#demon-charming

Written for Good Omens Name that Author: After Dark Challenge (Round 3) Prompt: "This better not awaken anything in me." <500 words. NSFW encouraged. [This is rated T; that’s as spicy as I get!]

“Of the fruit of the tree which is in the middle of the garden, God has said: You shall not eat it”

 ***

 The apple is not native to Mesopotamia.

 ***

God’s first rainstorm had finally stopped. Crawley stepped out from under Aziraphale’s wing and tasted the air, chasing the last delicious remnant of petrichor. He knew he should slither off on his merry way, but he wasn’t ready to part company with this nervous, sword–gifting, wing–lifting, demon–charming guardian of the Eastern Gate. Socializing with a principality was no doubt the wrong thing, but wasn’t the wrong thing what a demon was supposed to do? Perhaps he could offer something in return for keeping him warm and dry.

“Do you want a taste? Of the forbidden fruit?”

“Absolutely not. Out of the question.”

“C’mon. You already know the difference between good and evil. What’s the harm? Besides what else do you have to do now that those two are out there and we’re in here?”

“Well, I suppose it might help me better understand them. And it did look rather tempting. Oh.”

Crawley tried unsuccessfully to hide his smirk, but the resulting blush on Aziraphale’s cheeks made his stomach drop. How were his eyes so blue? “Ngk, uh, this way.”

After a moment's hesitation, Aziraphale followed the ebony wings gliding to the center of the Garden.

Crawley pulled the long yellow fruit from the stalk and handed it to Aziraphale. “You peel it.”

“What do you mean ‘peel’ it?” Aziraphale turned the fruit over in his hand, eyeing it suspiciously.

“Oh, let me.” As Crawley impatiently retrieved the fruit, their hands brushed, generating a breathtaking spark between them (static electricity being one of God’s more recent inventions). He shook his hand out before pulling back the thick yellow skin to reveal the soft white treasure within. He handed it back, this time carefully avoiding the other’s fingers.

"This better not awaken anything in me," the angel huffed to himself. He took a deep breath and tentatively licked the fruit. The flavour exploded on his tongue. He flashed a radiant smile to the transfixed demon and took a second, more confident lick.

Oh, fuck. This was a mistake. Crawley’s chest tightened and his breathing turned shallow as the angel continued to explore the fruit with his tongue. In a voice suddenly an octave higher, he pleaded, “Just eat it already!”

“Am I doing it wrong? Show me,” Aziraphale requested earnestly.

Oh, Satan, he’s going to be the end of me. “Take a bite!” Crawley frantically directed.

Now concerned he was doing it all dreadfully wrong, Aziraphale slowly opened his mouth and wondered how big a bite would be correct. After adjusting back and forth for a moment, he finally bit down. The taste was indescribable, like sunshine and bird song and the iridescent wing of a dragonfly. This was his first taste of anything, and he wanted more. He moaned and wiggled in delight.

Thud.