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As the doors slide closed, Aziraphale manages to squeeze inside, watching the faces of angry angels disappear in front of him. Hand pressed against his chest, he lets his head hang for a moment, taking a deep breath, as he tries to calm some of the thoughts racing in his head. The elevator hums around him, slowly lowering back down to Earth.
"Well, that was certainly interesting."
The angel's head pulls up with a jerk, remembering the entity behind him. He can just feel the energy radiating off the demon, the emotions filling the space between them. "I…"
Aziraphale tries to find words. Any at all.
"Angel."
Taking one more deep breath, Aziraphale finally forces himself to turn around, squaring his shoulders as he does. The moment he's facing the demon leaning up against the back wall, the elevator's hum quiets and he can feel the contraption stop entirely.
"You… you really came?" He hears himself whisper.
Crowley's face remains blank, his eyes hidden behind still golden frames. "You prayed. To me."
"But how- How did you-?"
"Hear it?" Crowley finishes, words both heavy and soft. "That’s something we both would like to know. Haven't heard anything like it in… Well, a long time, angel."
Aziraphale releases a shaky breath. "Crowley…"
"Listen, I'm still not pleased with you," the demon cuts in. The space between them feels intentional. Reminds Aziraphale exactly what he did to them. "I still haven't figured out if… I still don't… Oh, for the love-"
Aziraphale stands frozen as Crowley's face twists into a snarl and the demon reaches across the gap between them, hands fisting into the angel's jacket. He barely has time to register the movements, only just starts to process the feeling of being jerked closer to the demon.
Unlike last time though, this time Crowley pauses after he's brought them chest to chest. Aziraphale can see himself reflected behind still golden glasses. Can see the emotions racing across his own face and can't help but wonder what might be going on behind the black lenses in front of him.
Sucking in a deep breath, Aziraphale releases it slowly before closing the last bit of space between them. With a sigh, the angel presses his lips against Crowley's, gently, carefully, afraid he's going to break something before it can even be mended.
He can't think of all the nights he turned back to that moment. Back to that day in the bookshop. To the last - and only time - he experienced this.
Hastey. Angry. Confusing. Pain filled.
Brighter than he ever thought it could be.
This time. Oh, this time.
Crowley's lips slowly soften under his own. The hands clutching at him lose their desperate edges. The tension in the air starts to bleed away and it's all Aziraphale can to do hang on as his mind spins around him.
Through some instinct to comfort or protect or just be closer, Aziraphale raises a hand to cup the demon's cheek, and almost melts at the soft whimper his touch pulls out of the other. They move against each other, lips sliding together smoothly as if they've done this hundreds of times before.
When Crowley moves to pull away, Aziraphale lets him, his eyes fluttering open as he does so.
They stare at each other, lost in their own racing thoughts. There are so many things Aziraphale finds himself wanting to say, words tripping in his mouth, trying to be the first out. His skin vibrates, heart racing in his chest, and he wonders how he's going to contain any of it for much longer.
"Angel…"
One whispered word is all it takes to bring them crashing back together again.
This time, their hands are everywhere. One races through white curls, pulling softly at them, while another traces a white streak that stands starkly out against red locks. A thumb presses under a demon's chin, fingers framing a face Aziraphale never wants to forget, guiding and moving until their kiss deepens even more.
Gasps for air, soft pants, a whimper torn from a desperate mouth… The sounds filling the small elevator only spurn the angel further. He feels his mouth opening, can feel Crowley matching his movements before their tongues collide. They only touch for the briefest of moments. Aziraphale quickly pushes harder, exploring the demon's mouth with a new found hunger he knows will never be satiated.
Crowley melts against him.
When they part this time, it's only for the demon to throw his head back, mouth gasping for air. Aziraphale only takes the opportunity to follow his hunger. Lips trail from claiming the demon's mouth to following a path down that slender neck. A whine has him pausing in his decent and he flicks his tongue out, licking a line up that soft skin.
The hand in his hair tightens. "Ah - Angel..!"
Crowley's words and sounds only push Aziraphale more. Once again following some primal need inside of him, he presses open mouthed kisses to the demon's neck before sucking gently at the skin there.
When Crowley cries out louder than any other time, the angel smiles softly to himself.
"Bloody hell, Aziraphale," Crowley says on a pant. "I - ngk! - Where did you-"
"Hush, silly demon," Aziraphale whispers.
Suddenly remembering they are in an elevator that will probably be called upon soon, Aziraphale reaches for the demon's jacket and shirt. His hands race, unbuttoning what he can and shoving aside what he can't until Crowley's chest is as bared as it can be to him in this space.
He runs his fingers over the pale expanse of skin, watches intently as Crowley shivers beneath his touch. Every twitch, every small movement feeds him until he feels himself leaning forward and pressing his lips against the other once more.
A soft thunk and a groan are all the encouragement he needs to keep going. He wants to take his time exploring, learning what the demon tastes like, what he sounds like when certain areas are touched in different ways. As his lips pass a peaked nipple, the low whine he hears only adds fuel to the flames of this desire and he has to force himself to continue on his path downwards.
He will not waste the time that they have, but he vows to himself and to Crowley that they will find more time for this, for each other, for…
"Aziraphale," Crowley whispers, breath catching.
The angel stops his decent for a moment, staring up a the demon from where he kneels on the floor in front of him. "Yes, my dear," he whispers back just a softly.
"Do you… I mean, are you… What-" Crowley stammers out, his cheeks growing redder with every word.
The angel can only smile as he runs what he hopes is a soothing hand down a slim leg. "Do you want to stop?" He asks gently.
Crowley whines. Stares down at him. Shakes his head.
"I want to make you feel good. Even if just for a moment." As Aziraphale speaks, he continues to touch Crowley softly, wrapping his other hand around one of the demon's thighs.
"I know this won't make up for anything, won't fix my mess," he continues even as he feels himself leaning into the fingers still laced in his curls. "I don't mean this to. This isn't an apology. This… this is just for us. And I want to whatever time I have in this moment to let you feel as much of the things I should have told you long ago."
Glasses still in place, Crowley stares down at Aziraphale with his mouth still partially parted. Swollen lips, a flush spreading down perfect skin, hair just slightly out of place… The angel burns the look into his mind even as Crowley finally nods and the hunger in the angel's chest flares up again.
Fingers reach for a belt made from golden snake skin. "Oh my dear, I am ravenous," Aziraphale murmurs and the effect his words have appears in an instant; Crowley's face goes slack, mouth dropping open further.
"One day, I will take my time devouring you."
The belt is undone and a broken whine tears itself from the demon.
"I will savor every part of you. Take my time tasting you."
A zipper lowers, a button pops. Crowley pants harder, breath sawing in and out.
"That day in the bookshop, you showed me exactly what I have been missing , what I have been starving myself of. Starving you of, my dear."
Crowley cries out, the sound a broken thing. Aziraphale can hear the desperation behind it, can hear everything the demon is begging him for.
"There isn't enough time. Not right now," he explains even as he slowly lowers the demon's tan trousers. "We will make time."
He leaves it at that, knowing he will claw the world apart to create whatever time and space they need in order for him to show the other everything he deserves and more. His mind races with the possibilities. With excitement, with fear, with hope.
His chest burns with the knowledge that Crowley was missing something he could have given all along. Clutches painfully as he realizes exactly what Crowley needed to know, couldn't feel on his own, not the way Aziraphale can.
Using the pain, the wonder, the excitement, Aziraphale watches the demon's face as he continues to bare the other to him. "Let me show you," he whispers, pouring everything he can into such few words.
A nod, a shiver, a hand reaching back to brace a trembling body on the elevator wall.
A weeping cock, hard and demanding to be touched only inches away from an angel's face.
Fingers seeking to learn, to touch, reach out and brush over soft skin. Crowley sucks in a breath above him and Aziraphale watches for as long as he dares. He knows he can't watch for much longer, not if he doesn't want them to get caught - or worse.
Slowly and yet all at once, Aziraphale pushes forward and wraps his lips around Crowley's cock. The hand that was slowly trailing across the silken skin moves to wrap gently around the parts his mouth can't reach, even as his tongue slides and presses against the parts it can.
Noises fall from the demon's lips. Fingers tighten and tear at the angel's hair. Soft wet sounds fill whatever space it can. All of it only causes Aziraphale's hunger to grow and he dimly realizes he will never get enough of this.
Especially because he knows this can only be a taste.
With a sigh, Aziraphale finally allows his eyes to close as he continues to work his month and hand. He finds a rhythm that feels natural, that draws more and more desperate sounds from Crowley.
"Aziraphale-!"
The angel hums at the sound of his name. Presses his tongue against the soft underside of the demon's cock. Tastes the bitter drops that coat the inside of his mouth.
Part of him can feel the demon growing tenser in front of him. Can feel something tightening in increments. He works faster, letting the hands in his hair guide him.
He can't remember his mouth ever feeling so full. Can't remember a taste as sweet as the demon's skin. None of it compares to the emotions he can feel falling freely from Crowley. Emotions he's only ever felt as flashes, brief and incomplete.
In this moment, in this space, they flare brighter than ever, filling every gap they can find as Aziraphale continues to pour every bit of himself he can into his efforts. With every suck, every lick…
"Aziraphale, I… I can't hold-"
A groan, a growl, an inability to let go.
Aziraphale can feel it all and pushes himself harder. He can feel the demon's knees buckling as he hears a loud cry tear itself from Crowley's chest. The hard cock in his mouth jerks and bucks before a warmth fills the angel's mouth, spurting against his tongue.
He barely registers it. Not as he's surrounded by the strongest pulse of feeling yet.
There's no time. No time to process or sort through it or find out how to draw it out even more.
Aziraphale swallows every drop Crowley gives him, working until the demon's cock grows soft in his mouth. After one last lick, he lets the other slide slowly past his lips.
"Angel…"
Hands pull at him and Aziraphale follows them as fast as he can. Shaky fingers claw at him and he wastes no time pulling Crowley into his arms. His own fingers thread through red strands, splay over a heaving back, giving every bit they have to the demon silently begging him.
"I'm here, Crowley," he whispers.
After a moment, he can feel the elevator click and hum, starting to descend once again. With a snap, he has Crowley's clothes righting themselves without having to pull away. He can feel Crowley burying his face into his neck, can feel the edges of those glasses pressing against his skin.
"My dear," he whispers. "Let's go make sure we have more time for this, yes?"
Crowley nods against him. Takes a deep breath. Finally pulls away enough for Aziraphale to look at his face. "Yeah… Agreed. Especially because I have questions."
A smile tugs at the demon's lips and Aziraphale can't help but match it. "Together?"
"Together, angel."
The elevator jerks to a stop before a bell rings out, announcing their arrival to Earth. Aziraphale turns to face the sunlight and when fingers lace through his own, he clutches them hard. "Let's go stop the end of the world."