BITE

2

It appeared the previous activity had been too much for the unexperienced angel, for he helplessly sank down. Before he could reach the floor, the demon had placed one hand around his legs, and the other over his back, and carried the breathless Aziraphale to his bedroom, which for the record was as grey and impersonal as the rest of Crowley's apartment. The angel did not protest, nor make any attempt to get away, so the demon simply laid him down between the sheets. Then he observed the white haired man a bit longer than he wanted to admit, before he left the bedroom.

After some time, and Crowley had managed to drink a few glasses of whiskey. The alcohol had of course no impact on the demon, for he wanted to be clear in his head for such an unusual occasion. The demon could admit, it was not everyday he kept an angel in his bedroom. Still, he got rather bored of waiting and thought he might check on Aziraphale, out of impatience and not out of care. At least that was what he told himself when he once again headed to the bedroom, still with the glass in his hand.

Aziraphale was no longer lying down in the bed, he had sat up and studied Crowley with eyes that shone of fright and perhaps confusion. His cheeks were still bright red, and his hair tangled on his head. There was a long silence, before the demon couldn't stand the awkwardness and opened his mouth. "Slept well?" he took a sip of the whiskey, and pushed up the sunglasses on his nose bridge with a finger.

The angel appeared just as breathless as the before, he closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead slightly. As a poor attempt to straighten the mess of locks upon his head, he pulled his fingers through his hair. A mistake, he realized later, when his hand almost got stuck. "Um, why do you even have a bed?" he wondered with knitted eyebrows, yet he made no attempt to rise. "Demons don't sleep have to sleep"

"This bed is not for sleeping" the demon replied, with a smirk on his lips. He stood leaned against the door frame, with one leg over the other.

The angel studied him for some seconds with a frown, before he realized what Crowley had meant. "Oh, good lord" he gasped, lifted the sheets and quickly got out of the bed. To his relief, he was still wearing most of his clothes, except for the waistcoat which were tidy placed on the chair besides him. "I'm not going to rest in the same bed as thousands of your other guests" he protested, while he furiously put his waistcoat back on.

"There are not thousands of them" Crowley informed the now rather provoked angel nonchalantly. "I've changed the sheets" he tried, but the angel had already collected his items and walked past him. "Wait, most of them weren't even that good!" he yelled after him as he turned around. "Come on?" His protests did not make Aziraphale stop, who eagerly tried to unlock the door. The demon took a step closer to him, and of course the angel noticed this because he shuddered back.

"Aziraphale, don't go" this time his voice was gentle, and it made the angel cast a glance at him and not try to flee any longer. He sighed and headed back to the bed room, still he left the bed untouched this time. He covered his hands in his face and inhaled heavily.

"My bookshop did actually burn down, so I guess this is my best option then" he spoke, and the demon did not miss the sarcasm in his tired voice.

"Why are you mad? he wondered with a wrinkled nose.

"Oh, what do you think, Crowley?" he burst out, still with his hands on face.

The red haired man emptied the glass, and ran his eyes over the room. Before he bent over to place the glass on the small table besides the bed. When he put the glass down, the small plant next to it began to shudder violently, before Crowley removed his hand and straightened. "Ah, because we fucked"

"Don't say it out loud," The angel bellowed with a anxious expression. "They might hear" he pointed towards the ceiling. "It can never happen again, you're a demon, for God's sake, what if they found out"