Good Omens Oneshots

His Needs~

"Crowley?" Aziraphale asks, seeing the tall, lanky demon at the door, looking pissed.

"What are you doing here?" Crowley asks, walking up to Aziraphale, everyone else going back to whatever they were doing.

"I was.. I was talking to Lance here. He's a literature teacher, teaches Shakespeare." Aziraphale says, cheeks getting warmer. Crowley definitely knows.

"Oh, 's that right, Angel?" Crowley asks, stepping between Aziraphale and Lance.

"I'm gonna go..." Lance says, awkwardly.

When he's out of earshot, Aziraphale glares at Crowley. "Crowley, what's going on? Why are you really here?" Aziraphale asks, sighing.

"Because, Angel. The bookshop was closed, you weren't there, and Mrs. Sandwich said that she saw you heading this way. I didn't believe her, but as I'm driving by I see you with that boy's hand on your arm!" Crowley says harshly.

"He's not a boy, he's a teacher. Graduated university, even." Aziraphale says, Crowley grabbing his arm and pulling him out of the pub.

When the two get outside, Crowley and Aziraphale step into the Bentley, her music playing softly at first, and then going off completely.

"Why are you at a pub? You hate pubs!" Crowley demands an answer. Aziraphale's cheeks flush hot again, and he sighs.

"You know what I was doing here, Crowley. I have needs!" Aziraphale says, blushing furiously. Him and Crowley don't speak of this. It's forbidden.

"Needs, huh?" Crowley scoffs, putting the car in drive and gassing it back to the bookshop. Aziraphale scrambles to put his seatbelt on, and Crowley pays no mind to his protests to slow down. "So what, you were just going to take him home and fuck him then?" Crowley asks, obviously pissed off.

"Crowley!" Aziraphale gasps. He hasn't heard Crowley speak like this is ages.

"What? Am I wrong?" Crowley says, making Aziraphale go silent. "Exactly. Needs, Angel? Really?" Crowley says, not believing it.

"Yes!" Aziraphale sighs. "I have needs, okay? As do you." Aziraphale says, stepping out of the car as soon as they arrive at the bookshop.

Crowley follows closely behind the angel, his mind racing. "I don't... I've never." Crowley mumbles.

"You've never... of course." Aziraphale sighs, metaphorically slapping himself in the face. "But I thought..." Aziraphale tries, giving his best effort to be respectful.

Crowley sighs, knowing what Aziraphale is trying to say. Aziraphale sits down at his desk and faces away from Crowley, not wanting to make this any more awkward than it already is.

As Aziraphale picks up one of his books, Crowley puts a hand on his shoulder gently and hesitantly. Aziraphale looks up at him, confused. "You look good, Angel. I like the outfit, didn't realize you had this in your wardrobe." Crowley says, looking at Aziraphale's outfit.

"Thank you, I thought it would make me more attractive to humans." Aziraphale says, a little sadly.

"Aziraphale, you don't have to dress differently to attract someone." Crowley says, realizing that his hand is still on Aziraphale's shoulder. He takes a breath to calm his nerves and takes his sunglasses off.

"Thank you, dear, but I do. My normal wardrobe doesn't really attract anyone." Aziraphale says, believing that it is true.

"You're wrong," Crowley says simply, walking to Aziraphale's front.

"Dear, I appreciate it, but..." Aziraphale snaps, changing back into his normal clothes. "This isn't exactly in style right now," Aziraphale says, looking at himself.