We Should Kiss Like Real People Do

It was not the first time they had kissed.

No, the first time had been in Egypt. Crowley and Aziraphale had both been assigned to stay in the same area, and they met rather frequently. The standard human greeting at the time involved people rubbing their noses together, so, in order to blend in and pass as human, it was a greeting in which both of them participated. Aziraphale had run into Crowley at the market one evening and had gone for the standard greeting, nothing they hadn't done dozens of times before. But something felt different this time; when their noses had touched, in a moment that was half instinct and half what-the-hell, Crowley had leaned in further and quickly pecked Aziraphale on the lips. Aziraphale blinked and backed up, blushing furiously as Crowley laughed.

The next time they had kissed had been in Persia. They had known each other for thousands of years, and they both had come to the inevitable conclusion that they couldn't be enemies forever. They weren't quite friends, not yet, but they were getting there. Normally they greeted each other with a quick kiss on the cheek, the normal greeting for men of unequal rank for this time and place. But the next time they had met, neither of them said anything about it when Crowley kissed Aziraphale on the lips instead of the usual kiss on the cheek, saying to the angel for the first time: We are equals, I am not below you nor you above me, we are friends.

When they lived in Rome, well- that was when it got hard to keep track. People greeted each other with various kisses, each with its own rules and nuances that had to be followed. One was the osculum, a chaste kiss on the hand or cheek, or among close friends- kisses on the neck or eyelids. There was the basium, a closed-mouthed kiss that friends and relatives would use as a greeting. And then there was the suavium, a deep kiss that involved a bit more effort from both parties. Whenever they happened to meet, it would always be with a basium like that in Persia. Quick, chaste, and then over. Nothing more. They never talked about it, that had become an unspoken rule. Never talk about what happened with anyone, lest their respective head offices be watching in those moments.

Until, one night, that began to change.

They were in Aziraphale's villa, where he had earned himself some high-position in the court and therefore had earned the household to go with it. Crowley had been lounging on a sofa next to Aziraphale, very happy and very drunk, and watching Aziraphale rant about his last conversation with Gabriel.

"And then!" Aziraphale leaned forward, almost spilling his wine, "He told me that I was being ridiculous by staying here and living some place. He said," Aziraphale sat up straight, imitating the archangel, "Aziraphale, what need have you for... material possessions. You're an angel if you want something you can just miracle it up. There is no need to go and...buy things like a human." Aziraphale huffed, irritated. "As if I'm going to Fall for something as little as owning a villa." He glanced at Crowley sheepishly, "Sorry, sensitive subject I'm sure."

Crowley waved his hand in front of him. "It's fine angel. Besides, you'd never Fall. You're too... good."

Aziraphale stared at him, his eyes wide (Crowley would later see that same face when he saved a bag full of books from the wreckage of a church). Suddenly, Aziraphale leaned forward, taking Crowley's face in his hands and kissing him.

It wasn't like other kisses they had shared, chaste and quick and gone in an instant, it was deep and long- or, it would have been had Crowley not been so surprised that he fell off the couch. When he had recovered from his initial shock, he surged forward and kissed Aziraphale with the fervor of thousands of years of longing, and was happily surprised when Aziraphale kissed him back with a similar passion, leaning into Crowley's every touch.