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Beings of Love

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Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered open and he found he was in his bed. He normally did not sleep, and the pounding in his head reminded him as to why he hardly partook in the activity.

He rubbed one of his eyes and then stretched. His hand brushed against warm skin and he turned his head to see that Crowley was fast asleep on his side, facing him.

A sudden cold swept over him, and he looked under the sheet. Their naked bodies confirmed his fears.

“Oh...oh, no…” he sighed, his heart beating faster. “We didn’t...we couldn’t have, but...oh, dear, I don’t...I remember a bit of kissing but then…”

He came to a realization and he glared at the still sleeping Crowley.

“He wouldn’t...” he whispered to himself. “He knows what can happen. Unless…”

Crowley stirred and brought the sheet over his shoulders. He slowly opened one golden eye and, upon seeing Aziraphale, he grinned.

“Good morning, my angel,” he said sweetly.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said, “what happened last night?”

“You’re even more radiant when you wake up, you know?”

“What happened?

A satisfied hum came from him. “Hmm, what didn’t happen?”

“I’m being serious.”

Crowley noticed the stoney expression he held, and he opened both eyes and shifted up to rest on his elbow. “It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

Aziraphale licked his lips, not wanting to answer what he knew to be true.

Crowley reached out and stroked his cheek with his thumb.

“We made love, angel.”

His eyes widened and he shook his head. “No...we can’t do that.”

“Haha, well...we did...all night.”

“No! We can’t , Crowley! It’s not allowed!”

“Angel, calm yourself.”

Aziraphale shot out of bed and rushed into the lavatory.

“Angel!”

He grunted as he slid out of bed and put on his black jeans. He followed Aziraphale only to have him slam the door in his face.

“Darling!” Crowley said, grasping the door handle to find it locked. “Angel, it’s alright. You did nothing wrong.”

The door was thrown open and Aziraphale’s blue eyes were wide.

“No, I didn’t, did I?” he growled. “It was you. It was all you! You did something to me last night!”

Crowley smirked to lighten the mood. “I did a lot of things to you last night.”

“Stop it!”

He could see that Aziraphale was actually panicking, and he could see the growing dread on his beautiful face.

“Angel...are you suggesting that I coerced you? That I forced you?”

“You did something, for sure!” he shrieked. “I wouldn’t even venture to do this sober!”

Crowley gave him an incredulous look. “Is that so?” he asked.

“Do you realize what you’ve done to me? To yourself?” Aziraphale pushed past him and went to his wardrobe. He took out his dressing gown and threw it on.

“Calm down! All we did, angel,” Crowley said, frowning as he turned to him, “was make love! There was no hidden agenda with me, if that’s what you’re implying!”

“Make love ...” Aziraphale sneered. “We didn’t make love, no, it was more vulgar than that. More garish. You’re a demon; you have no concept of love.”

Crowley’s frown grew deeper, but he didn’t interrupt. He continued to glare at his angel--

No... this angel. This wasn’t Aziraphale. Something new was stirring, something Crowley had never seen in him before, and it made his fists clench and his stomach churn.

Hatred. That’s what it was. A growing hatred towards him. Crowley didn’t think angels were capable, but he felt it in Aziraphale at that moment, and wanted to shrink.

“You may think you know,” the angel continued, staring back at him, his eyes becoming wet. “You may know how to say it, how to insert it into a sentence to get what you want, but you’ll never understand it.”

Aziraphale paused to sniff back his tears. He didn’t like feeling this way toward his constant companion, but he felt deceived.

“You don’t feel love, Crowley,” he muttered, snapping the sash of his dressing gown into a tight knot and stepped closer. “Because it’s of no use to you.”

One of Crowley’s nails pierced his palm, but the pain didn’t compare to what he just heard.

“No concept, eh?” he said. “Then you tell me why I’ve been by your side all these millenia. You tell me why I have dinner with you every night; why I drink with you, meander in the fucking park with you. You really think I do it to pass the time? Do you think I do it because of some sinister plot that you’ve suddenly invented to keep the culpability away from you ? Then, why do you let me hang about?

“You’re a creature of love, eh?” he continued, putting his hands on his hips. “If you’re the least bit empathic whilst surrounded by humans, surely , you can feel love absolutely resonating off a demon that supposedly has never felt it!”

Aziraphale sighed and a tear fell down his cheek.

“You couldn’t stand being the only one of us fallen,” he said, his voice straining. “You wanted to take me there with you, you disgusting wretch!”

“That’s not true, angel! You know it isn’t! Why are you talking like this?”

“It is true, Crowley! It took you a few thousand years, but you’ve finally succeeded. You properly tempted an angel, you foul fiend!

“I did not---”

“You filled me with wine and spirits and while I was out of my wits, you seduced me with sweet whispers and tender caresses, and then you had your way with me! You’ve ruined me, you...you vile, disgraced monster!”

Crowley stepped closer. He didn’t want to lose his temper. Not with Aziraphale.

“You willingly took me upstairs.”

“Shut up…” Aziraphale muttered and turned away from him.

You took me to your bed,” Crowley continued, stepping even closer. “You undressed the both of us…”

“Crowley…”

You laid me down and you made love to me !”

“Exactly according to your plan!”

“There is no plan, angel! It just happened, and quite frankly, it was wonderful. Can you even admit that? And you’re still here!”

“Yes,” Aziraphale said, turning to face him again. “For now.”

There was a cold silence between them as they stared at one another.

Aziraphale swallowed the growing lump in his throat. “You want me to fall.”

Crowley’s heart sank. “Angel...no, I don't.”

“This is more than just the first time we kissed. We’ve been lucky, haven’t we? How convenient.” He seemed to be talking to himself now as he hugged his arms to him. “But no, Crowley...this is...this is unforgivable. And you knew that!”

“No one will find out.” He heard the words come out of his own mouth, but he doubted them all the same.

Aziraphale raised his bright eyes to him. He suddenly unfolded his arms and straightened his back.

“I trusted you.”

Crowley reached out to touch his face. “Angel--”

“No!” Aziraphale screamed. “How could you? For 6000 years, I actually trusted you. I’m an angel, Crowley! You’re right: I am a being of love...and you took advantage of that to fulfill some sick, perverted plan to make me fall! That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? Because love means nothing to you, you charlatan, you lowly imp, you.... demon!

The wardrobe suddenly fell forward with a loud bang , and Crowley’s eyes glowed as he scowled at him.

He knew what he was, but to have Aziraphale remind him with such ire in his voice was too much for him to bear. He could have struck him down if he wanted to, and a part of his brutish instincts told him it was the right thing.

Aziraphale gave him a knowing grin. “Caught,” he said, haughtily. “And now you’re going to show me who you really are. I’m ready.” Another tear fell down his cheek and his chin shook. “Do your worst, demon.”

The loathing from him seared into Crowley’s being, but he would not bring himself to harm him.

So he took out his anger on Aziraphale’s furniture.

The dresser drawers violently opened and shut, the bedsheets ripped in half, the sink faucet in the lavatory exploded and stuck itself into the ceiling, and a bookcase downstairs in the shoppe collapsed, spilling first editions onto the dusty floor and breaking their spines.

Tears were steadily streaming down Aziraphale’s cheeks as the calamity surrounded them. He kept his posture strong as he stared at the demon in front of him, half-dressed with his long hair still tousled from last night’s mistake.

When the bedlam ended, Crowley took a deep breath and his eyes returned to a dull gold.

“Everything that I am,” he said, his voice low and tired, “is telling me to hurt you right now...to prove how powerful I can be over you...but I won’t succumb to it.”

Crowley let out a shaky breath. “Because I love y---”

“Don’t!” Aziraphale commanded with gritted teeth. He put his finger in Crowley’s face. “Don’t you dare ...”

“Angel…” Crowley reached out to him again.

Aziraphale did not recoil at first. He wanted to feel his touch, but the deception he felt was beyond painful, and he feared if Crowley touched him, he would certainly ignite.

He stepped back, out of his reach.

Crowley looked down at his empty hand and sighed.

“Get out…” Aziraphale demanded, his voice cold.

“Angel--”

“I said, get out.” His voice was trembling and his eyes were turning red with more tears. “Leave me alone...don’t ever come back.”

Crowley’s eyes started to burn. “Azir--”

“Get out !” he shouted. “I never want to see you again! Don’t you dare let my name cross your mind or leave your lips! You have wasted enough of my time with your lies!”

“Angel, I never once--!”

A sudden force pushed him toward the bedroom door and he stumbled backward.

He gave Aziraphale a look of shock, but the angel’s countenance did not change.

Crowley accepted defeat and nodded. In a flash, he was fully dressed and, without a last look back, he descended the stairs and opened the bookshoppe door.

Aziraphale heard the Bentley roar to life and its tires peal on the pavement, and suddenly his legs were weak.

He dropped to the floor and wept.