Over the many many years that Crowley and Aziraphale had been dancing around their feelings for each other, neither one had dared to take that final step. Crowley feared the rejection he was sure to get, while Aziraphale was afraid of the reprimand Heaven would no doubt give him.
But things had changed. Heaven and Hell didn't control them anymore and yet still they played this game of theirs.
Crowley, throughout the millennia, had teased and flirted with Aziraphale to no end. However, Aziraphale never failed to put him in his place. Crowley would be lying if he said an angry Aziraphale didn't turn him on. It was the primary reason he pushed the angel the way he did. His stern voice and glowering eyes could melt the demon. He didn't fear the angel though. Aziraphale would never hurt him and he knew that well, so when they were alone in Aziraphale's shop one afternoon, Crowley decided to push the angel once again.
"Hey, angel," Crowley gave him a menacing smirk as he handed Aziraphale the last book that needed to be put away.
"Yes?" Aziraphale asked, sliding the book into place on the shelf. He turned to see Crowley crowding into his space.
The angel took in a surprised breath, taking a careful step backwards.
"You've worked all day; what do you say we close up the shop early?" His eyes gleamed suggestively; his glasses discarded on a shelf somewhere in the back.
The all too familiar blush rose up in the angel's cheeks.
"I suppose that could be arranged," Aziraphale nodded his head. His eyes remained on Crowley's as he took another step back. "What is it you'd like to do?"
Crowley only gave a menacing smile as he continued to crowd closer. He pushed Aziraphale into the bookshelf so hard a few books were pushed from their spots and landed in a soft thud on the other side.
Crowley stopped inches from Aziraphale. Uncertainty in his eyes. The books falling would surely upset the angel.
The blue green of Aziraphale's eyes darkened, his jaw set slightly.
Crowley swallowed. This was it. The tone that made his bones shiver. The icy look that would send any demon screaming.
One second Crowley is pressing Aziraphale into a bookshelf and the next, Aziraphale had him pressed into the desk behind him.
Crowley's hands gripped tightly at the edge of the desk as he leaned back, Aziraphale hovering closely. Any further and either their lips would touch, or Crowley would find himself on the desk. This isn't quite how things normally went.
Uncertainty was evident in the serpent's eyes. His breath caught in his chest; his heart pounding with anticipation.
"My dear boy, do be more careful," Aziraphale spoke in a low tone. It was similar to the tone he'd used before but this one was deeper, darker, and it made Crowley's inside scream with want.
Knowing that with a flick of the wrist Aziraphale could probably end his life, the demon should have been terrified, but he still didn't fear the angel.
"Sorry, angel," Crowley whispered. It took all of three seconds for him to realize he'd just apologized, like a scolded child. This is what Aziraphale did to him.
A smirk played on the angel's lips as he grabbed Crowley's scarf pulling him in. Their lips met harshly, and Crowley was thankful for the tight grip Aziraphale had on him, cause he was sure it was the only reason he was still on his feet.
Aziraphale pulled away slowly, a smirk still playing at his lips.
Crowley wanted to say something, but it seemed that he forgot how to form words.
The angel released Crowley and went to pick up the fallen books leaving Crowley to gape after him.
*AN*
I saw a thing and HAD to write it. Today has been a shit day and I didn't have time to write this, but here it is anyway...I would really appreciate if life would stop kicking me in the nuts for 5 seconds...anyway, sorry for bitching. Enjoy.