Disclaimer: I don't own either Crowley or Aziraphale.
A/N: Just a fluffy little ficlet that came about whilst I was having a bout of insomnia.
There are many things one doesn't usually want to happen when hosting an orgy. And, unless one's tastes run to the very specialised, a tweed clad angel bursting in on the proceedings and giving everybody a half-hour sermon on the evils of fornication is probably one of them.
"Right," said Aziraphale, surveying, with a suitably morally outraged eye, the debauched scene in front of him. "That's quite enough of that. I hope you're all thoroughly ashamed of yourselves." In the past, his opening denouncement had contained a line to the effect of 'what would your grandmothers say if they knew what you were doing'; however, this had been dropped after one notable occasion upon which a young gentleman had cheerfully replied 'you can ask them if you like, they're both over there'.
"Oh, come on angel," said an exasperated voice, coming from one particular tangled mess of limbs. "Don't you have anything better to do?"
"Crowley, is that you?" said Aziraphale, frowning slightly.
"Yes angel, as you can clearly see, it's me," the demon said, as he carefully attempted to extricate himself from the downright uncomfortable looking position in which he had been residing a few moments earlier. "Right, the lot of you can sod off. I'm not in the mood anymore."
This declaration produced a host of protests, but Crowley just glowered and wished on a new Armani suit.
"Erm… this is my hotel room," said a sheepish looking man, who seemed to be desperately trying to locate his underwear.
The glower turned to a scowl. "Piss off."
The man recoiled. "Okay…right…fine… got you."
Once all of the disgruntled participants had recovered what remained of their clothing and hastily exited the room under Crowley's watchful glare, Aziraphale cleared his throat.
"Crowley, this is the fourth time this week."
"Your point being?"
"You don't think that it's a little excessive do you?"
"Well, maybe if you didn't insist on dropping in before things reached their natural conclusion I wouldn't be so bloody sexually frustrated."
"But I'm an angel."
"And I'm a demon. A demon who has demonic urges. Besides, you never used to interfere in my personal affairs. Not ones like this anyway. I mean, I don't go around trying to seduce any of your friends from the WI so I don't know why you can't return the favour. I thought we had an Arrangement"
"Yes but…" Aziraphale trailed off, not quite sure what to say. "
"In fact, it strikes me that your current zeal for thwarting my attempts to entice humans into sins of the flesh seems to have started shortly after that time you decided to seduce me in the back room of that shop of yours."
Aziraphale's face flushed bright pink. "Crowley, I did not 'seduce' you. In fact, as I recall, you were very enthusiastic about the whole thing. Anyway, I really do think you should do something about this room. Imagine what the cleaner will think."
Crowley rolled his eyes. The Soho hotel room was suddenly cleaner than it had been at any time during the last decade. "You're attempt to change the subject is about a subtle as a Rhinoceros on LSD."
The flush got brighter. "Honestly, I have no idea what you mean."
"Aziraphale," said Crowley, suddenly smirking. "You're jealous, aren't you?"
"Ridiculous, I'm an angel. I'm incapable of experiencing envy."
"But you can do gluttony, greed and lust."
Aziraphale suddenly looked as though he were about to do a scarily accurate impersonation of Michael in full smiting mode. "I refuse to stand here and listen to these ridiculous accusations."
Crowley sighed in the most exasperated fashion he could manage. "Fine, just forget about it. Let's both just… just go."
The angel's face softened slightly. "I will admit that I might have been a bit disappointed when you started to vent your frustrations by engaging in these utterly superficial acts with humans, instead of, well, asking me."
There are many words that would attempt to describe the look on Crowley's face at that moment: surprised, amazement, shock and astonishment being but a few. None of them came close to accurately reflecting the reality.
"You mean you'd… if I asked?"
"Well, yes. I mean, within reason, of course."
Bit of Crowley that had been starting to grudgingly calm down after his earlier lustful endeavours, at once began to kick back into action with startling speed.
"What, right here?" said Aziraphale, taking a dubious look around the room. "But Crowley, it's so tawdry and cheap."
"I cleaned it up," said Crowley, voice taking on a distinctly pleading tone.
"Couldn't you just wait a while? We could go somewhere else."
On balance, asking a highly aroused demon with a disregard for public safety to drive to the shop was not the best of ideas. Aziraphale had been forced to prevent four head on collisions, the manslaughter of three pedestrians and one road rage incident that almost involved Crowley doubling the recorded number of episodes of spontaneous vehicular combustion in the UK that decade.
Crowley wished away their clothing almost as soon as they set foot in the back room.
"My dear, I do wish you wouldn't rush these things so much," said Aziraphale, between frantic kisses.
Crowley's response was insensible.
Deciding that the only sensible course of action was to take charge of what was clearly a rather disorganised situation; Aziraphale gently pushed the demon onto the thread bare rug, which had graced the floor for over half a century.
The sensations caused by the demon squirming underneath him were exquisite, bordering on unbearable, and Crowley was making the most lovely little gasps and groans.
Crowley came first, making strangled cries. Aziraphale a few seconds later, moaning Crowley's name.
As they lay naked on floor, momentarily overwhelmed, Aziraphale looked down at the contentedly sated demon.
"Crowley," he said, eventually. "You do realise that I… I…." he searched for the right words. "Am remarkably fond of you, don't you?"
Crowley gave him a sleepy smile.
"I'm fond of you too."