Aziraphale felt like a teenager. His hands were resting on Crowley’s shoulders and his heart was beating at a million miles per minute in his chest. Crowley had his hands on Aziraphale’s sides which made him feel slightly self-conscious because of the extra weight he carried there. They both stared at a point behind each other, not daring to look the other in the eye, while they swayed gently. 

The slow number was already over and transitioned into a different song, but both of them decided that they could dance on for a bit like this. Neither willing to let the other go just yet but not ready to get closer either. They were just a few inches apart, dancing like they were at a primary school dance. 

Aziraphale wasn't kidding when he said he didn't dance. He never danced and he didn’t count that one time he learned the Gavotte for a school play. He didn’t dance in the privacy of his own home, let alone when there were other people around. He'd tried to figure out his sexuality in university and went to a gay bar a few times. There was lots of dancing going on, but Aziraphale didn't participate. He did have a hookup in the bathroom there once, but it left him feeling rather dirty and even more lonely. 

After university, he ventured into pubs after moving to London. There was a lot less dancing going on there and he felt more at ease. He even met a rather nice but eccentric girl who was a few years younger than him. They still met up every now and then for a nice night out. She didn't dance either, not with strangers or her boyfriend, but he could imagine her dancing at home. 

Aziraphale got into a relationship with a nice bloke that shared the same interests as him. John was a few years older than Aziraphale and didn't dance either. It all went very well at first, but then his boyfriend started to notice that Aziraphale kept his family away from him. John was ready to settle down and wanted to move in together, which led to the discovery that Aziraphale couldn't do that. He wasn't ready to come out to his family and his boyfriend didn't want to be his secret. It was a rather messy and painful breakup and after that Aziraphale decided that it wouldn’t be fair to keep his loved one a secret and he would be better off alone. 

This all made it so that Aziraphale had no idea why he gave in to dancing tonight, especially with Crowley. He enjoyed it more than he would’ve thought but didn’t dare to look up to his dancing partner. He could see how the other was trying to blow a few strands of hair out of his face that had fallen down his forehead and in front of his eyes. 

Aziraphale lifted his hand from Crowley’s shoulder to brush the hair away, his fingertips touching his forehead briefly. Crowley leaned slightly into the touch, his eyes closing for a moment. Aziraphale’s breath caught in his throat when Crowley opened his eyes again, his expression soft and the corners of his mouth upturned into a small smile. Aziraphale got overwhelmed by the sudden urge to kiss the corner of that smile. 

He was debating stepping back and retreated his hand from Crowley’s face. Crowley seemed to chase the touch and leaned closer to Aziraphale. Aziraphale decided to take the leap, almost literally, and stepped closer. Their bodies touched now and Crowley’s grip shifted a little more backwards. Aziraphale smiled, put his hand on Crowley’s chest and his head on his shoulder. Crowley had barely an inch or so in height on Aziraphale. Crowley sighed but didn’t step back. 

“Aziraphale?” Crowley asked quietly after a minute. 


He opened his eyes and found that Crowley was looking right at him, his face only inches away and his amber coloured eyes closed as he suddenly started to lean in. Aziraphale couldn't do anything but to stare mesmerized at his lips, before meeting them. His heart was pounding away in his chest and the feeling of a million butterflies exploding in his stomach all at once. 

This was the moment he imagined a thousand times since Crowley first kissed him years ago, but was certain he could never have again. He just didn’t think he would be Crowley's rebound from a relationship and smelling like alcohol. A small part of him couldn’t care less about that and just wanted.

Crowley brushed his lips carefully over Aziraphale’s, barely touching them. As soon as Aziraphale leaned slightly in and made it clear that he wasn't pulling back, he started kissing him a little firmer. Spurred on by Crowley’s seeming confidence, Aziraphale opened his mouth a little bit and licked softly along Crowley’s bottom lip. Crowley groaned in response and opened his lips slightly. Aziraphale slipped his tongue between his lips and Crowley pushed his body against his as he pulled Aziraphale even closer. 

Aziraphale slides his hand into Crowley’s hair and Crowley reacted with a sound that made Aziraphale suddenly very aware of the situation in his trousers. He didn't seem the only one aware of this as Crowley grabbed his hips, rucking up his shirt with one hand and pressing his own hips against Aziraphale. A little whine escaped his mouth. 

Aziraphale was the one who broke the kiss but didn’t pull back entirely. He just leaned his forehead against Crowley’s, feeling out of breath. 

“Anthony. I don’t…”

He didn’t know how to make his feelings on this clear. It wasn’t like he didn’t want this, the need he felt coiled up inside his stomach was immense. Just because he longed for this for years, a feeling that only grew stronger when he first saw Crowley again in France, didn’t mean he should just accept any kind of affection. 

Crowley let go of him and stepped back, letting his arms fall next to his body. Aziraphale caught the hurt look in his eyes, but it was replaced by a scowl soon enough. 

“You don’t what, Aziraphale?” He almost spat the words at him and Aziraphale lost his words. “Say it then. You don’t want it? Did you suddenly remember that you’re not actually gay?” 

Aziraphale felt like he was going to cry when Crowley used those words against him. He would prefer to just walk away from the whole situation and just forget it ever happened, but he was in his own home and had nowhere to go. Running wasn’t an option, so he just looked a scowling Crowley in the eye because he knew Crowley only reacted like this because he was hurt. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe his own desire overtook his common sense. 

“No! No…” he trailed off. “Nevermind, it was nothing.”

Feeling like he was doing this for the first time, insecure but still trying to come off like he knew what he was doing, Aziraphale put his hand on the small of Crowley’s back to pull him back against his own body. Crowley rolled his hips in response which made his breath hitch. He could have this, even if it was only going to be once. 

Aziraphale kissed his best friend again. His lips tracing a path over his jaw, feeling the stubble under the wet kisses he placed there, and down his neck. Crowley gasped, his hand fisted in the fabric of Aziraphale’s shirt. Aziraphale ghosted his shaky breath over the shell of his ear before gently licking it. A desperate sound escaped Crowley’s mouth.

“Aziraphale…” Crowley’s voice was faltering but he didn’t say anything else.

Aziraphale was usually not great at taking the lead but he was afraid that Crowley would realise that he’d prefer Sandy or was just using Aziraphale to get over her and would stop this thing, just when Aziraphale finally gave in and decided that it was worth it this once.

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