Nice: A Good Omens Fanfic

Changing Places

"So what do we do now?" Crowley adjusted his bow tie.

"Go on as normal, I think. Occupy ourselves. Await the crisis." It was disconcerting, watching his body fidget like that. It was a pretty good body, now he saw it from the outside. Those thighs may not be as satisfyingly solid as Aziraphale's, but they looked fantastic in black trousers.

Crowley stepped closer and ran his hands down them, pulling him—Aziraphale—closer. "I have some ideas on how to occupy ourselves. You know, I wish I'd realised centuries ago how much this body wants that body. Would've made things easier."

Aziraphale slapped his hands lightly, not seeming particularly offended. "Technically, that's still your body, or this entire plan wouldn't work. So all we've actually established is that you've fallen victim to the sin of vanity, among others. Or that—th-that you..." He began to stammer.

"Want you? Yeah, old news, my love. Thousands of years old." He slid his hands up to slightly more chaste regions. "Want you so much," he hissed, or tried to hiss. The angel's tongue wasn't really built for it. "Have we discussed the sin of lust, yet?"

"I don't want to act suspiciously." Aziraphale pushed his lower lip out stubbornly. "We need to carry on like normal."

"Hell, I know I never looked as adorable as you do right now. I'm pretty sure I never pouted. It's weird for me, too." It was strange, also, pressing kisses along his own cheekbone, but he couldn't resist it anyway. "Look, this could be acting normal. Both Heaven and Hell probably assume we're shacked up already by now. "

"You're more right than you think." Aziraphale shivered, and turned his mouth to be kissed. "Nevertheless, it's no good staying here. We need to lure them into the open and get it over with. Then—we have eternity to work things out between us, if you like."

"I do like. I like a lot. I have a lot of lost time to make up for."

"You have no idea how unsettling it is to see such a fiendish expression on my face." Crowley grinned lasciviously at him. "Oh, my dear fellow, that's even worse."

"Well, I think I look fetching blushing."

"Yes, you always do." Aziraphale smiled fondly.

"I never blush," Crowley protested, outraged. "I'm a demon. Demons have no shame and we certainly don't blush."

"Tell yourself that if it makes you feel more infernal, you deceptive serpent. Feeling infernal can only help with hellfire. Now, if it wasn't for—this—I would be..." A shadow passed over the sharp face. "Seeing if anything about my bookstore could be saved or restored."

Crowley melted at the sudden sadness. "I'll check on it for you, my love." He managed to bite back some completely ridiculous promises to do anything in the world. He was dimly aware of having lost all remnants of restraint and dignity over the last few hours, and didn't much care.

"Thank you, dearest." Aziraphale caressed his face. How did yellow bulging eyes manage to look so very tender? "I'll leave later. See you at the usual place?"

"Yeah." Crowley reluctantly disengaged himself. "Aziraphale?"

"Hmm?"

"If those bastards Down There hurt you, I'll make them spend the next million milennia wishing for the mercy of holy water."

It was an empty threat, but Aziraphale smiled kindly anyway. "Thank you, dear. But it won't be necessary. Mind how you go, Crowley."

"And you. Especially you, angel."