Good Omens: An Angel in the Brothel (Crowley x Aziraphale)

Chapter Two: The Deal

Aziraphale squeaked and stared at him. "A deal?" His eyes seemed to hold a hint of worry in them.

If you only knew, Crowley mused to himself. "Of course. I am a demon, after all. Deals are what I do." His words hissed out as his control wavered, ready to plummet into the sinful depths.

Aziraphale hesitated and gazed up at him. Uncertainty etched into his curved features. "I don't think that would be wise, Crowley. I could get into a lot of trouble for that, to say the least."

The demon leaned in closer. "Don't worry. I won't ask for much. Besides, you get to hear the deal before accepting it. I'm not that heartless in a manner of speaking."

Aziraphale searched his eyes, then nodded once. Tiny beads of sweat gleamed off his skin in the firelight, adding to the intoxicating allure of fantasies in Crowley's mind.

He leaned in further and whispered in the angel's ear, "Give me one night, and I'll release you."

Aziraphale yipped and scuttled back. "My dear, have you gone insane? An angel fraternizing with a demon. Why, it's preposterous. It's outrageous. It's—"

"It's me or them," Crowley interjected, straightening to lean against the wall again. "You know what those humans will want. Men and women. Looks like you have some potential customers eyeing you already." He nodded at a pair of women staring at him from across the lane.

Aziraphale paled and spun, then whipped his head back to face Crowley. "Then, help me, please."

The pleading tone yanked at Crowley's blackened heart, but he wasn't ready to stop, yet. He shrugged. "I said I'd help you tomorrow, angel. All you have to do is pick your company for the night."

"C-Crowley," he stammered. "This isn't funny." His eyes became misty, and the demon knew he had pushed him too far.

He sighed and relaxed his predatory stance. "Come on, angel. You know I like my bit of fun before I give in." Crowley led them inside with his hand wrapped around the angel's waist.

"What are you doing?"

Aziraphale tried to wiggle free before Crowley whispered in his ear. "Got to make it look realistic, sweetheart."

Their eyes met, and the demon winked as they neared the madam of the house. Crowley paid for the night, which he knew she had completely scammed him on for a high price, yet if he really did get to do what his demon inside howled for, then no amount would've been too much in his opinion.

He also paid for three bottles of wine and two glasses.

Aziraphale stayed silent for the entire exchange; however, his face had solidified into a stony mask.

They were led to a large room upstairs by a young woman wearing nothing but a few beads around her waist. She set the bottles on a rug at the center of the floor along with the glasses before exiting the room. Crowley gave her a wicked smile, then closed the door.

The angel backed up against the far wall and watched Crowley as he strolled to the window. He threw back the light curtain to give them a view of the nightlife before meandering back to the middle of the room. The demon sat and opened one of the bottles, pouring wine into the pair of glasses. He was aware that Aziraphale watched him with an unwavering stare, the same way a rabbit watched in anticipation of a coiled snake. "Come and sit." Crowley beat down his howling temptation by smothering it with wine.

"Why?"

"Because you don't usually pass up an opportunity to drink with me. And, I did just buy the best wine in the house, which isn't saying much, but come on, quit looking at me like I'm going to pounce you at any given second." He brought the cup to his lips.

"You're not?" The angel inched forward.

Crowley shook his head. "How long have we known each other? I know you can't trust a demon, but I mean, I'm not any old demon. You and I, we have and understanding. We get it. Here, the whole Earth thing, countering each other out, it's how it's supposed to work, angel."

"I suppose." Aziraphale glided down next to him, tucking his legs under him as he sat.

"So, come on. Drink with me tonight. I miss our talks, you know. We haven't seen each other in a few decades. I'm sure there's loads to catch up on."

"Yes, I suppose you're right." Aziraphale smiled and relaxed for the first time that night. He picked up the other glass and sipped its contents.

"Not bad, eh? Better than some I guess," Crowley said before eyeing the dark liquid.

"So," the angel drummed his fingers on the cup in his hands. "We aren't going to, well, to, you know?"

Crowley gave him a devilish smile from the corner of his eye. "Not unless you want to, angel. I can promise that you won't regret it."

"But, I'm fairly certain that it," Aziraphale lowered his eyes. "It would make me Fall." The last word quivered from his mouth and sobered Crowley in an instant.

The image of blackened wings with his screams of pain filled his mind. Crowley turned his back to him as shame washed over him. He stared into the cup again. "Yeah, I suppose that's true." The words escaped him from a bare whisper. If he were the reason Aziraphale Fell? The thought festered inside him. He had never wanted forgiveness before, but something like that. To be responsible for the Falling of his angel. His angel? He shivered and swirled the liquid in the cup. "Sorry," he offered. "I must have really worried you, then."

A hand gripped his shoulder, and he turned meeting Aziraphale's comforting gaze. "For what it's worth, Crowley, you're right. I can't go around trusting demons."

His heart sank. But at least the angel was smart enough to realize the truth.

"But you aren't like other demons."

Crowley let a smile slip over his mouth, and slowly, he reached up, placing a hand over Aziraphale's comforting grip. "So," he cleared his throat. "Is there a reason why you're not miracling your way out of this mess? You know, snap your fingers and make it all better?"

Aziraphale sighed and released his hand to Crowley's dismay. He gulped down the wine, frustration replacing any soft comfort on his face. "Ah, well. It was Gabriel. He said I messed up the mission and that I had to escape by human terms as my punishment."

"But, you did what they asked. I mean the girl made off okay, leaving her sinful ways and all. Everything turned out alright, in my opinion."

"True, but it left a bit of a mortal mess, I'm afraid. Sloppy work as Gabriel put it." He finished off the cup, then set it back on the rug.

Crowley snatched the bottle and poured more for the angel, then for himself. It seemed like it would be a long night after all. He flashed Aziraphale a smile. "I guess it's lucky your Adversary happen to be meandering the streets of Pompeii on this most unfortunate of nights."

"Yes, it's almost..."

Crowley glanced at him before taking another drink. "Almost what?"

"Ineffable."

Crowley rolled his eyes but continued to smile. "No. I think it's you who's inf-able at the moment."

Aziraphale flushed. "You know me well enough."

He sighed. "Not what I meant, angel." He gulped down more wine and risked a glance at Aziraphale.

The angel's face had turned an utterly desirable shade of crimson.

Crowley's devilish grin returned to his lips. "Red looks good on you."

"Oh, come now, Crowley. Stop that. Besides, red has always been your color."

"Which is why it's best on you, angel," he teased as his eyes fluttered across Aziraphale's skin that glowed from the lamplight.