constricted. The silence that follows is deafening. Crowley is more than glad for the comfort of his shades hiding how terrified he is.

"You think you might be in love with me?" Aziraphale finally breaks the silence, sounding more calm than he probably should, and Crowley is almost shocked to find a hint of a smile on the angel's face. "You think you might...seriously, Crowley?" Oh and is that Aziraphale grinning or is Crowley just hallucinating from all the stress? He breathes again, hoping Aziraphale won't notice, and attempts to at least say something, if nothing else.

"You've just thrown a book at me, I'm still shaken."

"Me too, it was a manuscript from the seventeenth century."

Crowley wonders if Aziraphale thinks this is some kind of an elaborate prank, if he takes him seriously at all. The fool's hope he had when he entered the bookshop is long gone, heavy acceptance of the angel's rejection slowly filling its place.

"You're not going to make it easy for me, are you."

"You're not going to shut up and kiss me, are you." Aziraphale shoots back, trying to sound smooth, but the blush on his cheeks betrays him.

"Are you sure?" Since when exactly does the angel play it cool while the demon just stares, unbelieving?

"I think I might be."

Crowley rolls his eyes before taking the shades off. The uncomfortable feeling of being so unnaturally exposed is quickly forgotten as he closes the distance between him and the angel and after all the time imagining it finally kisses him.

Aziraphale's lips are soft and warm and taste of tea, and a thought crosses Crowley's mind, how is it exactly possible he managed to resist for so long. But before he finds a reasonable answer, his mind goes blank as Aziraphale's smaller body presses against his, also soft and warm, and Crowley's hands itch with the sheer desire to touch. He briefly wonders if Aziraphale would mind, and then stops thinking once again, because if he let things go this far, he probably wouldn't. And the angel doesn't. To be honest, quite the opposite. When Crowley's palms settle on his hips, the angel moans quietly and opens his mouth a little, letting the demon in.

When Aziraphale pulls away, Crowley almost whimpers at the loss, but the angel only smiles and gently strokes his cheek. "Aren't we a little too old for making up in a bookshop?" he asks then. Crowley shrugs and his hands slide down to cup and squeeze Aziraphale's butt.

"I don't really feel that old."

"Well what I was trying to say is that I have a bedroom."

"Lead the way?"Crowley gives the angel a slightly dazed smile and lets him take his hand. It's still quite hard to believe all of that is happening for real, after all the time spent imagining, fantasizing and hoping for the best, the best meaning they could stay at least friends, that Aziraphale won't get tired of him and just replace him with someone else, someone more worthy, someone better.

The bedroom is small and so is the bed, but Crowley can't really find himself complaining. It feels a little like home, definitely more than his own spacious (empty) flat. Maybe it's only caused by Aziraphale's bright presence and the light smell of tea in the air, but Crowley doesn't think the reason behind it really matters.

"It's not much, but-"

"It's just enough." Crowley assures him and then kisses the angel again, gently pushing him towards the bed. Aziraphale lets him, but when Crowley least expects it, the angel turns around and pushes Crowley down. The surprised demon lands on the soft covers and looks up in confusion. Not that he'd mind this, but he'd never take Aziraphale for the one on top. As if Aziraphale was able to read his mind, he blushes and shakes his head vigorously. "No, not that, I just..."

Aziraphale looks away for a second and then hesitantly crawls on top of Crowley and kisses him again. Crowley's hands slip under the angel's shirt, finally feeling the hot, smooth skin under his fingers. "Take it off." The angel murmurs and his lips slide across Crowley's jaw to his neck, leaving a wet trail behind. The demon nods and happily complies, hungrily staring at Aziraphale's bare chest.

"I just wanted to..."the angel looks really very embarrassed at this point, and Crowley would probably want to hug the poor thing, if he didn't have some other things in mind. "I...I hope you don't mind." it's barely a whisper and then Crowley's breath (another one that he does not need) hitches in his throat as Aziraphale's wings stretch behind the angel, almost filling the room, all white and light, making Crowley stare in disbelief.

"It's absolutely fine, as long as you let me touch them." Crowley smirks, asking himself if that could get any better. Apparently yes, because the angel smiles shyly and nods. "That was the general idea." Crowley groans, already reaching behind Aziraphale, threading his fingers through unbelievably soft feathers. They're cold, unlike the angel's skin, but feel just as great in his palm. Crowley gently traces his fingers along the edges, until the angel is moaning and shivering with want, his head buried in the crook of Crowley's neck and his clothed erection needily rubbing against Crowley's own.

It takes a great deal of self-control not to flip them over and just take Aziraphale just like that, it's all too much after so many years of secretly desiring the angel and being able to only watch from the distance. But Crowley manages somehow, settling only to biting the angel, enough to leave a mark, but not quite enough to hurt. Every time the demon's teeth sink into Aziraphale's flesh, the angel moans a little louder, arousing Crowley even more.

He doesn't really know how they manage to get rid of their pants, not sure if they undressed or just kind of willed them away (although probably the latter since his shirt also goes missing and he is pretty sure he did not even attempt to remove it), but little does he care as he can touch more of Aziraphale's gorgeous skin. He's quite surprised when Aziraphale suddenly pulls away; whimpering at the loss of warmth and relieving friction, but the angel only reaches to his nightstand, quickly retrieving a small bottle from the drawer.

Crowley's smile fades when the angel pushes it into his palm. He is honestly taken aback by how Aziraphale trusts him with it, with his wings...with even letting him do all this so far.

But he decides not to dwell on it, quickly coating his fingers with the lube, and moves his hand to Aziraphale's butt. He gently circles the angel's entrance at first, eliciting another moan from him, and then carefully slips the first finger in. Aziraphale stiffens uncomfortably at the intrusion, making Crowley pause for a moment. The demon moves his other hand back to the angel's wing, caressing the feathers gently, and the angel relaxes after a while and soon enough Crowley adds another finger. It's easier this time and after a while, Aziraphale starts to move, hesitant soon changing into eager. Crowley smirks and crooks his fingers, making Aziraphale shout as he rubs his prostate.

"I'm ready." groans Aziraphale after a while, his voice already a little hoarse. Crowley wonders how his name would sound like that. He decides to find out later.

Crowley nods and slicks himself up, and then finally pushes the tip of his erection against Aziraphale's entrance. His hands then settle on the angel's hips, preventing him from going too fast and hurting himself. It's almost torture as the tight, slick heat slowly engulfs him, but in a strange way it it also a delight Crowley means to enjoy.

When he's finally fully sheathed, he stays still even despite the angel's protests. His eyes roam over Aziraphale's body for the hundredth time that day and Crowley can't help thinking how beautiful the angel is, marked, all flushed and helpless, and how it's all his work.

"Crowley..."Aziraphale's voice is strained, desperate."...please." The demon could never resist that, not even if he wanted to. So he finally lets go of Aziraphale's hips, letting the angel move, and lifts his hands back to stroke the gorgeous wings above. It's wonderful, better then heaven, better than anything and he hopes he will have enough time to enjoy this more than just once.

It doesn't last long. It's all too much, the pent up desire, the years of desperate longing and self-denial push him to his release, it feels like he's been hard forever and the relief is just over the horizon. He reaches for Aziraphale's cock and starts to quickly jerk the angel off, in a rather desperate attempt not to come first. In the end, he manages (barely), and Aziraphale's whole body tenses, and for a mere second Crowley sees a warm, bright light, which could be anything, but most certainly is the flicker of Aziraphale's halo. Staining their stomachs and Crowley's hand, Aziraphale finally shouts his name (and it sounds even better than Crowley imagined it), and he looks so completely undone that Crowley can't hold on any longer and falls over the edge as well, groaning the angel's name in return.

They lie together, Aziraphale on his stomach, head braced on folded arms, wings stretched over the bed, over Crowley. The demon is on his back, lazily stroking the soothingly cool feathers.

"Hey, angel."Crowley murmurs. He feels pleasantly tired, still not completely down from the post orgasm height and generally too exhausted to do anything.

"What is it, demon?" Aziraphale, he thinks, looks way too cute like that, with his hair messed up, cheeks still flushed and the bite marks all over his body.

"I...I love you."

"Are you sure now?" The glint in Aziraphale's eyes reminds Crowley that he probably does have a very bad influence on the angel. He smiles and nods.

"Good. Because I love you, too."