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kaylinelizabeth4004 · 1 year

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Sky Full of Song

Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley listen to some music. Then Crowley decides to make something special for Aziraphale.

Title from a Florence + the Machine song, I don’t know why but Florence and Good Omens are connected in my mind.

When they had first settled upon the idea of Crowley living inside the bookshop, along with Aziraphale, they had a few small technicalities to work out. Where Crowley would sleep was easily sorted out with a quick snort by Aziraphale, who called it their bedroom, as though it were the most obvious thing, which only shut Crowley up and make him cover his face with his hand to hide the blush across his cheeks.

And of course, there was the matter of Crowley's plants. There were 23 of them to date, all named and specialized with their own personal stories - of which we will dive into a different day. Aziraphale didn't hesitate to set aside some books, miracle some new end tables, and create space for the plants. They were Crowley's version of books, he argued, and deserved their place in their world. So there they stay, Orion up near the front to stare at anyone who dared to actually purchase a book.

Naturally, Crowley assumed that his moving in would eliminate the need for a flat at all. That flat was cold, damp, and terribly inconvenient to get to, quite like the rest of London. He saw no reason to cling onto a place that never felt like his home. However Aziraphale had a different approach.

"Well, dearest, it's not that I wish to be away from you, of course. It's rather that you, err, you might wish to be away from me," Aziraphale had explained over some delightful wine from the '20s.

"Wot?" Crowley asked, furrowing his brows in genuine confusion.

"It's just, I worry you feel as though you have to stay here all the time. I want you to have an, err, an out. An out from me. If you wish to do something without my presence."

Crowley thought for a moment then scoffed, "if you didn't want me around all the time you could have just said so."

"No!" Aziraphale stiffened in his seat, reaching out to place an eager hand on Crowley's arm. He looked so warm and inviting to Crowley, as though his very existence was one large hug you didn't deserve. "Dear, I adore having you here. I want you here as often as possible. I just don't want you to feel as though you have to, for my sake. You are more than my... person. You shouldn't have to sacrifice your life for mine."

What Crowley wanted to say was, 'I'd sacrifice my life for yours any day. I want to be with you every moment of every day, even if it means I stare into space while you pour over the same book you've been pouring over for two centuries. You aren't a sacrifice, you're a gift in my life.'

What he actually said was, "s'alright then. I can store... things there."

Aziraphale smiled that proud and yet shy smile, patting Crowley's arm. He rose from his seat, placing a soft kiss on Crowley's temple as he went towards the record player. He lifted a record from his collection with a flourish as he said, "Wonderful, my dear."

"S'bloody brilliant," Crowley mumbled before swallowing a large mouthful of the truly delicious wine. Aziraphale had such a wicked taste in wine, it was unmatched.

"Oh I think you'll quite enjoy this one," Aziraphale said with a giddy smile, sitting down as the record played that dull hum before the music actually started. Crowley tried to contain his smile as he watched Aziraphale wiggle from excitement, shake his body like he couldn't contain it.

It was jazz, that much Crowley could tell. He took extra care to pay attention to the song being played, and when he realized what it was his brows lifted. "Angel, is that Nature Boy?"

"It is!" Aziraphale giggled. "I know you just adored Nat King Cole's music and I found this record, I just knew we had to have it."

'Adore' might have been a stretch in Crowley's mind, he'd never been outright obsessed but he did enjoy listening to him. Nat King Cole's voice did something to Crowley that few other artists could do. Sure Elvis Presley made him nostalgic, Queen made him feel alive, The Smiths were all he wanted to be, KISS was all he wanted to dress like, and somewhere in there Nat King Cole's voice floated around. Nothing specific, but nothing unspecific either. An emotional blob that just existed.

He wished he could explain it, tried to reason that maybe he loved the way his voice seemed to slide through the room like butter. It was smooth, calm, deep. The lyrics to Nature Boy didn't help that ache in his soul, their story echoing in a room full of stories. It was beautiful and simple, but it seemed to reach a part of him he didn't quite understand. But he felt his heart tighten, threatening to burst as the sweet Angel across from him closed his eyes and listened to it all. He bought this for him, knowing he loved it.

"The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love, and be loved, in return," Crowley murmured along with the record. Aziraphale looked up suddenly at Crowley's voice, and took a small, selfish smile. This was everything.

There they were, one late evening in a quaint, unassuming little bookshop, on an unassuming street, in an unassuming city, a demon and an angel sat in the music. They didn't say a word, letting the chords glide through them as one. It was always something that united them. Even when good and evil seems blurred and the world might actually fall apart because of a preteen, the music never faltered.

———

Sometimes ideas seem a lot better in words than in action. While Crowley had agreed that he could 'store stuff' in his now empty flat, he stared at it like it was a beast. Apart from Aziraphale, huh? Bah, it would never happen. Crowley scoffed as he left, locking up quickly as he sauntered out of there. He didn't see any reason he needed to abandon his Angel.

On the walk home, - yes walk. Unfortunately Aziraphale had decided the 'our' in 'our home, our bookshop, our hot chocolate', now applied to Crowley's Bentley. His sweet, precious Bentley. Now turned as yellow as piss while Aziraphale went to collect a package an hour outside of town. No, Crowley supposed it didn't really look like piss. But anything other than her true, dark beauty seemed deceiving. She did belong to a demon of all things, not Miss Frizzle. Whatever, he blew a breath and continued down the road.

Crowley chuckled to himself for a moment, Aziraphale was one strange dress and some box dye away from becoming Miss Frizzle. Though he didn't suppose Aziraphale would appreciate the reference as much as Crowley liked it.

He stopped for a moment outside one of the shops, catching a glimpse of his hair looking positively on fire. It wouldn't be the first time he was literally on fire, and he worried he'd been smoking without realizing. Pissed off some good people last time he let that get out of hand.

As Crowley turned to leave, he noticed what sat on a little stand in the window. A knitting kit. Along with various shades of blue and yellow yarn, laying on a sweet basket that seemed to have all one would need to knit. Needles and what not, Crowley wasn't actually sure what was required to knit but some of the ladies back in the 1790s loved to do it while the aristocracy lost their heads. One lady made him a love scarf, he still has it somewhere. Bloody good wine, then.

He didn't really know why, but against his better judgment Crowley strolled right in and purchased the kit. Then he went and stood on the street corner for a full two minutes, trying to decide what to do with his 30 quid worth of knitting supplies. He very well couldn't bring it back to the bookshop.

Not only does Aziraphale know how to knit, he's good at it. And Crowley doesn't necessarily feel like having him linger around, breathing softly down his neck and completely unaware he was doing it. Then he would sit down, away from Crowley, nose shoved in a book with wide eyes over the edge. And each time Crowley would do something wrong, Aziraphale would whisper a little "oh dear" before avoiding Crowley's gaze. This was part of the reason Crowley gave up on sewing. That and the needle was too damn small for his eyes. It was sweet and infuriating all at the same time. Aziraphale meant well, Crowley knew that, the Angel never meant poorly. But it wasn't worth the trouble.

So that was why Crowley ended up make in a cold, damp, inconvenient flat with a basket full of knitting supplies sitting on the empty floor.

"You s'can't be worth at the trouble," Crowley mumbled to it, poking it with his foot.

They stared at one another in awkward silence for about a minute before Crowley broke, sauntering through the different dark rooms of the flat. He loitered in his office, remembering fondly when Ligur melted into a puddle at the entrance. His desk still had the scratch from his vintage message machine. Crowley let out a breath.

Then he found himself back where he started, staring at a basket full of knitting supplies as though it were going to bite him. He wishes it would, it would be better than the mocking stare it presented instead.

"Ngk, fine, you stupid bloody thing," Crowley said in an agitated voice, sitting on the empty floor beside it. "You s'better be the best damn kit money coulda bought."

He dumped the supplies in a heap, going straight for the needles and the blue yarn. This should be easy. People been doing it for hundreds of years. Easy. Easy peasy, tickety-boo as his Angel says.

20 minutes later and it was most certainly not tickety-boo. Crowley had pin pricks along his fingers, fraying yarn on the cuffs of his jacket, and one massive knot he couldn't comprehend how it had happened. His phone buzzed in his pocket, giving him a chance to escape this nightmare. He could feel the steam coming from his ears and he threw the offending material down to stand and answer it.

"Ah, Angel, was wondering when you'd bother to call. I've been left alone for days."

"Oh don't be dramatic," Aziraphale said, but Crowley could hear the smile on his face. "It should be I who is upset with you. Where are you? I returned home to find an empty bookshop and some very rude individual trying to open the door to buy books!"

"Bloody idiot."

"That's what I said, in less offensive terms, of course. Dearest, you didn't answer my question. Where are you?"

"I'm..." he debated the different possible answers he could be giving Aziraphale. Admitting he was at the flat would excite him, but it could also prompt questions about the purpose. Saying he was anywhere else would be lying, and that didn't feel quite right. Not anymore, though he supposed it never did. So he sighed and just said, "I'm at the old flat. Checking in."

He could hear Aziraphale's giddy voice, "oh wonderful. I'm so glad you have that space."

"M'yeah, it's, uh, it's nice."

"Goody!"

There was a moment of silence on the phone. Aziraphale was moving some items around to accommodate the rare Walt Whitman he had just spent 2 1/2 hours of his day acquiring. Crowley was staring at the blue heap of yarn on the floor.

After a few moments of companionable silence Aziraphale sighed and said, "Well I'll be the first to say it. I'd like you here, to spend time with me. I miss you."

Crowley fought the smile on his face as he teased Aziraphale, "wot? Wot'd you say? I missed it, signal totally blew."

"I said I missed you!"

"Wot? Say it again, Angel, totally lagging over 'ere."

Aziraphale puffed out in a whined voice, "oh you wily serpent, come home! I missed you today!"

"Ahhh, you missed me. And here I was thinking you said I pissed me, and that doesn't make bloody sense does it," Crowley said with a sarcastic tone, walking outside and towards the bookshop faster than he intended to.

"Oh just hurry on home, my love."

Crowley was stunned for a moment. 'My love' was a new nickname, and one he had always considered cheesy with other pairs. But instead, with Aziraphale it just made him blush and walk faster than he meant to.

"On it, Angel."

———

A week and a half later, Aziraphale was off at Maggie's little record shop helping her organize and try to market to the current generation. She wasn't getting much busy, which Aziraphale thought to be the most disappointing. Records were his favorite form of music.

As Aziraphale tucked every Nat King Cole into their proper place, Crowley was across London in a damp, cold, inconvenient flat hunched over and trying to knit. He'd bought a book full of patterns and instructions, and was now on his third iteration of the same scarf. The two previous attempts were in burned heaps in the corner, neither even close to completion. They had started to go horribly wrong and Crowley got so angry he accidentally set them on fire.

This time around, Crowley was taking his time with each action. He was terrified of mucking it all up. This was important to him, even if it was just a bunch of fibres looped together.

"If you s'don't do exactly as I tells you I will make your life hell," Crowley muttered to the yarn. "And's I can actually do that. Think hard on your decision."

Whether it was the slowness, the patience, or the fear of Crowley installed in the bundles of pale yellow and blue yarn, it was actually started to turn out his way.

———

Aziraphale hummed to himself a song he'd heard for the first time over at Maggie's shop. 'Unforgettable' by Nat King Cole. He realized he might have started to develop a real love for that man's music, all because of how much he knew Crowley enjoyed him. He never imagined himself a jazz fan, far too eccentric for his tastes, but the smooth notes got stuck in Crowley's head as he made the pair hot chocolates.

He was still humming softly as he returned to the main area of the bookshop, eyebrows raised as he saw a small white box with a yellow ribbon on his desk.

"Crowley, what's this?" Aziraphale asked, setting his mug down beside the box and walking over to where Crowley was sprawled across a chair.

"Wot?"

"The box, what is it?"

Crowley shrugged, sipping the hot chocolate Aziraphale gave him and looking out the window, "I dunno."

"You don't know? What do you mean you don't know?" Aziraphale scoffed as though it was completely impossible.

"I said I don't know, Angel. Might as well open it and find out."

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes and looked at Crowley with confusion. Crowley didn't always love to communicate well, though neither did he - a sin they both unfortunately share - but this was entirely new. Despite all this, Aziraphale did go to the box. He gently undid the pale yellow ribbon, it was so beautiful he took extra pains to not rip it, and lifted the the lid.

He gasped slightly at what he saw, "oh Crowley."

Crowley cringed, expecting Aziraphale to hate it. But that was quite the opposite. Inside the box sat a scarf, blue and yellow and hand knit, with a small card sitting on top of it saying 'Happy Creation Day.' Aziraphale glanced up and was surprised to find that it was, indeed, October 21st. Creation Day, the Earth was now 6,027 years old, and Crowley remembered.

Aziraphale lifted the scarf from the box, seeing it for what it was. It wasn't perfect in the slightest. The yellow and blue made an awkward, uneven contrast at some parts. Knots made lumps throughout the entire scarf, and one color was at least an inch and a half longer than the other. But all the same, it made Aziraphale tear up, "oh Crowley it's beautiful."

"You really think so?" Crowley asked timidly, now standing stiffly near where he was sitting. His eyes were looking anywhere but Aziraphale, scared if he looked at him he'd be humiliated. His cheeks were pink as Aziraphale looked at his work.

"Oh dearest, this is amazing. How long did it take you?"

"Oh, just, you know normal knitting times..."

"Crowley?"

"2 months," he mumbled.

Aziraphale dropped the scarf into the box, walking over to Crowley and gently placing his hands on his cheeks. Though he closed his eyes, he leaned his head into the touch. "You spent 2 months making this for me?"

"S'course, Angel. Woulda spent longer, got rushed."

"My darling, it is absolutely beautiful. Thank you so much for this gift. You have outdone yourself."

It was these words that made Crowley open his bright, yellow eyes and look at Aziraphale. He wasn't lying, he wasn't lying in the slightest. All he saw in Aziraphale's eyes was admiration, love, and the glassy look of someone trying to hold back tears. Crowley whispered softly, "why are you crying?"

Aziraphale laughed softly, letting a tear fall at this, "Oh my sweet, it's good tears. I'm just so overwhelmed. It's so beautiful and you made it for me."

"S'course."

Aziraphale let his forehead fall against Crowley's. There they stood in their little bookshop, two angels holding each other. After a few moments of this, Aziraphale broke away, kissed Crowley forehead and wiped away his tears.

"Well, shall I treat you to a spot of lunch?"

"I think a table at the Ritz just opened up," Crowley smiled, hiding the mist in his own eyes.

"Oh, what a miracle!" Aziraphale giggled. "You go on and warm up the car dearest. I'll only be a moment."

"M'kay, Angel." Crowley walked out and greeted his lovely Bentley with an appreciative whistle. "Such a beautiful girl, can't wait to ride you."

A woman walking puffed up and said, "shut it, you creepy bloke."

Crowley, offended, scoffed, "I- I was talking to my car. Not you!"

She rolled eyes, "sure, mate, I believe ya."

Crowley took on a taunting tone, "You're not even my type, you- you- you box dye brunette!" He couldn't think of a better insult and she just flipped him off and stalked off.

"Oh bugger," Crowley murmured, going to open the driver's door. Then he stopped, looking up at Aziraphale who was now on the steps of the bookshop. He was wearing the scarf he made him.

He was wearing the scarf he made him.

And proudly too. Despite it's lumps, it's unevenness, and it's wonky patterns, Aziraphale wore the scarf like a badge of honor. He was showing off to the world that Crowley was his, and Crowley was talented, sweet, and anyone would be lucky to have him. But they couldn't have him, because Crowley was Aziraphale's, as Aziraphale was Crowley's.

"Ngk-wow, Angel."

"Don't you like it?" Aziraphale asked, preening like a peacock. "I had it handmade by the most talented man. I shall give you his number if you like."

"N-nah. I'm not a knit type of guy."

"Oh shame, he really is quite good. And he looks fantastic is those leather jackets," Aziraphale says with a wide grin.

"Just get in, Angel." Crowley was now blushing violently, and got in the car to avoid turning into a hot pink mess out there. Aziraphale slid in beside him, sitting pin straight as he does but with a little proud wiggle in his seat. He was so fucking cute it hurt sometimes, so Crowley turned on the radio.

In the silence of the car ride, Nat King Cole's mesmerizing voice called out, "the greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love, and be loved, in return."

#good omens #good omens season 2 #fluff #so much fluff #fluff so sweet you’re teeth will rot #slice of life #like seinfield episodes but less funny and more sentimental #Crowley is trying #no beta we die like crowley’s heart in s2 e6 ouch neil gaiman #asexual relationship #Nat King Cole reference that is actually a Moulin Rouge reference in my little heart #Crowley is a simp #Aziraphale is proud #I’m actually so proud of this please enjoy it #neil gaiman notice me #david tennant #michael sheen

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ineffable-romantics · 1 year

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Some thoughts on why and how I believe Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship would incorporate sex/why I do not read them as wholly asexual:

This is something I've seen the most discourse about in this fandom, and I've had a few thoughts of my own that I really wanted to expand upon in a full meta/character analysis post. I do understand that this can be a contentious topic, so first, let me clarify a few things:

First of all, this is going to be long. Tbh it probably won't be that organized either. I ramble and I'm not very good at editing, so just... you know. Be warned. (*Hi, it's me from 2 days after writing this; I'm really not kidding, it's LONG)

These are all my own thoughts. They might not be hot takes, because recently I've seen more than a few people come to the same conclusions on a lot of these points as I have. But I've also had these notes in my drafts for about a week and a half now, and have been continuously adding to it as things have occurred to me. This post is essentially just somewhere for me to collect the separate but related meta I've been kicking around in my head.

I fully respect anyone who does see and prefer an asexual reading of this relationship. These are my own thoughts and interpretations as someone who is not asexual. I am in the LGBT+ community, so while I do know a few things about the asexuality spectrum, I am by no means an expert.

This is NOT something I expect, need, or even necessarily want the show (or, God forbid, Neil's tumblr ask box) to address. Tonally, it's just not that kind of show. Newt and Anathema's sex scene was very much played for laughs, and it worked for that reason. If the show found a way to address it in a way that was both appropriate for the tone of the show and ultimately satisfying, then great! But there is so much more to this relationship than sex, and I didn't need a kiss to confirm their love, so I certainly don't need a sex scene. As immortal beings (as I assume they'll stay) there is so much of the rest of their lives we'll never get to see. You can headcanon them as asexual and potentially be right. I can headcanon them as not and be equally potentially right. Again, these are just a collection of my own thoughts, because I think the question of sexuality (or lack thereof) is just as interesting a facet of these characters as any other.

Note: Tbh I've been second-guessing this whole post and debated deleting the whole thing several times for being silly or unnecessary, bc I don't want anyone to think that this is the only thing I care about when it comes to this story/characters. But if nothing else, it's inspired me to write in a way that nothing has in a very long time, so I've decided it's worth continuing, if for no other reason than that.

This is going to be a mixed bag of textual reading, subtextual reading, and a full-on reach or two. It's been a while since I've been in an English class, but if my teachers expected me to find a deeper meaning behind blue curtains, you can expect me to read too deeply into the symbolism of a loaded rifle or an ox rib. (This is probably not what my professors had in mind when grading my literary analysis papers but oh well) My point is, if it feels like a reach, I'm as aware of it as you are. I am in no way saying that all (or even any) of my points made were deliberate on the part of Neil or the actors or the writers or the directors. I am no longer the delulu Apple Tree Yard child of my youth, I promise.

If anything said here is in any way offensive or hurtful to anyone in the asexual community, please do not hesitate to message me or comment and let me know exactly what it was. I promise you it is not my intention to do so, and am happy to clarify or outright edit anything that reads that way.

With all that being said, let's talk about why I think Crowley and Aziraphale would absolutely fuck nasty incorporate sex into their relationship.

Note: I am out of practice with essay writing, so I think I'll just go down the bullet points of notes I have been making, and expand on each as best I can

Food

Where better to start than with Aziraphale's introduction to Pleasures Of The Flesh? (Just a heads up, this entire post may feel very Aziraphale-heavy, and with good reason).

This might be the least hot take here. We've all seen the Job minisode. We've all seen That Scene.

Whether this was intentional or not, the symbolism here is off the charts. Eve was tempted by an apple. So why not go a similar route and tempt Aziraphale with another fruit, or cheese, or bread, or literally anything else for his first experience with food? Instead, we go with a huge, glistening slab of fresh meat that he proceeds to absolutely go feral upon, moaning and gasping into his meal while Crowley watches with what definitely doesn't look to be disgust or even satisfaction with a good temptation. There's surprise at the ferocity of Aziraphale's appetite, certainly. But ultimately he looks to be intensely fascinated by it, while the thunder crashes, the music crescendos, and the earth literally shakes around them.

(It's also interesting to note how very little it takes for Crowley to tempt him with the ox rib. One murmured suggestion, a bit of unwavering eye contact, and vavoom Aziraphale immediately meets him in the middle.)

Cut to Aziraphale devouring the rest of the meat with Crowley splayed back on a makeshift bed, drinking wine and continuing to watch him indulge through half-lidded eyes. Outside a thunderstorm rages while they're learning secrets about each other in warm flickering firelight. It's cosy, it's intimate, and if they'd thrown in a bearskin throw blanket, it might as well be a post-coital scene straight out of Game of Thrones.

The next time (chronologically) we see them discuss food is when Aziraphale "tempts" Crowley with oysters in Rome. So Crowley first tempts Aziraphale with meat and then Aziraphale tempts Crowley with what is widely regarded to be an aphrodisiac. Interesting.

And then chronologically after that, the Arrangement begins to form, which has always reeked of a friends with benefits situation. Just to throw that in there.

It's What Humans Do

In the very first episode, we're shown Gabriel's obvious disgust and bewilderment towards Aziraphale eating sushi, calling it "gross matter" and being proud of the fact that he does not sully his body with it. Aziraphale initially tries to defend his own enjoyment in it, before passing it off as something that humans do, as something he simply has to do in order to blend in (which we know very well is not the case).

He does this again in season 2, passing off Nina and Maggie being in love as "something humans do". But it isn't, is it? Angels are beings of love, and can sense it, and understand very well what it is... up to a point. Even romantic love is obviously within their wheelhouse, given what we now know happened between Gabriel and Beelzebub (we'll come back to them).

What the "humans do" that angels wouldn't understand is messy, physical forms of love.

But here's the thing: Aziraphale and Crowley love doing what the humans do. They love drinking, they (or at least Aziraphale) love eating. They love music. Crowley loves driving and sleeping and watching rom-coms and sitcoms. Aziraphale loves reading and doing magic and earning little licenses and certificates for achievement in his various hobbies. They love to playact at being human so much that they've stopped playacting and started building a genuinely human lifestyle for themselves and with each other.

Once together in an unambiguously romantic sense, why do we think they wouldn't also want to explore one of the most prominent, intimate, powerful human expressions of love and desire with each other?

Angels, Demons, & Asexuality

Here's where I really want to clarify that in no way do I mean that sex is necessary for a healthy, fulfilling, and loving romantic relationship, or that the lack of desire for sex makes you any less human. Asexuality is a sexuality as valid and human as any. What I would say is that it is definitely in the human minority compared to allosexuality.

Angels and demons, on the other hand, are predominately asexual. Sexless/genderless unless Making An Effort. (Which, btw, is a concept introduced as early as the original book; why even bring it up as a possibility? Why not keep angels/demons being sexless/asexual as a hard and fast rule, if not to open up the potential for later use? Chekhov's Effort, if you will. And isn't that something that Aziraphale in particular is shown to do time and time again? He makes an effort in French and driving and magic, doesn't he?)

And this is why I don't believe Aziraphale and Crowley necessarily need to be asexual, narratively. There is already a huge amount of ace rep within the angels and demons (and no, not just the horrible ones. Muriel also doesn't "drink the tea" and has no reason or desire thus far to Make An Effort, and there are certainly other angels and demons who aren't horrible like the archangels seem to be who likely wouldn't Make An Effort either).

The central conflict for Aziraphale and Crowley is that they are on their own side, the ones who went native, the ones who are so different in so many ways from their respective hives. It would make sense for them to also break away from traditional angel/demon asexuality.

I say "traditional angel/demon asexuality", because I would also like to note that I would absolutely not rule out demisexuality for either of them. This post is being written to as a response to people who specifically believe that they (like the rest of the angels/demons seem to be) would be sex-averse in a relationship, and that it wouldn't be a factor in their relationship. I could easily read them as demisexual, but I do think there would be no real way of verifying this, because they've never been able to form as close an emotional relationship with anyone else but each other. Certainly not in heaven, and I can't imagine they would be able to form that kind of attachment with any of the humans, who they love and emulate but ultimately regard as the separate species they are. So yes, they could either be allosexual or demisexual, in my opinion.

Then again, now that I think about it, Making An Effort itself could be a great metaphor for demisexuality, since they would be entirely sexless/asexual until they have enough of an emotional connection with someone to consciously manifest otherwise. Since the other angels and demons don't generally form those types of emotional connections with anyone, there hasn't been a precedent for it.

Except...

Brielzebub

We do have a precedent for it now, don't we? Gabriel and Beelzebub fell in love. They are a direct foil for Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship, speedrunning right through their courtship and finding their happily ever after on the other side of things.

For being such a 1 to 1 comparison, it feels deliberate that they did not kiss. They held hands, they were gooey with each other, but they did not kiss. That feels like such a deliberate thing to omit when you know what's to come at the end of the episode between Crowley and Aziraphale.

And going back to the food = sex metaphor for a moment, let's notice how even as they fell in love over the years, even when pints and crisps were there on the table in front of them, they never felt the desire to reach out for them. They didn't need to. It's a date (love story) even if you aren't eating dinner (sleeping together).

Yes, I know Jim liked hot chocolate. No, I am not counting it because I don't consider Jim and Gabriel to be the same person with the same proclivities, and Jim was highly suggestible at the time anyway.

Gabriel and Brielzebub's big happily ever after moment (as of now) was one between two asexual supernatural beings. They did not need to kiss to drive the point home. They showed what Crowley and Aziraphale could have, if they would only acknowledge it.

Crowley & Aziraphale's Dissatisfaction

But they do have that already, don't they? If you really think about it, what do Gabriel and Beelzebub do with each other that Crowley and Aziraphale don't already? They hold hands, they spend time together, they create little rituals, they give gifts, they're visibly and verbally affectionate with each other, etc. They are more or less already in a romantic asexual marriage relationship with each other, aren't they?

And it doesn't seem to be enough for either of them.

At the beginning of the season, Crowley is immediately shown to be unsatisfied with the way things are. Obviously part of it comes from living in his car, but it seems to be more than that (especially since Aziraphale makes it clear that the bookshop is just as much Crowley's as his, implying that he could have been living there the whole time and is choosing not to, for some reason?). You could argue he's feeling unmoored without Hell telling him what to do, but isn't that what he wanted? Isn't that what he still wants, by the end of the season? All season long, he's never indicated the desire for a new job, or a new project. He stopped the apocalypse because he wanted the freedom to openly spend time with Aziraphale, to spend his time on Earth however he sees fit. Until Gabriel arrives, he has exactly that (minus a flat).

So where does the dissatisfaction come from? And if it represents anything to do with his relationship, what does he want out of it that he isn't getting already?

I think Crowley only really comes to the realisation of what he's missing when Nina names it for him, not only putting them in the category of romantic, but physical (outright asking if they are sleeping together). These two posts [1], [2] go into more detail about what I mean, but I think it really pushes him into acknowledging that their relationship is more human than either of them have stopped to consider, and what that might mean as far as everything a human relationship can entail.

After all, Nina and Maggie only advised that he should talk to Aziraphale, make clear his feelings. The decision to kiss him, to tip them over the edge from nonphysical to physical, that was all him. And no, kissing isn't sex, but I wonder how taboo even that might be in the kind of all-encompassing asexuality most angels seem to identify with. (If they're disgusted by food and drink, I can only imagine what they think of snogging, much less sex.)

Aziraphale doesn't have this moment of someone observing their relationship from the outside. He loves Crowley, and as of 1941 probably even knows he's in love with him in a way that Crowley doesn't understand yet. Which makes sense, since love is technically his job, he'd be more likely to recognise it for what it is.

However, Aziraphale's reference for romance and relationships is Jane Austen. It's chaste. It's dancing and dinner and doing sweet things for each other and roses and candles and handholding. He contextualises his love for Crowley in that soft fantasy sort of way, where it's there, it's obviously there, but it's neat and easy and unspoken. Not to quote Glee in this, the year of our lord 2023, but it's all very "the touch of the fingertips is as sexy as it gets".

Someone should tell that to Aziraphale's face, then.

I'm not going to pretend I know what Michael Sheen's script notes were, but there were definitely some Choices™ made. Because yes, there were plenty of moments in both seasons with Aziraphale looking at Crowley in a sweet, loving, smitten way. And then there were moments that were yearning.

But yearning for what, exactly? All of those sappy Jane Austen tropes already apply to the two of them. So why are there moments where Aziraphale is looking Crowley up and down like the last eclair in the window and licking his lips and visibly exhaling like he's trying to get in control of himself (see: Bastille scene + Crowley telling Muriel to ask him if they have any other questions about love)? Why is Aziraphale not only unconcerned when Crowley shoves him bodily up against a wall in s1, but staring at his lips and a beat too late in noticing Sister Mary's arrival? Why are some of his lines so suggestive? I'm sorry, but the car ride after the church explosion might as well have been the beginning of a Pizza Man porn with a really weird Blitz theme. If even my mother picked up on that vibe, I can't imagine it wasn't intentional on part of both the dialogue and the delivery.

(This section may feel like more of a reach/joke, but I'm really only 20% joking. These are writers and actors who are EXTREMELY good at their jobs; they know what they were doing here.)

More importantly, I don't think Aziraphale is even aware that there is more to what he wants. He lives in the Jane Austen fantasy and it never even occurs to him that he might be interested in anything further. It never even occurs to him that, as an angel, there is anything further to be interested in in the first place. Until Crowley forces it to occur to him. Just like I believe Nina forced Crowley to confront the idea that romantic love is what he's been feeling all along, I believe Crowley forced Aziraphale to confront the idea that physical intimacy is something he's been wanting, without even realising.

Aziraphale's Hedonism

Expanding on Aziraphale for a moment. We talked about his relationship with food, but we all know that Aziraphale is defined by his love of things that Feel Good.

It isn't just that he and Crowley love human things. Aziraphale loves the best of the best, or at least his version of it. He doesn't just love food, he loves going to fancy restaurants. He doesn't just love clothes, he loves soft, cosy, warm, plush clothes, or shiny, flashy, bougie fashion. He loves the warmth of tea and cocoa, loves getting drunk, and sitting in a comfy chair in the sunlight. He doesn't just experience, he indulges.

Given the emphasis put on things that Aziraphale loves just because they Feel Good, it feels narratively strange to assume that he wouldn't enjoy the feeling of being touched, or that he wouldn't be willing to try it, at least once, with someone he cared very deeply for. And just like the ox rib, I think that once he gets the first taste of things, he would absolutely tip over into complete and utter self-indulgence.

Dancing

I also think that dancing could be construed as a huge metaphor here. After all, we're told flat-out that angels don't Dance. Except one.

I would argue that Aziraphale, in fact, Made An Effort to learn how to Dance. He threw himself into the gavotte with delight (at a Victorian gay club; noted) and worked hard to be good at it. He's chomping at the bit to Dance with Crowley, working up the nerve to ask him with undeniably romantic intent and eagerness. So, angels don't Dance... unless they Make An Effort to do so.

We are told that demons, on the other hand, do Dance, but not well. Makes sense, since they're the ones who would want to encourage a deadly sin like lust, but have as little understanding of human love and physical intimacy as the angels. Crowley, however, is shown to be an excellent dancer at the ball, especially in his compatibility with Aziraphale.

(But Aziraphale WandaVisioned the ball so everyone knew how to dance! Yes, he did. However, the rest of the brainwashing doesn't seem to affect Crowley in any way, and they did actually live through the time period where this sort of dancing was a social norm; I'd be surprised if he never needed to learn. After all, the demons can't spell either, and Crowley is at least functionally literate, as far as we know.)

As of today, it's also been confirmed that when Aziraphale asked Crowley to dance, Crowley replied with "you don't dance." Not "WE don't dance". So going along with the metaphor, Crowley is just now discovering that Dancing is something Aziraphale is interested in at all, much less with him, and not denying that he himself is interested in Dancing. In his defense, I believe he was asleep for a few years while Aziraphale was learning the gavotte, so he wasn't exactly aware of Aziraphale's hot girl summer.

Love Languages

I want to expand on that; Crowley and Aziraphale's compatibility. Specifically in regards to their individual love languages.

We all know Crowley's love language is Acts of Service. I don't think there's any debate there. He loves it, Aziraphale loves it, they're both aware of it, we're all aware of it, God and Satan are aware of it, no surprise there.

You may disagree with me, but I believe Aziraphale's love language is Physical Touch, for a number of reasons. One of which being his aforementioned hedonism. Aziraphale likes things that Feel Good, remember? He likes soft clothes, and well-worn books. Neil himself has said that they like holding hands. And any time he is taken by surprise (Brielzebub getting together, the wave of love in Tadfield, etc.) what is the first thing he does? Reaches out for Crowley. He stops him with a hand to the chest in the pub. He leads him by the hand to the dance floor. He guides him by the waist in the graveyard. He reaches out during the entire Brielzebub scene, whether he can reach Crowley or not. Despite his own turmoil, he grasps at Crowley's back during the kiss.

The one time Crowley reaches out for him (not counting the kiss yet; we'll get there), he is aggressively pushed against a wall (by someone he loves and trusts) with a complete and utter lack of concern (and perhaps some interest, depending on how you read it).

And when he isn't reaching out for anyone, or there isn't anyone to reach out to? Well, he's wringing his own hands together, squeezing his own fingers, as if to find that physical comfort in himself.

So. With that theory in mind, we have Aziraphale (Physical Touch) + Crowley (Acts of Service). Throw in 6000+ years of deep love, cherished companionship, and forcibly repressed longing, and there is a very real potential of this combination resulting in fierce sexual compatibility. Where Aziraphale would want to touch and be touched, to indulge in physical pleasure with someone he adores, in the same the way he indulges in every other fine thing in his life. And where Crowley would want to indulge him in return, to give him everything he wants, and to take pleasure in Aziraphale's pleasure, in the same way he enjoys watching him take joy in food everything else.

So Aziraphale is an angel who is insecure about his own less-than-holy desires, who would want to treat Crowley like a luxury to be touched and cherished and adored. And Crowley is a demon who has, over the millennia, been unhappy about how they've been forced to deny even their friendship with each other, who would want Aziraphale to feel comfortable and safe and encouraged to indulge in earthly delights. That sounds like a stunning recipe for sexual compatibility to me.

"You said 'trust me'" / "And you did"

Just like the Job minisode, the Blitz is RIFE with symbolism (intentional or otherwise). This one will be quick, but I did want to touch on it because I thought it was interesting. Maybe I'm reaching at this point, but I'm assuming you read the tin.

First of all, Crowley not wanting to admit to never firing a gun before; comes off as someone who very much does not want to admit to their crush that they're a virgin ("You must have done this lots of times!" / "Umm.... yyyyyeah.")

(You could make the argument that Aziraphale having a firearms license and a Derringer in a hollowed-out book is symbolic of him not being a virgin while Crowley is. I disagree, for reasons I'll go into later, but it's a valid reading. However, I see it more like keeping a condom in your wallet; it's there in case you need it, but the opportunity has not yet risen no pun intended.)

More importantly, the theme of this entire minisode is trust. We already know they trust each other with their lives against the rest of Heaven, Hell, and the world. But specifically, this is about the importance of having complete trust in your partner in a charged, physically vulnerable, intimate moment, where the only danger is between the two of you.

Aziraphale needs to believe Crowley would never hurt him if he can help it. Crowley needs to trust Aziraphale's unwavering blind faith in him. Frankly, it all feels very symbolic of two people deeply in love losing their respective virginities with each other.

The trick is a success, and they share an intimate candlelit dinner in which they reaffirm their faith in each other. Aziraphale also begins to voice his agreement with Crowley, that maybe Heaven's rules shouldn't have to be as black and white as they are, and that there are benefits to... blurring the lines, shades of grey, wink wink (at which point even my mom was like, whoa guys, this is a family show).

Btw also: Can we all agree how much it looked like Crowley was getting ready to get a lapdance in that one scene? You know the one.

Also also: "Aim for my mouth"? Come on.

The Birds & The Bees

Now that I think of it, there's also something to be said for the fact that Crowley and Aziraphale are both obviously familiar with where babies come from (how they're made and how they're born) while the other angels aren't.

Something something Aziraphale and Crowley fundamentally understand sex and reproduction in a way the other angels (and probably demons) very much do not, nor have any desire to.

Probably not important. Just thought it was worth mentioning.

The Kiss™ & Religious Trauma

The Kiss. Where to even begin?

This has definitely been the hardest one to start, because there is so much going on here that I definitely won't be able to cover it all, and will certainly miss a few things here and there.

Aziraphale's reaction to the kiss afterwards is the most interesting to me. And I don't mean directly after, I don't mean the "I forgive you" part. I mean the way he touches his lips when Crowley is no longer in the room and he no longer needs to save face, when he is completely alone. Had it been directly after the kiss, it would have been rightfully read as horror, or disgust, a shield to discourage further action.

It's not. It isn't just a touch, it's a press. As desperate and angry and unexpected and imperfect as the kiss had been, Aziraphale is pressing it into himself, recreating the feeling as best he can. Beneath all the poor timing and shock and hurt from their fight and fallout, I think it's fair to say that it was something he enjoyed. Something he doesn't think he should enjoy, something that Feels Good that he only allows himself to indulge in when completely alone.

Remember, Aziraphale's idea of love is Jane Austen and gentleness and courtship and fantasy. If he'd ever even considered kissing an option, it might have been gentle pecks, cheek kisses, forehead kiss, hand kisses. Soft, safe, chaste affection.

Crowley's kiss turns all of that on its head. He introduces physical intimacy in a very real, very messy, very human way that I don't think Aziraphale ever even considered could apply to them. Considering what other angels are like and what they look down on, even Aziraphale's Jane Austen fantasies probably would have been considered taboo.

So for their first kiss to be rough and desperate and passionate in the way it was, of course he was confused and in shock. It was deeply physical, and as overwhelming and awful as it was in the moment, it Felt Good. Enough that he grasped at Crowley and kissed back, if only just for a moment, before stopping himself. Enough that he actively pressed it into his lips afterwards, in private, to remember.

I adore how Neil has decided to evolve these characters past the first book/season. More so in this season, Aziraphale and Crowley have both become such interesting allegories for queer people on either side of the spectrum of toxic religion. Aziraphale in particular obviously, because he is the side that so desperately wants to believe, to make a difference, and to unlearn all of the propaganda he's been fed over such a long time. Just like so much of organised religion, there is so much that he is told, time and time again, that he should not want, that he is silly or stupid or outright wrong for wanting. It reminds me so much of the severe Catholic guilt one might feel for wanting/engaging in sex for the first time, and the stigma of being queer layered on top of that.

What is so critical to Aziraphale's character is that he goes on wanting, and more than that, actively pursues. He was convinced to go up against Heaven and Hell and stop all of Armageddon because he wanted to go on listening to music and eating lunch and reading books and enjoying the simple company of the person he cares most deeply for, even if that person is supposed to be the enemy.

All this to say that if angels are as generally asexual/sex-averse as I believe them to be, narratively speaking, it would make sense for Aziraphale to be singular in that regard as well. Mirroring his first experience with food, it would make sense for Crowley to be the one to first introduce this new messy, physical, human dynamic between them, for Aziraphale to hesitate (obviously we are at the Hesitation phase at the moment), and then (eventually) for him to dive in wholeheartedly, to absolutely glut himself on this new thing that Feels Good. It would make sense for his character development to show him overcoming his metaphorical Catholic guilt and pursuing the sexual intimacy most (if not all) of the other angels would scorn.

(I can't help but remember that plot idea Neil described from the unwritten sequel, with Aziraphale in a hotel room trying to watch a full porno by way of the free 2-minute teaser clips so he wasn't technically sinning by paying for it. I so hope this is used in season 3, because gosh, I wonder why Aziraphale would suddenly be so interested in observing human physical intimacy after 6,000 years. Lonely and doing a little surreptitious research there, angel?)

Crowley, on the other hand, is the queer person who has broken free from his toxic religion. He prides himself on being his own person, on their his own side. He doesn't have the hang-ups Aziraphale does. He doesn't worry that he's going to be judged or cast aside for wanting things he's not supposed to. So it only makes sense for him to be the first one to suggest/initiate physical intimacy. It makes sense for him to be the one who "goes too fast" (another fantastic example of this dynamic beginning as early as s1; what is that conversation in the car meant to represent, if not Aziraphale being overwhelmed by the intensity of their relationship, and his fear of succumbing to it when he believes he shouldn't? It's also interesting that this is the first conversation to take place in Soho, just after watching Aziraphale realise he's caught feelings for a demon, with the red glow of lust serving as the backdrop).

Do I think the kiss in and of itself was sexual? No. I think it was a passionate and devastating last-ditch effort on Crowley's part to convey the way he feels for Aziraphale. Not just that he loves him, but that he loves him in the most human way possible. But I do think that the kiss represents how they can move forward from here, and what they might want to explore with each other once they feel free enough to do so.

In Conclusion

I am sure, deep in my bones (unless we are explicitly told otherwise), that this was both of their first kisses no, I'm not counting the gavotte, and that neither of them have ever thought to do anything else physical with the humans while they have been on Earth. Like I said before, they adore the human race and lifestyle in general, but ultimately view them as a separate species altogether, and they seem mostly happy to keep to themselves and each other, unless otherwise necessary. I just can't see either of them being drawn enough to a human to pursue anything close to sex. If Crowley in particular has had anything to do with sex in the context of temptations, I'm positive he would be inciting lust amongst the humans themselves, not involving himself directly. At least not that directly.

So, like every other human experience they've had on Earth, sex is something new that they could explore together, just the two of them, on their own side. A deeply intimate, tangible declaration of their love and everything they've gone through to earn it. A visceral finger to give both Heaven and Hell. A renewed appreciation for their corporations and for each other's. A enjoyable method for immortal beings to simply pass the time in each other's company. A new and exciting way to Feel Good, and all the variations that come with it.

You might agree with this post, or you might not. Whether this is something that is ever addressed or not, it doesn't matter to me. This is a brilliant love story either way, and I genuinely feel so privileged to witness it.

But I just can't find it in myself to imagine, given everything we know about these two characters, that sex isn't an experience they would both consume with wholehearted enthusiasm, curiosity, and profound, ineffable adoration.

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Bonus feature: the very silly notes I made to myself that inspired this post

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