Aziraphale couldn’t quite remember how he ended up on the floor of his hotel room, an empty wine glass in his hand and definitely thoroughly sloshed. Right now, his gaze was fixed on Anthony Crowley’s mouth, whose lips were stained a pretty red from the wine they had been drinking. The man was talking animatedly with his hands about something, but Aziraphale wasn’t really listening.

At first, it seemed like Crowley was avoiding him and Aziraphale couldn’t blame him. He wanted to apologize during their dinner but couldn’t find the courage to do so. The last few days had been different, though.

Crowley was lounging around the pool or on the beach and didn’t seem to mind if he joined him. Somehow, somewhere, Crowley and Aziraphale had decided to drink some wine and Aziraphale had invited him back to his room for even more wine. Crowley had shoved his sunglasses into his auburn hair and Aziraphale could see his almost golden eyes for the first time since he’d arrived.

“Penny for your thoughts? Aziraphale?”

Aziraphale blinked and realised that Crowley asked him something. “Er- yes, sorry,” he excused himself. “What was that?”

Crowley snorted. “Where in the ever-loving fuck were you? It’s not on earth, that much is clear.”

“It’s just the wine. Got a little distracted.”

Crowley started to wave his hands around again. “My point was, platypus lay eggs and they are duck-billed! So why not call them ducks?”

“They’re venomous, dear boy! Ducks aren’t venomous.”

“They are? Nah, can’t be,” Crowley muttered as he refilled their wine glasses. He squinted at the glasses while pouring the wine out of the bottle, trying to aim correctly. “Pretty sure it’s just a practical joke, platypus-us… platypi?”

“Platypi,” Aziraphale confirmed. “Or platypuses or platypoplu- er, platypodes, even.”

“See, even the name is stupid.”

Aziraphale giggled and slapped his hand over his mouth. That was embarrassing. Two eyes that seemed like liquid gold in the light of the hotel room looked at him without blinking and a silence followed. A few seconds later, Crowley burst out laughing. It was a carefree laugh and Aziraphale couldn't help but laugh with him.

Crowley slipped off the bed he was sitting on, to the floor. He was now on eye level with Aziraphale. He pulled one leg up and threw his arm around it while lounging back to rest against the mattress behind him. He was still smiling after their laughter faded away and it made Aziraphale’s heart stutter and his smile faltered.

He knew it was wrong to feel like this after all these years. He had hurt Anthony back then and he knew he would do it again. Not because he wanted to, but because he still couldn’t come out to his family and never would. When he finally came to terms with the fact that he did like men, he decided to keep to himself for the rest of his life. The alcohol and Crowley made his resolution waver.

“You alright?” Crowley asked, his brows knitted with concern and his smile disappeared.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m fine,” Aziraphale waved his concerns away and sipped from his wine. “You know platypuses are mammals?”

“No!” He sounded like someone personally offended him. “They lay eggs! I just told you so. They’re birds. Must be birds. Gotta blame Australia for that.”

Aziraphale grinned and Crowley raised his eyebrow at him, which made Aziraphale snicker loudly.

“Are you laughing at me?” Crowley asked petulantly and nudged the other's foot with his own outstretched foot.

“No!” He was still snickering.

“Yes, you are!”

Crowley got half up from his seated position on the floor and decided it would do to crawl ahead towards Aziraphale on his knees instead. The whole spectacle only made him laugh even more. Crowley’s lip tugged up on one side into a grin while he pushed Aziraphale over to the ground and started tickling him.

“No! That’s not fair! Stop it!” Aziraphale howled with laughter and tried to push his hands away.

“You don’t think I would let you get away with that, right angel?”

They were both at least very tipsy at this point and Crowley’s movements weren’t very precise. Aziraphale caught his hands and held them together so he couldn’t tickle him anymore, while he tried to catch his breath.

“I think you’ve made your point now!” Aziraphale huffed.

He pushed his hands away with a coy smile, which made Crowley lose his balance. He almost toppled over on top of Aziraphale but redirected himself to collapse next to him on his side.

“I should’ve pinned you down,” he murmured.

That made Aziraphale laugh again. “You’re too drunk to do such a thing.”

“I think you’re right.” He yawned. “M'tired.”

Aziraphale was suddenly very aware of the fact that Crowley was laying down next to him, being actually very close. Crowley was laying down on his side, his leg was pressed up against Aziraphale’s and he could feel the heat through his own trousers. Crowley had his head propped up on his hand, his elbow resting on the floor. Aziraphale didn’t dare to move, afraid that Crowley would move away.

He could hear that Crowley also had some issues with getting his breathing under control. He finally found the confidence to move a little and look to his side so he could see Crowley's face. Crowley looked at him with his eyes half-closed, a rosy blush spread across his pale skin. He wanted to reach out to him so badly and snog the man silly. He wasn’t intoxicated enough to do exactly that, but his hand reached out nonetheless and without his permission.

Aziraphale brushed a lost strand of auburn hair from Crowley’s face and let his fingers wander down along his sharp cheekbones, barely touching his skin. Crowley leaned into the touch and closed his eyes with a sigh. He could feel the skin of his hand tingle pleasantly.

His heart jerked when Crowley pressed his leg firmer against his, and a familiar feeling found its way to his stomach. Aziraphale turned to his side so he mirrored Crowley and wiggled himself slightly closer. Crowley’s breath hitched when Aziraphale pressed his legs against his.

Against his better judgment, Aziraphale leaned in. For a second it seemed like Crowley would do the same, but he suddenly jerked back and scrambled up to his feet, his cheeks red hot. Aziraphale stared at him with his lips slightly parted and tried to understand what was going on.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, Aziraphale,” Crowley croaked and he tried to locate his sunglasses, pushing them on his nose when he found them.

Aziraphale sat up from the floor. “No, it’s… I don't mind. Really,” he admitted.

“I do,” Crowley started walking backwards and bumped into the bed while Aziraphale got up from the floor. “I’m sorry. It’s complicated. Not your fault, totally not your fault.”

With those words, he turned around and left the room. A few seconds later the door closed behind him and Aziraphale groaned. A lot happened in the span of a few minutes and he didn’t know how to deal with it. The world was spinning slightly around him, he was aroused and half-hard in his pants.

Oh, he hoped Crowley hadn’t noticed that, that would be really embarrassing.

He let himself fall ungracefully on the bed and palmed his half erection through his trousers, which rose to full attention quickly. That was the most physical contact he had had in a long while and it showed. He sighed and shimmied out of his trousers and pants without getting up.

He let his hands wander over his pale thighs, caressing the soft skin and closing his eyes so he could pretend they weren’t his own hands. His hands came back up and gripped the base of his cock impatiently. He started to stroke himself slowly, his thumb brushing over the slit and rubbing a drop of pre-come all over the head. He shivered and imagined it was Crowley’s tongue there instead.

With that image in mind, his golden eyes staring back up from in between his legs, his tongue doing tricks he could only dream of, he started to move his hand faster, until he ended up fucking his fist in a slightly drunken frenzy. His lips fell open and he started panting softly until he could feel a sensation building up quickly, making his toes curl.

Aziraphale arched his back when he spilled out over his hand and his stomach with a moan louder than intended. He pushed his free hand over his mouth and tried to stifle his moans as he rode out his orgasm in waves.