#crowgabe

“Crowley—” Gabriel shook his head. “This was supposed to be for us.”

“Us,” Crowley repeated. “What do you mean?”

Gabriel frowned. “I made that for us. To celebrate! Do you have no idea what day it is?”

“Tuesday—”

“Tuesday.” Gabriel folded his arms and huffed. “You’re right on some level, because yes, it’s Tuesday, but it’s our anniversary, Crowley.”

“Right.”

Crowley finally had the wherewithal to wipe his mouth with a nearby napkin. With a clean face, he stepped off the bar stool and looked guiltier than he bothered to sound.

“Didn’t forget, just—” Crowley frowned and folded his arms. “Okay, I forgot. I can make it up to you. I’m sorry—”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” Gabriel snapped. “You always do this! Whenever it comes to me, you just—forget. If it’s about you, you’ll remember for the rest of eternity, but me?” Gabriel shook his head and sighed. “Sorry doesn’t fix everything, Crowley.”

Crowley’s arms dropped in an instant. As if some other force carried him across the room, Crowley cut the space between them indefinitely within seconds, using long, wide steps. The moment he was close enough, he took hold of Gabriel’s hips and wrenched him those last few inches; the space between them was gone, and still, Gabriel found a way not to look at him. Gabriel didn’t pull away, but their eyes didn’t meet.

“Gabe,” Crowley whispered, “I thought it was tomorrow, okay? Had a whole damn thing planned out for you. Got reservations, even, and got you a gift. It’s hiding in the closet—fuck.”

Crowley stepped away. Even with his admittance, Gabriel still wouldn’t look at him, so all he knew how to do now was step away. There weren’t many places that he could go, seeing as how they were within his own apartment. He could go to the bedroom or the office, and that didn’t leave much space between them, anyway. Leaving the kitchen at least felt appropriate, but just as Crowley took that first step, Gabriel took him by the arm and stopped him from going anywhere.

“Do you—mean that?” Gabriel asked, wincing as if he couldn’t believe the sound of his own voice.

“Course I do.” Bravely, Crowley reached for Gabriel and cupped his face. “I’d never forget about you, angel. You have to believe that. Maybe I eat your food, yeah, but it’s good. You get better every time. Didn’t eat much of this human stuff before you came along, you know.”

A small smile quirked and died on Gabriel’s lips in a second; he didn’t want to smile or find himself pleased at Crowley’s words. He wanted to continue his anger, but that was so difficult with Crowley’s gentle strokes against his face. Crowley’s voice was soft, and his eyes were genuine.

“Okay,” Gabriel whispered. “You’re forgiven.”

It was Crowley’s turn to smile. He grinned widely and leaned in to press his lips against Gabriel’s. It was slow and sweet—soft, which was so unlike them at the best of times, but it felt good. The kiss deepened, and Gabriel moaned against the press of Crowley’s lips. Crowley’s tongue slithered between them, forked tips brushing against his lips until Gabriel gave in and parted them. As Crowley pushed inside, his tongue dancing over the tips of Gabriel’s teeth, he wrapped his arms around Gabriel’s waist and grabbed at his arse.

“Crowley—” Gabriel pushed back with a gasp, but he couldn’t escape Crowley’s hold. Nor did he want to.

Desperately, Gabriel gripped at Crowley’s shoulders to keep himself steady. Human sensations still overwhelmed him, as he wasn’t quite used to them. Of all of these sensations, arousal was the sharpest and strangest. It was the one that went against his angel nature the most, but Gabriel couldn’t help but moan when Crowley’s hands slipped into the waistband of his pants to grab him, skin against skin.

“Since it is our anniversary,” Crowley whispered, “maybe we should take this to the bed?”

“What about dinner? I had everything planned—”

“It was wonderful. Make it again for me tomorrow. Tonight, you’re the only thing I want to have.”